My Three Husbands

by Swan Adamson

  No.

  I couldn’t.

  I mustn’t.

  Not on my honeymoon.

  It was too low.

  I had a husband to think of.

  Any moment now, I thought, he’ll walk through that door. He’ll see me waiting for him. I teased my body into a purring state of arousal. I imagined Tremaynne’s busy hands all over me. His lips kissing me everywhere. Being compliant to his every wish. The hot steaminess of shared breaths, of naked flesh against naked flesh.

  The minutes dragged on. I felt like I was going crazy. I was totally exhausted yet slithery with sexual energy. And my addictions were kicking in big time with no hope of release. I couldn’t smoke in the room and I was afraid to smoke out on the deck for fear of triggering some new alarm. I was too restless to just lie there so I got out of bed and paced around the room. I opened the wine and drank it pretty fast. There was nothing with sugar or salt to eat, so I tore open and devoured all the low-cal fat-free snacks. Stuff I’d never heard of: organic rice cakes, dried seaweed chips, saltless wheatless eggless crackers. It was like eating air. None of it filled me up. I craved chocolate candy bars with gooey caramel fillings, hamburgers dripping with cheese, greasy french fries, giant glazed doughnuts.

  And nicotine. That craving no nonsmoker can ever understand. That horrible sensation that you’re going to jump out of your skin if you don’t light up real soon.

  Miserable, I crawled back into our giant queen-size bed, between the soft Egyptian cotton sheets, careful not to rip or injure my nightie. After ten minutes of twitching, scratching, and staring at the clock, I got out again.

  I ended up spending the first night of my honeymoon with Tru Brant, the movie star, instead of Tremaynne Woods, my husband. My Place or Yours, one of Tru Brant’s latest romantic-comedy hits, was available on the entertainment system.

  It was really bad.

  The sound woke me up. Sharp ticks on the big glass windows. Bits of tossed gravel.

  My romantic instincts flared up immediately. Who else if not Tremaynne? He must have gotten locked out or lost his door card. My nightmare was over. Relief turned my heart giddy with desire.

  I dashed excitedly out to the deck. It was like plunging into a dark unheated pool. The mountain air was sharp and stunningly cold. My nipples stiffened; the soles of my feet danced on the dew-slick flagstones. I could see my breath.

  At first I just ran along the balcony railing, back and forth, like an excited animal in a cage, smiling dumbly and peering down into the darkness. Below me was an open meadow and a giant stand of trees. Beyond the trees I could hear the impatient rush of the river.

  It took my urbanized senses a minute to remember that this wasn’t a Portland park ringed with houses. Wilderness spread out for hundreds of miles around me. The vast black sky was smeared with stars, so many and so clear that it made me dizzy to look at them.

  I leaned over the balcony, my tits hanging down like the water balloons I used to drop on cars from freeway bridges, and quoted the only Shakespeare I could remember: “Romeo, Romeo, whenceforth art thou, Romeo?”

  From deep within the trees I heard what sounded like a suppressed giggly laugh. I couldn’t be sure. As I now knew, animals made all kinds of weird noises.

  “Tremaynne?” I stage-whispered.

  Silence. I heard a rustle. From far back in the darkness of the trees a low urgent voice whispered: “Come down.”

  It had to be Tremaynne.

  “I’ll be right there,” I called softly.

  There were fire doors off the corridor, but if I used them to get outside I’d set off alarms and create another panic. So I decided to leave by the front door of the lodge and from there make my way around back, to where our suites were located at the end of a wing.

  For this secret tryst it was important to look romantic and unforgettable. I wanted Tremaynne to see me and think he’d never seen anyone so soft, beautiful, and alluring in his entire life. I wanted to stir his poetic and protective instincts.

  So I wore my long, crushed-velvet dress the color of midnight. Face hidden in the shadowy confines of its soft, cowl-like hood, I hurried along the dark stone corridors. A mysterious woman, in love.

  A cleaning crew was busy downstairs. It looked like every employee in the lodge had been pressed into service under Commander Geof Killingsworth. All the furniture had been cleared out of the Great Hall. Guys perched on enormous ladders were busy squeegeeing all the interior glass and wiping dry all the wood finishes. The glass doors were open and a broom brigade methodically swept water out onto the terraces. Enormous fans were blowing to dry the place out.

  I took the elevator down and hurried toward the lobby doors. I don’t know why I felt like I was doing something sneaky. I was a guest. I could do any damn thing I wanted.

  In my long velvet gown, I felt like a princess. What was this velvet-clad princess doing? Escaping from a castle? No, running to meet her lover. I lifted the hem of my gown as I made a swift, graceful descent down the broad flagstone entrance stairs and along the path in front of the lodge. I stopped for a moment to light a Marlboro, then excitedly rushed on to my mysterious assignation.

  It was very late or very early, depending on how you looked at it. The hour before dawn, that crossroads hour when magic drifts through the air like pollen and extraordinary things happen to ordinary people. At the end of this adventure, I would find sanctuary in the strong, loving arms of my prince. I could rejoice in his body and my own.

  A warning flashed through my thoughts, interrupting the flow of the fantasy. Something about birth control. I waved it aside. I didn’t want warnings. I didn’t want caution. I wanted life served steaming hot and beautiful.

  As the princess rushed to meet her secret lover, I mentally wrote, her full, eager breasts strained against the bodice of her tight velvet gown.

  Behind darkened windows the thin rich people slumbered and dreamed of suing the hotel for damages or trauma. Outside, it was nothing but stars and trees and a vast yearning silence. Living in the city, I’d never heard the kind of immense natural quiet that engulfed me now.

  Behind the building it was darker still. One narrow path threaded across the meadow and through the giant trees to the river. Shadows were heaped upon shadows. The river sang its urgent rushing tune.

  More and more space opened up around me as my eyes adjusted to the dark. True wilderness began just a few hundred yards from where I stood. It was so mysterious, quiet but deeply alive, a huge, breathing, completely unknown world.

  I stopped in the middle of the meadow, expecting Tremaynne to emerge from the trees and claim me. I was all his. My heart was beating fast. I knew he could see me. I didn’t want to speak. I didn’t want to call his name. I was there. I was his. That was enough.

  A shape appeared from the pool of nocturnal shadow and slowly approached me.

  It was not Tremaynne.

  Unless my husband had been transformed into an enormous white horse.

  For that’s what approached me in the star-spangled darkness. A giant white horse led by Kristin, the girl who’d mistaken me for Godiva.

  She smiled and put a finger to her lips. Then she brought the giant creature right up next to me.

  I moved away, skittish of its massive weight, its animal unknowability. The horse shook its head and snuffled, silvery vapor shooting from its nostrils.

  I just stood there, staring in surprise. I didn’t know what to say.

  Kristin held out the reins. “Your horse, oh my queen,” she whispered.

  “I don’t have a horse,” I whispered back.

  “The one you ride naked,” she said. “In the video.”

  “Oh. That.”

  Kristin kept her voice low. “That song you sang about naked passions? I could have written that song.”

  “Listen,” I said, finally coming to my senses, “did you see anyone else down there? In the trees?”

  “There wasn’t anyone else. Just me and him.”
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br />   “Him who?”

  “Him the horse. Chiron. I snuck him out of the stable. We’ve been waiting for you.”

  She was a fan so I tried not to sound disappointed. “Why?”

  “Well, look at him.” She stroked Chiron’s shoulder. “He’s the strongest, handsomest horse in the West.”

  I looked, still wary. Chiron was beautiful, I had to admit. He was perfect, like an illustration in a fairytale. A thick golden mane fell across his strong white neck. The silvery-gold cascade of his tail was so long that it swept the ground. The horse looked rare, noble, and incredibly strong.

  “I thought you might like to ride him,” Kristin said. “Like you do in the video.”

  “That was just a video,” I said.

  “It changed my life,” Kristin said solemnly.

  “It did?” I felt a thrill of pride but didn’t know what for.

  “You made me realize. Finally.”

  “Realize what?”

  “Who I am,” she whispered, eyes shining, voice husky with emotion. “What I am.” She stepped closer.

  Her intensity was pretty intense. She looked vulnerable and predatory at the same time. I knew I could have her if I wanted to. I could induct her into the sisterhood right then and there. I wasn’t totally unresponsive: Her need brought out my own. She wanted comfort, and so did I.

  But she looked so young.

  And I was married.

  “They’d fire me if they knew what I did,” Kristin confessed. “This is, like, the most expensive horse in the world. Andalusian. Mr. Brunelli just bought it.”

  “Marcello Brunelli?”

  “He’s going to breed it. So if anything ever happened to this horse—”

  “Well, thanks for showing it to me.”

  “You don’t want to ride him?” She sounded incredulous, as if she couldn’t believe I would refuse her extraordinary offer.

  I smiled meaninglessly.

  “How about just sit on him for a minute? I wouldn’t dare, but you—well, it’s kind of like he belongs to you.” She stared at me with that disconcerting blend of hope and hunger. “And I’d never forget it.”

  “It doesn’t have a saddle,” I said.

  “Mr. Brunelli keeps the saddle in his cabin.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “His cabin? Way out in the woods. On the river. It’s huge. A palace. But you don’t need a saddle with this horse,” Kristin insisted. “I’ll help you up. I’ll lead you around the meadow. Very slow. Like a queen. Like in the video.”

  “I can’t sit on a horse wearing this dress,” I protested.

  “Sideways!” she said eagerly. “I’ll help you. I used to raise horses. You don’t have to be afraid.”

  I eyed the massive white creature looming above her. Chiron eyed me. I didn’t know if it was me or Godiva who finally gave the fatal nod.

  I used to dream about horses when I was a girl, but I’d never been on one in my life.

  Chiron seemed perfectly docile when Kristin helped me up, but then nodded his head and stepped back and forth like he was having second thoughts.

  “He’s just getting used to your weight,” Kristin reassured me. “Whoa, boy.”

  “What am I supposed to hold onto?”

  “Just balance yourself so you don’t fall. You have to turn more sideways, almost like you’re riding sidesaddle.”

  How the hell did those women do it, I wondered. How did they manage to look poised and beautiful while corkscrewed sideways wearing heavy riding habits and hats with veils?

  “Go really slow,” I said when I was settled on the horse’s broad white back.

  “Here,” Kristin said, “take the reins.”

  It was like being handed the keys to a powerful new car. “Stay close,” I ordered.

  “Don’t worry. I’m right here.” She made a clucking sound and softly patted Chiron’s rump, then my thigh.

  We started off. It was more about trusting myself, and my sense of balance, than it was about trusting the horse. My confidence grew as we slowly made our way across the meadow.

  Kristin gazed up at me with rapturous eyes, like a besotted valet accompanying a queen. I straightened my back and tried to look noble. Queen Godiva on horseback in the River of No Return Wilderness Area.

  “This is like my dream come true,” Kristin said. “I don’t want to wake up.”

  I respected her fantasy and didn’t object when she pulled out a small camera and begged for a few snaps. I did my best to look memorable, smiling with my mouth shut.

  “Oh, Godiva. I’d do anything for you.” Kristin laid her head against my thigh, then began to kiss and caress it.

  To keep her, or me, from going any further, I flicked the reins. Kristin looked up at me, her eyes drowning with desire, as Chiron strode deeper into the trees and toward the river. The air was cold and sweet on my face and hands, but the heat emanating from the animal warmed me. Veils of silvery mist swirled along the surface of the river and trailed up its banks. The horizon blushed pink and a pale light seeped into the sky. A bird began to call out a sequence of tender liquid notes.

  “He must be thirsty,” Kristin said as Chiron moved steadily toward the river. His hooves crunched on the pebbly rocks heaped along the shore. I stiffened as he splashed into the water and lowered his head to drink.

  “Get me back on land,” I said.

  “Pull back on the reins,” Kristin said from the bank.

  The moment I did so, the horse gave its head an obstinate shake and stepped deeper into the rushing current. The water was fast but still pretty shallow along the shore. A few feet farther out it was so deep I couldn’t see the bottom. It looked like maybe there was a sudden drop-off.

  “Pull his tail or something,” I called to Kristin.

  “No, you have to rein him back,” she said. “Get his head up and turn him back around.”

  I pulled on the reins. Chiron resisted. I gave a sharp tug. That seemed to piss him off. He let out an annoyed snuffle, shook his head, and plunged another few steps into the river. His long golden tail swished up a spray of cold water.

  My perch suddenly felt extremely precarious. The rushing sound of the river filled my ears. I could feel the force of the current. If I looked down, all I saw was a dizzying sheet of moving water brightly freckled with morning light. I didn’t want to freak and do anything to further annoy the horse, but I was starting to feel prickles of panic.

  “Help me,” I called to Kristin. “Do something.”

  “I’m coming out there.” Kristin tugged off her boots and jeans. She was wearing boy’s underpants. Her legs were strong and shapely. She let out a gasp as she waded into the river. “It’s freezing!” She lost her balance but caught herself before toppling backwards. “The rocks are really slippery!”

  The horse looked at her with its big black eyes.

  “Come on, boy,” Kristin coaxed. Chiron ignored her. He turned to stare at the far bank. “Throw me the reins,” Kristin said, hobbling closer.

  I was afraid I’d slip off Chiron’s back if I made one hasty move. So when I tossed the reins it wasn’t far enough, and Kristin wasn’t able to catch them. The current took the leather straps and carried them downstream.

  Chiron shifted uneasily. He let out a soft whinny and stretched his long white neck.

  As I leaned forward to retrieve the reins, he took another step forward. The pebbly rocks gave way under his weight. I let out a squawk of terror as he started to slide down into the water. Sensing the danger, he tried to back up and regain solid footing.

  “Come on, boy, come on, come on,” Kristin pleaded.

  I scrunched forward, clinging to his neck. Beneath me I could feel the giant muscles and machinery of his flesh working to regain his balance.

  “Venus!”

  Just as the horse was wheeling around I heard someone shout my name from the opposite shore. It took a second before I dared to turn my head and look in the direction of the shout.

&nbs
p; I couldn’t see anyone. But I knew it was Tremaynne.

  I was certain of it.

  The minute Kristin was able to grab Chiron’s reins and lead the horse onto dry land, I jumped off and scanned the far side of the river. “Tremaynne!” I called, cupping my hands like a bullhorn.

  “Shhh!” A wet, shivering Kristin tied Chiron to a tree and scrambled to get her pants back on. “Please! If anyone hears you—”

  “Tremaynne!” I called.

  “They’ll hear you and come down to investigate. Security will.”

  “Where are you?” I yelled.

  “Please. Shhh. If they find out I took the horse . . . Please.”

  Her panic finally registered with me. “Is there any way to get across this river?” I asked.

  “Canoe,” she said, staring at me with a mixture of fear and longing as she jammed her feet into socks and boots.

  “Do you know how to canoe?”

  She nodded. “But I gotta go. Gotta get him back. Gotta dry him off.”

  “You said you’d do anything for me.”

  “I’m a coward,” she cried. “I’m not like you. My naked passions won’t ever become real.”

  I stared at her, dumbfounded. “Sure they will.”

  I reached out to stroke her hair, but she pulled away and refused to meet my eyes. “If he’s not back when the stable opens . . . It’s almost morning . . . Security.”

  She untied Chiron and quickly led him away.

  Chapter

  14

  Daddy was standing in the lobby, staring moodily at his model of the lodge, when I walked in. He looked at me like I was a ghost come back from the dead.

  “Venus. Honey. Are you all right?”

  I wasn’t, but I nodded.

  “Where’ve you been?” He glanced at his watch.

  “Went out to have a smoke.”

  He smiled in amused disbelief. “You can smoke on the balcony of your room, silly.”

  “I was afraid I might accidentally set off an alarm.”

  “That was very considerate of you.” He put an arm around my shoulder and kissed my cheek. “All these alarms and detectors and sensors and monitors. They’re a complete pain in the ass.”