He laughed and glanced over at me. “I stand corrected on that score. Cows are so much nicer than rats though, so it’s not a fair comparison, anyway.”
I tilted my head to the side. “Are they though?”
“Wow, not a cow person, I see.”
“And you’re not a city person, I guess.” My voice had taken on a teasing, almost flirtatious tone.
“My trips to Manhattan have always been enjoyable. Couldn’t live there, though. Not when this place exists.”
At that moment, we were passing by a field full of grazing horses. “It really is beautiful. I knew it was pretty, but I never expected it to be…stunning.”
Again, my words felt inadequate for the occasion. This trip, which began out of necessity, was feeling more like a vacation, one that was very much needed in my life.
“I’m glad you can appreciate it,” he said. “Not everyone does. Some don’t like feeling landlocked. Others find Wyoming too quiet and remote from everything else.”
“I definitely don’t mind the peace and quiet right now.”
No more paparazzi stalking me and well-meaning fans stopping me in the street to hug and console me. Being hugged by strangers was way outside of my comfort zone. I only hoped the other guests at the ranch would be discreet and leave me alone. Typically, people at exclusive resorts were there to escape and recharge, not to bother other wealthy people, so I didn’t expect it to be an issue.
“Just curious,” he said, “how did you hear about us?”
“My sister found you. I told her I wanted to go somewhere I wouldn’t be bothered for a while, and she did a little research and found Silver Sage.”
“Have you ever been out west before?” he asked.
“No, but I used to ride horses as a kid, and I think that was on her mind when she made the reservation.”
“Is that right?” He was driving with one hand, looking like he could navigate these roads blindfolded. Traffic certainly wasn’t an issue.
“It’s been a very long time since I’ve ridden.” I didn’t want to make myself sound like some kind of expert. “As a preteen girl, I was obsessed with horses. Quite a cliche, I guess. I read all the horse books in my school library and watchedBlack Beautyabout ten times,and then I begged my parents for riding lessons. They let me do it for a couple of years until it got too expensive.” The riding lessons had to stop when my father was laid off from his job, but Mr. Hart didn’t need to hear that aspect of the story.
“My daughter is obsessed with horses too,” he said. “We’ll get you back in the saddle again. There are beautiful trails at the ranch. You’ll love it.”
Back in the saddle again. I needed that in more ways than one. I separated from Freddy three years earlier, but we hadn’t been intimate in much longer than that. Honestly, I hadn’t even had a strong desire to be with a man, and I started to think my peri-menopausal body was closed for business. It was my gynecologist who convinced me to take measures to keep everything healthy and in working order down there by using the proper medications and supplements.
“You never know,” she’d said. “At some point, you might want to become sexually active again. You’re still a young woman, and you want to have all your options, just in case.”
Her words had made me laugh inwardly at the time because I definitely didn’t feel like a young woman, and my options were, due to my own choices, quite limited. You can’t publicly date when you’re in a sham marriage, not unless you’re Freddy cavorting freely around small European beach towns. Even if I were single, finding someone appropriate to love after fifty wasn’t a simple task, which was why so many older people hired matchmakers in the first place.
Now here I was, driving through rural Wyoming with a handsome stranger and thinking about my vaginal health. I guess celibacy wasn’t feeling as appealing anymore. Not that I was going to do anything about it on this trip, but experiencing sexual attraction to a man was a good start. I peeked at Matthew, and a powerful urge to put my hand on his muscular thigh seized me. Where the heck did that come from?
I clenched my hands together on my lap just in case they got any funny ideas. Obviously, I would never fondle the leg of a man I’d just met, but the fact that I’d even thought about it was scary and exhilarating. As we rolled along a stretch of lonesome highway, I became intoxicated by the Suburban’s manly smell of sweat and leather. We were sitting together on a bench style front seat. Did Matthew’s lady sit in the middle, her leg pressed up against his, the two of them all cozy and snuggled up? Could people have sex right here in the?—
“You doing okay?”
His words broke me from my reverie. If I was lucky, he wouldn’t notice the flush on my throat and cheeks.
“A little warm. Is it okay if I crack the window for a minute?” I asked.
“Sure.”
Clearly, I needed to make conversation to keep my mind from wandering. “How long have you owned Silver Sage?”
“My parents bought it in the eighties,” he said, “and almost two years ago I took over as manager. My sister and brothers followed other paths in life, but I wanted to keep the ranch in the family.”
I took a swig from my water bottle. Maybe all of my fantasizing resulted from dehydration. “Do they live in Wyoming?”
“Only Sam, my youngest brother, still lives out here. He’s our local veterinarian. Faith, my sister, lives in Texas, and my brother Bowie lives in Alaska.” He turned the truck onto another long stretch of road that looked exactly like the one we’d been on.
