Chapter 12 Darling
TWELVE
Darling
––––––––
I CAME UP BEHIND RICKY and poked his shoulder. As he looked to his left, I came up to his right.
“Oh, there you are,” he said with a playful grin. “You’re in a good mood this morning.”
“Indeed, I am. We’ve gotten a temporary go-ahead on this production.” I smiled at him. “And what are you up to this fine and surprisingly sunny morning?”
I’d found him standing in the inner courtyard admiring the architecture.
“Enjoying the petrichor left behind by last night’s rain,” he said, breathing in deeply.
“I see what you mean. I, too, love that pleasant scent. But then, I was thinking that you might want to spend some time with another scent.”
“I see where you’re going,” he said with a crooked grin. “The scent of hay and manure.”
I tilted my head to the side. “I heard through the grapevine that you’ll soon be shooting a scene atop...”
“I know. I know. On horseback. I’ve been dreading this day.”
“Well, dread no longer. The day has arrived. Let’s get a gelding saddled up and ready to go. We’ll simply take a slow and quiet ride, nothing dramatic.”
We exchanged pleasantries as we left the courtyard and crossed the grounds to get to the stable. To my surprise, he didn’t hesitate and try to talk himself out of meeting and riding a new horse.
Entering the stable, however, he did reach for my hand and held it for reassurance. I gave his hand a squeeze and led him to the box where Buster stood.
I opened the gate and entered his stall. “Hi, boy,” I said gently. “We’re going to take you out for a ride today. How would you like that?”
He stomped the ground with his hoof.
I turned to see Ricky still standing outside the stall.
“Come,” I said. “Introduce yourself and give him a pat.”
Wary, he entered slowly and hugged the wall of the stall, coming around on the side of the horse.
“Don’t,” I said. “Don’t sneak around him. You’ll spook him. Come straight to him. Let him see you. Let him know you’re kind and you’re coming to see him.”
“How do I let him know I’m kind?”
“Talk to him, gently, softly.”
He looked at Buster.
“Come to him slowly.”
He took a few steps closer. “Hello, Buster. I’m Ricky. Ricky Stone. I’ve worked on a number of movies, but I’ve never been asked to ride a horse before so...”
Buster whinnied and took a step back.
“What does that mean?” Ricky said.
“I think he questions your sincerity.”
“Well, Buster,” Ricky said. “I need to learn how to get on a horse, and I need to learn fast. Are you with me?”
Buster whinnied again and shook his head.
“Perhaps you could compliment him instead of giving him your list of needs.”
He glanced up at me. “Right.” He approached Buster. “Hey, boy. You’re a pretty boy, aren’t you? Yes, you are. And you’re a gentle boy, aren’t you? So gentle... just like Betsy.”
Ricky finally made physical contact with the animal and Buster accepted the gentle touch.
“I’ll show you how to ready him for a ride,” I said.
I left him alone with Buster and went to the tack room to pick up a bridle and saddle.
“Here you go,” I said as I returned.
“What am I supposed to do with all this?”
“This,” I said, holding up the bridle. “The bit goes in his mouth, this over his cheeks and back up here past his ears with the reins resting here.”
He glanced at the tiny saddle. “I thought saddles were big and manly.”
I smiled. “This is an English saddle. What you’re thinking of is a Western saddle.”
“Can’t we get one of those?”
I let out a laugh. “I seriously doubt the men of the Jane Austen era rode on Western saddles.”
With my help, he managed to get the bit into Buster’s mouth, got the bridle on properly and even put the small saddle atop Buster’s back and buckled it up properly.
“Good.”
Ricky leaned into me. “You’re a very good teacher,” he said, his eyes implying so much more. “I don’t think that I would be doing this if I were with anyone else. You have a way of calming me, of reassuring me.”
“It helps to have a good pupil,” I said. “You’re very open to learning everything there is to know.”
Without thinking, I leaned into him, and he pulled me into his arms. But just as he prepared to kiss me, Buster interrupted our moment with a loud snort.
“I think this Buster guy may be a little jealous,” Ricky said, his eyes still locked on mine.
“Then, let’s remedy that by getting you on his back.”
With a resigned sigh, he nodded and pulled back.
“The stirrups are a little high,” I said.
With my foot I nudged a short stool close to him, and he got on it.
“Your left foot here,” I said. “Your right up and over.”
He did as instructed and sat tall and proud atop Buster.
“There you go.”
“How do I look?”
“Like a true horseman,” I said.
He gave the reins a quick and sudden jiggle, and Buster responded by shuffling his hindquarters back and forth.
“Yeah,” I said. “You might not want to do that just yet. He doesn’t understand what you want.”
Grabbing the bridle, I opened the door to the stall and guided Buster out. “I’ll walk you out.”
“Aren’t you going to ride with me?”
“I don’t have a horse ready.”
“I mean, up here... with me.”
“That saddle is pretty small.”
“You could ride up here,” he said, patting Buster right in front of the small saddle.
“That wouldn’t be wise.”
“Just for a minute. Just until I get the hang of it.”
I looked Buster in the eye. “What do you say, old boy. Can you handle the both of us?”
He whinnied, almost an invitation
“All right,” I said. “Just for a minute. Just to ride out of the stable.”
Ricky held his hand out and helped me up onto Buster’s back. Settled uncomfortably at the base of Buster’s neck, I leaned back into Ricky’s chest as he wound his arm around my waist.
I swallowed the sudden sense of alarm that spread over me. His chest was warm and inviting, his hand respectfully at my waist with no attempt at anything untoward.
“You need to take control of Buster,” I said after clearing my throat. I removed his hand from my waist and put the rein in it.
Buster exited the open stable doors and out to the paddock.
“Now what?” Ricky whispered into my ear.
“Just let him walk,” I said, disturbed by the huskiness of his voice.
Ricky leaned forward, his chin on my shoulder and his hand around my waist once again as he held the reins with his other hand. “This is nice. Had I known it’d be like this, I would have ridden a horse a long time ago.”
“I think you’re already getting the hang of this,” I said.
We walked around the corral once, horse, rider and passenger all in harmony.
“This really is nice,” Ricky said.
I couldn’t argue with him. Even with my precarious position on Buster’s back, it was pleasant.
*****
AS I FLOATED ON THE high of my ride with Ricky, I entered the house to find Matthew and Susie cozying up to one another on the couch as they practiced lines that seemed unfamiliar to the script I knew so well.
Were they improvising? Were they re-writing the script I’d worked so hard on?
Susie reached up to caress Matthew’s cheek, her eyes filled with love and admiration.
“You are so wonderful, Matt. I could listen to you read your lines all day long.”
“You’re making me blush,” Matthew replied.
“And you’re adorable when you blush,” Susie shot back.
I felt sick to my stomach. Watching them together was torture and I needed to get my mind on something else, something pleasant.
As I rushed to turn away and leave, I stumbled over a small pedestal, announcing my presence to the rehearsing pair.
“Darling,” Matthew called out. “What perfect timing. Why don’t you come in and assess our scene.”
“I...” I looked out into the hall hoping to find any excuse to leave. “I really should...”
“It would really be helpful,” Susie said. “After all, you’re the one who worked on this script, right? We’re having issues with this scene and would like to know the intent behind these words.”
Argh.
“All right. I guess I could stay and listen for a bit.”
They stood up and faced one another.
“I assure you, Edmund,” Mary Crawford said, “I haven’t the vaguest idea what you’re referring to.”
Matthew responded but I barely heard a word. My mind was fogged up by the sight of them, standing inches away from one another, clearly enamored with one another.
I couldn’t bear it.
“How was that?” Matthew said, breaking through my fog.
“Huh? Oh. Good. Perfect. That sounded truly, just fine.”
“Well, which is it?” Susie said. “It’s good? It’s perfect? Or it’s... just fine?”
I had to find something to say, to show that I’d been listening. “Your first line, Susie. It should be more teasing and playful rather than resentful and defensive.”
“Oh? Oh, all right. I’ll make note of that.” She turned to Matthew. “Guess we’ll have to do it again.”
But before they read their lines one more time, Susie leaned up to kiss Matthew.
This is too much. This is more than I can stand.
While their eyes were locked on one another, and before they could entangle me with more questions and comments about the script, I retreated and finally found refuge in my room.
The walls were closing in on me, and I was smothered in all of it. My growing fondness for Ricky couldn’t erase how I felt for Matthew, even though I could barely understand myself how I truly felt about it. It was all too much to think about.