"Perform… riding on your horse's backs?" Rose asked.
Tyler nodded. "I'll be taking them in pairs while demonstrating Roman riding."
Rose found herself blinking rapidly as the dream emerged yet again, almost as clearly as when she stood on the embankment at the Oregon coast while looking across a wide expanse of sandy beach at a man maneuvering six horses in an elongated figure eight.
Until fifteen minutes ago, when she peered into the clearing and saw Tyler interacting with six nearly-white horses, she'd pegged what happened on the beach as a figment of her imagination. She still wasn't absolutely sure it wasn't a dream.
Brows gathered, she said, "Do you ever run your horses on the beach at the coast?"
"Why would I do that?" Tyler asked.
"I suppose no reason," Rose replied, feeling foolish, realizing once and for all that what transpired at the coast had been nothing as glamorous and romantic as having witnessed the man in the dream her grandmother described come to life at daybreak on an isolated beach. Nor did she want to have romantic feelings for Tyler, so in a sense it was a relief to know that what she'd witnessed had been a fantasy, by whatever form it materialized.
"Actually I do take them there on occasion," Tyler said. "The sand's good for their muscles, taking them into the surf tests their complete trust in me, and they like running in the water."
Rose tried to process the reality of it. This man, who lived in an otherwise spiritual vacuum, had an almost mystical bond with his horses. She was even having trouble convincing herself that she should stay clear of someone whose short term goal was to desecrate a spring that hundreds of people praised. But there was still a chance that his trip to the coast and her dream were isolated incidents. On the long shot that they were, she said, "Did you happen to take them there a couple of weeks ago?"
Tyler eyed her curiously, like her question surprised him. Then he nodded, and replied, "I check the tide tables and go early in the morning of a low outgoing tide, when no one's on the beach, but apparently you were there too."
"Yes," Rose said, "but not on the beach. I was on a rise above the beach. The family of a friend of mine has a weekend house and when the family's not using it, friends can stay. It was a clear night so I decided to sleep out. I love sleeping under the stars and do it whenever I can, and I especially love it at the ocean where the sky's wide open and you can see forever."
Tyler looked at her in a way that had Rose's heart hammering because it was the same look she'd seen him give his horses when he was happy with them—eyes that were soft with affection, a slight smile on his lips. But the next moment his eyes began moving slowly over her face and pausing, as if studying her features.
Feeling unsettled with his close perusal, she glanced over at his horses, which were standing in a group looking their way, and said, "How have you managed to teach your mares all the things you have? My family has always had horses, but what you do with yours is amazing."
"Not really," Tyler replied. "It's all about herd instinct. Horses are social animals that depend on a leader for survival, so if the leader turns and runs, the herd instinctively follows."
"That explains why they follow you," Rose said, "but not how you got them to do things in unison, like loping around you in a circle."
"That's just copycat behavior," Tyler replied. "Synchronized reactions are characteristic of herd animals. A foal cantering alongside its mother often matches her strides in perfect cadence, and in the same way, my mares mimic what I do since I'm their leader. Then I show them lots of affection to let them know I'm pleased, so they have a strong desire to do what I ask them to do."
"How long does it take to get them to do things?" Rose asked, realizing it was a ridiculous question that had no exact answer, but her thoughts were scattered between her reaction to Tyler's presence, what he was able to do with his horses, and the realization that she'd never been awestruck before and she was having trouble processing the unfamiliar feeling.
"It varies with the things," Tyler replied.
"A month? Two months? Six months to train them?" Rose asked, because she'd run out of questions, mainly because Tyler was a distraction that made her thoughts jump around.
Tyler smiled, which made Rose edgy, not knowing if he was amused with her mindless cross-examination, or because he'd picked up on her female reactions to him, which had to be evident in the heavy beating of her heart, which was pulsating in her neck, and her quickened breathing, which she could do nothing about except fill her lungs with air and try to settle things down, which he no doubt picked up on because he seemed to be an unusually perceptive man.
"I don't count the days or hours," Tyler replied. "Two of my mares have never performed with the team, but with luck they'll be ready by the time we leave for Wyoming."
"That's a thousand miles away. Will you trailer them there by yourself?" Rose asked, while wondering about the whole process of moving and stabling that many horses that distance. His magnificent mares were definitely not your average rodeo horses. She could not begin to imagine what they were worth.
"I've contracted with professional horse transporters," Tyler replied. "I have a brother who lives in southeast Oregon who'll meet me there. Josh raises bucking bulls with my brother, Jeremy and his wife, Billy, who live… somewhere, and Josh will be bringing a couple of Billy's bulls, so he'll be helping me at the other end."
Rose puzzled over Tyler's wording. "You said Jeremy and his wife live somewhere. Does that mean they live near your other brother or somewhere else?" she asked.
"Somewhere else," Tyler replied.
"Where?" Rose asked, still baffled by the exchange.
"I don't know," Tyler replied.
"You don't know where your brother lives?" Rose asked.
"It's a long story," Tyler replied. "Josh is looking after Billy's bulls until she and Jeremy can return home from where they are right now, and that's all I can say."
Rose thought about that. It made no sense, but it made no difference either because beyond her job at the museum, she was not directly involved with the Hansen family. Except that the youngest of the sons was dominating far too much of her mind.
Deciding it was time to cut this encounter short, she said, "I'd better get on with exercising Tundra and finding materials for my baskets."
To her surprise, Tyler lifted his hand to her face and said, while tracing the outline of her cheek and the angle of her jaw, "You have good bone structure."
It was an awkward thing for him to say, and Rose wasn't sure what to make of it, except that for some reason she thought it was a compliment. The man was perplexing. The only thing she could think to reply was, "So do you."
Tyler smiled, which she found both arousing and unsettling, arousing because she got the impression he was interested in her, and unsettling for the same reason. But as she stood looking at him, he slowly moved toward her, as if he were about to kiss her, and when she thought he would, he stopped, squared his shoulders and did nothing.
After a stretch of silence, Rose tightened Tundra's leash, and said, "I guess I'd better get back," then quickly turned into the woods. But as she retraced her tracks, with Tundra following along on the leash, her feelings were more conflicted than ever. After having watched Tyler with his horses, playing with them as if he were one of them, and seeing the affection between them, she knew it would be impossible to unravel such a man, one who communicated with horses on a level that transcended normal human-animal communication, yet he refused to believe that the voices in the mountain could be anything more than steam seeping through cracks because the voices didn't touch that special place in him that could connect with horses.
Why she couldn't let the man go, and shove all thoughts of him from her mind, she couldn't understand. But she also realized he wasn't the dispassionate man she'd thought him to be, at least not with his horses, but it was the human connection that he lacked, which was why he was dispassionate about what he perceived to be ill-inform
ed people hearing non-existent voices. But now, her continued attraction to the man was more confounding that ever.
CHAPTER 4
Rose gazed around Grace and Jack Hansen's dining table, where they were all finishing a meal of pot roast, garden-grown vegetables, and home baked bread, and topping it off with a fresh-baked blueberry pie. Jack sat at one end of the table and Grace at the other. Beside Rose was Maddy, the youngest of the Hansen offspring and the only girl. Directly across from them were Maureen and Howard Barker, Jack Hansen's mother and step-father.
Maureen's mother was the one who brought their Indian heritage to the family. Rose could see it in her dark eyes and higher cheekbones, but that was all, and Jack Hansen just looked like a man with dark hair, dark eyes and a face and hands bronzed by years of ranch work.
For the evening, Tundra was penned up in a fenced yard behind Marc and Kit's house, and to make sure he didn't try to dig under, or tear the fence down, she'd put in some short stakes the day before she moved in, and stretched an electric wire near the ground and hooked it up to a temporary fence charger. Tundra kept himself occupied, challenging the wire by nipping at it between pulses and occasionally getting zapped, which was a reminder to stay back. Rose was amazed that he could detect the pulses though, because they made no sound.
It had been four days since she watched the big semi-truck with the long horse trailer leave the ranch, with Tyler following in his truck, but as exasperating and disconcerting as the man was, he'd been on her mind most of the time. She'd even returned to the spring and lit an incense of cedar, aware that its sweet balsamic scent was known for cleansing negative energies, and since her goal had been to dismiss Tyler from her mind, she purposely concentrated on the image of him in the cavern, chipping away with his hammer and chisel. But as she attempted to hold that image, a swirl of cedar smoke wrapped around her nostrils, bringing with it her grandmother's words about meditating...
"Begin your journey into the spirit world with prayer and meditation by breathing deeply," Granna said, "and when you exhale, release your worldly wants and focus on an idyllic place like an ancient forest with a mountain stream, or a glen covered in flowers. Move about in this world, seeing, smelling and feeling everything around you. Open your mind to any and all messages..."
Before long, her vision of an idyllic forest setting morphed into images of Tyler playing with his horses in the meadow, and interacting with them like a father with his children, and standing on them as they sailed over a log, which brought her back to the scene on the beach…
"I'm really glad you joined us for dinner, honey," Grace said, drawing Rose's attention from her succession of thoughts about Tyler. "Marc and Kit are so happy to have you here while they're gone. We all admire your beautiful baskets, and Sophie and Emily are anxiously looking forward to your basketweaving workshop."
"This is my dream job," Rose replied. "My degree is in Native American Studies with a minor in art, and my passion is basketweaving, so this is perfect for me. It's also close to home. I've never been one to venture off very far. I like it around here."
"Then you still live with your family?" Grace asked.
Rose nodded. "For the moment. My folks like having me with them, and since my dad has a small cattle operation, I can keep my horse there. But I need to be on my own some too, so I'm looking into buying a small piece of property nearby."
"We've got it made here," Maddy said. "Dad gave us each a parcel of land to do with what we want. My piece isn't far from here because I'm the only girl and got first choice." She smiled in jest at her dad, who smiled back and winked. "My older brothers and I have parcels close to the lodge where there are people and activity, unlike my brother, Tyler, who's a recluse."
"Where is his place?" Rose asked, and tried not to sound too interested.
"At the dead end of one of the ranch roads," Maddy replied. "Pick any one of the latest environmentalist buzz words, like living green, or sustainable living, or minimalism, and that's Tyler, except that he lived that way before it became trendy. His place backs up to BLM land so there's no one there but him and his mares, which is the way he likes it. He's not really human though. He's a centaur who looks and acts human, but his long mane of hair gives him away."
Rose caught the twinkle in Maddy's eyes and laughed lightly, although she was surprised at Maddy's terminology because when she'd seen Tyler on the beach with his horses, the word, centaur, was what came to her. "I take it you've studied Greek Mythology," she said.
Maddy nodded. "In one of my classical studies classes. Centaurs have the torso of a man and the body of a horse, which is pretty much what Tyler looks like when he's standing on top of them, and they lived in caves, and Tyler's always had a fixation on Whispering Springs. He's definitely a centaur."
Howard Barker eyed Maddy with amusement, and said, "Centaurs were also known to be violent, live on wine and meat, and carry maidens off to their lairs. Tyler doesn't like wine, he hasn't got a violent bone in his body, and as far as we know he lives alone with his horses."
"I have a theory on that too," Maddy said. "My theory is that Tyler descended from Cheiron, unlike all the other centaurs who descended from Ixion, so whereas the other centaurs were known for their bestial behavior, Cheiron overcame that side of a centaur's nature and became a tutor to the other centaurs, which is definitely Tyler. He can be a real bore at times with all his scientific theories."
Rose couldn't dispute the part about the scientific theories. Tyler did seem somewhat long-winded with his accounts about geysers and hair being an extension of the nervous system, but there was nothing about him that she found boring. Tedious and exasperating maybe, but definitely not boring.
Looking askance at Maddy, she said, "When I was out looking for basket-making materials I must have ended up close to Tyler's place because I found him working with his horses in a meadow and he gave me a pretty in-depth explanation about how he got them to do what he wants, so maybe I'll consider the centaur-as-a-tutor angle."
Maddy chuckled. "You'll be convinced if you stick around him long enough, which isn't easy to do. Most people can't figure him out because he is a centaur, so they leave him alone, which is fine with Tyler. I can see him when he's around ninety, still living out there with his horses, but he'll have long white hair and a long flowing beard and by then he will have forgotten how to communicate with humans and he'll become a legend. The Centaur of Spirit Mountain."
Rose eyed Maddy with uncertainty. "That's the mountain the reservation's on," she said, wondering if Maddy was trying to make a point, whether it was a poke at Indian legends, or because of Tyler's Indian appearance.
"It's also the mountain that Tyler's place backs up to," Maddy said. "Well, actually the ranch backs up to the foothills of Spirit Mountain, but maybe some of the spirits in the mountain will wander onto Tyler's place and get through to him. He lives in a spiritual vacuum."
Jack, who had been sitting silently at the end of the table while seeming to be taking everything in, said to Maddy, "Tyler has a spiritual side. He just hasn't tapped into it yet. When the awareness finally comes, it will come through his horses."
Rose looked at Jack Hansen with curiosity. She'd seen him working horses and moving cattle and involved in ranch work with another son, Adam, but she never thought the man could have a philosophical side. She also thought he could be right. The problem was, Tyler could decimate Whispering Springs before coming to any kind of spiritual realization.
Before anyone could respond to Jack's statement, the phone rang. Jack motioned for Grace to remain seated, then shoved his chair back and answered the phone in the kitchen. From the one-sided conversation it was clear that he was talking to either Tyler or Tyler's brother, Josh, because the conversation centered on the rodeo in Wyoming.
When Jack hung up, he announced, "That was Josh. He said Billy's bull, Wild Card, got a bull score of forty-eight, and her Mexican bull, Vortex, got a forty-two, so that's good news. He also said Tyler's perfo
rmance yesterday went well and he posted it on You Tube. It's up now."
Maddy smiled broadly and immediately shoved her chair back, while saying to Rose, "Come on. You might as well see the centaur in action. He doesn't much like rodeo crowds though, but tolerates them because they're his bread and butter."
Rose heard a slight derogatory grunt from Jack, and wondered exactly how expensive it was, hauling horses that were obviously very valuable, around to rodeos, as well as maintenance costs for the animals. Then she recalled that some of their maintenance, the veterinary care, would be partially covered, since his cousin, Rick, was a vet.
They all moved into the family room, a large room with log interior walls and windows on three sides, and took their places in overstuffed leather recliners, while Jack sat on a couch, in front of a laptop computer on a coffee table that was positioned in front of a large-screen TV, like viewing You Tube videos was a normal occurrence there.
After a couple of minutes the TV screen filled with movement and activity, and the room became alive with the sounds of a crowd cheering, while a voiceover announced, "From the great Roman Empire, and riding under the spotlight, please welcome Tyler Hansen with his six-horse-hitch, Moon Dancers, a team of magnificent Lusitano mares..."
As the announcer spoke, Tyler entered the darkened arena with his horses in three pairs, the procession that was illuminated beneath the lights looking much as they had at the beach when the horses emerged from the fog, with Tyler standing on the pair in the rear. But this time, instead of the quiet rhythmic restlessness of waves washing and receding against the sandy beach, the scene was accompanied by catchy music, the fast rhythm raising the level of excitement of the crowd, who clapped and cheered and stomped their feet with enthusiasm as Tyler took the horses around the arena at breathtaking speed.
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