by Sky Winters
“Maybe they did not approach him with the right level of respect,” she suggested innocently.
“Maybe they did not, but how did you know what to do?” he demanded, though his eyes betrayed the respect he was feeling towards her in that moment and immediately put her at ease.
“I love horses,” she said, unable to keep a wide grin from spreading across her face. She could not keep the joy from her expression when she spoke of horses, though she knew that she should be attempting to look sorry for disobeying him.
“You rode him bareback,” he continued, looking at her with an unblinking stare as though he expected her of being not entirely real.
“Yes,” she said. It was her favorite way to ride. It had been since she was young. It was so exhilarating because it made her feel as though she was truly one with the animal.
“And you are wearing a dress,” he said, staring at her in a way that might have been considered rude had she not presented such an odd sight.
“Well, yes I am. I will tell you that it was not the easiest thing to do. All these darn skirts just get in the way,” she said as she ran her hands along her dress to try and smooth her skirts.
“You are very different than you seemed in your letters,” he said with a twinkle in his eyes that made him even more handsome than she had first thought him to be.
“How many letters did we exchange?” she asked boldly, her eyes locked with his.
“Three,” he murmured, though it was clear his mind was still buzzing as he tried to process the scene he had come upon.
“One cannot fully express herself in three letters,” she offered as though it was the most rational of explanations.
“True,” he answered, looking unconvinced. “Would you care to ride with me in the morning tomorrow?” he asked, looking for the first time as though he would actually prefer her company.
“Can I ride Thor?” she asked eagerly.
“Thor?” he asked in confusion.
“That is what I have named the stallion,” she offered, looking again at the animal with fondness as he nuzzled his snout into her hand affectionately.
“If he will let you, be my guest,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief.
“Why did you come back here this morning?” she asked as he turned to leave.
“I just had a feeling that there was something I was supposed to be here for,” he said with a grin as he turned and left to ride off towards the range. As she watched him go, she had to admit that she had never seen a more attractive man in her entire life and she was suddenly very thankful for whatever force had sent her through time and space.
Chapter 6
On the following morning, Sarah rose even earlier than usual. She quickly went to the kitchen of the ranch and made a stack of flapjacks, and left them waiting for Peter on the table. Then, she ran out, too excited to eat. The thought of riding Thor across the range of the ranch was too exciting to her. She could not sit still.
She had chosen to borrow a pair of trousers from one of the stable boys. She had spent the entire evening before sewing them into the closest approximation of the riding pants she was used to. Though she knew that they might appear scandalous, she could not be hampered by the restrictive skirts of the time. She was going mad, stuck in the past with no hint of when she might be able to return to her own time. She needed the release of riding freely on Thor.
When she reached the corral, Thor seemed eager to greet her, rushing across to meet her at the fence. She reached out a welcoming hand to pet him and whinnied gleefully. She grabbed the same rope she had used the day before and quickly mounted him. She was guiding him in circles around the corral when Peter arrived.
“Good morning,” she called to him, making no effort to stop Thor’s motion. It felt too good to stop riding again.
“You are already mounted,” he said with a surprised smile on his face.
“Well, I thought he would respond better if we began, just he and I,” she said, patting her mount to reassure the horse, who was made more nervous by Peter’s presence.
“How did you know so much about horses?” he asked, looking at her in awe.
“It comes naturally,” she admitted, thinking of the way the ranch was in her own time and all the horses that she had worked with over the years. The thought of never getting back to that life was enough to bring a tear to her eye.
“Let's go then,” he said, seeming to sense that something more was the matter.
After he spoke, he reached for the gate to the corral and she and Thor took off without looking back. She heard Peter run to his horse and take off after her. The freedom and the joy that bubbled up within her were intoxicating and she gave Thor free reign to run wild. He was so quick that it took Peter almost five minutes to catch up to them. When he finally did, she expected to see a look of annoyance on his face. Instead, she saw the same joy that she felt reflected on his face.
They rode freely together for hours. It was as though they were completely in sync, communicating without saying a single word. Each time their eyes locked, Sarah felt a jolt of electricity run through her like nothing she had ever felt before.
When they finally returned to the ranch, they dismounted in silence, neither of them willing to break the beauty of the moment. She put Thor in the corral and Peter tied his horse loosely to a nearby hitch post. She expected him to tell her that he would escort her to the house and then return to his men in the field. Instead, he grabbed her hand and pulled her into the nearby stable. The building was deserted and filled with the sweet smell of straw.
“You were remarkable,” he said as he impulsively pulled her into his arms.
“Thank you,” she said, breathless from their sudden closeness.
“I have never seen a woman so at ease on a horse,” he said, his hands exploring the curves of her body as he gazed into her eyes.
“Thank you,” she repeated, not sure exactly what to do. She wanted him. That much she was sure of. She just was not sure how to tell him without giving herself away and she did not want to be with him while he thought she was another.
“You surprise me,” he said as he dug his hands in to her hair, sending the pins that were holding her braid in place flying.
“I’m about to,” she whispered in his ear as she gave in to her desire for him.
With that, she wrapped her arms around his neck and knocked the hat from his head so that she could run her fingers through his hair. He moaned in approval as her hands traveled down his neck and settled on his muscular shoulders. His hands went to her waist, and he pulled her even closer to him.
She was so hungry for him that she could barely think straight. All she could think about was how desperately she wanted him. She could not remember ever being so drawn to a man before. Based on the need she read plainly on his face, the feeling was mutual.
“I am sorry,” he finally said, his hand raking through his hair in frustration.
“What are you sorry for?” she asked, not sure what could have happened to change his mood so dramatically. She wanted nothing more for him to return to her and take her in his arms once more.
“I should not force my attention on you when you have not told me if you feel that marriage is in our future,” he said, his tone formal and businesslike.
“There is no need to apologize,” she said, closing the distance between them and taking his hand in hers reassuringly.
“You are so bold and yet so sweet and gentle,” he said as he placed his warm palm against her soft cheek.
“I am just a woman who knows what she wants,” she replied, her own guilt and frustration with herself for sleeping with him before she told him who she truly was rearing its ugly head.
“Are you sure?” he asked, raising her hand to his mouth and kissing her palm sweetly.
“Yes,” she answered and she knew in that moment that she meant it. However she had come to be in the past, she knew in her heart that what she felt for him was true. It had
been instant and all consuming. It made no sense, of course. She had known him for a matter of days and they knew so little about each other. Still, she knew herself well enough to know that it was real.
“Thank God,” he muttered as he pulled her close and kissed her soundly. He lay her down on a bail of hay, where together in that magical barn, they made sweet love.
“That was amazing. I would not change a moment of it,” she said as she lay her head on his chest and listened to the beat of his heart.
“I should have waited until we were wed. I am sorry,” he said, innocently kissing her on the top of her head.
“I am not,” she said, closing her eyes and inhaling the scent of him, trying to commit it to memory.
“I made love to you in a barn,” he said with a sarcastic chuckle.
“It was beautiful,” she whispered, desperately hoping that the feeling would last.
“Yes, it was,” he sighed as he lay his cheek on the top of her head.
Chapter 7
Sarah’s peace and happiness were not long lived. The next afternoon, she was in the corral brushing Thor when she heard Peter coming towards her. She looked up, expecting the warm eyes of her lover. Instead, she saw a gaze filled with anger and accusation.
“Who are you?” he demanded, a piece of paper crumpled in his hand.
“What are you asking me?” she said, unwilling to shrink away from his anger. She placed her and on her hip and held her ground, daring him to confront her.
“I just got a letter from the real Julie Parsons. She says that she is sorry but she cannot bring herself to leave the city for a life on a ranch. I will ask you again, who are you?” he growled, throwing the letter in his hand to the ground.
“I never told you I was Julie Parsons. You all kept telling me I was Julie Parsons,” she said dismissively. It was true that she had never corrected them, but that had been for her own safety and she could not apologize for doing what she needed to do to survive.
“Who are you?” he yelled, making the effort to keep his temper in check.
“You would never believe me if I told you,” she said in all honestly. She had wanted nothing more than to tell him who she really was from the moment she met him but it would not have been wise. She was, in this time or her own, above all a practical woman. Self-preservation had been of paramount importance. She could not apologize for it.
“You tricked me into making love to you so that I would have to marry you,” he accused, towering over her as he spewed the words.
“That is a lie,” she yelled, her own temper flaring. She might not have told them the truth of the situation that had brought her into his life, but she had given her body to him because she wanted him. She would not allow herself to be accused of being the kind of wanton, selfish woman who would use her body to trap a husband.
“Prove it,” he snapped, smashing his fist into the railing beside him in anger.
“It is a lie because I have no intention of marrying you,” she answered, her voice steady and clear as she spoke.
“You looked me in the eye and told me you knew what you wanted,” he cried, so furious with her that she thought smoke might begin to pour from his ears.
“Yes, I wanted you physically,” she said, unashamed of her desires. What she would not admit to him what that her heart had ached for him as much as her body had.
“But you will not marry me?” he demanded, stunned by her words.
“No. Rejoice because you are quite free,” she said, turning on her heals and marching away from him.
Peter was so frustrated that he could not form adequate words to call her back. Instead, he jumped on his own horse and rode furiously towards the range. It was the one place where he could calm himself and clear his head, both of which he knew he needed to do before he faced her again because, despite the proof that she was not who he had thought her to be, it did not lessen his desire for her.
Chapter 8
Hours later, Peter returned to the ranch house to confront her once again and to get the answers that he demanded. He had thought he would find her in her room, carefully crafting her apology. Instead, he found an empty room. Indeed, every trace of her was gone and this made him so angry that he picked up a small china flower from the dresser and heaved it against the wall with all his might. As he watched the fragments fall to the ground, he thought of the buttons on her dress falling to the ground when they had made love and he was suddenly desperate to find her. He stormed to the kitchen, sure that he would find Patty there and hopefully the woman he had thought to be Julie Parsons.
“Where is she?” he demanded when he found Patty.
“Whatever do you mean?” she said without looking up from the pot that she was scrubbing.
“I went up to her room and it is empty,” he said, trying to keep his voice level.
“Well I am sure I do not know anything about it,” Patty said, though she did finally look up and the pointed gaze she gave him told Peter that she knew all of what had transpired.
“Where is she Patty?” he asked, his voice now soft and sad at the thought that she might be lost to him.
“I do not know, but who could blame the girl for leaving after the way you yelled at her,” Patty answered, seeming to be unbothered by the secrets that she had kept from them.
“She lied to me,” he said defensively.
“Only about her name,” Patty said, waving her hand dismissively.
“And what she was doing here,” he pointed out, his temper beginning to flare again.
“She has said from the start that she did not know how she came to be here,” the older woman said, her eyes sad and her thoughts filled with worry about the sad and scared girl who had seen the ranch as a safe place to hide. She did not know what had brought her to them, but she was sure that she was supposed to be on the ranch with them. Not many are built for such a life but she could sense that the girl was born for it just as Peter had been.
“A lie to get close to me,” he scoffed, allowing his temper to take hold of him again.
“Like you are some prize?” Patty said with a snort and a quick shake of her head.
“Patty,” he exclaimed, shocked by the way she was speaking to him. For most of his life, she had fussed over him like a second mother.
“No, you listen to me. You have come alive since that girl got here. Who cares what brought her. If you do not go after her, you will regret it every day of your life,” she warned, her wide eyes telling him that the words she spoke were the truth.
“I could write to the agent for another mail order bride. They had no trouble finding me the last one,” he said defiantly, unwilling to admit the depth of feeling that had grown in him for the mystery woman who had come into his life.
“Is that what you want? Some other woman to come here and share your life and your bed with?” Patty asked, her unblinking gaze challenging him to lie to her.
“No,” he admitted, shivering at the thought of spending his life with another woman.
“I did not think so,” she said, looking weary from their conversation.
“I do not even know her real name,” he admitted, his sadness and hurt apparent.
“Well then you ought to go find her and ask her before it gets to be too late and you lose her just as quick as you found her,” she advised, her words steely in their resolve.
“Thank you Patty,” he said, kissing her gently on the cheek before running out of the kitchen. If he knew the woman at all, he knew exactly where to find her. He was a bit ashamed he had not realized it before.
Chapter 9
Peter did not stop until he reached the corral. There, with her suitcase lying on the ground behind her, was the woman that he loved. She was sitting on the top railing with Thor nuzzled up against her. Something about the sight of her there with that horse was so much more alluring to him than any of the other womanly charms one usually was drawn to.
"I thought I might find you here," he said a
s he approached her.
"I was not going to steal him. I just wanted to say goodbye," she said without looking up at him. She was clearly angry with him and made no effort to hide it.
"You wanted to say goodbye to the horse but not to me," he countered, his own anger clear
"I think we said everything that was left to say when we spoke last," she said, though she did finally turn towards him. Behind her anger was pain and all he wanted was to take her in his arms and heal that hurt.
"No we did not," he said. He reached for her hand but she pulled it away defiantly.
"Well then go ahead and say whatever it is you have left to say. Then I will go and leave you in peace," she answered, squaring her shoulders and summoning all of her courage to face whatever he might have left to say to her.
"I should have told you that my life has been brighter with you in it. I should have said I do not care who you are or who you were. I should have told you I love you and I want you to be my wife," he said. When he reached again for her hand, she did not pull away. She let herself take comfort from him, though she was hesitant to believe his words.
"Your wife? I thought you hated me," she said, looking away from him again and staring off at the distance.
"No, I most definitely do not hate you. I think that is why I got so angry when I thought you had deceived me," he explained, remembering the hurt and rage he had felt when he read that letter.
"I did not mean to be dishonest," she said, still unsure how to tell him who she really was without causing him to turn his back on her.
"I know that. I should have realized it sooner. Be my wife," he said, lifting their joint hands to his chest and holding them their so that she could feel his heartbeat.
"What about your plan for a practical mail order bride?" she asked, remembering the businesslike manner with which he had first greeted her.