House of the Blue Sea

by Teresa van Bryce

  She caught up to him at the end of the beach, where the headland rose before them. The young mare was blowing hard through her flaring nostrils, excited by the environment and the run. Alejandro had eased her toward the water as she galloped, and by the end of the beach she was throwing up water with each stride.

  “I told you this was a special one.” He was beaming.

  “You were right about the water. After a few strides it seemed she forgot it was there.”

  “And, after a few more, she was enjoying it.” He leaned to the side and his eyes went to the mare’s face. “Weren’t you, mi amor?"

  “So I take it this one is not for sale?”

  “Ay, Dios mío! Not even to you, amiga.” Alejandro looked west. “We had best be making our way home. Let’s see how my girl likes the waves now at a walk.”

  Alejandro rode the mare in and out of the surf as they walked the length of the beach. She reacted only once, jumping sideways when a wave touched her belly. He just chuckled and urged her forward, stroking her neck to reassure her. He slowed the horse and let Sandra come up beside him. “So, you were about to tell me more about your friend Mark, before I so rudely galloped off.”

  “I don’t think I was.”

  He turned sideways in his saddle to face her. “So there is nothing to tell of the famous and handsome man who followed you here from San Leandro? I see. It is true this happens often, movie stars showing up without announcement. Perhaps it is the lure of the Rancho Azteca.” He made a sweeping gesture with his right arm in the direction of the ranch as he faced forward again.

  Sandra continued to look at the beach between Tormenta’s ears, saying nothing.

  “You do not have to talk to me about him. I am only a curious old romantic,” Alejandro said, “and I recognize la chispa when I see it.”

  “La chispa?”

  “The spark, the energy, the life that is between two people who share a connection. It is not so different from the energy between horse and human, and what I use to pair my students with their mounts. It does not come from attraction on the side of one or the other, only when it is mutual. Just because I think this mare is the most beautiful horse I have raised does not mean she will work with me. But, this time I am fortunate.” His hand trailed along the crest of Mantequilla’s neck, his fingers lifting the mane from its resting place like a curtain being drawn aside.

  “And you sense this energy, between Mark and me?”

  His gaze fixed on her and he was no longer smiling. “From the moment he arrived; even though I also sensed your anger with him.” His smile returned. “I have not seen you so chilly toward anyone before. I knew he must be special. It is why I invited him to stay.”

  “So that’s what gave me away was it, my giving him the cold shoulder?”

  “Ah, so you admit it then!”

  “No, I don’t. I admit I feel some attraction to him, but he frustrates me, scares me actually. I often feel very uncomfortable around him.”

  Alejandro laughed. “It sounds like love, then.”

  “Love? What kind of love makes you want to run away from someone. He’s the reason I came here in the first place.”

  “I assumed so.”

  “You did? When I came?”

  “Sí. I did not know what you were running from, but I knew there was something. And when I saw his car roll into the yard ...”

  Sandra let out a long sigh and looked to the sea, even darker now against the pink sky. “I didn’t know what to do. I felt like he wouldn’t let me be and I couldn’t seem to say no.”

  “Or did not want to?”

  “No, I did want to ... I think I wanted to.”

  “Ah, and there is the question. Were you running from Mark or from something else, perhaps?”

  “But there was nothing else, just Mar Azul, my painting, my friends there ...”

  “And yourself?”

  Was that it? Was she running from her own feelings? She hadn’t felt inclined to run since her first unplanned visit here to Baja four years ago. She thought she’d put that behind her.

  “Do you always feel uncomfortable in his presence? Because, now and then, I saw a light from you that I have not seen before. A little flash.”

  “Sometimes I enjoy being with him. He makes me laugh. He can be quite kind. And last night after dinner he seemed more down-to-earth than he has before, warmer somehow, and deeper.”

  “He is a troubled man, that I sense, but never would I think him shallow, and certainly not cold.”

  “So you think he’s a good person?”

  Alejandro cocked his head, a serious expression on his face. “I would never want to influence anyone’s decision in matters of the heart for they are such personal affairs; but, yes, I think your Mark is one of the special ones.” He glanced down at Mantequilla and then back to Sandra. “Of course, I am just an old horseman. What do I know of love?”

  ***

  Sandra traced the cactus pattern with her thumb, the mug warm in her hands. She could hear the horses moving about in the darkness, scouring the earth for the final remnants of the night feeding. It felt good to sit in the quiet, alone. She drank in the scents of Azteca—the horses, the desert and the sea drifting in from Cortez. Tomorrow she’d be back at Mar Azul, her Baja home, and, although she was happy to return to her painting and the beach, she felt some anxiety, about Mark of course. She thought back to the night before, when she sat in this same chair, but with a glass of wine in her hand and Mark sitting across from her. He’d looked so inviting in the lamplight, his tanned face and neck dark above his white shirt, his eyes like pools of ink. She wondered if he was at Pablo’s tonight. She could picture him sitting at the bar, laughing with Paul, talking with Arturo. Now why was she thinking of him when she finally had some time to herself?

  “You look very deep in your thoughts,” Alejandro said from behind the screen door.

  Sandra could barely make out his shape in the low light. He pushed open the door and came to stand next to the table. “You are still out here,” he said.

  “Just finishing my tea, enjoying the evening. I thought you’d gone to bed.”

  “I am missing my Martina tonight so I am too restless for sleep just yet. May I interrupt your enjoyment of the evening?” Alejandro asked, nodding toward the closest chair.

  “Of course, join me. I believe this is your deck.”

  Alejandro pulled out the chair and sat down. He sighed as he leaned back. “So, where were your thoughts taking you this night? Any place an old romantic might find interesting?”

  Sandra lifted her eyes from her mug and furrowed her brow. “So now you can read minds?”

  “I have always been good at reading the minds of horses so I thought I might try humans. They are such interesting creatures; much more complicated and less predictable than horses.”

  “I know. I think I prefer horses.”

  Alejandro laughed, a rumble that rolled up from his abdomen like distant thunder. “Ah, but you cannot share a wonderful meal, or a fine glass of wine with your horse ...” his voice became playful, “or your bed.”

  “Alejandro!”

  “What? You are too pure for such things, amiga?”

  “No, it’s just not something I want to discuss with you.”

  He laughed again. “I am only trying to lighten what seems to be a burdensome subject for you.” He pushed his chair onto its back legs and placed his hands behind his head.

  His eyes continued to meet hers, not challenging, not questioning, only waiting. The sound of a horse blowing through its nostrils echoed in the darkness behind her. “What did you mean at the beach, when you said that Mark was one of the special ones? How do you mean, special?”

  Alejandro sat quietly for a time before speaking. “When I first met Caliente, he had been labelled a dangerous animal. He had changed hands many times, for he was incredibly striking, and each new owner was going to make him into a magnificent horse for the show ring and then the breed
ing pen. By the time I first saw him he was eight, and offered to me for one of my expo demonstrations. It is possible the person who offered him was trying to set me up for failure, but it didn’t matter, when I looked into his eyes I saw the years of confusion and pain deep within them. The others had seen his handsome exterior. I saw what was inside, even buried as it was beneath so much hurt. I knew in an instant that he had what I would call that special something. Perhaps it is a gift, perhaps a willingness to look, but I see it in people also, even when it tries to hide itself. I see it in you, which is why I invited you to come and spend some time with me last year, and why you’re here now.”

  “And you see this in Mark?”

  “Sí. It is perhaps what has made him successful as an actor, that quality within that people are drawn to without knowing what it is. He is handsome, yes, but if you look beyond that, there is more, much more I think.”

  “So how did you fix Caliente?”

  Alejandro snorted. “By not fixing him at all. I simply gave attention to all that was good and ignored all that was bad. Very soon, only the good remained.”

  “It’s hard to imagine him being dangerous.”

  “That is because he was never dangerous, only afraid.”

  “Is that what you think about Mark, that he’s afraid?”

  “Terrified.”

  “But of what? What does someone like him have to be afraid of?”

  “And what did big, powerful Caliente have to be afraid of? Everything that threatened him, or seemed to threaten him, even me at first.”

  Sandra traced the ceramic cactus again, exploring its engraved lines. She looked up at Alejandro and tried to smile. “So what do I do now?”

  “It is simple, and yet so very difficult. You ignore what is in here.” He tapped his head. “And listen to what is here,” he said, placing his hand across the left side of his chest. “Your heart will not lead you wrong.” He reached across the table and laid his hand on her wrist. “I see the hurt deep in your eyes also. It has eased since you first came to Azteca, but still it is there. Do not let it determine your path in this life.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Mark took the steps down to the beach level and followed the lighted path to Pablo’s entrance. Its warm light poured out onto the sand and the sounds of music and conversation blended with the ever-present rumble of the sea. He smoothed the front of his shirt and pulled one hand through his hair before entering. The place was full, mostly with couples seated at tables of two, the flickering candle flames lighting their faces. He looked to the bar and there she was, sitting sideways on a stool, her back to him, her fair hair loose and covering her neck with waves and ringlets. She was talking to Arturo and he was laughing as he mixed a trio of drinks.

  Mark had expected to find her here the previous night following her return from the ranch, so he’d arrived early and stayed until almost closing. Just before he left, Paul finally saw fit to announce that, by the way, Sandra had ordered room service around seven o’clock, in case he was interested. Bastard. He’d thought about knocking on her door, inviting her down for a drink, but didn’t want to risk another icy reception. She did like her privacy and he felt he was making some progress, even though he hadn’t completely divulged his reasons for following her to Alejandro’s. He’d never been very good at expressing himself, unless the lines were printed on the page in front of him. When they had to come from his own head and heart they just weren’t there, and borrowing from one of his movies would be far too tacky. That, and the risk that she’d seen the film and would recognize the dialogue.

  As Mark moved toward the bar, he considered how best to greet her. Had he not recently become acquainted with the wretchedness of rejection, he might walk right up, wrap his arms around her from behind and plant a kiss on the tanned shoulder left exposed by her pale green dress.

  “Señor Mark!” Arturo had spotted him. Sandra turned on her stool and smiled as he approached.

  He leaned in and kissed her cheek. Not quite as demonstrative as his first idea but it would do. “I thought I might find you here,” he said.

  “The bar right below my hotel room is a pretty safe bet.”

  “True. So much for being the next Sherlock Holmes.” He took the stool beside her. “May I join you?”

  “It seems you already have.”

  He smiled at her without saying any more.

  “A drink?” Arturo was still standing opposite them.

  “Yes, please. I will have a beer—whatever is coldest.” He continued to look at Sandra.

  “But, they are all cold ...”

  Mark looked to Arturo. “Of course they are. Bring me a Sol, please.” Maybe the beer would help settle his nerves. “So, you have come back to us. How was your final day with Alejandro and his fine horses?”

  “It was perfect, once my stalker cleared out.” Her expression was serious.

  Mark felt his face flush.

  “I’m teasing.” Sandra leaned toward him and placed a hand on his thigh, immediately pulling it back and reddening a little. “And did you get your new script?”

  “No, not yet. Wednesday, I’m told. I’ll read you an excerpt over dinner.”

  “A sneak preview. I feel special.”

  “So you’re still coming to dinner then?”

  “I am, and looking forward to it.” Her eyes reflected the tiny lights strung behind the bar.

  He felt his face flush again. “Well, good then. So am I.” He took another drink. Really Jeffery, try not to sound like a nervous school boy.

  Paul came through the swinging door from the kitchen, wiping his hands on the apron tied around his waist. “Ah, my two favourite customers!”

  “I’ve heard you say that to every table in this room,” Sandra said.

  “Perhaps yes, but not with such feeling as I did just now.” He put his hand to the left side of his chest and bowed.

  “Oh please, Hutchings.” Mark snorted. “I feel as though I’m back in drama school.”

  “Still in a fine mood, are we?” Paul leaned to Sandra as if in confidence. “You should have seen him last night, in here watching the door like a dog waiting for his master to come home, getting more and more bearish as the hours went by.” He flashed a smile at Mark.

  “Mark, a bear? I can’t imagine. He seems quite pleasant this evening,” Sandra said.

  “Ah, then perhaps what he was waiting on has finally arrived?” He raised his eyebrows.

  “Don’t you have work to do?” Mark asked. “The place does look rather busy tonight. I’m sure some of these other guests might enjoy a visit from their wonderfully entertaining host.”

  “I’ll get to them. For the moment I think there’s more fun to be had here.” His eyes were bright as he leaned on the bar, settling in. “So, Sandra, I hear you had uninvited company while you were away on your little ranch sojourn? Did he manage to embarrass himself from the back of a horse? He is so very good at it.” Paul grinned at Mark.

  “It was actually me who fell off my horse,” Sandra responded. “Mark rode quite well, even without his stunt double.”

  Mark gave a nod of his head. “Why thank you, my lady.”

  “I’m just thinking back to when he was working on Jane Eyre and the stories he told about having to work with the monstrous black horse that frightened the daylights out of him.” Paul was snickering.

  “Mesrour,” Sandra said.

  “Excuse me?” Paul asked.

  “Mesrour, the name of Rochester’s horse in Jane Eyre. It was a fabulous animal they used in the series, but I can see how he might have been intimidating. They needed one with some size and fire to portray the horse according to Bronte’s description.”

  There she was, going to his defense again. He wanted to kiss her. He watched her as she spoke, describing the horse during Rochester’s opening scene where it rears and he falls off. She was quite lovely. He couldn’t imagine how he’d ever thought her average-looking. Her smile put creases at
the corners of her mouth and her eyes that somehow made her whole face lift and brighten. The creases were a mark of age but on her they only seemed echoes of the many smiles that had come before this one.

  “Isn’t that true, Jeffery?” Paul was speaking to him.

  “Sorry. What?”

  “That you turned down a part because it required a lot of ... equestrian activity.”

  Mark was tiring of Paul’s efforts to embarrass him. “That is true, but I also turned it down because you were trying for the same part and I felt my declining would be best for our friendship.”

  Paul’s smile faded.

  “Is that true? You did that?” Sandra asked.

  Mark continued to look at his friend. “I did, fool that I was in those days.” His bottle of Sol landed on the bar with a clunk, its fizzy contents climbing up the neck.

  A minute of silence felt stretched into five. “Well ... I’m going to take a walk on the beach. Goodnight, gentlemen.” Sandra lifted her glass toward them and swallowed the last of her margarita. She slid off her stool and left the restaurant.

  “Nicely done, old friend.” Mark said as he watched Sandra disappear into the night outside Pablo’s. “What the hell was that about?”

  “Nothing. Just making conversation. Helping her get to know you.”

  “By embarrassing me?”

  “If need be,” Paul said.

  “And what is it you think I’m up to with this woman?”

  “I don’t think you’re up to anything, only that you’re good at hurting people, especially women, whether you intend to or not.”

  “So that’s what you think of me, that I’m some insensitive lout who goes around stepping on the hearts of others.”

  “Yes, but not because you are ill-intentioned—you’re just used to getting everything you want. I’m not sure you can appreciate something, or someone, of genuine value anymore.”

  “Well, I know I’ve certainly come to appreciate the value of Sandra. I confess, I didn’t at first, she was simply a nice diversion, but that’s changed.” He looked down the neck of his beer bottle and sighed.