House of the Blue Sea (23 page)

“So now you only ride in the winter when you come here? That seems a shame.”

“Oh, I ride at home too. I have friends with horses and they are quite happy to have me exercise one or two of them. It’s not the same as having my own but it’s been very good experience after riding one horse for so long. It’s less predictable.”

“We can grow quite comfortable in our own little world without a wave or two to mix things up.” His face darkened. “And sometimes we don’t realize just how complacent we’ve become until the water is over our heads.”

Oh, oh, clouds forming.
“I’m going to take Tormenta a carrot. Would you like to come?”

“In the dark?”

“Oh come on, we’ll take the lantern. Mr. Rochester wouldn’t have batted an eye!”

“You see, this is exactly what I was speaking of. Some author creates a fantastical hero that I am constantly held up to. And where is he now, Edward Fairfax Rochester? Safely in the pages of Bronte’s book, that’s where!” He stood and banged one hand on the table top.

“Nice performance. Now, let’s go.”

Sandra held the lantern ahead of them as they walked, the twilight now faded into night. “There are lights once we get to the barn.”

“How very modern. The place only looks like something out of the old west.”

“It does, doesn’t it? I always feel a bit like I’ve stepped onto one of John Wayne’s movie sets.”

Sandra set the lantern on the ground in front of the barn and went in for the lights. “Alejandro would kill me if I took the lantern into his barn.” She felt her way to the panel and switched on the overhead lights before heading into the feed room for the carrots.

Mark followed, hands in his pockets, looking around at the various bins and bags of feed. “Quite the equine smorgasbord in here. Do they eat
all
this stuff?” Mark lifted the lid from a plastic bin and stuck his hand into the oats, letting them fall through his fingers.

“Different horses have different dietary needs. Most of this is for the breeding stock and young horses. The average adult horse gets by on hay or grass, although Alejandro gives them extra during the clinics.”

She handed Mark a few large carrots from the bunch she carried. “For Tranquilo.”

“Ah yes, my trusty steed.”

Sandra pulled the switch for the lights as they left the barn and Mark retrieved the lantern from where they’d left it. “Shouldn’t there be a fairly full moon tonight?” Mark asked, looking up at the sky.

“I think it’s just not up yet. It was late last night, around ten.”

Mark held the lantern aloft. “I guess this will have to do then. I hope we don’t frighten the poor beasts, lurking about in the dark.”

“They’re used to it. The students often visit the horses after dark, mostly trying to strike bargains for the next day’s riding.”

“And how does that work out for them?”

Sandra laughed. “From experience I can say, not very well.”

A soft nicker met them as they neared Tormenta’s paddock, followed by another and then a third.

“Did we bring enough carrots? Sounds like a mob.”

“Tormenta and Tranquilo are both in this area, along with two other mares.” Sandra squeezed between the fence rails, straddling a middle rail for a moment before touching ground on the other side.

“I think I’d best go over the top or you might have to pry me out from between those rails.” Mark handed the lantern to Sandra before climbing up and vaulting over the top rail, landing squarely on both feet.

“Nicely done, Mr. Rochester.” She could see his smile in the lantern light, a little crooked, but somehow perfect.

“I have my moments.”

The horses were a few feet away, waiting in the darkness. Tormenta nickered and stepped forward, taking a bite from the carrot Sandra offered. She stroked the mare’s neck and kissed her muzzle. “I wonder if I can fit you in my Toyota. What do you think, girl?”

The other three mares were crowded around Mark as he held the lantern high above his head with one hand, the carrots grasped in the other. The mares quickly located the treats and were reaching and grabbing. “All right girls, no pushing now. Be gentle.”

Sandra went to his rescue, moving the horses back and taking the lantern. She showed him how to offer the carrots so they could take a bite without sucking the entire thing into their mouths. He talked to the horses, stroking their faces as they chewed while Sandra leaned on the fence and watched. He was good with them.

“Did you have animals when you were growing up?” she asked.

“We had an Alsation when I was a young boy. He was my father’s dog from before my parents married. When Sig was gone there were no more pets, my mother saw to that. Although my brother did talk her into a turtle at some point, until she found out about the diseases they can carry. The turtle was banished to a cousin’s pond.”

“So your mother wasn’t an animal person.”

“That’s an understatement. She was barely a child person. Anything that upset her perfect house and busy calendar were not worth having. They were an unlikely pair, my parents, the nutty professor and the socialite. I was never sure what made it work.”

The carrots were gone and one horse and then another wandered off to seek out the last morsels of Alejandro’s night feeding. Mark snorted. “Typical women—they take all you’ve got and then head off in search of something more.”

“What? I’d say that’s much more typical of men. We women are the hearth keepers.”

“So you say.”

“I take it that hasn’t been your experience?”

“Not exactly, no.” He climbed up and over the fence, not risking the vault this time but instead climbing down one rail at a time. He held out his hand and took the lantern from Sandra so she could squeeze back through the rails. They walked along in silence, Sandra waiting for him to continue.

“My ex-wife, Serena, definitely not a hearth keeper, although she wasn’t entirely to blame. It’s tough to keep a hearth for someone who’s never home, if she’d been so inclined. But she wasn’t very ... domestic, or maternal.”

“So you don’t have children?”

“No, she was never interested, too busy with her career, although I hear she’s pregnant now. She’s back in America, in Montana, married to a screenwriter. It’s like she’s turned into a different person than the one I knew. I’m not sure which one was real.”

“Maybe they both were. Some people bring out qualities in us that others don’t.”

Mark looked over at her, the lantern lighting his face from below. “Very true.”

When they got back to the house there was a new bottle of wine on the table, as well as some chocolate-dipped fruit and a note from Alejandro:
“Gone to bed. Enjoy the rest of the evening!”

“To bed? It’s barely nine o’clock,” Mark said, looking at his watch.

“For all his energy, Alejandro is an early-to-bed kind of guy. But then he’s up long before dawn doing chores.”

“I guess it’s just us then.”

“I guess it is.” Sandra felt a rush of nerves.

“More wine?”

That might help.
“I don’t ride until ten tomorrow morning so, why not.”

“How long are you staying at the ranch?” Mark asked, filling Sandra’s glass.

“Until day after tomorrow. There’s a group coming in so I need to clear out by Sunday afternoon to give them time to prepare. Martina will be home Sunday morning.”

“And you’ll do some more riding?”

“Yes, definitely. Two morning lessons and I’m hoping for another canter down the beach— maybe without the swim this time.”

“Well here’s to enjoyable, and dry, riding.” Mark held up his glass and clinked it against Sandra’s.

“And you? What’s your plan?” Sandra asked.

“I’ll head back to San Leandro tomorrow, but I’d like to stay to watch you ride in the morning, if you don’t mind.”

Sandra hesitated, thinking back to the morning’s ride and her hyper awareness of Mark looking on. “No, I don’t mind.”

“You’re sure?”

She wasn’t, but if Mark was managing a horse of his own. ... “Maybe you’d like to ride with me. Alejandro is a marvelous teacher.”

“I’m sure he is, but I think I’ll just spectate. I’d like to see more of this ‘western dressage’.”

“This morning wasn’t a very good example. Tormenta and I weren’t clicking like we usually do.” Sandra examined her wine glass. Tomorrow morning it would be challenging again but she was determined to focus on her riding rather than who was watching and what he might be thinking.

Mark was leaning back in his chair with one foot resting on the other knee, his hands folded around the bowl of his wineglass. He seemed different than the guy who’d sat across from her at breakfast less than two weeks ago. He was more at ease now, more real, far less prickly, and not so furry and rumpled of course. Grey was showing around his temples and peppered through the rest of his dark hair but his face appeared more youthful and less clouded than it had then, like some deep trouble had been erased.

“You seem happier than you were a couple of weeks ago,” Sandra said.

His eyes lifted to hers and he nodded slowly. “I suppose I am. And I believe I have you to thank for that.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. You’re a good influence, and you seem to have a calming effect on me.” He paused. “I see that expression and I know what you’re thinking but, knocking over chairs and hitting table tops aside, you do, maybe partially because you poke at exactly the things I need to think about in a less self-pitying way.”

“You make me sound like your therapist.”

“Well, I suppose you have been, in a sense. But I’m not cured yet so don’t think your work is finished. And, I still owe you a dinner.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I wanted to give you the painting.”

“I know, and I want to make you dinner.” His face became serious and the intensity of his gaze made Sandra look down at the hands in her lap.

Sandra felt her stomach dance at the thought of being alone with Mark in his house. Excitement or fear? She wasn’t sure. “All right then, dinner.”

“You’re home Sunday, so, Monday next?”

“How about Wednesday, or Thursday? I’d like a couple of days to wash the horses out of my clothes and get back to painting.”

“Wednesday it is then. I can’t offer quite the surroundings of Alejandro’s ranch but— Have you painted here? It seems the ideal spot.”

“I’ve done a few sketches but I left my painting things back at Mar Azul. I like to stay focused on the horses while I’m here. There’s so much to learn from Alejandro and he doesn’t mind me following him around, picking up everything I can.”

They sat in silence for a time, sipping their wine, watching the candles burn down, the flames flickering with each whisper of breeze.

Mark spoke suddenly, like he’d been working the words in his head, “So you’ve been married?”

Sandra was startled by the question, running back over their conversations for any mention she’d made of Nick. “I was. But how did you know that?”

“You mentioned your in-laws, the sailors.”

Her tension faded. “Of course. Yes. I was married.”

He waited.

“And it feels like it was someone else’s life, a very long time ago. We married right out of high school.”

“How romantic.” Again he waited for her to go on. It seemed he wanted to hear the whole story.

“I suppose it was at the time. He was my first love, a senior in high school when I was still a junior. Graham Benson. He was athletic and popular and very handsome—blonde hair, blue eyes, broad shoulders—you know the type. I was so flattered when he noticed me and started flirting.” Sandra swirled the wine in her glass, memories flooding in. “At first I thought he was interested in my friend Annie, because she was much prettier than me, and then he asked me to the dance. He picked me up in his red Chevy convertible, met my parents, brought a corsage. It was a scene straight out of one of your movies.” She tilted her head back and closed her eyes, a picture of Graham appearing on the backs of her lids. “He wore a blue corduroy blazer with patches at the elbows, a white shirt and Levi jeans. And he smelled like Aqua Velva.” She took a breath through her nose and opened her eyes to look at Mark. “
There’s something about an Aqua Velva Man
.
”
Sandra sang. “Did you have that commercial in England?”

Mark smiled but said nothing.

Sandra continued, “I was so excited walking into the dance hall on Graham’s arm. I still couldn’t believe he’d asked me. I began to wonder why, if it was maybe some sort of bet with his friends or a trick he was put up to by Ginnie Maxwell. She hated me for some reason, even before Graham chose me over her. But then we danced, song after song, never missing the slow ones, and my disbelief just faded away. The last dance was ‘Beth’ by Kiss—and at the end he looked down into my eyes and kissed me on the lips. I melted. I was instantly and completely in love.”

Mark chuckled. “It does sound like one of my movies.”

“We were inseparable through his remaining year of high school and when I was in grade twelve, he would come to the school to take me for lunch every day. He was working by then, for his father’s automotive business. We married as soon as I graduated. He worked and I went to university.”

“And lived happily ever after?”

“For about a week.” She laughed. “But then we started to drift apart. I think he was intimidated by my becoming more educated than he was. He started spending more time with his friends who were still single, staying out later and later on weekends, and then one night he didn’t come home at all. He’d slept with Ginnie Maxwell after a party at his friend Frank’s. Good old Ginnie. She must have been waiting all those years for her chance.”

“Ah, the ever-important villain.”

“No, it wasn’t her, she was just convenient. I forgave him but we were never the same after that. Things were better for a while but I felt I couldn’t trust him and he wasn’t comfortable around me. He needed to be that hero he was in high school but it was gone after graduation. His drinking increased and I stopped caring whether he came home or not. One night I woke up in the wee hours, his side of the bed still empty, and I knew it was time to go. I packed a suitcase and went to my parents. And that, as they say, was the end of that.” Sandra took another drink from her glass, realizing she was feeling a bit light-headed. “Sorry, that was a rather long answer to a simple question.”