Buellton California @ MindSay

 

I admired people who say they didn’t dwell on things, but I didn’t really believe them either.  It’s rare  that I can  just forget my troubles and what’s on  my mind. But  I  had been  fortunate and  gotten to get some work done and slip away without anyone bothering to notice.    I wanted to spend the rest of  the day disconnected, try not to think  so much, and going for a late morning, rest-of-the-day ride  with the Sorrel mare  was just the thing we needed.

 

I  pulled up next to  the stalls with as little fanfare as  possible, wanting to  tack  up and be distant if and when anyone noticed. My Lady was  in the  middle of  something important  by the  look she gave me, but she turned away from her attention, came to my  shoulder and then looked past me  as if to say,  “where are you  taking me today, or should I?” 

 

Horses are flight animals,  sensitive to changes in attitudes and emotions. In a herd, the dominate mare protects the young and leads the others when she senses danger.   On our rides,  the Sorrel mare and I switch leads. I may start something, but she'll respond, and may take  off  in another direction that we weren't  sure about,  or didn't even  see  just a  few minutes  before.  When I'm confident, and know e-x-a-c-t-l-y what I want, she'll settle in and, if I'm  lucky,  confident or not,  she'll give in, without too much effort,  and see where I'm taking  "us". 

 

It was dusky with a  full moon when I  left  her. She stood close  until  I got  her  stall ready for  her  and  said goodnight. Whatever my overall failings were, I’d done  good  today, as far as she was concerned and we'd spent the day together showing each other things of interest.  It  was  dark,  the highway was busy, there  was a sweet  coolness in the air and  my  Carhardt jacket  suddenly felt  awfully good,  driving with the  window  down, the  floor heater on as I headed over to  The Maverick.

 

Jeneane came by with a warm smile, warmer kiss on my cheek and hot hot coffee. "You know  me  too well my love. Get rid  of your old man yet?"    She laughed and I got another kiss. "Not until I make all the payments on that Harley, and he worships me twice a night like the sex goddess I am."  

"Thank  God for the credit union, huh?"  I asked. She  laughed again and nodded.  They'd met when she was 16, he was 30.  He rode up on a hog with a  suicide clutch, took one look at that pretty face, bustline, and long red hair . . . and promptly put her on the back. She finally gave up trying to keep her dress from  flying up and just hung on.  Since she couldn't marry him at 16, she just stayed . . . "under the  covers and under him" . . . she'd say, "my momma knew what was goin' on and just told my dad I was stayin' with her sister since I couldn't  mind at home. He was a driver and didn't get that I was shacked up  . . ."  

 

They'd been on their first date for 19 years, two sons . . . and a miscarriage that almost  killed her. He was Saved the next Sunday. He never said, and no one dared ask the deal he made. He told me about it on the truck when he found out that part of my  story.  She told me, she said her vows in  prayer and to him, he just said  he  loved her every single day since then.

 

Rick painted pictures and drove a  big Volvo VT880 with a condo and was very good, at both.   I met him when  he caught me admiring his rig in the Maverick's parking lot. I  could drive, asked  questions and had everything in a bag, he had recognized was like the one his son carried  on leave. We'd almost finished the half pint when  he showed me the picture ofJeneane at 16, and then his oldest in his first picture in his dress  blues . . .  "He sent that to  his  momma, so she would be the first to  see him as a real Marine.  You sent yours to your momma didn't ya?"  Since then he and I had taken a few loads to Flagstaff and spent a couple of perfect  days there  in a blizzard that gave way to sexy dirty phone calls home "to the baby's momma" . . .

 

Jeneane looked me over . . . "Porterhouse, more rare than medium, two pads of butter on top, fries . . . Uh,  have you eaten today baby?"

"maybe . . . coffee and biscuits this  . . ."

" fries, two eggs and biscuits . . . large milk,  or you want iced  tea?"

"uhhh. . . "

" . . . large milk .  . . biscuits . . . gravy if there's any  left . . .  You want a shot?" She refilled the coffee and raised an eyebrow at me.  I  nodded.

"JD  or  Te-kill-ya?  . . . . I'm bringin' JD . . . you were drinking Te-kill-ya that night,  if I remember . . ."

"I gotta  start goin'  someplace else" I sipped  my coffee,  she walked  behind  the bar and set a heavy four ounce  shot glass  down, poured a little over half. She  smiled  took a sip, and handed  it to me.

"You go someplace else?  WHO would  have you? You cause trouble. Just sittin' there.  I've  seen  it."

"Be nice to me,  please?"

"You've been riding today. You're little mare?"

 

I didn't have a chance to defend  myself, when   .  . .

"Let me guess . .  . porterhouse steak, kinda rare with butter on top,  grilled onions or eggs?"  Rita used her Native-American-Feminine-sneak and came up without me  noticing. "Uhhh .  . . eggs,  he didn't say anything about grilled onions tonight. Maybe he's got  a  hot date?  Do you baby . . .?  Hmmm?"  Jeneane smiled and raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, then  . . . fries, biscuits and gravy .  .  . uhhh . . . . milk,  he  drinks gallons  of it!!    and  hot-hot coffee. How's that?"  Rita smiled  and they both  laughed at me.

"I gotta start goin' someplace else"  

"Who would have you?"  Rita said.  Then they both laughed at me. Rita picked up the whiskey  "He needs nother . .  . I'll take the porterhouse, extra butter and  just put  the fries  on a big  platter . . . lots of fries . . . do you have any pie? Put that on HIS tab"   She ducked under the brim of my hat and looked me in the eyes . . . "okay hon? I'm hungry . .  . damn . . . didn't bring my purse!"  I held up the empty  whiskey glass and sipped the coffee.

"You think you know  me so damn well"

"You've  been  riding your "little mare"  all day. I can smell her on you."

"I gotta start going someplace  else"

"Don't  make us come  lookin' for you. You know, you'd  just start trouble  again."  Another laugh at  my expense.

"The Sheriff was sittin  there, right  there"  Jeneane pointed to a barstool . . .  and Rita blushed when she said it.

 

I got a big smile I-told-you-so smile from Jeneane and she refilled the whiskey and  poured coffee  for Rita as she drained  my  icewater glass. She pushed the empty glass  for  more  water and picked up the whiskey again and sipped it. "Don't you have to TELL him about  those  steaks or is  he a psychic?"  Rita gave a look in the direction  of the  kitchen. Jeneane laughed and turned  in the order  and  patted  my face. "You better  feed  her.  She's a  real bitch when she's hungry . . . and she's always a hungry little  thang . . ." Rita made a face.

 

Rita took off her hat  and straightend the  thick braid down her  back and sat on the barstool next to me. "Get that table  by  the  fire. I got a chill. I'm going to wash my face  and I'll be back. Buy me dinner?"   I was about  to speak . . . she  got up and leaned over and gave me  a quick  kiss. The first one .  .  . ever. I was stunned and knew to keep my damn  mouth shut.  I looked  over . . . Jeneane saw it and smiled. "I guess things have changed.  You know, you  caused a lot  of trouble with that. Sheriff was sittin' there, then . . . I couldn't believe it . . . " 

 

She  was  referring  to my last Saturday night, about 3 weeks ago, but that's another story. "You'd  had a  couple, it was a bad day  and a man doesn't need an excuse past that.  Rick  thought you just  might kill  that guy. You  made your point, you walked off . .  . pretty fuckin' romantic. Rick got lucky that  night. You didn't though. Jeneane  brought me  another.

"Okay, that's  what I needed to  hear. Can we change  the subject please?" I sipped the whiskey before Rita  got  back.

 That was about 3 weeks right?  That means she's . . . hmmm?  Jeneane smiled to herself.

 

Rita came back, moved her hat out  of the chair and plopped  down in  the one next to me instead of across  from me. "How's  your mare?  I bet you cleaned her stall, fluffed  her  pillow while she was feeding"

"You think you know so much"

"That mare has your number. You do anything she wants."

"Do not"

"She's a dominant  mare, and would lead a stallion around by his dick.  You're  not much of a challenge. But you drive her crazy sometimes."

"Huh?"

"Sometimes you just have to have THINGS EXPLAINED  to you,  cause you don't have a clue  . . . YOU REFUSE to listen to any male-person unless he's a blood brother . . .  YOU DO NOT take hints well at all. NOT at  all. Or advice.  You HATE  being told what to do. You DON'T LISTEN to anyone . . ."

"I gotta start going somewhere elese."

 

We ate everything that was set in front  of us and sipped  one glass  of whiskey and the same cup of coffee, as the fire soaked us and I listened to Rita's day and  we talked horses, and trucks. 

"Better?"  She  asked as she raked the last dozen french fried into her plate. She was tiny, beautiful bustline, narrow hipped . . .  and ate more than I  did.

"No business or troubles  tonight. Agreed?"   She smiled and finished the last sip  of  whiskey and looked around with that "wonder-what-kind-of-pie-do-they-have-and-WHEN-are-they-coming-or-do-I-have-to-do-it-myself" look".

 

We usually enjoyed  our own company  and didn't  have to talk, but could sit quietly. Seemed  like  there was  someone playing  a lot  of Brooks & Dunn. I got my very own idea and looked  over at Rita. She was  looking at me . . . stood up and reached for my  hand and  headed for the  dance floor.   We only danced a couple  of  times before,  and once  when she was pissed  at  me . . . still, to this day, don't  know why for . . .

 

" . . . She's about as lonely as I'm gonna let  her  get . . ."  the Brooks & Dunn's  duet set a perfect two step and as we  hit the edge  of the dance floor.  I spun her with only her  finger tips and caught  her close to  me. I looked down to  that thick braid going down her back, and her hips . . . she put  her  arm around  my waist and put  her  face  close to my chest.  If I couldn't dance without thinking  about it, I wouldn't have known what to do. She fit in my arms like I'd  imagined she might, and  for a second  I didn't know what to think.  I thought I'd see  if my luck for the day was holding out . . . and held her  a  little  tighter . . . she laid her head  on my  chest.

"Right  there"  She whispered  and looked up and smiled at me.

 

The song ended  and we  didn't  move. Another played and another, slower . . .  and we danced to the darker corner of the floor, near our table.  We were moving slowly together,  more than we  were dancing.  A little bit  of light went  a long way and I looked down to her blouse and just reached down and unbuttoned the  second button.  She  had her arm around my waist and put her other one on my shoulder when I did.   I unbuttoned  two more and slid my hand past, and more than filled it caressing her breasts.  She raised her face and  tilted her head for  a kiss.  She put her knee against my thigh as I felt her nipples rise against the soft thin fabric of her bra.

 

"Someone should otta put a 'nother song on,  so you two have something to  dance to . . . " Jeneane walked by, bringing two large pieces of pie to the table . . .  and giggled as Rita left  my  hand where it was, hid her hand between  my thighs and pressed against  me,  for any little bit of modesty she could save.

 

"We're dancing the Two Step Tango . .  ."  I said, in defense  of My Lady's honor. Rita squeeled softly and whispered. I looked down,  and there was that look I'd seen earlier  from  my Sorrel mare . . .  "Okay, you got the idea . . .  now where  are you taking us?"

 

{For Jamie}