River Lane

Chapter 4

                                                                                     Chapter Four

            As he started running towards me, I noticed how much muscle he had built up since I’d seen him last. His coat was gold and shiny, and really stood out over his ebony legs, mane and tail. He was beautiful. As he stopped in front of me he whinnied and began to nod his head up and down. I gave him a kiss on the nose and started to rub his neck, my anger temporarily gone. Slipping a halter over his head, he followed me out the gate towards the barn.

            Once I had him saddled and ready to go– my food safely in the saddle bags– I started looking around deciding where I wanted to ride. I was hoping to head in the opposite direction of the pain in the butt that had embarrassed me so bad earlier.  Unfortunately I had no idea which direction he headed.

            Deciding I would just head towards my favorite spot-- the waterfall-- I swung up into the saddle. Nudging Tequila with my heels, I headed off. Hoping to clear my head and avoid another chance encounter.

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            The trail cut steep to the left and around the knobby pinion pine tree and out of sight. The hundred-foot ledge on Garret’s right dropped almost parallel to the barn, only about four hundred yards from the property line. Nobody will find me here, not for a while at least. He thought to himself looking down off the ledge.                                                                                                       

            After riding onto the ridge he gave the filly a few minutes to rest while he looked over the ranch. He had plenty of time to get over his anger–not that it took him long. He actually thought it rather funny now. The real thing bothering him was why he couldn’t get her off of his mind.

            A week or so before, Jared had pulled him aside and told him that his niece was going to come and live with him. At first he didn’t care. Then curiosity began to get the better of him, and one morning he worked up the courage to ask Claire about her. She didn’t think much of it at the time, and went on to tell him as much about her as she could. By the time she was done, he felt a hard knot of longing to meet her, almost as if he had known her forever and couldn’t wait to see her again.

            He had tried not to think about meeting her. He thought there was no doubt she would be just like every other girl around this place that he had ever met. Snotty, spoiled, wanna be country girls, who usually put insult to the name. And then came the night she arrived.

           

            He had heard the car pulling up the long road leading to the ranch, and watched her sneak around into the back yard, slowly glanced around taking in everything around her, and pull her slender hand along the log fence rail as she walked to the edge of the orchard. Reaching out to touch the leaves, and looking at everything like she was trying to soak it into her memory, like she would never see it again. Then hearing the kids around the front, she hurried around the edge of the house where he lost sight of her. He tried not to think about her the rest of the afternoon, but later that night as he was playing cards with Jack and Matthew he noticed her sitting in her bedroom window. She was the only thing he could think about that whole night.

            The next morning for him had only gotten worse. Hoping to be cheery and make a good impression, he took extra long hanging out in the kitchen hoping to see her. When he heard footsteps come running down the stairs he jerked his head up in the direction of the sound. As she came into view he wanted to kick himself for his bad thoughts about her, and for thinking that maybe he had a chance. She was out of his league. She was the most beautiful creature that he had ever beheld. She looked straight at him and shock mixed with embarrassment flushed her face. It was only after she hurried out the door so quick, that he realized his anger at himself was showing plainly on his face, and she must have taken it as something wrong with her. He could hit himself for being so stupid. He wanted to forget her and pretend he didn’t care, but he couldn’t. 

           

            He shook his trying head to get these thoughts from his mind, bringing him back to the present. He glanced towards the barn and saw a flash of gold walking across the yard. Then he recognized the buckskin colt he had let out earlier that morning. Noticing it was following Nayvee, he realized his mistake. The colt was one of the best looking horses he had ever seen, but he had never seen anyone ride it. He had been clueless as to why it was in the barn and had let it back out into the field. Now he knew it was her horse, and it had been waiting there for her. He was screwing everything up today.

            He watched her as she saddled the colt then moved to the back of the saddle and fiddle around as if tying on a set of saddle bags. She swung onto the horse and started to look around for something. She then turned the horse and headed off into the tree’s.  Not knowing why, he touched his filly on the shoulder with his spurs, and began heading in the same direction as her. He took the round about way, as to not look suspicious and hoped for a better encounter than their previous few. He had no idea what he was truly in for.

                                                                                                

            The crash of water on rock was deafening as Garret slowed the filly and crept around the quaky trees, to the trail at the top of the falls. Peeking around a scrub oak, he tried to sneak a look at the source of his infatuation. To his dismay, the only thing he could detect was an old worn trail, left from some previous rides. He exhaled a slow long shaky breath, to release his frustration. As he started to turn away, a flicker of movement grabbed his attention. He jerked around, hoping for a turn in his black luck. In his haste, he lost all balance and with a jump from the horse, fell head long into the Scrub Oak.

            “Whoa, Tequila, easy boy.” The voice was gentle, but a hint of firmness and command was still present. The voice was that of an angel. A very familiar one. He slowly lifted his head and beheld the jewel of his eye, in the most unlikely and amazing sight he ever thought he’d see.  There she was, with a red, gray, and black Navajo saddle blanket around her, and no clothes on.