Chapter Eleven
Seeing Tristan’s shocked face the next morning at breakfast was well worth waking up at the ungodly hour. Heather sat at the table nibbling on a bagel, dressed in her own jeans and t-shirt.
“What are you doing up so early?” he asked in a gruff voice.
“I want to learn to ride.”
“Ride?” He walked over to the coffeepot and poured himself a cup, blowing to cool it before taking a sip.
“A horse. Not you.”
He choked a bit on the coffee. Mabel snickered, and he shot her a warning look. “I don’t really have time today,” he said dismissively.
“I do,” Duke said as he walked into the kitchen. “Mornin’, Mabel. Heather.”
“Awesome!” Heather smiled at him.
Tristan narrowed his eyes, looking at them both, a frown indenting the space between his eyes. But he didn’t say anything.
After breakfast, Heather followed Duke to the stable and watched closely as he selected a horse.
“An older mare that won’t mind an amateur,” he said as he put on the harness. Duke walked them into the area where she had seen Tristan breaking the horse the other day.
“First,” he said, turning to face her, “let’s go over the features of a saddle. The pommel, the horn, the gullet.” Duke pointed to each piece of the saddle as he named it.
“This is the back of the saddle, or the cantle, and you can use it to help swing yourself up. The rest of the saddle you don’t need to know right now. To mount, use your left hand to hold the reins and mane. No, short hold the reins. Don’t let them droop, keep them secure.”
He walked behind her and moved her hands in the right positions.
“Now go ahead and pull yourself up.”
Heather took a deep breath, suddenly overwhelmed as she faced the horse. The mare had looked small and docile as she came out of the stall, but now all Heather could think about was the distance between the saddle and the ground. Tentatively she put her left food in the stirrup, took a deep breath, and pulled herself up. Surprisingly, she didn’t have any difficulty as she settled into the saddle.
“I did it!” she exclaimed excitedly.
“We’ll stick with walking to make sure your rear end doesn’t kill you tomorrow.”
“Yes, it’s not like sitting on a fluffy chair, is it?”
Duke grinned at her.
“Duke!”
They both looked over to see Tristan watching them. He waved the cowboy over, so Duke led her and the mare to him.
“I need you to go check the fencing on the eastern border, make sure those wild hogs haven’t ripped it apart.”
The two men shared a look that Heather couldn’t quite identify. Then Duke eased back, shrugging. He handed the reins over to Tristan. “Sure, boss.”
“Use the truck in case you come across some wandering cows.”
Duke nodded, gave a salute to Heather, and left them.
Tristan ducked through the railing, holding the reins, but didn’t look at her. He checked to make sure the stirrups were the right length for her legs before leading the horse around the small arena. “A horse has a four-beat walk, meaning you should be able to feel each hoof strike the ground. Keep your heels down, chin up, back straight.”
“I thought you were busy.”
“Duke is handier with a hammer and nails, so I thought it best he take care of the fence.”
Heather bit her lip. Yesterday was a heavy albatross hanging between them. The mare must have sensed the unease, because she tossed her head. Tristan immediately went to soothe her, rubbing the soft spot on her forehead and crooning soft words.
Feeling a little jealous of the horse, Heather decided to play along with his not-so-subtle hint and dismiss the memory of yesterday.
“This is a lot easier than I thought it would be.”
He shot her a neutral look, relaxing slightly as he saw her bland smile. “There’s a lot more to it than this, but we’ll go easy for now. Just practice the basics awhile before getting too ambitious.”
For the next hour, they both stayed silent as he led the horse, and she learned the feel of the animal’s gait. It wasn’t unlike riding a motorcycle, actually, where she learned how to move her hips with the swerve of the machine. But just as Heather started to feel her butt going numb, Tristan called a halt to the lesson and told her to take it easy for the rest of the day.
She watched as he led the mare back to the stable. Somehow, the breach between her and Tristan felt like an ocean, and she wondered how they could close the distance.
But then, was it really wise to try?
****
The next day, Tristan waited for her with the little mare already saddled. Heather gobbled her cereal quickly and practically skipped out the door.
The morning was cool but not cold, the air crisp in her lungs. The sun had just risen, coating the green hills with a golden sheen. Tristan led them past the immediate workings of the ranch and into the pastures where she saw hundreds of tan and brown cows.
“Do they live out here on the range?”
“For the most part. We’ve got buildings up that they can go to escape the sun during the day. Once the calves are weaned from their mother, they’re put out to pasture. Lincoln adheres to strict organic codes for his cows. It’s a longer process than cows raised on grains the factory way, but grain isn’t the best diet. It makes the cows sick, which in turn makes them need antibiotics. So when the meat goes to market, it’s chock-full of drugs.”
“I’ve read about the hidden lies of organic diets. You know, how if calves are grass-fed for the first couple weeks of life and then switched over to factory living, then technically the meat can be labeled ‘grass-fed.’”
Tristan nodded. “It’s expensive to do it like we’re doing it here. We can only keep about a thousand head while other ranches can herd ten times that. But Hart Ranch has built a solid reputation for quality meats, and we’ve actually seen our profits increase over the past couple of years.”
For the next hour they talked as he led her horse in a ride that stuck close to the house but allowed her the feel of the land. She could see the house in the distance, and it looked like a regal palace in the center of a small universe. She saw men and cows and horses out in the pastures. Even the smell of the air seemed new and unique.
For the next few days, despite how busy he always seemed, Tristan took her out for a daily ride around the ranch. He pointed things out, told her so many facts that she actually started to find the ranch’s operations interesting. Her muscles even loosened up until it didn’t hurt to plant her rear end into the hard, unyielding saddle.
She started sleeping through the night, something she hadn’t done in a long time. Heather realized one morning as she rode back in after the morning ride that she felt peaceful. Without millions of people, blaring city noises, and mounds of traffic, Heather felt the constant tension she lived with slowly draining out of her.
After each ride, after removing the saddle and wiping down her horse, Heather lingered for a time in the stable. It was fast becoming a place she liked hanging around, though she wasn’t quite sure why. Maybe because the horses were neutral parties, accepting without prior judgment. She still felt uneasy around Tristan, even though she felt the barriers between them slowly start to come down. She wouldn’t say things were good, or even fine, but she felt like they were starting to reach a level of mutual respect.
“Don’t even think about getting involved with her, Duke,” Tristan’s voice rang through the early morning, making her stop in midstride.
Heather had been on her way for their morning ride, but Tristan’s warning halted her on the other side of the stable door, out of sight.
“And why is that, Tristan? Jealous?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Tristan said dismissively in an angry tone. “She’s not the type of girl you get jealous over.”
“What does that mean?”
“It’s not like she’s gonna stick around here forever. All we have to do is wait until she’s bored out of her mind, and then she’ll go running back to the bright lights of the big city.”
“Harsh, dude.”
Their voices faded away. A moment later Duke walked out, not noticing her as he marched away. Heather went inside, her heart pounding furiously in her chest. The calmness she had been feeling the past couple of days had vanished. Her fists lay clenched at her sides, and it was an effort not to swing them at the handsome cowboy who looked at her over the mare he was saddling.
“Mornin’, Heather,” he mumbled.
“I’m not going riding with you,” she said with a bite in her voice.
Tristan frowned. His eyes flickered to the stable door and then back to her.
“Yes,” she answered the unspoken question. “I heard your sterling opinion of me.”
He sighed, shoulders dropping a bit. “Listen, you don’t understand—”
“No, you don’t understand. I had started to think of you as a friend, Tristan. But clearly you’re a fucking hypocrite.”
She spun around, ignoring his call, and marched her way back to the house. She felt Mabel look at her but ignored her. Today she was going to sulk.
****
Heather didn’t come down for dinner that evening.
Tristan watched the stairs and played with his food, missing the looks that Jim and Tony shot one another.
She had completely misunderstood what he had been saying to Duke. Missed the point, really.
Yes, he was jealous anytime Duke came near her.
Yes, he wanted to take her to bed and keep her there until they were both too sore to walk.
Fuck. What the hell am I going to do?