Hayburner (A Gail McCarthy Mystery) (5 page)

"You'll do," he said.

We sipped our drinks in silence for a while. For my part, I was wondering what to say. Let's go to bed, seemed a little forward, and I still wasn't sure.

What I finally said was, "I bought a horse today."

"You did?" Blue sounded surprised, whether at my purchase or the new subject, I didn't know.

"Yeah, want to see him?" I stood up; if I didn't remove my body from this close proximity to his, I was going to start pawing the man. It's too early in the evening for that, I told myself as we walked down to the barn, drinks in hand.

I pointed Blue to Danny's corral; we both watched the bay colt walk to meet us.

I said, "You told me you've done a lot of work starting colts."

"That's right." Blue was sizing Danny up.

"This guy's an unbroken three-year-old. I'm planning to start him myself and I thought you might give me a few tips."

"Nice colt," Blue said. "I'll help you with him, if you want."

"That would be great. I want to do the actual work myself; I want to be the first one on him, but I could sure use some guidance."

"No problem," Blue said. Judging by his pleased expression as he watched me distribute alfalfa hay, he liked my idea of a shared project as well as I did.

I finished feeding the animals; Blue poured us a second round while I lit the fire and chopped the vegetables.

"Dinner tonight is all out of my garden," I told him, "with the exception of the steak. I didn't butcher my cow, I want you to know. I just traded her for the colt."

Blue grinned at that and handed me a fresh drink. When our fingers touched, I almost jumped. Damn, the current between us was strong-a real physical jolt.

"So tell me," I said, as I put the potatoes in the steamer, "where did you learn how to start colts?"

Blue was quiet a minute. "Where I grew up," he said at last. "In the Central Valley. I learned from an old man named Tom Billings. He had the ranch next door to us and raised horses. I worked for him for maybe five or six years."

"Starting his colts?" I asked.

"That, and whatever else needed doing. There's always lots on a ranch. I mended fence, dug ditches-you name it. By the time I went to work for Tom he was in his eighties, so even though he was a master at it, he had me get on the colts. His body just couldn't take it anymore."

"So he was a real horse guru?"

"Yeah, he was the real thing. There's a lot of talk about it these days-horse whispering and such. A lot of people making a lot of claims, and taking other people's money. Tom was nothing like that. He didn't make claims and he didn't start colts for anyone else. He'd just been raising and training horses all his life and he knew what they were thinking."

I nodded.

"He taught me how to read a horse," Blue went on. "It's pretty simple, really. Once you understand where a colt is coming from, if you work with him sympathetically, you almost can't go wrong."

"Some are harder than others, though, right?"

"Well, they're all individuals, just like people," Blue said. "And just like people, there are certain basic principles that apply to horses in general, but within that range, there's a lot of variation. Some horses are bold, some are timid, some are cranky, some are playful ... like that. You have to meet them where they are, just like people, and not project a bunch of your own stuff onto them." He ducked his head and looked down suddenly. "Of course, I'm not telling you anything you don't already know."

I put the squash into the pot and said, "Yes, you are. I understand the part about how horses are individuals, sure, but I've never started a colt before. I'm interested in anything you can tell me."

"It's hard to put in words," Blue said. "At least, it's hard for me. Maybe if I'm just with you while you work with your colt, I can tell you what I see."

"That sounds great," I said. "I'd appreciate it a lot."

"You've set up a round pen." Blue was looking out the window and down the slope toward my small riding arena; I'd used some of my portable metal corral panels to build a fifty-foot circular pen in one corner.

"Yeah. I figured I'd need it." I carried the marinated steaks out on the porch.

"It's the easiest way, I think." Blue watched me prod at the fire and settle the grill on top.

"So, how did you get started working for Tom ... Billings?" I asked, as I laid the steaks on the grill.

Blue seemed to consider this. "Well, I lived next door. My father raised hay, like a lot of people in those parts, but we didn't have any livestock. I was real interested in horses, so I used to go hang around Tom's place.

"Tom was a funny kind of guy; he wasn't exactly friendly. He'd keep an eye on this ten-year-old kid that was always leaning on his fences, trying to pet the horses, but he didn't talk to me much-just told me to watch my fingers around the colts. But I kept corning over, and after awhile he'd give me little chores to do.

" 'Take this bucket of water to that pen over there,' he'd say. Pretty soon he let me help him feed. And then one day-I'll never forget it-he put me up on one of his broke horses and let me ride. After that I was over there every day."

"I can imagine." I flipped the steaks and took a long swallow of margarita.

"It was sort of a long, slow progression," Blue said. "First he taught me to ride, and then he offered me an after-school job as his ranch hand. I knew my way around the place by then, so I could be some help to him. Finally when I was about fifteen, he let me start getting on the colts."

"You were keen to do it?"

"I was keen to do anything with horses. I'd been watching Tom start colts for years, so I already had a clue." Blue smiled. "Tom taught me everything I know about horses. He taught me to rope, too."

"He was a big part of your life."

"Yeah," Blue nodded slowly. "A big part. In some ways I was closer to him than to my own family."

We both stared at the sputtering steaks. Inwardly, I willed Blue to keep talking. This reticent man had never mentioned his family to me before.

The silence seemed to go on and on. Finally I said, "I never felt terribly close to my parents."

Blue seemed to take the cue as meant. "No. Me either. Nor my brother."

"Was that your whole family?"

"Yeah. How about you?"

"I was an only child," I said. "My parents got killed in a car wreck when I was almost eighteen; I was pretty alone, except for an aunt and a cousin in Michigan."

Blue nodded quietly. "I had one brother," he said. "He was killed in Vietnam."

"Oh." I wasn't sure what to say.

"It was really hard on my parents," he said. "Rich was killed when I was just a kid; he was seven years older than me. I don't think my mom ever got over it."

"Are your parents still alive?"

"Yeah. They are. They sold the old farm; they live in a condo on a golf course now. My father still owns a couple of orchards."

"And what about Tom Billings?"

"He died when I was twenty. He didn't have any kids. Some cousin of his inherited the place and just sold it off."

"That must have been sad."

Blue looked down at his feet. "Well, it set me to traveling," he said at last.

I lifted the steaks off the grill and carried them into the house. Blue followed me. "Could you open this zin?" I asked him, handing him the bottle and corkscrew.

"You bet."

In a minute I had the food on the table and Blue was pouring the wine. I felt a brief inner glow of satisfaction that the meal had come together so handily-nothing raw, nothing burned.

Blue lifted his wineglass. "Here's to your garden."

"Cheers," I said.

For a while we ate and drank and Blue made appropriate comments about how good the food was; eventually I took advantage of a pause to lead the conversation back to his life.

"You've traveled a lot, haven't you?" I asked.

"Quite a bit. For ten years, anyway. Mostly in Europe and Asia. I ended up in Australia, and almost settled there for good."

"That's where you got 'Blue,' right?"

"That's right. All redheads get called Blue or Bluey there."

I smiled. "And women named Gail get called Stormy."

"You got it." Blue smiled back. "All I seem to be doing is talking about myself. How about you? What's going on in your life?"

"Well, let's see. Other than buying Danny," I hesitated, then told Blue about Friday night's barn fire, it being the most exciting event in my recent veterinary career.

"That's too bad," he said when I was done. "I know that old place. And you say two horses were killed?"

"That's right," I said sadly. "It could have been a lot worse. I know when I got out of my truck I was really dreading it. But only two horses had burns, and they weren't too bad. The rest were mostly smoke inhalation problems."

Blue nodded. "I know that feeling of dread," he said. "When I was sixteen, a bunch of Tom's horse herd got out on the railroad tracks and the train plowed through them. He called me to come help and I didn't want to go."

"Did you?"

"Yeah, I did. It was bad."

I nodded sympathetically. "That's the worst part of my job. Dealing with horses that are really badly hurt. Especially when I can't help them."

"It just wrings your heart, doesn't it? They seem so innocent in their suffering. It's one of the things that got me interested in Buddhism." Blue turned his wineglass slowly; I stared at his long, graceful hand curved about the dark red wine.

"You told me once that you trained to be a Buddhist monk."

"I did. In Dharmasala. I was with a group of Australians; we were lucky enough to be taught by the senior tutor of the Dalai Lama."

"Wow. I don't know much about Tibetan Buddhism, but surely that's a big deal."

"It was a big deal," Blue said evenly. "Like I said, it was an honor. We were the first Westerners to receive that particular teaching. "

"So what turned you against becoming a monk?"

"Women, I guess." Blue smiled at me. "I like women too much."

"En masse?" I smiled back at him.

"No. One at a time." Blue got up from the table and took my hand; I stood up with him. "Can we go sit on the couch?" he asked.

"Sure."

Still holding my hand, he led me over to the couch in the corner. As we settled into it, I could just see the full moon rising behind the big blue gum tree on the ridge. The next second it was blocked by Blue's face as he leaned toward me.

Our lips touched; I was conscious of a million tiny details-the silvery moonlight flowing in my big window, the warm scent of Blue's skin, the touch of his hand on my back. Then everything was swallowed up in our mouths meeting and exploring each other.

Many long minutes later Blue sat up and met my eyes. Pulling me into him, he smiled. "I've been wanting to do that all night."

"Me, too," I said truthfully, and then we were back together again, learning each other's ways.

Blue slipped his hands under my dress and caressed my back; I rubbed his shoulders gently. I could feel the warmth building between us, could feel myself softening. Everything was touching, feeling, scent and skin. Until my mind said, wait.

Why, my heart answered.

You might get hurt, the mind replied.

For another long moment I wallowed in the physical closeness, my mouth connected to Blue's mouth, my body pressed against his. I could feel the longing deep inside, the intense desire to open up to him. But my mind was unrelenting. Do you really want to go to bed with this guy? What about tomorrow?

Shit. The questions took root; I was losing my ability to concentrate on physical sensation. Gently, I disentangled myself.

Blue looked into my eyes. I could read the longing in his, feel the intensity. He reached out for me again; I held his hand in mine.

"Wait," I said quietly.

"All right."

"I'm sorry to be such a spoilsport, but I'm not sure I'm ready for this."

 
Blue looked puzzled, as well he might.

"I do want you." I shrugged helplessly. "I guess the simplest way to put it is that I'm not completely comfortable going to bed with someone I'm not in a relationship with."

Blue thought about that a minute. "So how do we get in a relationship?" he asked. "Do I need to promise lifelong fidelity before we sleep together?"

I laughed. "When you put it like that it sounds ridiculous. Still, it's true in a way. I've never been promiscuous. The only men I ever slept with were all my boyfriend at the time, and, yeah, we were in a committed relationship."

Blue sighed, and I could feel the moment slipping away. Damn you, Gail, I cursed myself, why couldn't you just relax and let go for once in your life.

Then he smiled at me. "So how about I court you for a while. So you know I'm really interested in you. I can't promise lifelong fidelity at this point, but I can sure wait to go to bed until you're comfortable with it." He reached out his hand and took mine. "I won't quit trying, though. That's part of the courting. I want you to know just how interested I am."