by Karis Walsh
“It’s ten in the morning, so we have plenty of time,” Tegan said, but she got up and climbed over the gate. “I don’t know how you can stay way over here and watch them without wanting to play.”
“We played all morning,” Alana said. “The pups played at tearing the liner off the bottom of the couch and pulling the stuffing out, wad by wad. I played at trying to repair the damage.”
Tegan laughed, looking wholly unsympathetic. “Did you get it fixed?”
“No. I just took some of the extra linens out of the closet and stuffed them under the couch, filling the gap between it and the floor.” She paused, thinking about how peaceful the morning had seemed in the moments before she realized what the puppies were doing. “I should have known they were up to something since I was able to read more than one paragraph in my book without being interrupted.”
“They’re toddlers. This is their way of learning about the world around them. By the way, Lace looks great. She’s putting on a little weight.”
Alana left her tote in her office and led them out the back door, toward the corrals. “She’s eating well, but the little ones have fierce appetites, so I think it’s hard for her to keep up.”
“We’re aiming for just above a break-even point right now, so she’s gaining a little weight and not sacrificing her own nutrition for them. You seem to be keeping her where she needs to be. She’ll make faster progress once the puppies are nursing less, and especially after they’re weaned.”
Alana shut the corral gate behind them and gestured toward the paddocks. “Pick a horse, any horse,” she said. “I thought I’d ride Blaze.”
Tegan shook her head. “You’re the leader. You can’t be the one riding the most bombproof horse you have. Try Fitz today, since I’ll be here to help you with him.”
Alana haltered the large bay gelding and brought him into the corral. He had been easy for her to handle and ride, but she hadn’t ventured beyond the small fenced enclosure. Tegan had chosen Banjo. At least, Alana was pretty sure it was Banjo. He was one of the two geldings she couldn’t tell apart.
They groomed the horses in silence, serenaded by chirping birds and the muffled hammering sounds coming from the part of the ranch that was still unfinished. Alana wanted to ask Tegan about yesterday’s lunch, but she gave her space instead. Later, maybe, once a ride in the sunshine and open spaces of the ranch eased the worry lines from her forehead and put some color back in her pale cheeks.
Once they had saddled the horses, Alana led Fitz over to the mounting block.
“Hey,” said Tegan. “What are you doing?”
It must be a trick question, since the answer seemed obvious. Alana double-checked her cinch and scanned the rest of her tack. The horse was clean, and everything was in place.
“I’m getting on the horse. Why, is there some weird pre-trail ride ritual I’m not aware of?”
“Don’t use the block. Mount from the ground.” As if to illustrate her point, Tegan vaulted effortlessly onto Banjo’s back, which wasn’t saying much since he was one of the shortest horses in the string.
“Why make it harder than it has to be?” Alana asked. She had been using the block every day since she figured out what it was for.
“If something happens on the trail, and you need to dismount, how are you going to get back on? Or are you planning to have one of the horses haul the block like a sleigh on every ride, just in case you need it?”
“I can get on from the ground, I just prefer not to.” Alana thought her logic was sound, but Tegan didn’t look impressed, so she hauled herself—with considerable effort—onto Fitz’s back. Her graceless mount didn’t help her case much.
“That was pretty,” Tegan said.
Alana ignored her and headed toward the gate leading to the trails, which was closed. She sighed and started to dismount to open it.
“Uh-uh.” Tegan stopped her. “Open it from his back. You’ll come across gates during your rides, and you don’t want to dismount each time. Especially when it takes you five minutes and three tries to get on again.”
Tegan coached her through the frustrating process of shifting Fitz close enough to the gate for her to unlatch it, and then maneuvering him through it without letting go and having it swing shut again. She finally managed to open it, hold it for Tegan to walk through, and then close it again. Unfortunately, she was on the wrong side.
Tegan watched her with a grin, obviously finding the spectacle amusing. Alana finally got herself on the correct side of the latched gate and came up beside her.
“These rides can’t be fun enough to make them worth all this trouble,” she said. “We’ve been out here an hour, and we’re only ten feet from the corral.”
“You’ll get more efficient,” Tegan assured her. “Now, there are three main trails. The one to the right makes a short loop around the hill over there. It only takes about twenty minutes to walk and the terrain is flat, so it’s a good one for beginners. The one we’re taking is an hour ride. There’s another that branches off a little way up this main trail. It’s a beautiful ride and about the same length as this one, but it has some steep areas, and the footing is tricky in places. I can take you on it when you’re feeling more comfortable with these ones, but it’s not something I’d recommend for any but advanced riders.”
Tegan started walking along the main trail. Alana looked longingly at the shorter version, before asking Fitz to follow Tegan. She wouldn’t mind avoiding the steeper ride altogether, since she doubted Tegan had any useful advice to follow the phrase If your horse falls off a cliff…
“You should be in the lead,” Tegan said, coming to a halt and letting Alana pass. “The ground is soft from here to the next curve, so we can trot if you want. Just don’t let him get too fast. The horses will move out more in open spaces than in the corral.”
Alana stepped into the lead for the first time. It was only Tegan behind her, of course, but she let herself feel proud in this moment. She had worked harder to prepare for this job than for anything else she had ever done, and she—
“Are we going to trot or not?” Tegan called out, interrupting Alana’s celebratory internal monologue.
“Stop being a back seat driver,” Alana said, giving Fitz a strong jab with her heels. He flung himself forward into a horrible, bouncing trot. She lurched forward, then smacked back into the saddle before she managed to pull him back to a walk.
“What the hell was that?” she asked, turning him around to face Tegan, who was, of course, slumped over in her saddle, laughing. “You seem to spend most of my lessons in hysterics. It’s not good for my ego.”
Tegan wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, still giggling sporadically. “Sorry. You looked like a kernel of popcorn.”
Alana rolled her eyes. “Very nice. Seriously, is there something wrong with him?”
“He was trotting. I did warn you it’d be different out here than in the corral.”
“I didn’t realize move out more meant rattle the brain right out of your skull. I’m going to be sore tomorrow.” Alana reached back and rubbed her seat, trying to ease the sting from hitting the saddle.
“Need help with that?” Tegan asked.
“I might take you up on that massage later,” Alana said, noncommittally. She still hadn’t figured out if Tegan’s flirting meant as much as Alana wanted. She didn’t think Tegan would be the type to tease without follow-through, though.
“I hope you do. Come on, let’s finish the ride. I’ll show you how to post to the trot to make it more comfortable. Try to mimic what I’m doing.” Tegan set off down the trail at a slow trot. Alana gave Fitz a tentative squeeze with her legs and he followed. She would have been distracted by Tegan and the confident, rhythmic way she rode a horse, but most of Alana’s energy was focused on not falling off. Once she got the hang of posting, she started to enjoy the excitement of Fitz’s trot. He covered more ground with one step than Charm did with twenty.
* * *
By the time Tegan brought Banjo back to a walk, she felt like most of the residue from the day before had been washed out of her. She reached out and broke a small branch off a juniper growing alongside the trail, inhaling the sweet resin scent of it as she rode. A light breeze, growing stronger as they descended toward the river, balanced the heat from the sun. No sounds of civilization reached this far, where only the muted drone of the Naches and the occasional scree from a hawk broke the stillness. Add the horse moving cheerfully underneath her, and this would normally have been Tegan’s idea of a perfect day.
Now it was even better, because Alana was here. She was a new element in Tegan’s happy-place scenario, and she made everything else richer because she was here.
Their companionable silence was punctuated every once in a while by Tegan’s comments about how to balance when riding down a hill or how to stop horses from sneaking bites of grass during a ride. As much as she could, however, she tried to give Alana enough time to simply enjoy the ride without it being a constant lesson. She didn’t try to fool herself into thinking Alana would become a nature convert and would learn to love flaky red basalt and stunted sage as much as she did, but she was sure Alana was appreciating Yakima’s unusual beauty more than she had when she first arrived.
Once they had descended into the ravine, she steered Banjo onto a narrow side trail that led to a clearing on the edge of the river. She dismounted, leading the gelding across the slippery oval rocks and to a place where the water gathered in a calm pool before tumbling over some large boulders and disappearing around a bend. She took off her helmet to let the wind cool her while Banjo took a long drink. Alana joined her there with Fitz.
“I wish I’d had more time to teach you about birds and plants so you could identify them for your riders, but we have too many more important topics to cover.”
“It’s all right,” Alana said. “Every so often I’ll point behind the group and say, Look, a red-tailed hawk! Oh, darn, you missed it.”
Tegan laughed, but it dwindled into a sigh. “Thank you for coming on a ride with me today. It really did make yesterday easier since I was looking forward to being out here. To being with you.”
“Me, too.” Alana bumped Tegan with her shoulder and didn’t move away, staying in contact with her. “Was everything okay yesterday?”
Tegan shrugged. “The usual. I was stiff and silent. My grandparents pretended to be cheerful and normal, like we were a happy family that got together for lunch every week. Of course, if you’re trying to act like everything’s normal, it seems more abnormal than ever.”
“What about your mother?”
“She thrives on these types of situations. She gets to be the center of attention, plus she’s made all of us change our plans and sit through an uncomfortable meal just to accommodate her. The food was good, though.”
“I’ll bet,” Alana said with a soft laugh. “I ate half of that pie for breakfast the next day.”
Tegan was tempted to follow the subject of food, avoiding talking about her mother and focusing instead on the dishes her grandparents had served. She didn’t, though. She needed to confront what she had gone through head-on.
“I’ve been thinking about the ways I’ve contributed to the situation between me and my mom,” she started.
“It’s not your—”
Tegan put her hand on Alana’s arm to stop her, even though she liked the way Alana leaped to her defense. She turned so they were facing each other. “I know the choices she made and the situation I was in weren’t my fault. I’m not blaming myself for that. But when I was little and my mom would come back, I’d make a fuss over her. I’d plan menus with all her favorite foods, make her presents, fawn over her. Hoping to make her stay, but never succeeding. It sort of became a warped family ritual.”
They were silent again, and then Tegan said the sentence she had been chanting to herself like a mantra every time she thought about Alana and how much she wanted to be with her.
“You’re going away, too.”
“I am,” Alana said, her gaze direct and her words honest. Tegan was glad she hadn’t made an attempt to sugarcoat her plans by saying maybe she would stay, or who knew what the future would bring.
Tegan sifted her fingers through Alana’s bangs, her whole body tingling at the feel of her soft hair, slightly damp from being tucked under her helmet. “I survived it, each time she left,” she said. This mantra had replaced the other somewhere around midnight last night, when Tegan made her decision about Alana. “I can survive this, too.”
“You’re sure?” Alana breathed, barely above a whisper.
Tegan nodded, her hand on Alana’s cheek, her thumb caressing the corner of her mouth, drawing her closer until nothing was between them anymore. In their kiss, Tegan tasted sunshine and trail dust. Truthfulness and the promise of something spectacular, no matter how short.
Alana moved closer, her free arm around Tegan’s waist and her hand pressing on Tegan’s lower back, until they were flush against each other. Tegan felt her breasts cushioned against Alana’s, her hips shifting against Alana’s as desire built inside her. Their breathing grew more rapid, creating a friction between them with each rise and fall of their chests that pushed aside the last of Tegan’s doubts until she could only wonder at her initial hesitation. How could she possibly have refused this?
Alana’s tongue moved against hers, fleetingly there and then gone, and then Alana took a step back. She felt the gulf between them like an ache, even though Alana was still right there, looking as flushed as Tegan felt. Aroused, close, Alana’s hand shifting to rest on her waist. Yet, Tegan noticed an emptiness in every inch of her body where Alana had been in contact with her. After only a kiss. How much would she miss Alana when she was no longer close enough to touch? No longer in the same state, or maybe even the same country? And after they’d shared more of themselves than lips and tongues?
More than she realized, most likely. How certain was she that she wanted Alana anyway, no matter the cost? More than she could say.
Fitz pawed at the river’s edge, sprinkling them with drops of cold water and making them laugh and pull apart.
“We’d better start moving again before he decides to roll in the water,” Tegan said, putting her helmet on again.
They mounted and made their way back to the trail, riding side by side as soon as they climbed away from the river and the trail widened again.
Tegan talked as they rode, pointing out stories of lava flows that were told through the shape of basalt, and telling Alana the names of plants and trees that were unique to the area, giving her information to share with her riders. She didn’t have an agenda of wanting Alana to fall in love with Yakima and decide to stay. All she wanted was to share herself with Alana, as fully as she could, and no picture of her could be complete without including the details of this place.
“I have to go feed Charm and Rio,” Tegan said once they were back at the lodge and the horses were put away. She reached for Alana’s hand. “I don’t suppose you’d mind some company tonight? I could come by the house once I get the horses settled.”
Alana grinned. “I don’t suppose I’d forgive you if you didn’t.”
Tegan kissed her again, ignoring the temptation to linger, and walked back to her car. She couldn’t help but think about the last time she had been here with Alana. The first day they had met, when she’d come to the corral and had seen Alana standing there with her phone and a halter. Only a day later, Alana had come to her clinic and enlisted her help. Had they really only known each other a little over two weeks? And now their relationship was going to change again. In a normal situation, they might be moving too fast. But in this case, when their time together had an end point neither of them could predict, Tegan wasn’t about to slow down.
Chapter Thirteen
Tegan parked in the driveway next to Alana’s truck. They had only been apart for two hours, but she had missed her with an intensity she hadn’t expected after
just a kiss. This kind of pain would be exquisite if she could always assuage it by seeing Alana. It was going to be torture when she had to live without respite.
She got out of the Jeep, muttering to herself to stop dwelling on Alana’s departure. She had made her decision not to let it stop them from exploring a relationship, so she didn’t need to think about it again for a while. She’d have plenty of time to mope in the future, and she didn’t want to waste her time with Alana by focusing on what the time without her would be like.
She raised her hand to knock on the door, but Alana opened it a crack before she had a chance to do so. She reached through the narrow gap and grabbed Tegan’s arm.
“Quick. Before they escape.”
Tegan was estimating whether she had enough room to fit through the door—and she was fairly sure she didn’t—when Alana pulled her inside anyway. She pushed Tegan’s back against the door, using her weight to push it shut again, and braced her hands on either side of Tegan’s neck.
“Hi,” Alana said, leaning into her.
Tegan put her hands on Alana’s waist and held her close. “Hi back,” she said. She kissed Alana, feeling the curve of her smile against her lips and feeling the touch of her tongue all the way to her core. She encircled Alana with her arms, hugging her close and kissing her neck, her collarbone, her shoulder. Alana shivered at the contact, tilting her head to give Tegan better access. Tegan had been expecting an awkward entrance, but instead she felt as if she had come home. Except for the part where she had been tugged through the door, which had probably scraped some skin off her back, Tegan felt an immense and overwhelming sense of comfort.
Alana slipped her hands into the back pockets of Tegan’s jeans, cupping her ass in a way that would have felt wonderful if something else hadn’t been trying to puncture the skin around her ankle at the same time.
“Your guard dogs are exceptionally vicious,” she said. Alana took a step back, releasing her hold on Tegan, and looked down.