Outside the cave she could hear the rain had slowed to a steady patter. The horses moved, restless behind the fire. Clay ran his fingers through her hair. Her nose felt numb and her whole body tingly. She could see questions in his eyes but did not know what they were. He reached his hand out and brushed along her cheekbones.
“I love the firelight in your hair,” he said. His eyes were soft, and she reached out and touched his shoulder, wanting to feel his skin under her fingers.
Her mind was full of so many thoughts; the past, the future. Taking a deep breath she released it slowly, she wanted to just enjoy the firelight and this gorgeous man. She took another deep breath and quieted her mind. She was here, in this cave, now. When she opened her eyes, he was still watching her.
“Want to do it again?” His smile was there and his eyes were dancing. She laughed and leaned forward to kiss him.
“We better let the horses out for some grass,” She said.
“I’ll take them.”
“Okay. But no clothes.” She was smiling now.
“I’ll freeze out there!” He said.
“Okay, okay. You can wear your boots and hat.”
She watched the whole time as he led the horses out of the cave in his boots and nothing else. The horses did not seem to notice, though she imagined that they knew what the two humans had been doing. She felt a bit like a mom caught with a dad and kind of liked it.
When he came back to bed, he was indeed cold and wet; she ran her hands over the length of him, amazed again at the strength in his thighs and delicious abs. She licked the smooth line between his pectoral muscles and breathed in the scent of horses and leather. His skin tasted salty on her tongue.
“I want you again,” Clay said. Burying his face in her hair he positioned her so that she sat astride him, her chestnut locks a wild mane down her back and half covering her breasts.
***
She slipped out of bed before him. He sleepily touched her hip and leg as she pulled free of the warm nest of blankets. Outside with only her jacket and a towel and bar of soap she made her way to the river. Mist rose from the water in the chill morning air. She stopped to pat Major’s shoulder and give him a good morning kiss on his velvety nose. The water was even colder than she expected but woke her up better than a cup of coffee. A great blue heron was wading in the shallows at the bend in the river. She watched its slow walk, interrupted by long pauses, before it caught a silvery minnow and ate it in one swallow.
As she greeted the morning, she wondered why it had taken her so long to come west. She supposed all the figurative doors in her old life closing at once had left her a little shell-shocked. Of course, she should have come as soon as her mother died. Hindsight was like that, the path clear and easy to discern. She was starting to realize life was not lived in the past. Funny, how her mother’s death had illuminated something she had secretly known for a while; her marriage had not been even close to functional. In fact, her ex-husband was a bit of a jerk, and she wondered how she had fallen for him in the first place. She knew it was because she had made the mistake of believing his need to control her meant he loved her.
Spending the night with Clay was bringing up more memories than she had expected. Her ex-husband had been a man who thought he could “break” Lenora. Not in any physical way, but just in his attempts to mold her into the type of woman to whom he saw himself married. When she had been studying clean eating and vegetarian cooking methods in culinary school, he had singly-mindedly gone about convincing her that she should study the mainstays of cooking, since these were sure to land her a “safe job” in a large kitchen, he had argued. He was right in some ways; she had landed a job with a large chain restaurant right out of school. Instead of being able to experiment and try her own exciting culinary creations, she had to follow detailed recipes to create tried and true menu items day after day. Simply put, she was dying inside every moment of every day. Each time she gave into Mick’s steady direction for her life, she gave up on her own creative impulses. Soon enough these urges began to get quieter and quieter, like the cries of a tiny child lost inside the dark well of her life. Her spirit was tired and giving out. She found herself unable to make a decision without consulting Mick first.
Her mother had seen what was going on and tried to intervene. Both embarrassed and confused, Lenora’s response had been to shut her mother out of her life except for a few stilted phone conversations and hurried lunches. Perhaps, that was why her mother had waited so long to reveal her sickness. The news of her mother’s illness had shaken Lenora out of her zombie daze and made her realize she was not living anything resembling the life of her dreams.
The blue heron spread its massive wings and silently flew upriver, bringing Lenora back from the past. The rising sun bathed the world in liquid gold and the smell of spring grass and river mud filled the new day. Never before had she been more thankful to be on the other side of such a hard period in her life. Alone, wrapped in nothing but her towel, she sat on a blanket on the river bank. She felt him approach, his footsteps were even and nearly silent, he knelt behind her and enfolded her in his arms.
He smelled like smoke from the fire and sweat that made her skin tingle and nostrils flare. He felt like part of the peace. She leaned back into his arms and watched the steam rise from the river.
“How did you sleep?” His lips brushed her neck.
“Perfectly,” she responded. Her neck tingled from his nearness.
“Me too,” Clay said. “I imagine we were worn out from all that exercise.”
She turned in his arms to see his quick smile; he bent and kissed her on the lips.
Gently, he unwrapped his arms from around her. She tried to not watch him undress before he headed to the river, but her eyes seemed to have a mind of their own.
“Have you no shame?”
He playfully wiggled a behind that was a shade lighter than the rest of him, but oh, wow, was it a well-made one.
She blushed and went to prepare some breakfast.
After they had eaten and washed the dishes in the river, they sat outside the cave and watched the horses graze in the eastern slanting sunlight.
“How long is the ride home?” she asked, looking at the ground.
“Four hours,” he said.
Her greatest fear was losing the feeling of freedom she felt pulsing out from her heart into her arms and legs. How long had it been since she had felt this way, she wondered? Maybe, it was falling in love again. She almost gasped aloud upon thinking the L word, but managed to keep it to herself. Whatever it was, was so much more than just lust. Everything felt so right out here with the big sky, open range, wind, horses and life all around her.
She looked up from the blade of grass she had been pulling apart while lost in thought and saw his eyes on her. He reached his hand out and tucked a loose wisp of hair behind her ear.
“Ready to go home?” His eyes were kind.
She could see him searching her face for clues as to what she was thinking. She tried to smile. “Yes.” She wanted to assure him that something healing had happened for her out on the range, under the stars, even while she did not yet fully comprehend it herself.
It did feel good to hear him say ‘home’ and picture her aunt and uncle’s rambling old house, even if she would have liked to stay out longer, to live outside the rules and the pressures of ordinary life. What could she do to feel this free every day, she wondered. Make love to Clay, she thought to herself and then smiled, imagining him tiptoeing past her uncle’s bedroom door every morning.
They were quiet on most of the ride; the morning fading into a beautiful midday, the sky a blue so deep she imagined it was like the sea with depths and depths of hidden wonders above its surface. Her legs were tired and she realized despite the cold river baths she was ready for some warm water and lavender scented conditioner for her tangled hair. But how would it be between her and Clay? He was riding ahead of her; she watched his straight back and the graceful drape of his legs around the barrel of his mare. She was not sure how she should act around him with the busy ranch around them and the crush of everyday life. Dinner around the big table, her aunt and uncle, there were so many variables. Was she his girlfriend, she wondered. She was not naïve enough to think that just because they spent the night together they were destined to be together forever, but there was softness to his face when he touched her, gentleness. What did it all mean to him?
He must have been reading her mind, because he circled his mare back and rode beside her.
“You’re quiet,” he said.
“Yes,” she said. Sorry.”
She did not know how to voice her question without feeling silly. On the one hand, she did not want him to feel like he owed her anything, but she did want to know how he felt. She was an adult woman who had made a willing choice last night and had enjoyed herself a great deal. Yet, she was immensely attracted to Clay and wanted to forge some type of relationship with him if she could. Also, there was the tiny kernel of fear that Clay might have some dark, past secrets or personality flaws that made him a true bad boy, and so perhaps that was why she was so attracted to him. After a mistake like her ex, Mick, it was going to be hard to trust her own instincts again.
“Do you have plans Saturday?” He asked.
She felt herself grinning and could not help it.
“Well, I’ll have to look at my calendar when I get home. What day is it?” She asked.
“I think Tuesday. But I’ve been sleeping under the stars with a beautiful woman for too many nights and may have lost count!” Clay said.
She hugged the promise of Saturday night to her heart for the rest of the ride home.
They rode at a steady trot until they reached the big hill overlooking the ranch. Instinctually, they both stopped and sat atop their horses gazing out at the ranch spread below them with barns, farmhouse, corrals and pasture, the green irrigated grass and the brown of dust mixed in as well. She realized looking down into the valley that it was home. She smiled to herself feeling a joy she had not known in a long time. Beside her, the horseman was quiet, and when she looked at him his face was brooding and eyes shadowed with things she did not know.
“Are you ready to go back?” She asked.
“Yes,” Clay said. “But I won’t lie and say that I don’t sometimes wish I didn’t have to.”
His reply left her feeling oddly disturbed, she would have asked him to clarify, but at that moment a dog far below spotted them and let out welcoming a bark. It was time to ride down and rejoin humanity. As they descended from the heights, she glanced back over her shoulder once and said a silent prayer of thanks to the range for letting her have some time to heal in the soothing realness of nature.
As Lenora banged into the ranch kitchen, Annie met her with a huge hug. Her aunt was dressed in jeans and a sleeveless green knit shirt. Her arms were muscled and tanned, with tiny freckles dotting nearly every inch of exposed skin. Annie was often mistaken for a woman in her forties not sixties, and today was no exception.
“Welcome home, Dear,” Annie said.
Her embrace felt warm, and for the first time since coming west, Lenora felt herself relax into the other woman’s arms without having to fight off guilt. Guilt was a sneaky little thing; she found it trying to make her feel bad for beginning to live her life again. It was hard enough to imagine she would in fact be okay, despite no longer having her mother; guilt did not help.
“You’re just in time to help me with dinner,” Annie said. “After a shower and change of clothes, of course.”
Lenora looked down at her very dirty jeans, bits of Major’s hair clinging to them and river mud and dust. In the bathroom, she looked at herself in the mirror and was shocked at what she saw: her hair was a halo of chestnut frizz and tiny bits of grass and more horse hair were interwoven with almost every strand. Yet her face looked fresh. Yes, her eyes were a little red-rimmed but she no longer had the shadow of dark circles under them. These were the eyes of a girl who was alive, she thought. She stripped out of her clothes and turned on the hot water, feeling as excited as she had ever been for indoor plumbing and lavender and coconut hair condition. After a very long and very luxurious shower, it felt so good to put on clean underwear and a flowy dress. Lenora patted her hair somewhat dry with a towel and then twisted it into a loose bun and let a few damp ringlets frame her suntanned face. She reached for her tube of mascara and then put it aside; she had not worn makeup during the last four days and Clay had seemed to like her just fine.
She walked down the stairs with her heart full of different recipes for dinner that night.
The large, ranch kitchen overlooked the barns and some of the corrals and Lenora took a moment to watch the sunset. She thought she would see Clay, but he must have been busy inside or out on the range finishing up the workday.
Lenora felt a surge of warmth pulse through her and set about paring an acorn squash to roast with pine nuts. Her aunt came back into the kitchen, as she heard the rhythmic rapping of Lenora’s knife on the wooden cutting board.
“You’ll not believe it, and your uncle won’t admit it, but, he missed all those healthy dishes you make,” Annie said. She was smiling. “And I missed you.”
“I missed you, too,” Lenora said and felt her eyes moisten.
The women were quiet while Lenora tossed the squash in olive oil and then spread it on a baking sheet with a few sprigs of rosemary and large wedges of tender, red onion. She pulled the oven door open and slid the tray in. They worked on a big salad with Lenora’s delightfully light orange and vinegar dressing. Two large trout were wrapped in fresh lemon wedges and sage. Annie pulled a rack of fresh rolls from the bread box, and the meal was complete.
As Lenora took dishes to the table she heard the men on the porch and felt her heart flutter with excitement. She turned around, and Clay was standing in the passageway watching her with his hat in his hands. His eyes were full of something she could not quite read, Lust?No, that was not it, she thought, perhaps excitement to see her.
Then her uncle and Jesse were there as well, the moment was gone as plates were filled, rolls passed and talk of the day and the trip to check on the high fences ensued. Clay sat next to her, and once their hands touched as she passed the salad dressing, and his eyes locked with hers for one, long moment. What was happening, she wondered. Was she really falling in love?
Lying in bed alone that night, she began to imagine a future at the ranch. She could see her roasted squash soup (with a garnish of pine nuts and parsley) sitting on a table surrounded by a kale and beet salad. Oh, and of course potatoes, twice baked and smothered in sharp, cheddar cheese. Would people come to the ranch for the beauty and peace? Would they come again? How she could shape life out of the hard rocks and rolling hills of this place, she wondered. But somehow, she knew that she already had all the pieces and just needed to figure out how they fit together. She sighed and rolled over in bed, it was delightful to sleep on a mattress again. Funny, how she had never realized how comfortable her bed actually was. She wondered what he was doing; in bed, or out walking the night? She pictured his shirtless body as he had stood in the creek, the early morning steam rising from the water, and the cool air all around them. The muscles in his back rippled, and she pictured her hands sliding across them.
She could not sleep, lovely mattress and fresh sheets be damned. Avoiding the creaking floorboards, she scrambled out of bed and pulled on a zip up jacket over her fitted T-shirt and boy shorts. She slipped down the stairs past her aunt and uncle’s room and through the shadowy kitchen. Stepping out into the night air she felt alive. The stars were huge overhead, and her breath formed white puffs. The air had really gotten cold. She was glad to be back, but the stars and cold air made her feel so alive. Did she even want to go back east and miss the entire huge universe over her head? She realized city lights had a habit of blocking out more than just the stars at night.
Of course, he was there, over by the corrals. She leaned against the rusty rail fence next to him.
“I used to come out for a smoke. Right before I went to sleep and look over the horses,” he said. “Now, I don’t smoke, but the habit of checking the horses is harder to kick than the tobacco.”
She glanced at him. His face was shaved smooth, though he barely grew much of a beard. The strong line of his jaw and the shadows of his eyes contrasted with the cold light from the stars. He reached for her, pulling her body to him and she was overwhelmed by his scent: alfalfa hay, honey, something minty and then a musk that made her think of wolves or mountain lions. The scent of something rugged, big, and, yes, wild.
He bent his head and kissed her. There was a neediness she had not felt out on the trail.
“Please let me make love to you?”
Her breath caught in her throat at the huskiness of his voice. His thumb caressed the inside of her thigh, sending a shiver of desire bolting through her stomach and upwards to her chest. She wondered briefly if she should try and play coy with him and make him wait. Perhaps that way he would not get bored with her. She realized all she wanted was to tumble with this man in the hay or his warm bed with soft sheets.