Love Tangle: Riding Bareback

by S. E. Margaux

  “We don’t know that,” said Jo sharply.

  “Well it does kind of look that way,” said Nikki.

  “Goodness knows what else she’s been up to,” said Sally.

  “I’m sure there’s an explanation for this,” Jo said.

  “Let’s ask her — oh wait, she’s not here,” Sally said sarcastically. “How much longer are you going to defend her for?”

  “Until we get the full story!” Jo yelled. “We can’t turn on each other, we have to give everyone a chance to speak. You spoke — and now we have to listen to Bella. We need to find her and bring her back.” Jo stared around the room. “Anyone know where she goes to when she disappears?”

  The girls looked at each other uneasily. No one looked at Tristan, sitting at the kitchen table staring intently into his coffee.

  “I mean, I’ve seen her at the lake a few times,” said Anita.

  “And once or twice in the orchard.”

  “The garden, she’s always there.”

  “The bath,” said Nikki.

  “She’s not in the bath.”

  “I know that, but she probably didn’t ride out to the garden either,” Nikki snapped back.

  “Hey, come on!” Jo said, exasperated. “Let’s saddle up and go looking before sundown.”

  The girl’s started moving towards the door, and Tristan followed. “Where are you going?” Jo said.

  “We’re going to look for Bella, aren’t we?”

  “I think you’d be better staying here,” Jo said.

  “I think I might know-”

  “I’ve seen you riding Tristan, you’ll slow us down.”

  Tristan tried not to take it personally. Everyone was upset. “All the same, I’ll maybe take a walk around the perimeter. I’d like to help if I can.”

  Jo sighed and shook her head, storming off. By the time Tristan reached the barn, it was empty apart from the neighing of horses.

  The horse dipped his head forward and gently nuzzled his face.

  “Ok, ok,” he said, “I hear you. I can do this.” He saddled the horse as Anita had shown him, and using an upturned bucket, clambered onto the giant beast’s back on the first try. “Shall we?” he asked the horse. Chestnut neighed in response.

  Riding out of the barn, Tristan thought about what Bella had said at the barn dance. “Willow’s Peak,” he said to Chestnut. “Can you take me there?” The horse neighed loudly and trotted in a circle. “Look at me,” Tristan sighed, “asking a horse for directions.”

  Suddenly, though, the horse began cantering forward. Tristan was about to pull back the reins — and then he remembered he had no idea where he was going anyway. Might as well let Chestnut take him where he wanted.

  They rode through the fields for a while, eventually reaching the perimeter of the ranch. Beyond were mossy green trees, granite mountains and silver pools.

  “Onwards and upwards?” Tristan asked the horse. Chestnut snorted and trotted on down a dirt path, winding through the pines.

  They had been riding for half an hour in the forest, gradually uphill, when they came upon a cabin. Its windows were smashed, the door dented, the roof falling in and vines wrapping themselves around the frail wooden frame. But what caught Tristan’s eye was the address on the door. In barely legible letters, he could just make out the broken words: “Willow’s Rise”.

  “We must be on the right track!” Tristan said excitedly. “Well done! Clever boy!” He patted the horse’s strong neck. Chestnut whinnied and stomped his feet in agreement: he was a clever boy.

  The two continued up the path. It narrowed, the trees became darker and denser and the track twisted this way and that, becoming steeper. “Why would she come all the way out here?” Tristan wondered aloud to the empty forest. Bird call grew fainter as they walked on. Soon the only sound was Chestnut’s hooves scraping against rock and dirt, and the breeze in the trees.

  The trees closed in and brushed Tristan as they walked through. He ducked low to Chestnut’s back as the horse stepped forward into the unknown.

  Suddenly, they stepped into the open. There was a clearing. Above them, Tristan could see the clear azure skies. Chestnut neighed, turning in circles.

  Tristan looked around and saw why. The trees had closed behind them. Tristan could no longer see the path they had taken.

  “Well let’s hope we find Bella,” he muttered to the horse, who whinnied in agreement.

  Tristan jumped off the horse and looked around. He could see little through the glossy pines, except more trees. Spinning around, his hat suddenly flew off in a gust of wind. It danced across the dust and dirt and skirted around the trees. Tristan chased it, tripping over his feet and landing face first in the dirt.

  He sat up slowly, rubbing his nose. He could see his hat through the trees, lying still against a rock about twenty feet from where he was. Dusting himself down, he walked slowly towards it, leaving Chestnut standing in the clearing.

  As he got closer to the hat, he saw that the rock was not just a rock. The trees thinned as he approached, revealing a stone wall. The silver rocks were rippled with violet in a kind of shimmering quartz, the glittering streaks running in vertical trickles to the ground. They looked like the draping, whimsical strands of a weeping willow.

  Tristan began to walk around the rock, pushing the branches of trees aside and stepping over low-lying bushes. He heard a soft neigh — it wasn’t Chestnut.

  Suddenly, Artemis came into view, her silver back gleaming in the sun of the open sky. The trees had disappeared — in their place on the horizon was a sheer drop. A pool of indigo water had gathered at the edge of the cliff and trickled over the edge. The rock beside him hollowed into a dark cave, filled with a deep purple lake. And sitting at the edge of the pool was Bella.

  Her riding boots were at her side, and her toes and feet were submerged deep in the water. She kicked her legs back and forth gently, letting the water ripple and bubble as she broke the glassy surface.

  Tristan ducked into the cave. “Hey,” he said, quietly.

  “Oh!” she said, looking up in surprise. She started to scramble to her feet, her eyes darting towards Artemis as if to say, “Why didn’t you tell me we had company?”

  “It’s ok, it’s ok,” Tristan said, putting his hands up. “I’m not here to hunt you down.”

  Bella paused, eyeing him carefully. “I told Jo I didn’t want anyone to follow me.”

  “Yeah, Jo passed on that message. But they wanted to find you.”

  She froze, her eyes widening. “You didn’t bring them here, did you?”

  Tristan shook his head. He was standing opposite her across the pool, the little sunlight filtering through the cave entrance cast a lavender glow on the waves. “No. I came alone. We all split up. But I remembered you talking about this place. So this is Willow’s Peak?”

  Bella shrugged, sitting back down. Tristan took this as an encouraging sign and began to walk slowly around the pool, admiring the interior of the cave. The ragged inside revealed more vivid amethyst.

  “I’m surprised you found this place,” Bella said.

  “It was mostly Chestnut. But when we passed the cabin, I knew we were on the right track.” Tristan sat down beside her. He started to shrug his shoes off. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”

  Bella sighed, staring at the water. Her gray eyes were lost in thought. But Tristan waited. He knew there was a time to talk, and a time to listen.

  “My grandfather was born in that cabin,” she said suddenly. Tristan said nothing. He placed his shoes by his side and dipped his toes in the refreshingly cool water. “His parents were born there, and his parent’s parents were, too. My ancestors — my great-great somethings — were heading west during the Gold Rush, and they never quite made it. My grandfather used to tell me about how Great Uncle Jeffrey had been chasing the American dream to California: ‘But then he found it right here, in the Midwest,’ he’d finish. And look at this place. Isn’t it a dream?” Sh
e sighed, kicking her legs in the water.

  “My mother was the first person in our family to not be born in that cabin,” she continued. “She was born on the ranch, instead.”

  Bella looked at Tristan, her dark gray eyes willing him to understand.

  “You mean — wait, the ranch is yours?” Tristan asked, confused.

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. She began to talk slowly, revealing her tale. Tristan listened in silence. It didn’t matter particularly that it was him who sat there. Bella had kept her secret for so long and isolated herself from the people around her that it was a relief to share this burden. Sitting side by side she revealed herself in a way she never had before. Tristan trained his eyes on the violet pool, careful to control the emotions on his face.

  When she was finished, she looked at him, her lip trembling. The hardness in her eyes was gone, granite turned to downy feather. He took her hand. She froze, her fight or flight instinct not entirely at ease, but his warmth relaxed her.

  “I think the others will understand, if you tell them,” Tristan said softly.

  “I don’t know,” she said, closing her eyes and willing back the tears. “It was maybe okay before. But Connor is dead. And Sally is right. I’m a horrible friend.”

  “You didn’t mean to do those things.”

  “No, I did. I meant to do everything I did. I just didn’t understand the consequences.”

  She hung her head, and Tristan put his strong arm around her shoulder. “Everyone makes mistakes. That’s how we learn. That’s how we get better. Don’t let your mistakes define you, but how you deal with them.”

  Bella smiled under her breath. “I think my grandfather said something like that once.” She looked up at him, meeting his piercing blue eyes. They stared at each other for a moment in the comfortable silence of the lilac cave. “Thank you,” she said softly.

  His arm was still around her shoulders. She could feel the warmth of him beating through the strong, toned muscles, smell the heady musk of his sun-browned body. He leaned in closer, and she kissed him.

  His lips were soft like summer rain; her kisses were sweeter than honey. The only sound was the trickling of the damson stream. The filtered sunlight was warm on their bare arms. But both of them pulled away at the same time.

  “Anita,” they both muttered under their breath. They turned to each other and smiled.

  “Most guys wouldn’t have pulled away,” Bella said as he moved his arm off her shoulder, platonically patting her leg.

  “I’m not like most guys,” he said. “Most girls wouldn’t be happy that I said another girl’s name.”

  “I’m not like most girls,” she grinned.

  “You should come back to the ranch.”

  “I don’t know how to face them.”

  “You’ll find a way,” he said, standing. “They’re your friends. They’re all you have, right now. And you owe them the truth.”

  Bella kicked the water, sending spray flying across the pool, the splash echoing around the cave. “Fine.” She stood up, shaking dry her feet and carrying her boots around the pool to the entrance of the cave. Tristan was watching the sun, moving from the center of the sky to the horizon. It flecked the streaming silver river with gold as it tumbled over the violet cliff’s edge. Artemis eyed the two of them warily.

  “It’s ok, Artemis,” Bella said, pulling her boots on. “He’s a friend.” Artemis snorted and stomped, but also nuzzled Tristan’s cheek. “Where’s Chestnut?”

  “Back… um… over there,” Tristan gestured vaguely. “We stopped in a clearing.”

  Bella smiled. “I’ll show you.”

  She led the way on Artemis, the horses silver rump leading a glimmering light weaving through the forest for Tristan and Chestnut to follow. They rode in silence into the misty magenta dusk.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  -

  Jo heard the footsteps on the porch first. She leaped out of her chair and ran to the door.

  “You came back,” she said, surprising Bella with a hug. Bella’s eyes widened, and she caught Tristan raising his dark brow over Jo’s shoulder as if to say “Told you so.”

  “Yeah, of course,” Bella muttered. “I just needed some space.”

  She walked into the kitchen. Anita, Nikki, and Sally sat around the kitchen table, a pot of coffee in the middle. They stared at her silently. They were not as pleased to see her.

  Jo started pulling up chairs. “I think we should all sit down and talk about this.” Everyone sat down. There was an awkward silence; everyone stared at Bella.

  “Come on then,” Sally said finally. “Explain. What the hell is going on?”

  “I--” Bella began, looking helplessly at Tristan. “I don’t know where to start.”

  “Just tell them what you told me,” Tristan said gently.

  “Right. Ok.” Bella took a deep breath. “Firstly, this isn’t about money. It’s never been about money. Money is just… a means to an end. It’s about the ranch.”

  Tristan nodded encouragingly while the others looked on in confusion.

  “My grandfather built this ranch from the ground up. He built the farmhouse with his bare hands, from just timber and love. My mother spent her childhood in the stables, with the horses. She was the one who taught me to ride, gave me my passion for horses. My parents lived here. This is where my family is from.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Anita. “What happened?”

  “Weattie happened!” Bella exclaimed. “Times were hard, and my grandfather turned to the wrong person. He turned to Weattie, borrowed money, but the interest rates were so high he could never repay it. He fell more and more into debt — until Weattie offered him a way out.”

  “To sell the ranch,” said Nikki, with sudden understanding.

  “Exactly.” Bella glared at the coffee pot, her jaw set hard. “He bought it for pennies. It barely covered what my grandfather spent. I never lived on the ranch — I was born in the town. But my grandfather would walk me through the woods, he’d take me to the mountains and tell me all about it. You could tell it was his proudest achievement and his biggest disappointment.”

  “I’m sorry,” Jo murmured.

  “I swear he died of a broken heart, seeing this place go to ruin under Weattie. About six years ago, I heard a rumor that Weattie was going to raze the place. Tear it down. I couldn’t let him do that. All my life I’d heard about this place, and I’d always dreamed I’d rescue it. I wanted to make my grandfather proud. I love this land: the forests, the garden my grandmother planted, the lake where my parents met. Everything about me is embedded in this place. I couldn’t let Weattie erase who I am. So I came to him with a business plan. And that’s how I got back on the ranch.”

  “So you’ve been here, trying to stop Weattie tearing it down?” Sally said in confusion.

  “Kind of. I don’t want to just live here, though. This is my home. I want to own it.”

  “But the ranch is going bankrupt, isn’t it?” Nikki asked.

  Bella wriggled uncomfortably. “Not exactly.”

  They all stared at her. “What do you mean?”

  “It’s true when I started, the ranch was not a financially viable business. But the plan I gave Weattie was solid, and we started turning a small profit in the first year. That was when we hired you two to help out,” Bella said, gesturing to Anita and Nikki. “The second year, the profit was bigger still, and I realized then… oh God, I can’t believe I’m telling you this. I realized that if I kept making the farm profitable for Weattie, all that would happen is he’d make money, and the value of the farm would go up. I’d never save up enough to buy it. So I started increasing our expenditure.” She paused, but no one interrupted. They waited for her to continue. “At first I really did actually spend the money on things. We invested in proper equipment, I built the honey hives, we hired Sally and Jo, got in extra farm hands for the summer season, refurbished the houses, got all the mechanics tightened up.
But investing generated more profit. The riding school was doing great. So… I started fudging the numbers. I started skimming money, putting it into a rainy day fund. A rainy day fund Weattie couldn’t find. I’d bump up the spending figures on the horse feed, the cost of maintenance, even wages.”

  “What?” Jo asked, incredulously.

  “I know, I know,” Bella said, putting her head in her hands. “But I wasn’t taking money from any of you! It was from Weattie. I didn’t want him to think the ranch was worth keeping. I wanted to lower its value so he’d want to sell.”

  “And then buy back the ranch using his money?” Nikki asked.

  “It’s kind of genius, when you think about it,” Tristan interjected.

  Bella sighed. “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”

  “Is that why you burnt down the guest house?” Sally said, her face hard.

  “What?” Bella asked aghast. “No! I would never do that, I told you! I was as devastated as any of you. It was my parents’ first home. Their honeymoon suite. I watched it crumble.”

  “So who burnt down the guest house?”

  Bella raised an eyebrow. “Who do you think? It was Weattie.”

  “I know you hate the guy Bella, but come on.” said Sally.

  “No, really. He burnt the barn for insurance money. The last quarter profits I handed to him were low. Abysmal, really. I’ve been so close for so long, and I decided it was time. I cut a huge chunk of the profits, I cut a load of our spending for that last push--”

  “And that’s why you cut Connor?” Sally interjected. “You thought you could save a dime or two by getting rid of a wage?”

  Bella looked close to tears. “I’m so sorry Sally. It wasn’t like that. I… I’d been in town that morning, and I’d handed the quarterly report to Weattie. I’d started laying the groundwork for a sale, suggesting he might want to consider his options, maybe find a buyer. The numbers he was throwing out, I knew I was just short… I was driving back, I saw Connor by the side of the road. I wasn’t thinking about me then, I was thinking about you. I knew what he’d done. I hated that he was going to hurt you, or lie to you. I was going to tell you — that was my first reaction. And then he said it: I’ll do anything.’ I knew that I shouldn’t do it — I knew it then, I know it now, I wish I’d stuck to my guns and said, ‘No, friends first.’ But I saw this opportunity: I saw a way to get my ranch back. If he didn’t collect his wages at the end of the month… I’d have the money I needed.”