Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Maybe asking for Mac’s help wouldn’t be so simple, after all, Tess thought as she headed for the trail leading to the river.
Here she was blushing over some off-hand remark he’d made about mounting up.
Or maybe she’d spent too much time reading those books, and every conversation had sexual overtones now.
She certainly couldn’t go to New York keyed up like this.
It would be good to get this whole business over with.
Ducking an occasional overhanging mesquite branch, she rode at a trot ahead of him on the dusty trail.
He knew something was up. She never could keep anything from him, so she might as well lay out her plan as soon as they got to their favorite spot by the river.
As kids they’d used the sandy bank for fierce battles between their Star Wars action figures, and when they were older, they’d come out here to drink colas and talk about whatever was going on in their lives.
Tess had never shared the hideaway with anyone else, and neither had Mac, as far as she knew.
The riverbank was where they’d gone after Chewbacca died.
They’d talked about heaven, and had decided horses had to be there or they weren’t interested in going.
They’d headed out here after Mac broke his arm and couldn’t try out for Little League, and the day Tess had won a teddy bear at the school carnival.
Before either of them knew anything about sex, they’d spent time by the river talking about whether men and women made babies the same way horses and dogs and goats did.
Later on, Mac had put a stop to their discussions on that topic. Now Tess wanted to reopen the discussion, but she wasn’t sure if she had the courage.
“So what’s your summer project this year?” Mac called up to her. “I know you always have one.”
A perfect opening, but she didn’t want to blurt it out while they were riding. “I’m still thinking about it.” She drew confidence from the familiar rhythm of the little mare, the friendly squeak of saddle leather and the comfort of breathing in the dry, sweet air of early morning
“Really? Hell, you usually have something planned by April. I’ll never forget that summer you got hooked on Australia — you playing that god-awful didgeridoo while you made me cook shrimp on the barbie.”
“How did I know it would spook the horses?”
Mac laughed. “The sound of that thing would spook a corpse. Do you ever play it anymore, or are you taking pity on your neighbors?”
“Watch yourself, or I’ll be forced to remind you of the time you mooned my brothers.”
“That was totally not my fault. You could have told me the bridge club was coming out to admire your mom’s roses.”
Tess started to giggle. “So help me, I tried.”
“Sure you did.”
“The boys stopped me! I felt terrible that it happened.”
“Uh-huh. That’s why you busted a gut laughing and why you bring it up on a regular basis.”
“Only in self-defense.” She barely had to guide Peppermint Patty down the trail after all the times the horse had taken her to the river. The horses flushed a covey of quail as they trotted past.
She could smell the river ahead of them, and obviously so could Peppermint Patty. The mare picked up the pace. As always, Tess looked forward to her first glimpse of the miniature beach surrounded almost entirely by tall reeds. The perfect hideout.
As the mare reached the embankment and started down toward the sand, her hooves skidded a little on the loose dirt, but she maintained her balance, having years of experience on this particular slope.
In front of them the river gurgled along, about fifty feet wide at this point.
Other than a few ducks diving for breakfast and a mockingbird trilling away on a cottonwood branch across the river, the area was deserted.
There was no danger that anyone would overhear their discussion, and she trusted Mac to listen seriously without laughing as she laid out her problem and asked for his help.
She couldn’t have a better person in whom to place her confidence.
Yet no matter how many times she told herself those things, her stomach clenched with nervousness.