House of the Blue Sea (21 page)

They both requested iced tea and waited in awkward silence until Alejandro returned. When he did, he stood beside the table holding the two tumblers of blue Mexican glass, each with a lemon slice on the rim. His eyes went from Sandra to Mark. “Everything is fine here?”

“Yes, fine,” said Sandra. She pulled the napkin from the plate and placed it on her lap.

Okay, so perhaps Paul had been right, showing up here was not a good idea. When lunch was over he’d be on his way and leave Sandra and her cowboy to whatever it was they had going on. He thought back to her lesson and how Alejandro had placed his hand on her knee when he went over to speak to her, his other hand stroking the neck of the horse. It seemed an intimate gesture from where Mark stood.

“So, Señor Jeffery ...” Alejandro started.

“Call me Mark.” He spooned the meat mixture into a tortilla, added what looked like a coleslaw from another bowl, and folded it in half.

“Sí ... Mark. How is it you know the lovely Sandra?” Alejandro took a bite of his taco and fixed his gaze on Mark.

“She is staying at Mar Azul, which is owned by a friend of mine.”

“Ah, Paul is a friend of yours! I have not had opportunity to meet him but Sandra speaks very well of your friend.”

“Yes, he’s a good fellow. We’ve known each other since we were lads.”

Sandra was quietly eating her lunch and sipping on her iced tea, her eyes travelling back and forth between the two men as they spoke.

“And what brings you to Rancho Azteca? You wish to ride?” Alejandro asked.

“No, no riding. I came to see how Sandra was getting along.” As the words left his mouth, Mark realized that checking up on a woman he hardly knew was not a good reason to show up unannounced. “And I ... needed to ... run an errand ... in Cabo ... and so, here I am.” He flashed a look at Sandra and took a large bite of his taco, chewing rapidly. “Mm, very good,” he said, mouth full. It was a fair question; just what was he doing here at Rancho Azteca?

“Cabo?” Alejandro laughed. “I am not exactly on the way, unless you were planning to drive that expensive car around the cape, and I would not recommend it. Horse would be a better way to travel that road. Perhaps you would like to join us this afternoon. We are going down to the beach with the horses and it is not so hot today,” Alejandro said.

“I’m not much of a rider, at least not without a stunt double.” Mark glanced at Sandra to see if he’d made her smile. He hadn’t. He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat.

Alejandro squinted at Mark. “A stunt double? I don’t understand.”

“Mark is an actor, so his riding in movies is no doubt done by someone else, someone who can ride well.” She looked at Mark, her eyes hard. “Is that about right?”

“Well, yes, but I do ride ... some.”

“Well, join us then.” Alejandro was smiling with all those teeth again—
glint
. “It is an easy half hour down to the beach.”

“Followed by a gallop on the sand,” Sandra cut in.

“
But
—I have a nice older mare who will go at whatever speed you like. Her name is Tranquilo, at least that is what she has been called for many years. She could use the exercise to prepare for her next clinic.”

“I don’t want to intrude.” Mark glanced at Sandra, who gave nothing away with her expression.

Alejandro jumped in. “Not at all. Everyone who comes to Azteca must ride one of my horses.
Es obligatorio
! More tea?”

***

T
hey rode along the well-worn trail three in a line with Alejandro leading on his striking black stallion. He and the horse were well matched: the shiny black hair, the dark eyes, the male energy that seemed to pour off of them. Mark wondered if Caliente had the same dazzling smile when he opened his big horsey lips.

The trail wound its way through the many cactus, ocotillo and acacia that filled this part of the Baja landscape. Alejandro turned in his saddle and gestured to a large cactus as he rode past it. “Do you know the cardón can grow to seventy feet high and weigh more than twenty-five tons? Its name comes from the Spanish word for thistle. It is said when Hernando Cortes came to establish a settlement in Baja, he named it ''Isla de Cardón'' for all of the spiky plants and because, at the time, they believed the peninsula was actually an island.”

“So these are not saguaro?” Mark called from the back of the line of horses.

“No, although they are close cousins. The saguaro do not grow this far south on the peninsula; believe it or not, there is too much moisture.” Alejandro faced forward again.

From his position behind her, Mark watched as Sandra’s shoulders rose and fell, one and then the other, with the movement of Tormenta’s walk. Her hair was pulled into a bundle of curls that stuck out from beneath her brown riding helmet and she wore a denim shirt that bunched up at the cantle of the saddle and hung over legs dressed in light blue Wranglers. They’d not spoken since lunch. His uncertainty about her feelings and about her relationship with Alejandro had stopped his words every time he started to explain his presence at Rancho Azteca. And now here he was on a horse. Every wretched period drama he’d been cast in seemed to involve at least one horseback scene, so he had learned to ride out of necessity, but he’d never felt comfortable astride. If all of those swooning, horse-loving females had seen some of the riding scene out-takes they surely would have been far less enamoured with the equestrian prowess of Mr. Rochester. At least he was in a western saddle today so there was something to grab hold of if the need arose.

The trail wound between two hills and then the sea was before them, blue and sparkling in the midday sun. Down one more low hill, across a road, and they were on the beach.
Right, splendid, the gallop part Sandra mentioned.
Western saddle or not, he didn’t think he was up for a beach run, or the embarrassment and potential injury that would come if he landed head first in the sand.

Alejandro stopped and turned, waving them over so he could be heard over the sound of the surf. “The waves are quite large today so we will ride higher on the beach, but stay on the hard sand to make it easier for the horses. Tranquilo is getting a little long in the tooth.”

“I know the feeling,” Mark responded. “She and I are happy to bring up the rear.”

Alejandro patted Caliente’s shoulder. “And this boy was a bit sore last week so I will also take it easy. You go on ahead Sandra, I will ride back here with Mark. Tormenta is never reluctant to leave her friends for a bit of fun.”

They continued to the water’s edge and turned left, away from the houses that could be seen in the other direction. The horses expectantly broke into a slow trot, ears forward, energy up. “Take a bit more rein and sit deep in your saddle. She will stay in a nice jog once you get her there,” Alejandro said to Mark. As Mark brought the rein toward his abdomen he felt the horse’s back rise beneath him, her neck arched, and she slowed into a smooth, easy, two-beat gait.

“Bueno
!” Alejandro was smiling, matching Mark’s speed on his own horse. “Caliente is not quite so keen to go at a slow pace but it is good exercise for him. We all need to learn to keep ourselves in check from time to time.”

Tormenta was trotting fast, putting distance between her and her companions. Sandra raised her arm in the air and called, “See you at the end of the beach!” With that she pushed Tormenta up into a canter. She sat easily in the saddle, her body moving with the rhythm of the mare, Tormenta’s dark grey mane blowing in the wind. When she was a hundred yards down the beach, Sandra rose from her seat, leaned forward and found another gear. Divets of wet sand flew from the mare’s hooves as she galloped away.

Alejandro said something in Spanish that Mark couldn’t quite make out.

“Sorry?” Mark asked.

Alejandro turned to him and said in English with more volume, “She is quite a woman.”

“Right. Yes. She certainly is.” Mark’s eyes went back to Sandra. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who’d noticed.

Tormenta was drifting right, into the breakers, the water spraying up around her as she continued to gallop. Some of the waves were just foam running up the beach, others a foot or more of water, and the horse’s gait became more animated whenever the water went as high as her knees.

“Should she be out in the waves?” Mark asked as they jogged along.

“Well, as long as they stay that size she is fine. Tormenta has done this many times before. But ... that one,” Alejandro pointed out further into the sea, “could be a problem.”

Mark followed Alejandro’s gaze and saw a large wave, at least a foot taller than the others, rolling toward the beach. When it reached Tormenta, the mare’s legs were washed from under her and both horse and rider disappeared into the surf. Alejandro’s black stallion responded instantly to his cues and they were galloping away from Mark toward the spot where Sandra had gone down. Tranquilo continued to jog along, not fussed by the urgency of her companion. “Damn it,” Mark said to himself as he squeezed the horse’s sides to ask her for more speed. “All right girl, help me out here. We can’t hang back and let Don Juan do all the rescuing.” Tranquilo broke into a rolling canter that Mark found surprisingly easy to sit. No wonder it was required that everyone ride one of Alejandro’s horses when they came to the ranch.

Sandra was standing now, holding Tormenta’s reins, wiping her face with the other hand. And then Alejandro was there, sliding to a stop and vaulting off his horse.
For Christ’s sake, it’s like a scene out of a Hollywood romance.
As Mark and Tranquilo cantered toward the others, he could hear Sandra`s voice and her laughter. At least she wasn`t hurt.

Mark spoke as he rode up. “You do realize that not every activity has to involve a plunge in the sea?”

Sandra smiled at him for the first time since he’d arrived. “Yes, smart-ass, I do.”

Both woman and horse were soaked, and he couldn’t help but notice how Sandra’s clothes clung to her body.

“You didn’t happen to bring that spare shirt with you, did you?” Sandra asked. 

“No, I’m afraid not, but I’d be happy to give you this one,” he said, completely serious.

“I’m kidding. I’m fine. It’s the sand more than the wet.” She shook one arm and then the other, followed by each leg. “My clothes are filled with it.”

They had moved up out of the water and Alejandro was inspecting the mare, running his hands down each of her legs. “She seems fine,” he said. “I will take her for a little jog to make sure.” Alejandro passed Caliente’s reins to Sandra and trotted off down the beach with Tormenta.

“As you see, he’s more concerned about the horse than the rider.” Sandra chuckled.

“Does that bother you?” Mark asked.

“No, of course not. He can see that I’m fine, and his horses are his most prized possessions; well, unless you count wife and children as possessions.”

Mark looked to where Alejandro was trotting with Tormenta. “So, he’s married?”

Sandra was still shaking her legs, trying to get the sand to fall out of her jeans. “
Very
. Martina is in Cabo, visiting her sister.”

“Why do you say
very
?”

“They’re just one of those couples that’s more like one person than two. Know what I mean?”

Mark found himself wishing he did.

***

T
he return ride was quiet, each rider caught up in his or her own thoughts. Mark brought up the rear again, Tranquilo content to walk more slowly than the others. Every now and then she would break into a jog to bridge the gap. Mark reached forward and ran his hand over the hair on the mare’s neck. It was smooth and warm on the surface with the muscles tight underneath, the black mane sliding forward and back on its red-brown backdrop. He’d never ridden a horse just for pleasure; there had always been a purpose, a goal—and horses could be the most difficult creatures when you were working on a schedule.

Sandra and Tormenta were ahead of him on the trail. She was still soaking wet, her bright orange t-shirt showing through the light denim of her outer layer. He couldn’t imagine riding a horse in wet, sandy jeans, but she didn’t seem to mind, remaining cheerful and amused since her dive into the sea. Finding out that Alejandro was married had given Mark some relief, but he still wasn’t sure if Sandra wanted him here. The frostiness that met him when he first arrived seemed to have melted some, but she continued to be distant, like she’d placed some kind of invisible shield between them. It had been that way since they’d met, at least off and on, but now the barrier seemed more intentional.

They reached the dirt road that would take them the final mile to the ranch and Alejandro fell back beside Sandra. “Mark!” he called. “Come and ride with us, amigo.” Mark tapped Tranquilo’s sides with his heels and she moved up into a jog. He caught up to the others and slipped into the space next to Alejandro.

“You are enjoying my precious girl?” Alejandro asked Mark, looking at the bay mare.

“She’s lovely. I was just thinking how I’d never had the pleasure of this kind of ride before. And, truly, if all of my movie horses had been as easy as this one, I wouldn’t have needed the stunt doubles so often.” He glanced at Sandra. Her lips pressed together with the corners turned up slightly.

“Ah yes, she is a favourite of my more novice students. Often they will request her when they register for a clinic. If only I had half a dozen exactly like her.”

“I rode her the first year I came,” Sandra said, “and then I met Tormenta.” She patted the mare’s shoulder.

“Sandra prefers a less predictable ride,” Alejandro said.

“Like an unplanned swim, you mean?” Sandra chuckled. “She brought that on herself you know. I didn’t ask her to move out into the waves.”

“I am certain you didn’t. She has a little of the devil in her, from her sire.” Alejandro looked to Mark. “My other stallion can be troublesome, always full of mischief. Even at twenty-two he is a handful.”

“But incredibly gorgeous,” Sandra said.

“Yes, that as well. If only he didn’t know it.”