Cowboy Affairs: Saddled (Audio Script)

Stories

I can still see some tiny specks of hay in her hair. It’s been twenty minutes, and the image of her in that barn stall with Owen is burned into the back of my eyelids.

He’s twenty years younger than me, a reckless rodeo punk, and I shouldn’t give a damn who she decides to throw herself at. But as I pull the leather strap tight on my mare’s saddle, my knuckles turn white.

I’m furious. And the worst part is… somehow I’m jealous, too. I’m not even sure when I started noticing her like this, much less caring who she was noticing.

I’ve spent years keeping people out of my space, content in this kind of isolation. And then this California city girl rolls into this valley with a fire that refuses to be put out, and suddenly my quiet, peaceful world feels upended… watching her over these last few weeks has forced me to think differently about city girls.

There hasn’t been a single challenge she’s backed down from, and damn if I haven’t taken a shine to the woman.

“Hey, Jensen.

We need to talk about what you saw.”

“Unless you’re here to tell me you figured out how to use a pitchfork without turning it into a mating ritual, I don’t want to hear it. The ranch doesn’t stop running because some city girl wants to dissect her love life. I’ve got a horse to saddle and some fences to repair.”

“Oh, wonderful. We’re going with the defensive, brooding hermit energy today?

Very sophisticated.”

“Look, it wasn’t a big deal, and I’m not apologizing for it. This was… a natural thing, okay? But you watching us and then stomping around the ranch throwing silent tantrums and scolding everyone is probably the more problematic behavior here.”

“I don’t have time for that bullshit.”

“If you’re too busy to sit and listen, then let me help, ‘cause I’m not done talking yet.

Where are you heading?”

I can see her standing up straighter and jutting out her chin as she crosses her arms over her chest like a defiant child and nods toward my Quarter Horse mare.

“I’m riding out to the high mountain meadows. A few yards of fences on the west ridge are down, and they need repairing before the cattle notice that too.”

“Good, I’m coming with you. Consider it my next lesson. I wanted to learn how to fix fences anyway.”

“You? On the west ridge trail? Daisy, you’ll be crying for your heated blanket before we even hit the timberline. That's brutal terrain, and it’s grueling, miserable work. You and your complaints are staying right here.”

“The only thing I’m complaining about is your attitude, Jensen. I can handle a mountain trail. You’ll see.”

She just digs her heels right in. Most people back away when I use this tone, but she just stares me down like she’s completely immune to my bullshit. It drives me crazy how much I want to break that stubborn pride of hers.

“Listen, Mae. The west ridge is on the complete opposite side of the property. It’s probably too far to make it back by nightfall. And if we have to camp in the middle of nowhere without running water, electricity, and in coyote territory, I don’t want to hear a single complaint. Not even a grumble. You sure you want to risk that?”

Two hours later, I had to force myself not to turn around and take her back to the ranch. But I haven’t given her an inch. I’ve kept my eyes locked straight ahead, pretending the only thing on my mind is the broken fenceline. But the truth is, every time her horse falls a few paces behind, I can hear the shift in her saddle.

I can picture exactly how she looks back there … okay, maybe I took a look here and there…

Her hair catching the mountain wind, her cheeks flushed from the climb and her hips in these low jeans rocking back and forth in the saddle.

A saddle that I made…

It’s driving me insane. I’m trying to nurse my anger, trying to stay detached, but somehow she just won’t let me lock that door.

“Get a move on, Daisy! At the pace you’re moving, the winter snows are gonna hit before we even reach the first fence line!”

“Yeah, I’m coming! Some of us didn’t spend our entire lives glued to the saddle.”

I’m being an absolute bastard to her, and I know it. Every time I look back and see her hips moving with the rhythm of that saddle, my blood boils. I keep picturing those same hips moving over Owen in the straw, and it makes me want to rip something apart. I’m taking my frustration out on her trail speed, but she just takes every sharp word I throw her way, laughs it off, and fires a witty comeback right back at me. She has this sunny, unyielding outlook on things, and it’s infuriating how much I need to remind myself not to enjoy this.

“Jensen, wait.”

VO2s horse gets faster and comes nearer again

“Unless you’re trying to leave me to the wolves, we still need to finish that conversation about… Owen.”

“There’s no conversation to have, Daisy. I told you, I don’t give a damn. You’re a grown woman, you can roll around in the straw with whoever you please. It’s none of my business what you get up to with anyone… much less what you get up to with boys who pretend to be men like Owen. So, no, Daisy, I don’t care, and it certainly isn’t interesting to me. Now drop it.”

“If it wasn’t interesting to you, why did you keep watching?”

“Move your horse Daisy Mae, we’re losing daylight.”

We follow along the trail over another high ridge, just past the tree line, until the dense pine trees gradually give way. A warm, soft wind is caressing the high willow grass, creating wave-like patterns in it.

VO2s horse gets slower and stops

“Oh… my god, Jensen. Look at this.”

I stop my horse and look back at her. We’ve just hit the crest of the high meadow. The entire valley opens up below us, a massive, endless sea of wide grassland and dark green pines, framed by the jagged, snow-capped peaks of the Bighorn Mountains piercing a brilliant blue sky. It’s a view I’ve seen a thousand times, but watching it reflect in her eyes, almost as if it’s reaching her soul, feels like seeing it for the first time again.

“This is… beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like this.”

I let my gaze wander over the peaks in the distance, before my eyes find her again. Her face is glowing under the high mountain sun, and loose strands of hair from her loosely braided ponytail flutter in the wind around her freckled nose. For a fraction of a second, the jealousy and the attempt not to like her inside me just … evaporate.

My chest tightens, not with impatience, but with something so raw it scares the hell out of me. She looks beautiful. Like she belongs up here. Like she belongs right next to me…

But I can’t think like that.

“Yeah. It, uh… it has its moments.”

“Alright, enough sightseeing.”

“Let’s get a move on before we start growing roots here. I want to see if you can really work the way you say you can.”

“Okay, while you set up the first tent, can I start with the second one?”

“The second one?”

“Wait a minute… is that the only tent you brought?”

She stands before me in the twilight, looking on in disbelief, and points to the canvas tent I’m in the process of setting up.

“Yes, it is. With all the fencing tools, there’s only one tent that fits properly on the pack saddle. Space is premium up here, Daisy.”

“Uhm…”

But… you knew I was coming, I told you…

What exactly was your plan here? Hoping the big scary terrain would force me to cozy up next to you?”

I freeze. A sharp jolt of heat hits my chest. Cozy up?

God dammit, if she only knew what the thought of being trapped in a small space with her is doing to my sanity…

“Don’t flatter yourself, city girl. I have absolutely no intention of sharing a tent with you. I like my peace and quiet too much.”

Sound Design note: First 2 questions from VO2 are asked independently, but the rest continue on almost in the background during VO1 monologue

“Oh, so what? I’m supposed to just sleep on the dirt because you don’t know how to pack for two? Or maybe you didn’t think I’d hack it-

that I’d get lost along the way or turn back? Maybe you didn’t think we’d make it at all, or you expected I’d just give you anything you wanted if you dragged me all the way out here? Am I supposed to think you didn’t think of any of this? Or what, Jensen? Which is it?”

Look at her. Standing her ground in the middle of the wilderness, completely unfazed by my biting tone. There’s a stubbornness in her that drives me mad, but there’s something else there, too…

A quiet warmth that makes this mountain feel a whole lot less empty than it did all the times I went up here alone. As the firelight catches the gold in her hair, I turn away before I let myself stare too long.

“Will you stop your bickering for five seconds?”

“The tent is yours, okay? You take it. I’m sleeping out here by the fire. My mama raised a gentleman, no matter how much of a bastard you think I am. Now go and throw your gear inside before I change my mind.”

“Oh…

Well… thank your mama for me then.”

I walk over to the fire I started earlier and toss another log into the flames before flopping down on my old blanket on the hard-packed ground.

It’s gotten chilly tonight.

“Can I sit here?”

“Sure.”

“You know… for someone who acts like he hates the world, you take incredibly good care of this place. And your manners aren’t completely terrible.”

“Well, this is home for me… for most of us here at Oak Creek, and we take care of our own.”

“You’ve been here a long time, then. And Owen? Things seem… tense… between you two. What’s the story there? ”

“I came to Oak Creek as a seasonal worker way back when and just… never left. And Owen…

He’s a good kid, very talented, just reckless. His old man walked out when he was a boy, and when his mom died young, he became an orphan, then a troublemaker. I found him trying to steal a saddle I made at the farmers' market out of desperation. And instead of calling the sheriff, I put a tool in his hand and told him if he wanted something, he’d have to sweat for it.”

“I became his mentor when the big boss decided he’d stay in the bunkhouse with us.

I’ve spent my whole life in this dirt, Daisy. It’s a lonely life, but it’s honest.”

I can feel her gaze on me, and as I return the look, I can see the flickering of the flames reflected in the light on her face as her mouth curves into a gentle smile.

“It doesn't sound lonely to me… and it sounds like you have a beautiful, deep soul, Jensen.

Even if you hide it behind a grumpy face.”

I keep my eyes glued to dancing flames in her eyes, my chest suddenly tight. Not many people look past the calluses and the bad temper to see if there’s anything else underneath. It’s been a very long time since anyone bothered to really see me. Hearing it come from her, soft and completely honest, cracks a piece of the armor I’ve spent a decade building.

And the scariest part is… I don't think I want to fix it.

“Hmm, okay, Daisy Mae, maybe it’s time for bed before we get all mushy and sentimental out here, hm?”

“You’re so predictable.

But fine, bet you’re waking me up before the sun does tomorrow.”

It takes me a second to get my bearings as I wake with a start to a full-blown mountain thunderstorm.

I’m soaked through and freezing, as rain pours down on me.

It’s still dark outside, middle of the night… The storm must have come in quickly, and my sleeping bag didn’t do much to protect me. All my clothes and hair are completely soaked.

“Shit!”

As I hurriedly gather up my soaking-wet gear, I hear the tent zipper opening behind me.

“Jensen, you okay?”

“Goddamit, the weather report was wrong.”

“Come in here, get out of the meadow… even I know how fast things change when it rains like this.”

She’s right. One wrong step on these high meadows in weather like this is all it takes for things to go wrong. Luckily, we’re camping right at the tree line, and the tent is set back a bit, hidden among the cover of dense pine trees.

“Make some room, I need to put my wet stuff down somewhere.”

“Holy shit…”

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Just … wet.”

Soaking wet, in just my t-shirt and boxers, I’m hunched over in the small tent. Daisy has moved all the way to one side to make some room for me, snuggled up in a thick blanket. Apparently, she’s cold, too.

“You need to get out of your wet clothes. You’re going to catch a cold.”

“Seriously, Jensen. It’s freezing, and you’re already shivering. I’ll … look away while you change.”

“I didn’t pack a set of spare clothes, Daisy. I thought we’d be home by tomorrow morning. I don’t have anything to change into.”

“Oh…

Well, I don’t mind. You’re not staying in these freezing clothes!”

Even though I hate to admit it, she’s right. If I don’t want to spend the whole night shivering on the tent floor, I have to get out of my wet clothes. So I take a deep, frustrated breath, grab the hem of my T-shirt, which is clinging to me like a second skin, and pull it over my head.

Without turning to face her, I can feel her gaze on my back.

Gotcha, liar.

“Thought you’d turn around.”

“Oh! ...Sorry.”

“Doesn’t bother me.”

I slip out of my boxers and reach for my sleeping bag to lie down next to Daisy, when I realize that it, too, is completely soaked.

“Ah, for fucks sake…”

“What?”

“Everything’s soaked through. Sleeping bag, blankets, everything.”

Compassionately, she turns back to me, blinking cautiously, as if she wants to check whether I’m really naked. I’m still holding my sleeping bag in my hands, so she can’t see anything, and her gaze darts up to my eyes. She bites her lower lip briefly, and I can practically see the gears turning in her head until, after a few seconds, she lifts her blanket and unzips her sleeping bag without saying a word.

She’s sitting there, sheepishly looking up to me with just a loose tank top and panties on. Her chest are peaking through the fabric as goosebumps run down her skin.

For a moment, I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

What other choice do I have?

“Move over, let me sleep on the tent wall so you won't be so cold.”

The moment my bare skin brushes hers, my whole body tenses. She is pure, radiant heat. Her scent, which has spread throughout this suffocatingly small tent, is even more intense here.