Love Tangle: Riding Bareback

by S. E. Margaux

  Tristan ran his hand through his hair.

  “What?” Anita asked, sensing the tension.

  “Well… it’s the ranch. Nikki says there are some issues, some guy called Beattie…”

  “Weattie?”

  “Yeah, him. Nikki says he wants to sell part of the ranch.”

  Anita listened to all the details, feeling her spirits fall at every word, but she pulled herself together when Tristan finished, and said, “I’m sure we’ll figure it out. Nikki’s great at this stuff, if anyone can fix it, she can.” She felt more confident as she said it. “We’ll figure it out. Somehow.”

  They both fell to silence, sipping on their beers. Tristan stepped to the barn door and gazed pensively into the twilight.

  “It’s so dark here,” Tristan observed after a few minutes. “I don’t think I’ve ever been anywhere so peaceful. You can’t see the stars, in the city,” he said, turning back to face Anita. She looked up into his penetrating blue eyes, and all the world’s worries seemed to lift off her. Anita felt her throat tighten and her pulse quicken, a warmth rising from her thighs to her cheeks.

  “Oh,” she murmured shyly. “Stars… haven’t you ever gone stargazing?”

  “I don’t know. Not since I was a kid, and we summered in the Hamptons. But that was a long time ago. But I could stare at these skies forever.”

  “You know the best place to stargaze?”

  Tristan shook his head.

  “The roof.” He looked at her, eyebrows raised inquisitively. “Come on, I’ll show you.” They walked through the barn in amicable silence, Anita eating the slice of pie Tristan had brought her. She licked a bit of jam from her thumb, put the rake with the other tools, and climbed deftly up the hayloft ladder. Tristan looked up at her, and she gestured for him to follow. In the dark, hot loft, she scrabbled over boxes and old riding gear to open a skylight in the roof, pulling herself through the open hatch. Staying low, she carefully crawled to the relative flat of the pitch. Tristan followed, tripping over worn saddles and tangled bridles, and sat beside her, his shoulder gently grazing hers.

  “You have to be above the other lights,” she said, gesturing to the single porch light by the ranch house. “That way, there’s nothing obscuring your vision.”

  They looked up into the violet sky; a sky Anita knew by heart. She had always preferred daytime to nighttime and in the dark, it was the stars that made her feel safe. They were the familiar blanket she had wrapped herself in since childhood.

  Tristan looked at the sky blankly. “What’s that star called?” he asked, pointing at the brightest object in the sky. Glowing slightly green, it had the pearlescent opaqueness of an opal.

  “It’s the Morning Star,” Anita smiled. “But it’s not a star at all. It’s Venus.”

  Tristan pursed his lips. “I’ve never seen a planet before.”

  “You probably just didn’t know it.”

  “Alright then, smart-ass,” he said lightly, folding his hands behind his head. “Give me an astrology lesson. What’s what where?”

  “Let’s see, let’s see,” Anita joked, “where to start with one so naive?” He playfully prodded her side and she squealed. “Ok, ok! That’s Orion,” she said, pointing up. “Can you see his belt? The three stars all aligned, and you can see the triangle of his shoulders and legs.”

  “I think I’ve seen that one from home.”

  “Well, you can see it almost everywhere, so probably. It’s the one everyone knows.”

  “Is this the creme-de-la-creme of your expert knowledge?” he mocked playfully.

  “Wait, I’m getting to it,” she said. “What most people don’t know is that if you follow the line of his belt, all the way down, that’s Sirius.”

  “Is that a planet too?”

  “No.”

  “So what’s his deal?”

  “I’m getting to it. It doesn’t look it, but it’s one of the biggest and brightest stars in the universe. It glows white and red because it’s actually not one star, but two: one large white star, and one small red dwarf star next to it.”

  Tristan followed the movement of her finger a moment, tracing his eyes across the sky. “Where did you learn about the stars?”

  Anita shrugged. “There wasn’t much else to know when I was a kid. I taught myself the skies instead of the names of television characters, or the words of songs. My parents would tuck me in, turn my light out, and the light of the moon and the stars would fill my room.”

  “It sounds amazing.”

  “It sounds romantic now,” she sighed. “But it means I always know where I am. Wherever I go, I can find my way home.”

  “Did you grow up far from here?”

  “Out of state. But not far.”

  “And is Orion your favorite?”

  “No,” she said, raising her arm to the skies again. Tristan shuffled to align with her gaze, and his strong, muscled arms pressed against her side. Anita became increasingly aware of the warmth of his thigh against hers in the cool summer air.

  “Just to the side of Orion,” she murmured softly, “is Pegasus, the winged horse. See the square? His legs rear out to the side.”

  “Why that one?” Tristan asked, his head next to hers.

  “I mean… he’s free. He can do whatever he wants. But also he’s a horse.”

  “You’ve always loved horses?”

  “It’s all I wanted when I was a kid: to have my own pony ranch. My parents were in produce farming, and they wanted so badly for me to take on the farm for them. But I’ve always loved horses.”

  “It can be difficult, disappointing your parents,” said Tristan, suddenly serious.

  “Is that why you left the city?”

  “Among other reasons,” he said nonchalantly. “Parents are just a more intense rendition of the expectations the world has of you. Parents project their fears onto their children — all their unfulfillment becomes your duty.”

  Anita had never felt she fully understood the guilt she had harbored for leaving her parents and the farm until that very moment. Tristan had put into words feelings she had had for years. Now, in his voice, she understood her own heart. She felt a rushing wave of relief wash through her: someone else felt the same. He looked at her, noticed her smiling at him. “What is it?” he asked, but she just shook her head.

  “Oh, nothing.” She moved her head to his chest, felt his arm snake around her shoulders.

  “I left my parents’ farm to come here,” she admitted then. “It’s not too far from here, about a day’s drive, but still. I felt guilty. They made me feel guilty, I think. I love them and all, and we get along, and I think they’re okay with it now. But at the time… It felt like I was betraying them, you know? They have a fruit farm further south. It was nice, and I learned to ride on my mother’s horse, and I had Wildfire, the last couple of years. But it just wasn’t what I wanted. I know it’s not quite as dramatic as leaving some big city…”

  “You can’t compare yourself to others like that. Your emotions aren’t less valid just because you experience them in different circumstances to others.”

  “I guess you’re right. And I did the right thing. You know, I get it: people who go out, looking for their destinies or their dreams or themselves or whatnot.”

  “You mean people like me?” Tristan asked. Anita couldn’t see him, but his voice had a smile all over it.

  “Yeah, people like you. And like me. All I ever wanted when I was a kid was to work on a ranch.”

  “And you are.”

  “And I am,” Anita agreed. “So why…” she stopped, wondering how to phrase her thoughts.

  “Why do you feel like there’s something missing?” Tristan finished her sentence for her. She felt him exhale, deeply. “Maybe it’s just how we’re made. Maybe there will always be something missing. You grow up in a big city, you start realizing that people always want more. More money, more things, more friends, more love...” He stopped short.

  Anit
a thought about this for a moment, then she shook her head.

  “No,” she said. “No, I think you’re wrong.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. Maybe the people you know are trying to fill up their emptiness with money and all that. But I don’t make a lot of money, and I’m perfectly happy with my job. I have great friends, I have Wildfire, I live where I’ve always wanted to…”

  “So what’s missing?” Tristan asked.

  “I don’t know. But I’ll let you know when I find out.”

  They lay in silence for a few minutes, each rolling over unspoken thoughts in their minds, each feeling the slight, nearly imperceptible quickening in the other’s heartbeat.

  “What did your parents do?” Anita asked. She had never been very good at tense silences. But she kept her head on his chest as he answered, and her ear to his heart.

  “Oh, you know. Business, this and that. I don’t know, my dad wanted me to get into it — the family firm. He wanted me to head to Harvard, become a lawyer like him. He wants to have someone for his legacy — like your parents.”

  “And law isn’t something you want to do?” Anita asked him.

  She felt his shoulder shrug beneath her, his fingers loosen on her skin. “It’s interesting, sure. But it’s not about the law, it’s the entire world that goes with it. I started the class but it was the people, the schmoozing, the socials that go along with it. It’s an entire network, and you’re a part of it or you’re not very good at your job. There’s a role you have to fill, and I wasn’t ready to be told who to be before I knew myself.”

  “I know what you mean. It’s the expectations again, isn’t it? The idea that who you are is already decided for you by someone else.”

  “Exactly. All I wanted was space to grow.” Anita looked at the endless rolling sky, cloudless and glittering. She sighed, and Tristan squeezed her shoulder. “I’ve found this space, with no boxes or labels, and I’m beginning to think I’ve found what I’m looking for.”

  Anita lifted her head, propping herself up so she could look into Tristan’s fierce midnight eyes. If ice melted into crystal Arctic pools, it would be the same shade and depth as his irises. He met her gaze, tucked her dark, wild hair behind her ear, and ran his fingers along her soft cheek. Without quite realizing, he was pulling her in and she was simultaneously falling into him. Her body searched out his, found him warm beside her, met only the resistance of his taut, muscled chest. She could feel his hot breath on her cheek, feel the quickening of his blood pulsing in his fingertips, which still pressed lightly on her chin. She closed her eyes.

  The screech of tires punctured the silence. The skidding of dust and stone rumbled like thunder. Anita sat bolt upright, staring at the blinding headlights flooding the yard with an unnatural yellow light. She felt Tristan sit up behind her. His hand went to her shoulder. “Who’s that?”

  That car came to a halt, and the driver door was thrust open. “Sally!” a voice yelled in the dark. “SALLY!” A man stumbled from the car, a bottle gleaming in his hand.

  “Oh no,” Anita murmured. She started, leaped up, scrabbling up the roof back to the hatch.

  “Who is it?” Tristan asked again, following her.

  “It’s Connor,” Anita said hurriedly, jumping into the hayloft and sliding down the step ladder. “Sally’s ex.”

  The voice kept screaming. “Get out here, I GOTTA TALK TO YOU. Now, SALLY!”

  Anita raced out of the barn and into the yard as the porch door swung open and Bella stepped out, with Jo and an ashen-faced Sally behind her.

  “You should leave,” Anita said, standing between the ranch house and Connor. The backlight of the porch cast a blue glow on her ebony hair. “Get back in the car and get out of here.”

  Tristan stepped beside her in silent solidarity. Connor’s dark clouded eyes, unfocused, looked him up and down.

  “Sally! SALLY! Who’re you? Who’s this? Did you replace me so easily? Move aside, man, I need to speak to Sally. It’s important. Out of my way.”

  Sally buried her face in her hands. Jo wrapped a comforting arm around her while Bella watched on, face blank.

  Tristan’s strong, dark brow furrowed as he looked at Anita; Anita looked back at him, speechless.

  “I believe you were asked to leave,” Tristan said calmly.

  Connor howled in rage and lunged forward. He flung the empty bourbon bottle to the ground, sending a spray of broken shards flying. Anita felt Tristan’s arm fly into her as he pushed her back, his full weight hitting her chest. She gasped, winded, as she hit the ground.

  “Sorry,” he murmured, rolling off her. “Are you ok?”

  Connor was yelling, striding towards the porch. Tears streaming down her face, Sally began to step forward, but Jo pulled her back. It was Bella who stepped forward instead.

  “Enough, Connor,” Bella said quietly. Anita had never heard her voice like that: the soft menace that felt both like a silken scarf and a hangman’s noose. He started to protest but Bella walked straight up to him, a lioness protecting the pride. She put a hand on his shoulder and firmly turned him around. “You’re leaving,” she said quietly, muttering something else in his ear and walking him back to his car.

  Tristan helped Anita up, still panting. “I’m so sorry, I thought the glass would hit you,” Tristan apologized again.

  “It’s okay. If anyone is going to bowl me over it should be you,” she joked, then paused awkwardly. “I mean, thanks for looking out for me.”

  Tristan ran his fingers through his perfectly disheveled locks. He brushed the orange dust from her shoulder, and his fingers lingered on the soft skin of her arm; she could still feel the warmth of his fingertips as he pulled away.

  Connor’s green Chevy disappeared down the drive. Bella walked back to the porch, spoke softly to Sally, and nodded when Jo said she would take her home. Tristan saw them walking across the yard together. “I should probably go with them.”

  “Yeah, of course. See you tomorrow?”

  “Bright and early.”

  “Maybe you can bring the eggs over so I don’t have to come get them.”

  He laughed and jogged into the dark to join the disappearing figures. Anita walked towards the house, following Bella inside.

  “I can’t believe Connor turned up.”

  “I know.”

  “I hope Sally’s ok.”

  “She’ll be fine. She’s better off without him,” Bella stated firmly.

  “Maybe.” Anita glanced over her shoulder at the disappearing figures as she closed the front door. “He seemed upset.”

  “He seemed drunk.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him drunk. Have you?”

  “Yes.”

  A moment of quiet, then Bella’s blank face lit up with a mischievous grin. “How about you and Tristan, though?”

  Anita looked up sharply. “What about us?”

  “Come on,” Bella smirked, “it’s so obvious.”

  “What is?”

  “You like him.”

  Anita felt her cheeks redden. “Whatever. Maybe. So what?”

  “Just an observation. I’d be wary of getting attached.”

  “Why?”

  Bella shrugged nonchalantly. “Oh, you know. People come and go. He’ll be on his way soon, I’m sure. We don’t have a permanent job for him here.”

  “We could, though, couldn’t we? Now that Connor has gone?”

  “And you’re not interested, yeah?” Anita blushed again. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Anita went to her room, dressing for bed quietly. She could already hear Nikki snoring down the hallway. As she turned off the lights, she noticed again the stars shining in the black sky. Tristan, too, stared at the skies as he went to his own bed — or so she imagined as she drifted off into a dream-filled sleep.

  CHAPTER NINE

  -

  The sound of rain against her window was light as a kiss as it roused Anita from sleep.


  No, Anita thought, listening more closely, not rain. It was too regular for rain, more like a steady drip, a tap… a knock? Anita opened her eyes wearily. She’d been having a dream, she thought. She stood up and walked to the window. The steady tap stopped when Anita opened the window. A playful breeze whirled up around her, sending ripples across her satin negligee. It pressed up against her body and billowed out behind her, and she closed her eyes to breathe in the night.

  “Anita?”

  It was barely more than a whisper, but she recognized the voice instantly. It was deep as the ocean and warm as summer rain, and she couldn’t suppress her smile when she looked down to see Tristan gazing up at her window.

  “Hey,” she said.

  He dropped the pebble he had been holding.

  “Hey. I can’t sleep. Every time I close my eyes I see stars.”

  “And you thought you’d rather see them for real?” She finished.

  “Yes. I was just going to go back to the roof, but then I wondered if, maybe…”

  “I’d love to.” Anita tried not to let her exhilaration show too much. “I’ll be down in a minute.” She closed the window and smiled, secretly, and opened the door to the hall. The house was in utter darkness, the hall and landing black with no moon or stars to guide her downstairs, but she had long since memorized the floor. Taking care to avoid creaking steps, she descended the staircase. She almost slipped into her shoes by the door but left them standing on the porch. The porch steps were cool against her feet, the ground firm and comforting, somehow.

  “Back to the roof?” Tristan asked as she came around the corner, and they started off.

  They walked side by side, and though they weren’t touching, Anita thought she felt his warmth beside her, but it was something more than that. She could have closed her eyes and known exactly where he was as if some invisible bond linked them together. They walked past the orchard and to the barn. It rose up above them, blocking out the stars, and as Tristan went to open the door, Anita stopped him.

  “No, wait.”

  “What?” he said, looking around at her, his eyes suddenly tinged with worry.

  “Just… Follow me.” The idea had come to her suddenly, and she grabbed Tristan’s hand in a moment of giddiness.