Bittersweet Farm 1: Mounted

by Barbara Morgenroth

  “Everyone should go on a road tour once,” he said. “Even if it’s only to experience every Shanty Shack Motel in the country.”

  “Does that mean you don’t want to do it again?”

  “I liked the acting but not the traveling,” Josh confessed and for the next hour, he regaled me with stories of being on the road and on the stage.

  With quite a talent for entertaining, maybe he should work at it with more concentration than he had during freshman through junior years in high school. I doubted that his parents would be happy with that choice of careers. They wanted him to go into investment banking since it ran in the family like his floppy hair. His older brother was already majoring in finance at Carnegie Mellon.

  I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up to see who it was.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Everyone says this isn’t a party to be missed.”

  “Who said?”

  “Greer.”

  He held out his hand to Josh. “Lockie Malone.”

  “Josh Standish.” Josh looked questioningly at me.

  “Lockie is our new trainer,” I explained.

  “How much longer are you going to keep doing that horse showing thing? I thought you hated it.”

  Lockie pulled up a chair close to mine then sat. “Something else you didn’t tell me?”

  “Didn’t Greer tell you?” I was ready to go home and dinner hadn’t been served yet.

  “She didn’t have to. I figured it out for myself.”

  We sat there in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes.”

  Lockie leaned back in his chair. “So you’re his beard and he’s what? The reason why you can’t have a relationship with a guy?”

  “Josh is my friend,” I replied in annoyance.

  “I’m not ready to make an announcement from the rooftops,” Josh said quite calmly considering the stark truth of it.

  “When I came to the school, I was an outsider and both Rogers and Josh welcomed me. I didn’t have any other friends. I still don’t.”

  “Thank you for taking care of her,” Lockie said to Josh, took my hand, stood and pulled me to my feet.

  “I’ll talk to you later,” I told Josh.

  “Don’t worry about it; I’m glad you found someone. I was going to tell you tonight that so did I.” Josh gave me his half smile and shrug.

  I was pulled out a side exit to the lawn. “Lockie, what’s this about?”

  “Now we’re far enough away from the band and you can dance with me.”

  “This is about dancing?”

  “Dancing is an excuse to press one body up against another.” He took me in his arms and we began moving to the music.

  It was more than I could have imagined it to be. Through the fine fabric of the dress, I could feel the heat of his body against mine. His thighs against mine, his chest against my chest, his arm wrapped across my back holding me so close there was not an ion of airspace between us.

  “I don’t understand. What do you want?”

  “If I really have a say in the matter, I want you to treat me the way you treat Butch.”

  I laughed. “You want me to take the trimmers to your ears?”

  “If my ears need it, yes.”

  “I’m not cleaning your sheath, that’s something you should do for yourself.”

  Lockie pulled me still closer. “Maybe I can talk you into it,” he whispered into my ear.”

  “No.”

  “I’m very persuasive.” He paused. “I already got you switched from equitation to dressage.”

  “Not that much of a triumph. I usually use the hose and cold water. Does that sound appealing?”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Why not?”

  “For Butch? You’d be sticking your elbow in the water to make sure it was just the right temperature.”

  “You’re not Butch.”

  “You could pretend until it comes naturally to you. This is the first time I’m saying that to you but it won’t be the last.”

  “I don’t pretend.”

  “You pretended with Josh.”

  “If someone makes an assumption, what does that have to do with me?”

  “Tali. You did everything but with him. Be honest.”

  “I owed him.”

  “You don’t owe me anything.” He sighed into my ear. “You will.”

  “You owe me.”

  “All right. I owe. That’s my life. Can we go home now? It’s loud and the lights are starting to come on.”

  I pulled back. “What about the contact lenses? Aren’t you wearing them?

  “There’s a schedule so my eyes can adapt to them.”

  “Okay, we’ll go. I have to tell Jules. No, I’ll call her. How did you get here?”

  “I got a ride with Greer. She drives very fast. She can drive with one hand, too.” He pulled me back to him. “She put her right hand on my leg and was heading north.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Are you kidding? I said ‘Come to me, baby!’”

  “Last time a guy tried that with me I said ‘Move your hand or you’re going to need a tourniquet for what’s left.’”

  “I guess you didn’t want the attention.” He let me go.

  “Good guess.”

  From the wrong guy, it’s always unwanted attention. From the right guy, it’s a request.

  We began walking toward the parking lot.

  “Lockie!” A tall blond appeared out of nowhere, practically launched herself at him and kissed him full on the lips. “Why haven’t you called me?”

  She was more than moderately pretty, thin, tanned and obviously a rider. Her very fine hair gathered on top of her head looked like the spiky petals of a flower. It was a smart choice and a solution she must have worked out a while ago for these occasions. There wasn’t much else she could do.

  I looked at him.

  He looked back at me and shook his head slightly.

  I held out my hand to her. “I’m Talia Margolin from Bittersweet Farm.”

  “I’m Alise Farrow. I’m the new trainer at Dinglebrook Farm.”

  “Over in Middlebury.”

  “Yes. It’s a wonderful facility with a huge indoor, a cross country course and an arena with stadium jumps. We have everything you could hope for including some very talented horses.”

  Dinglebrook was a top tier commercial barn. Our farm was private, for our use. We never needed to reproduce the Kentucky Horse Park in the backyard.

  I looked back at Lockie and he shook his head again.

  “I didn’t know where you were,” Lockie said.

  “Now that you do, let’s get together. We have some nice horses and a course through the woods and fields that’s so much like Knoleton, you can hardly tell the difference. Do you still have your horse?”

  “Yes. Wingspread’s with me.”

  “What a great horse. But you haven’t been doing much with him.”

  “The Ruhlmanns had him for a while because I was...”

  “Busy,” I said.

  Lockie nodded.

  “It was so nice to meet you, Alise, and we’ll give you a call as soon as we have some free time and we’ll come for a visit,” I said.

  Her smile faded then returned. “That would be fantastic! See you!” She leaned over and kissed him again then zipped away.

  “I have no idea who that was,” Lockie said as we continued to my truck.

  “She knows you.”

  “What was her name?”

  “Alise.”

  Lockie shook his head.

  “There’s some peach ice cream left over.”

  “Any cones? Those were good.”

  “Maybe. I better change.”

  “Don’t.”

  “Why not? I don’t want to drip on this dress.”

  “You look...” he paused. “Fetching.”

  I drove home, found the ice cream in the freezer and managed to get two good sizes portions out of wh
at was left. We went onto the terrace and sat on the glider together eating ice cream and watching the lightning bugs in the field below us.

  After an hour, he stood up. “See you tomorrow. I want you to ride the grey horse.”

  “You’re not going to kiss me goodnight?”

  “No.”

  “Any reason?”

  “Besides that you’re the boss’s daughter?”

  “Besides that.”

  “I’m playing hard to get.”

  “Okay.” I could hear him almost laughing.

  He began walking down the path then stopped. “Why do you stay up so late?”

  “I’m afraid of the dreams I might have.”

  “Maybe that will change. Goodnight, Tali.”

  “Goodnight, Lockie.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  I had a nearly impossible time falling asleep. All I could think of was Greer putting her hand on his thigh. She probably used her finger to trace along his inside seam. It was what she always did. I knew this because Greer explained it to her friend, Sabine, one morning on the way to a horse show and I had been an unwilling captive in the car.

  Greer must be looking for a new playmate.

  Did it have to be Lockie?

  ***

  “Leave him alone, Greer,” I said to her the next morning as she filled her brushed stainless steel container with coffee.

  “What are you talking about now?”

  “Everything is going perfectly for you. You have a terrific trainer and two wonderful horses. If you want Lockie to coach you to the Winter Circuit, don’t get him fired.”

  “No one’s getting fired for a little pat and tickle.”

  “You won't stop at that,” I replied.

  “I do get carried away. I’m not a committed virgin like you are. I’m not...cold. Although I supposed that appeals to some men. I guess Josh likes the distance between you.”

  Jules wrapped two danish pastries in waxed paper and put them in the wicker basket used to transport food to Lockie.

  I didn’t like Greer before but now I was starting to loathe her.

  “I take after my mother,” Greer said. “And you take after yours.”

  I wanted to punch her.

  “My mother can get any man she wants,” Greer said screwing the lid onto her coffee container.

  “She can get them but she can’t keep them,” I replied.

  “You are a bitch of the first order,” Greer said.

  “You’re a slut,” I said in all honesty.

  “That’s enough,” Jules said.

  Greer glared at me. “I have a lesson this morning. Lockie will teach me about riding and then I’ll teach him about...” she gave me a coquettish toss of her shoulders “riding.”

  I picked up an apple from the fruit bowl, threw it and hit her shoulder. If only it had been a little higher, maybe it would have broken her nose.

  Greer smiled and left the house in her skin-tight low-rise breeches and her tan field boots.

  “Don’t let her get to you,” Jules said.

  “I don’t know what to do.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  I put my hand on the basket. “There’s nothing to tell, really. She’s poison.”

  “She does have a way about her,” Jules admitted.

  “You must have met women like this in Hollywood.”

  “Oh yeah.”

  “What do you do?”

  “This is not what you want to hear but you have to do nothing.”

  “Nothing?” I asked in disbelief.

  “Be you. Do your thing. Be the daughter your mother would be proud of. That’s what you can do.”

  “She doesn’t know how badly she can hurt him.”

  Jules reached out and rubbed my arm. “Dolcezza. Have faith in him. Lockie’s not your father.”

  I looked into her beautiful hazel eyes.

  Jules nodded. “Trust me on this.” She took my hand and squeezed it. “Really.”

  “I don’t want to see him hurt.”

  “That’s one of your most endearing qualities.”

  “I’d like to see her hurt, so don’t be so endeared,” I replied.

  She leaned over and kissed my cheek. “It will be okay.”

  “Not okay in the it turns out how I want it to way but okay in the I come to accept more bad things happening way.”

  “I wouldn’t put it like that.”

  “No, you wouldn’t.”

  “Get down there and give him some breakfast. I made him a nice egg and ham sandwich.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Go. It’s getting cold.”

  I walked down to the barn and since Greer had driven the thousand feet, she was already on Counterpoint, warming him up in the outdoor ring.

  Watching as she cantered him easily around the track, I couldn’t help but admire her skill. Her position was perfect, almost unnatural, it so conformed to the requirements. When she wanted something, Greer did apply herself to getting it and for the last three years, all she wanted was to win the Medal and the Maclay.

  In a way, I felt sorry for her. I knew what it was like to be disappointed, although I very much doubted whether it bothered us for the same reasons or in the same manner.

  “Hi, Tal,” Lockie said coming up behind me. He was wearing his darkest sunglasses, not a good sign.

  “Jules sent some food and tea.”

  He hesitated.

  “You have to try to eat at regular intervals. I know you don’t feel like it but you can’t play around with your blood sugar. It will cause headaches.”

  “It’s not good this morning.”

  “Did you take your meds?”

  “Yes.” He was about to take the basket from me then decided against it.

  Greer pulled up in the middle of the ring. “I’m waiting.”

  “I had a fight with her so she’s not in a good mood. I’m sorry.”

  “I’ll work her hard for twenty minutes and by the end of the session, she’ll have had enough of me.”

  He was so wrong about that.

  “Go get the grey horse ready, okay?”

  “Sure.”

  He slipped between the planks and entered the arena.

  I went into the barn to visit with Butch and get ready for my own lesson.

  We spent the entire twenty minutes at a sitting trot with Lockie trying to teach me how to use my back and seat. I had been riding for most of my life and none of this was ever been mentioned to me before.

  Lockie seemed quieter than usual and even though we were in the indoor, he was still wearing his glasses. I wondered if I was disappointing him. Now with a well-trained horse, maybe I wasn’t a very good rider and he wasn’t free to say that.

  “Walk. And hold him together. It’s not a trail ride.”

  I pulled the gelding to a walk.

  “That’s good. Nice pace.”

  I turned into the center of the ring. “What’s wrong?”

  “I think it falls under the heading of my meds need to be adjusted.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’ll take a while to get it right. Would you use my dressage saddle tomorrow?”

  I didn’t reply.

  “Tali, the close contact saddle is not helping you.”

  “It’s one more thing to get used to,” I replied.

  “Name the other ones.”

  “Joy.”

  “You’re calling him Joy?”

  “I am because that’s his name--Joyful Spirit. Freudigen Geist.”

  “You should call him The Chrysler Building. He’s the same color.”

  “You really don’t feel any better.” I could see it in the way he stood, in the way he moved, as if everything hurt.

  “No.”

  “Rogers is supposed to be here any minute, do you want me to try to call and cancel?”

  “No, it hasn’t been an hour yet.” He pushed the sunglasses further up to the bridge of his nose.

 
“Is there anything that triggers the headaches or does it just happen?”

  “Sometimes I think it’s the weather but not always. Don’t worry about it.”

  “You said you wanted me to treat you like Butch.”

  “What would you do for Butch?”

  “Sit in the stall with him telling him how handsome he’d look with daisies braided through his mane.”

  Lockie smiled. “I’m sure that would make him feel much better.”

  “Why don’t you go upstairs and lay down for a few minutes.”

  “Yeah, I think I will. And if Rogers arrives, get her up on the horse and lunge her for a couple minutes. I’ll be down in about twenty minutes. Okay?”

  “Sure.”

  “Lockie!” Greer rushed into the indoor arena through the main entrance.

  “Yes, Greer?”

  “I thought we were working on Spare this morning.”

  “That’s tomorrow. The farrier is coming this morning because he has a loose shoe.”

  She approached him, walking her walk. Something made her think it was sexy and alluring. Maybe someone in a movie walked that way and got the guy in the end. Or maybe it was in a music video. If she had to advertise, why not just get a tee-shirt printed up with big letters detailing what she wanted.

  “I could ride Sans.”

  To listen to her without the paying attention to the words, you’d think she was making an offer of something much different. She wouldn’t attempt to run this routine on Lockie if it hadn’t worked with other guys and produced the desired results.

  “Why?” I asked quite sensibly.

  “Because I want to be a better rider now that I have a better coach.” Stepping so close to him, Greer was nearly on Lockie’s feet.

  “Thank you, that’s a very nice compliment but I have a couple phone calls to make to try to sell your horse. You have the day off.”

  “You selling Sans?” Her tone changed instantly.

  “Your father instructed me to do so.”

  “I need a backup!”

  “Greer, you have Counterpoint and Spare’s your backup. You don’t need an equitation horse,” I said.