Of Horses and Men
A man rode languidly through the canyon. Ordinarily, he would not choose a route that hemmed in him so tightly but avoiding it would add quite a bit to his journey. He reflected on the trip he had undertaken alone, turning down offers of company from his friends, needing to do what must be done in private.He smiled at the memory of their protests.
Was he serious? Go back to Texas to wait for a funeral? If he wasn't careful, it would end up being his funeral. Perhaps it will be, he had thought. But sometimes a man feels he has no choice and this was one of those times. Ray Clark was the last fragment of his childhood and he would bid the old timer farewell, whatever. To do otherwise was unconscionable.
Now, he was glad he had. He sat with Ray during his last night, wiping his brow when he was hot and helping him sip water when he was dry. A day later, he stood silently by the open grave - remembering - then watched the coffin slowly disappear under spadefuls of dust. Dust to dust. Ray was a man who loved the land, who sought nothing after death but to be a part of it, and who was now surely at peace.
Vin Tanner, for that was the rider's name, smiled. He'd thought he knew death well but now he wondered. He had faced death, and hastened it, countless times but never like this. The death he knew brought fear or horror, then left misery or loneliness in its wake. Today, death simply marked the end of a life well lived. Vin hoped that, when death came to him, he would be as ready to meet it as Ray had been. He looked around him, drinking in the beauty of the day, toasting Ray with the elixir the man had loved best.
Far above, a single pair of eyes followed Vin's progress. The canyon was part of a vast hacienda that took in thousands of acres and he was trespassing. The watcher withdrew a spyglass from a pocket and studied the intruder more closely.
The powerful lens stripped away the distance, a turn of the focus ring bringing every feature into sharp relief. Below a slouch hat, brown hair brushed the shoulders of a fringed buckskin jacket. A long holster, home to a mare's leg, ran halfway down one thigh of faded tan pants. The black gelding's every stride parted the jacket to reveal, in almost frivolous contrast to the subtle browns and tans, a scarlet shirt and blue bandanna.
The spy snapped shut the glass and dropped it back into the pocket. Strangers were rare on the hacienda. Belonging to the same family for longer than anyone could remember, and on the way to nowhere much, there was little to attract a visitor. Life was quiet. Life, on reflection, was boring. Never one to put prudence over fun, the observer embarked on a perilous descent calculated to intercept the newcomer about half a mile ahead.
Vin rode on, flowing with the river that wound along the bottom of the canyon, oblivious to the surveillance. His contemplative mood had eroded his customary vigilance. To allow it to do so here, alone, in a strange place, was reckless but no man can keep his guard up every hour of every day, year after year.
Even if all his senses had been straining to the limit, there was almost nothing for him to see or hear. His pursuer was as practiced in the ways of the wilderness as he was himself. He did not know he had company until he rounded a rocky outcrop and saw a paint Spanish mare standing across the trail about fifty paces ahead. He reined back and inspected the obstacle, poised to reach for his gun in an instant but not seeking a confrontation.
'Buenos días, Señor.'
Vin halved the distance between them.
'Buenos días, Señorita.'
He examined the young woman before him. Barely into her twenties, she wore a tailored riding suit over a lace blouse. Her raven hair hung down her back in a single long braid and a broad-brimmed hat sat at a rakish angle across gracefully arched eyebrows. Flawless olive skin was set with wide eyes of jet and generous lips of fuschia.
She rode forward boldly and evaluated him shamelessly. The hat pulled well down over his brow framed his face. At close quarters, his features were as even as she had judged them to be. She admired the keen blue eyes and strong stubbled jaw.
'You are a stranger here, Señor?'
He gave half a nod.
'You are the strong silent type, yes?'
The shadow of a smile touched his lips.
'You are on the hacienda of Don Carlos Santos.'
'And you would be?' he inquired.
'Rosella Maria Santos.'
'I see. You gonna shoot me for trespass then?' His soft drawl held only humor and curiosity.
Her eyes laughed as a wide smile lit up her face.
'I think you are fast with that.' She nodded at his gun. 'Are you fast with this?' She held up her reins.
He took another moment to study her. Beautiful women did not usually appear out of thin air and challenge him to races. It was years since he had even entertained such frivolities. But today, with its thoughts of Ray and memories of childhood, was no ordinary day.
'Pretty fair but that's a fancy mount you got there.'
She fondled the mare's mane, letting her gaze roam over Vin as she did so. She was very taken with those blue eyes, so different from the men she knew. Her own expressive orbs made no secret of her thoughts.
He looked back evenly, not immune but not stupid either. Señorita or Señora? Knowing Spaniards, he wasn't sure it made much difference. Trespassing on a man's family, as well as his land, wasn't a smart thing to do. Hell, he thought, I spent the past five years tryin' to be smart. Let's have some fun.
Sensing his decision, she turned on the spot and let the spirited mare have her head. There was little Rosella liked better than galloping so her steed was both fit and practiced. Poor old Peso had done half a day already and carried an extra fifty pounds.
Rosella's hat flew off in no time, bouncing behind her at the end of its cord. She made little attempt to guide Juanita, simply flowing with her as though they were one beast. Her spirit soared, as she savored the wind in her face and the sun on her skin.
Vin's pursuit was all together more calculated. He watched her course, noting where he could cut corners, using experience to wring more out of Peso. At first his gains were imperceptible but he slowly closed the gap. The nearer he got, the harder it was to concentrate. His eyes strayed to Rosella's slender waist when they should have been watching the ground below, to her shapely behind when they should have been looking ahead. With his last reserves of self-control, he pressed Peso into a final supreme effort: all or nothing, do or die - they would catch their quarry. Inch by inch he clawed away at Rosella's lead.
At last, he drew level. With a flash of perfect teeth, Rosella sat a little straighter and relaxed, letting the mare slow in her own time. It was another quarter of a mile before the horses dropped to a walk.
'What do I get for catchin' you then? Safe passage?'
With a mischievous grin, Rosella encouraged Juanita into an easy jog and led Vin over to a knot of wizened old pines. He followed, dismounted and held a hand up to his rival. She swept her leg over the pommels of her sidesaddle in a flurry of snowy petticoats and then dropped gracefully into his arms.
The kiss she planted on his lips took him by surprise. He looked down at his clothes, coated in a thick layer of dust and hardly fit for courting. She kissed him again, careless of such trivialities. He did not even try to stop himself from responding, his blood running too fast from the contest to resist Rosella's innate zest.
He ran his tongue around her mouth and his hands over her body. She was still panting from the exertion and the rhythmic pressure of her ribs against his palms thrilled him. His own breathing, instead of settling to an easier cadence, quickened. His heart, just beginning to slow after the race, pounded again.
Reluctantly, he drew away. Rosella was young and mischievous. Her behavior was foolhardy but that did not compel him to take advantage of her.
'You shouldn't go foolin' around with strangers,' he told her kindly. 'You might get more than you bargain for.'
She looked up at him with such wide-eyed innocence, as if she had no idea what he meant, that he laughed.
'All right, maybe not more than you bargain for but I reckon you got a Pa somewhere, ain't you?'
That vexed her. 'Don Carlos is much too busy to worry about me.'
Vin understood the petulance in her voice, the resentment of a child who felt ignored and unloved.
'Your Ma?'
'She died when I was little.'
Vin knew what that felt like. He drifted back to his thoughts about what Ray meant to him after his Ma died. But Rosella wasn't a child and looking for a parent's love from strange men would only bring her misery.
'You wanna make him pay attention at my expense? Get me shot? Or at your expense? Get knocked up?'
Her lip trembled and he knew the tears in her eyes were real, not feigned to manipulate him. She blinked them back, took out the spyglass and turned it over in her hand. 'No. I liked the look of you.'
He smiled and stroked her cheek with his knuckles. 'I like the look of you too.'
'Truly?'
The surprise in her voice was as genuine as the tears. How a young woman as beautiful and spirited as she could doubt her appeal was beyond Vin. He wondered just how isolated she had been, out here with only a mare and a few tumbleweeds for company.
'Don't you know any men?' he asked softly.
'Only at home. I am just Señorita Rosella to them. They have known me all my life.'
'Take my word for it, you won't find many men that don't like the look of you. But that ain't always such a good thing.'
Half a smile crept back. 'But you would not warn me about bad men if you were a bad man.'
She was hard to resist.
'I ain't a bad man. But I'm still a man.'
Rosella rested her hands on Vin's collarbones and looked intently into his eyes. Behind the kindness and concern were deeper, more primitive urges. They reminded her of tales she'd been told, aimed at making her behave properly but succeeding only in piquing her curiosity. She wanted to know what passed between men and women. She wanted this man to show her.
'I am twenty-one,' she told him. 'Is that not old enough?'
'Oh, it's old enough all right. But that ain't the whole thing, now is it? I bet your Pa's got plans for you.'
'I am to marry my cousin when he returns from Spain.'
'You love him?'
She considered his question carefully before answering. 'Deeply, like a brother, but he does not… excite me… like this.' She took his hand and laid it on her breast. Her heart was racing.
Vin closed his fingers around hers, feeling the smoothness of her skin and the openness of her heart. In her eyes, he saw the yearning to discover, to experience, to live.
'I shall marry Raul in three months and I shall be a faithful wife. But…'
As he said, Vin was a man, albeit a good one. Seeing that her longing was genuine, that she felt a hunger as intense as his own, he wavered. He closed his eyes as her lips brushed against his.
'…but right now…?'
'Now I want to know what it is I have not been doing all this time.'
Vin held her away to examine her face. 'You don't know?'
The deep blush that began in her cheeks and spread to her brow only heightened her beauty. 'We breed horses but… horses are not men.'
He laughed. 'When it comes to this, there ain't so much difference.' Holding her close again, he considered his answer. 'Look, I ain't takin' a chance on leavin' you with trouble but… we can still… if you want….'
'I want.' She smiled sweetly and led him back to the horses. 'There is a place I go to think.'
They rode side by side along the canyon floor. After about forty minutes, she turned towards the sheer cliff at their right. It wasn't until they were within fifteen paces that a small cave came into view, tucked to one side of a spine of rock. Rosella dismounted, leaving Juanita loose, and went inside.
Vin followed and looked around. The cave was warm and dry, shallow enough to be well lit from its large, south-facing mouth. It had clearly been a private place for Rosella since childhood. As well as the bottles of wine, dry provisions and books she used now, there were toys and games she must have brought long before. A straw-tick rested on a rock ledge, covered with a colorful quilt.
He wondered if she regularly entertained men here under the pretext that she had given him. If she did, she was the best liar he'd ever met. He wasn't sure a woman could feign the emotions he'd seen chase one another through her eyes. In truth, it didn't really matter. He would feel better at being the victim of such a deception than taking advantage of a girl who might later regret her actions.
When she turned to him, offering a bottle of wine, her uncertainty and shyness drove his doubts away.
'Thanks. But give me a minute. I'll head back to the river and clean up a bit.'
She nodded and watched his back as he rode away. Would he return? Her youth had not been filled with warnings about men because there were so few strangers in the area and none of her father's staff would dare to touch their mistress. Safe in her predictable home, yearning for thrills, she devoured endless tales of romance and adventure. She knew there was a world beyond the hacienda where a man might be good or evil, brave or cowardly, chivalrous or dangerous. She had no idea what this man would do and that was what made him so exciting.
Vin shook his head slowly as he rode. Women simply did not appear out of the desert and offer themselves to men, or at least they never had to him. He wasn't in the habit of doing what he was doing now, not because he didn't have the same drives as any man but because he didn't aim to leave women to bring up bastard children alone. He occasionally indulged himself with an experienced woman, in a white man's saloon or an Indian village, but more often than not he took care of his own needs. He had no intention of leaving Rosella with a pregnancy she couldn't account for. Even if her cousin was that unusual kind of man who would cover for her, he might be faced with a baby that could not pass for a Spaniard.
Any other time, Vin would probably have ridden on. But Rosella caught him on a day when he felt so full of life, and the love of life, that the crowning act of human life was irresistible. He dismounted at the river's edge, checked around carefully to ensure he was alone - thinking of safety not modesty - then stripped to wash. Taking a small jar of soap from his saddlebag, he scrubbed away the grime of four days on the trail. His disdain for fancy clothes and excessive grooming didn't mean that he enjoyed filth and, unlike many men of the west, he would not subject a woman to it. Unfortunately, traveling light as he always did, he had no clean clothes. Fortunately, he didn't expect to be wearing them for long.
He rode back to the cave, an erection aching in his pants while he fought to subordinate his own intense desire to the romantic plans he had for Rosella's initiation. When he reached her, she was sitting primly on the ledge with dinner laid out on a boulder. He was touched by the childlike quality he saw in her, so unsure of what was expected, so eager to please. He accepted her hospitality, dining lightly but enjoying the agreeable red wine.
'Where were you going?' she asked.
'Home.' He was surprised by his own choice of word. Was Four Corners home? He supposed it was. 'Been in Texas for a funeral.'
'Please accept my condolences.'
He smiled at the formality. 'He was an ol' fella, ready to go, but I'm glad I was there at the end.'
She nodded. 'You seemed happy.'
'Yeah. I was rememberin'. Ray loved the land, taught me 'bout it when I was a kid. You ride out here a lot?'
'Sí. My schooling is complete and my marriage is yet to come. I have little to do.'
'You… happy to marry your cousin?'
'Sí. It is my duty. He is kind - I think many women are not so lucky.'
A smile creased the corners of Vin's eyes. 'Many men sure ain't so lucky.'
'Gracias. I shall try to be a good wife but I do not want to think of that now.'
He nodded. He didn't want to think of that now either.
'You sure this is what you want?' he checked again. The resolve in her nod made him smile. 'Any time you wanna stop, you say so.'
'I heard that men couldn't stop.'
The lie made him laugh. 'That's what they tell you. Don't you worry - I can stop whenever you want me to.'
He moved to her side but she put a hand on his chest, symbolically holding him back. With a tilt of an eyebrow, he asked what was wrong.
'You are not married, are you, Señor?'
'Vin. No. You won't be hurtin' no one.' It moved him that she cared, even for such a brief encounter.
She relaxed with a smile. 'Vin. I like that.'
He touched his lips tenderly to hers, tasting the wine, tasting her skin. She ran her fine fingertips over his face, tracing the contours and stroking his stubble. He slipped off his jacket and threw it to one side. She did the same, then stood in front of him. Through the lace of her blouse, he caught tantalizing glimpses of her undergarments. He watched as she unfastened a series of tiny pearl buttons. His excitement mounted as she revealed the hourglass figure below, firm breasts above that slender waist. She unbuttoned her skirt and let it fall carelessly to the ground, followed by three layers of fancy petticoats. Gazing at her immaculate underwear, he wondered if she always dressed so beautifully. He supposed that was how heiresses were brought up.
He pulled her onto his lap, then kissed her eagerly while running his hands over her breasts. Through the fine cambric of her camisole, he felt every detail of her large, erect nipples with his fingertips while he nuzzled at her cleavage. She pulled one tail of the bow that fastened the drawstring round the neckline of the camisole. He opened it to expose her breasts, taking each into his mouth in turn. She sighed and gasped, feeling unfamiliar pulses all over her body.
'I have never seen horses do this,' she whispered.
'True.'
Vin let her take off his shirt, then rolled her onto the bed and stood to mimic her striptease. He was ashamed that his own underwear was far less immaculate than hers but she seemed not to notice. He glanced around outside the cave one last time, took a moment to prop his gunbelt where he could reach it in an instant, then peeled off his last layer.
Rosella watched in fascination, having seen only boys and fleeting glimpses of men before. The stranger's skin was paler than that of the men who worked the hacienda and his body was almost free of hair. A narrow band of fine brown growth linked his nipples and another drew her eye downwards, from his navel to the engorged flesh below.
Vin's smile held a mixture of amusement at her wide-eyed gaze and embarrassment at the candor of her appraisal. When he returned to her side, she ran a finger tentatively over his erection, exploring its shape and the skin stretched smooth and shiny over its head. She leaned down and touched it with her tongue. It was Vin's turn to gasp. Sensing his pleasure she kissed every inch of its length. When a drop of clear fluid seeped from the tip, she touched her tongue to it, eager to experience every minute detail of their encounter.
Taking her head in his hands, he lifted her face to his and kissed her lips, thrilled by the thought of where they had been. Shaking his head slightly, he whispered, 'Not so fast. I won't last long like that.'
He eased off her drawers and kissed the insides of her thighs. The skin there was paler than her face, the color of milky coffee. It was so soft that he felt cruel abrading it with his unshaven jaw but she showed no discomfort. At the top of her long, slender legs was a dense mat of black curls. He ran his fingers through the tangled coils, quite different from the sparse hair of an Indian woman or the finer strands of a white woman. Parting the covering, he touched his tongue to the warm, wet cleft within.
A wave of desire flowed through Rosella's body as the tip of his tongue flickered over her folded flesh. She opened her legs a little wider and welcomed his fingers inside her. As her pleasure mounted, she quickly understood why he had stopped her a few minutes earlier. She knew she stood on the brink of a revelation and rested a hand on his head to slow him.
He moved alongside her and kissed her again. The taste of herself on his lips made her laugh delightedly.
'Good?' he asked.
'Wonderful,' she assured him.
He raised his body over hers and stroked her thighs and stomach with his cock, nuzzling its tip into her bush, spreading his glistening juices over her skin, wishing he could take that last step. After teasing himself to the edge of his willpower, he settled in a sixty-nine and returned to her private vale of paradise. She matched the ministrations of his tongue and fingertips, feeling the tension build in his body even as it grew in her own. He sighed as he felt those generous fuschia lips close around his shaft, enveloping him in their tender embrace.
As waves of ecstasy began to flow through her, Rosella felt Vin shudder. He was determined not to do anything that might spoil her first experience and pulled away from her mouth without interrupting his rhythmic stoking. She had no sooner taken him in her hand when his rigid flesh swelled still more and then bucked as the hard sacs at its base contracted. A second or two later, warm liquid jetted over her chin and onto her cleavage. She lay gasping softly, overwhelmed by the rush of strange sensations. Her left hand clasped his spent shaft while the fingers of her right touched the sticky secretion on her face.
Taking only the briefest moment to draw breath, Vin quickly turned around to tend to his initiate. After gently wiping her clean with his bandanna, he shifted her head onto his shoulder in a fond embrace.
'Thank you.' Her lips tickled his ear as she breathed the words.
'I should be thankin' you - this don't happen to me every day.'
'I hope it is like this… in the future.'
Vin kissed the top of her head. 'If it ain't, show him what you want. If he's a good man like you say, he'll wanna please you.' As an afterthought, he added, 'But don't be too obvious about it.'
She laughed. No, she was not supposed to know how it was done.
'Anyhow, I envy him, goin' the last bit.'
Her face brightened when she looked at him. 'Yes, he will still be getting something no other man has had. That is good.'
They lay together for an hour or so before forcing themselves to move. They dressed in contented silence. When they stood outside, Vin took her in his arms again.
'I hope you'll be happy, Rosella. This has been real special for me.'
'For me also.' Her liquid eyes shone.
They shared one last kiss then drew apart to mount their steeds.
'Adiós.' His voice was a mere murmur.
'Adiós.' Hers was a whisper.
She watched his retreating figure until he reached a curve in the canyon. He looked back, touched his hat brim and was gone.