by Kahlen Aymes
“Awww! What was her name?”
“Rising Star. She was a deep sable with a distinct white star on her forehead. When she was about a year old, Aunt Frita thought we should get another horse. She said no creature should live in solitary confinement. Even though I practically lived in the stables, she said that Star needed one of her own kind around. I think she just wanted more horses.” I couldn’t help the soft smile that spread across my face.
“She sounds like a sweet woman.”
“She was. Very. A real gem. Uncle Leonard said horses were too expensive to keep as pets, so Aunt Frita started raising a few quarter horses as part of the ranch operation. The second horse came from the other side of the state and he was a problem. My aunt and uncle couldn’t break him, and that’s when River came over from King Farms to help them. Once we got a few more, we used to breed some of them with the Johnson’s. About a year later, one of the horses Aunt Frita was training spooked and kicked her in the head. She died instantly.”
“Oh, my God!” Marina looked horrified. “That’s terrible.”
“It was awful. We were all devastated, but my uncle most of all. He wanted to sell all of the horses to a dog food factory.” It was a hard memory and still brought a tear to my eye. “Including Star. God, I was terrified.”
Marnia sat in the seat unmoving, literally petrified by my words. “Oh, no! He didn’t, though, right?”
“No,” I shook my head. “But, almost. He had it all arranged. I was heartbroken and slept in the stall with my horse all night crying. Finally, Uncle Leonard said I could keep her if I was responsible for taking care of her. But, I still cried and cried because he still wanted to have the rest of them slaughtered. God, just thinking about it still makes me sick to my stomach.”
“Jesus. How many were there?”
“Eighteen.”
“Oh, my God, Thea, what happened?”
“River stayed with Star and me in the stable the night before; he was just as upset as I was. And the next day when the butchers showed up with their trailers to take them away, he stood in front of the stable with a shotgun. He refused to let them take the horses and told Uncle Leonard that if he wanted to kill the horse that kicked Frita, he’d shoot it himself, but he wasn’t going to let him break my heart by killing the rest.”
“Wow. I think I’m in love,” she grinned. “He sounds incredible.”
My eyes shot to her and then focused back on the road. I was only sixteen when my aunt died, and I’d pretty much fallen in love with him, by then, too. After my Aunt died, River was around more; basically he took up residence to help my uncle, and I think to make sure I was okay. We became friends, he helped me with the horses.”
“He was pretty amazing, then.”
My heart seized. Amazing wasn’t the half of it. I was barreling down the road toward the homestead on one side of the ranch. It was like a greener, plusher oasis in the more drier, beige landscape of the rest of the property. There were several outbuildings on the fifteen acres of the homestead, including housing for the equipment, a bunkhouse used for seasonal staff, several grain bins, the stables, and the main house.
“What about now?” Her curiosity about, and interest in, River was obvious. I couldn’t help the pang of jealousy that I felt. I was used to women wanting him. He was a muscled, handsome cowboy; looking at him was enough, but he’d be an excellent provider; all man from head to toe. The kind of man that made ovaries explode from Mason to the Texas line.
“He might be overweight and ugly,” I said, because I couldn’t help myself. There was no way, as hard as he worked, that he was anything but cut and tough as nails. I knew it, but I didn’t want her fantasizing about him, and I didn’t want to watch her flirt with him all week.
“We’ll see. Does he still work with horses? Can we ride them while we’re here? I’ve always wanted to try. Provided I have a big, strong cowboy to make sure I don’t get hurt.” Her voice took on the cloying, gooey tone that I’d heard before whenever she had her sights on some unsuspecting male.
“No. I mean, I’m sure there are still a few left, but River spent most of his time managing the cattle hands and the farm, and so most of them were sold off. That was years ago.”
“Farm?” she asked.
“Yes. About a hundred thousand acres are used to raise corn, and alfalfa and some oats. You know, for feed. Look out the window; this is all part of it.”
The dry grass had given way to row upon row of bright green corn stalks that grew high on both sides of the road. There were pivot irrigation systems towering above the fields in several places.
“What are those things?”
I laughed. “Huge sprinkler systems. The wells are dug all over the property, but the deeper ones are closer to the house, so the crops are grown there. You know when you fly and you see those big green crop circles? These things cause them.”
“You know a lot about this stuff.”
I nodded. “I do.”
“This is a huge ranch. Doesn’t your uncle keep horses around to herd the cows, or pull wagons and stuff?”
I smiled at her misnomer. “The ranch is close to five hundred square miles, Marina. It’s not like the old days of ‘Little House on the Prairie’.”
“Holy shit!” she exclaimed in surprise. “Really?”
I laughed. “Uh huh. We have outbuildings scattered every so often. The pastures are divided into sections and there are hired hands that take care of the animals. We don’t allow the cattle to wander wherever they want, or they’d eat the grass down to the dirt and kill it off. Besides, if you load up a pick-up bed with corn stalks or alfalfa and drive slow enough, they follow you wherever you want them to go.” I used to ride along and close the gates behind them for my uncle, his main foreman, Jake Lassiter . . . and River, of course. “The tractors pull the wagons.”
“Hmmm. Well, as long as there are a few horses left,” she stated. “What about Star? Is she still there?”
I had a pang of regret. My life was huge and hectic and I’d forgotten how much I missed her. “Yes, but I’m not sure there will be time to ride her. I’m not really prepared for all of this, to be honest. I can’t imagine that big old house without Uncle Leonard.”
That “big old house” was just coming into view. It wasn’t more than twenty years old. It was built about five years before I came to live with my aunt and uncle, and I remember feeling relieved. When my uncle told me he was taking me to live on the ranch, I pictured something about two hundred years old without running water and an outhouse. It’s amazing what you think you know about people whose lives are different, or when they live in an unknown place, but when you see it for yourself, all of your preconceptions are proven wrong.
This house could have been equally at home on a country club golf course in some big-city suburb. It was built into a rolling hill with two stories above ground and a walkout in back. It was massive, with skylights, and a limestone patio that surrounded a big in-ground pool.
It seemed like a lot for two or three people at first glance, but there were parties and barbeques thrown on the property, often. The Andreas’ were a gregarious couple and loved to treat their friends and employees like family. Even after my Aunt Frita died, Uncle Leonard continued the tradition. I did my best to take her place as hostess.
The stables were built at the same time, but the other buildings and the grain bins were older. There were huge trees surrounding the house. The old oak, that was older than anything else on the property, towered in the front yard with my tire swing still hanging from one of the branches.
Marina sat up straighter in her seat as the house and the rest of the buildings came into view. There was a row of tall evergreens planted on the northern edge of the house lot. They’d grown several feet since I’d seen them. Things looked the same, but different.
I pulled up the last quarter mile, and turned into the paved driveway in front of the four-car garage on the west side of the house.
&n
bsp; “This is more like big house on the prairie,” Marina murmured. She’d already unbuckled her seatbelt and was opening her car door. “Wow, it’s amazing.” Her eyes were wide with wonder as she looked around. There were pole lights every few feet up the last mile of lane, landscape lights, and accent lights illuminating the southwestern style house. It was stucco with clay tiles on the roof. It was just as beautiful as I remembered.
River’s beat-up old red and white Chevy truck was parked to one side of the driveway. There were a lot of memories in that old thing. I swallowed, and pulled my bag out of the car with me.
It was beginning to get dark, and despite the house lights, the stars were burning brightly in the night sky. Already, it was ten or fifteen degrees cooler now that the sun had set.
I started toward the house and the screened-in porch. It stretched the entire length of the front of the house, and the stairs that led up to it weren’t very steep. The two porch swings were still in place, both of them swinging gently with the breeze and the painted wooden surface was still loaded with all of Aunt Frita’s large flower pots. Uncle Leonard kept them just as beautiful as she had left them. After her death, I used to help him and our combined effort to keep part of her alive made our bond even stronger.
“Took you long enough.” River’s voice made me jump. His voice was deep and masculine and it still ran right through me like liquid fire.
I sucked in my breath and reeled around to figure out where he was. He was leaning casually with one shoulder on the side of the house with one leg bent at the knee and crossed over the other. The breath left my body in a rush, and I stumbled back. He had the same old straw cowboy hat on he used to wear while working. His jeans were faded and worn, and he had on a plain white T-shirt over them.
Marina was hovering barefoot beside me, holding her one good shoe in her hand.
“Yeah, sorry.” I stood there for a second, and then realized I’d forgotten our suitcases in the trunk. I used the fob to release it and then walked over to it while Marina stood there gawking at River like a fool. “I got stuck at the gate,” I scowled.
Seems like nothing’s changed, I thought, irritated, as I hauled my roller bag out and it landed with a thud on the cement. River walked forward and pushed the brim of his hat up, to expose his face, nodding at Marina. “Ma’am,” he said casually walking up to me and hauling Marina’s bag out with one arm, as if it weighed nothing. His deep blue eyes met mine and my jaw jutted out. Clearly, he was going to help her, and not me.
“This is River King, Marina. Marina Martinez; River.”
“Very nice to meet you. C’mon.” He nodded toward the house and waited for Marina to start walking and fell into step with her, leaving me to follow, lugging my suitcase and purse. “Don’t I recognize you from Sports Illustrated?” he asked with his most charming fucking smile. His teeth flashed brilliantly, even in the half-light. His skin was brilliantly tanned from long hours in the sun, and the muscles of his arms were larger and more defined than I remembered.
“Yes,” Marina purred. “Still not the cover, though.”
He smiled, softly, opening the door and holding it open. I was acutely aware of what he was thinking; Marina’s blatant flirting did not go unnoticed. I wanted to puke.
He waited for me to enter too, and I shot him a dirty look as I passed him. I could smell his cologne and the clean scent of soap, all of it so familiar. I felt fragile as I walked into my Uncle Leonard’s house; my house. There were several billed caps hanging on a wooden coat rack in the entry. NRA, Dekalb, John Deere, and glancing into the eat-in kitchen, one of his shirts was hanging over one of the chairs just where he’d left it. I stopped and left the bag in the foyer. I put a hand to my forehead and willed myself not to cry. Uncle Leonard wasn’t here, and he never would be again.
The stairs that led to the second floor and all of the bedrooms started in the entryway. River bent and grabbed my suitcase, then hoisted it easily onto his shoulder. His bicep bulged and the muscles of his back rippled as he started to climb the stairs in front of Marina and me.
She looked at me and purposely widened her eyes, mouthing “Oh, my, God!” and fanning herself. “Hot!”
Oh, my God, alright, I thought in misery.
I brought her along to help me, but I realized her presence was going to be like a knife in my heart. I was regretting my decision, big time. Being here for a funeral wasn’t going to stop her full-on femme fatale act to try and get in his pants. I’d walked in on her screwing two of the male models in a menage a trois in one of the dressing rooms last July. We were in Milan for a Versace runway show. It was an image I’d never be able to erase, and while I didn’t judge her, my heart screamed that she was going to try and land River in the same overtly seductive way. To be fair, I hadn’t told her about us, so I had no one to blame but myself.
He opened a door to one of the guest rooms and set Marina’s bag on the end of the bed. “Ma’am,” he nodded again, and then moved back out into the hall and across it into my old room. I’d already turned into it and flipped the switch. It turned on a bedside lamp rather than the overhead light. I wearily ran a hand through my hair and looked around. Nothing had changed, since the day I left. River walked through the door and set my bag down. I sat down on the edge of the bed and looked up at him. “How did it happen?”
He took off his hat and ran a hand through his messy hair, and then held the hat in both hands. The light cast his face in shadows and he looked every bit my beautiful cowboy. “We were replacing fence posts down on the southwest edge of the property. There were more rotten ones than we thought, and we ran out of posts.” He shrugged his broad shoulders, fiddling with his hat. His sarcastic demeanor from before was gone. “I told him I’d finish digging the holes for the three we had left, and he could run back and pick up some more, but he sent me, instead. When I got back an hour later, I found him lying on the ground. I tried to perform CPR and I called 911, but it was too late. He was gone before the paramedics arrived. One of the hazards of living so far out.”
I nodded, two tears dropping from my eyes. “I’m sorry I haven’t been here. My schedule is so full and he was so healthy. I never dreamed this would happen.”
River nodded, but his eyes were hard when he looked at me. “I agree. You should’ve been here, and I should’ve been with him and not running a fucking errand.”
I shook my head, sadly wiping away the tears. “If he would have been the one to run into Mason, he might have had the heart attack on the highway and hurt someone else, too. I’m sure he planned it that way.”
River, huffed out a gentle smile. “Someone did,” he glanced up at heaven. “Thanks, Aunt Frita.”
He was so beautiful, that my heart was almost breaking. He was always the one who offered comfort and I longed to take it from him now; I wanted his strong arms around me and for him to hold me, like he used to do. There were so many times I missed him, still. I’d see lovers walking near the Seine in Paris, or kissing at Niagara Falls, or a hundred other places I wished he were with me or things would happen that made me miss him.
“Um, I guess you wanna clean up. You remember where everything is? Nothin’s changed.”
I nodded, feeling bereft that he was leaving before I had a chance to really talk to him. We’d spent many nights in this room talking, and more. I glanced at the window. It was open and there was a gentle breeze pushing the curtains around, and then back up into his face. He’d climbed through that window a hundred times, at least. Life was simpler, then. The way he was looking at me said he was remembering, too.
“Uhhhhhh,” I cleared the tears from my throat and rubbed the back of my neck. “Yes. I have to tell Marina where everything is—”
Just as I said her name, she popped her head in. “Hey, Thea, is it okay to use the towels in this closet?” She pointed to the linen closet door that was to the right of my bedroom in the hall. I was certain the bathroom off of the guest suite that River had assigned to her, was fully
stocked.
“Sure. I’m sure you’ll find some in your bathroom, too, Marina. Right?” I directed the question at River
“Uh, yeah, sure,” he said, hovering.
“Okay,” she said awkwardly. “So, I guess . . . I’ll go take a shower?”
“Yeah, I’m going to, as well.”
I had a lot of questions for River that I didn’t want to ask in front of Marina. Again, I chastised myself for bringing her with me.
Marina didn’t seem to want to leave us alone. “Yeah, so . . .” I said, rising and moving over to the suitcase still at River’s feet.
“If you’re hungry, Suzy Welling brought over some dinner. There’s roast beef, potatoes, bread, and an apple pie in the kitchen.”
Suzy Welling. My heart sank. I remembered her well. I didn’t think I could stomach some of her food.
“Apple pie & bread? I wish!” Marina exclaimed.
“Oh, yeah. That’s right, I forgot you don’t eat,” River said, looking me up and down. I was thinner than when I lived in Texas; I had to be, but I wasn’t skin and bones.
“Ha Ha,” I said sarcastically, kicking off my grit filled sandals, picking them up and looking at the damage, before I walked the ten feet to reach the walk-in closet and threw them inside.
“We can eat meat,” Marina added. “But carbs are bad.”
“Jesus, life must be boring,” River muttered and went to leave.
“Oh, River,” my friend began. “Um, Thea made me leave my shoe at the gate. Can you help me get it tomorrow?” She batted her big brown eyes at him, fake lashes and all.
I almost groan aloud.
“Well, sure. I’ll send one of the guys. No problem.”
“One of the guys?” She was flirting hard. “I thought you might teach me how to ride a horse? I’ve never ridden before, but Thea says it’s so much fun, I’d love to—”