Tangled Up in Blue

Rough Ride

Blue

She's going to have to live with the consequences.

I can't believe I said that with a straight face. 

Or that it took me a couple of hours to realize how nauseatingly hypocritical it was.

Megz the shoplifter needs to live with the consequences. 

But Blue, who got three good men killed and lied about it, gets off scot-free.

I keep hearing myself say those words. They get beat into my brain along with the sound of the horses' pounding hooves. 

I can't get away from them.

I spur my horse into a gallop to keep up with Keegan.

I'm riding Buick's gelding, Okie. Keegan assured me her brother wouldn't mind; I sure hope that's true.

Buick hasn't been overly friendly to me. He may not want me riding his prized horse.

The rough ride and my sick feeling of shame have turned my stomach. 

If I was alone, I'd probably stop the horse and vomit into the brown grass that covers the gently rolling hills as far as the eye can see.

Get yourself together, for fuck's sake.

I try to focus on how good it feels to be out here, barreling across the prairie, enveloped by a clean, grassy, cow-shit-laced scent that smells like freedom. 

I try not to think about anything else.

After about ten minutes, Keegan slows to a trot and turns east toward the river, following it for a couple of miles until she comes to a spot where the water is shallow.

She urges her horse across, and I follow, squinting into the late morning sun. The temperature has dropped dramatically.

On the other side, we break into a gallop again, racing up a heavily wooded hill. When we reach the ridge, she slows, turning back to smile at me.

"We're going down there."

She points about a hundred yards down, where I see a rocky bluff jutting out beyond the trees.

Way below the bluff, I can see sun-speckled water. 

"Is that the same river we just crossed?"

My words sound heavy, froggy, like I can barely get them out.

"Yep, it sure is," Keegan responds, a proud smile in her voice. 

Her breath is visible in the ice-cold air. 

"The Illinois. It curves back around and runs under the bluff. See that old cabin down there?"

She points at a weathered A-frame that faces the bluff and is just visible through the trees.

"That's where we're going."

I stare down where she pointed, trying to summon a smile.

"You okay?" Keegan is staring at me. "You look a little...off."

I nod, twisting my face to the side so she can't see it until I can blink back the goddamn tears that are threatening to spill down my cheeks.

I don't know what the fuck is happening to me.

"I'm fine," I manage to mutter.

After a moment, I turn to give her a bright, fake smile. 

"Any time I'm with you, baby, I'm always going to be fine."

She grins, thankfully missing the false note I hear in my own voice and turns her mare, Lucy, down a steep, rocky path toward the cabin; my horse follows.

There's a hitching post next to the cabin. We tie up our horses, then climb two log steps to reach the front porch.

"Wow," I say, letting my gaze sweep over the cabin and then to the river and the sweeping prairie beyond. "This is beautiful."

Keegan lifts her face into the weak winter sun and closes her eyes for a moment as a chilly north wind whips her hair around her head.

It feels like the weather is changing.

"My great, great grandfather built this cabin," she says. "Virginia's grandfather. This was the original homestead when they came here in the late 1800s."

"Amazing," I say.

"I wanted you to see it," she goes on as I pull her into my arms. "It's always been one of my favorite places. I used to ride out here and hide when I was upset or pissed or whatever. Or sometimes I'd just come here to think."

"I get that," I assure her.

She sounds so young, like an innocent, idealistic kid, which is exactly what she is. Something I keep forgetting.

I kiss the top of her head and try to tamp down the bile rising from my stomach.

So many times in the weeks since I told Keegan what happened in Afghanistan, I've wished I kept my big mouth shut.

Even though she begged me to tell her; even if it meant that I would lose her. I should not have put that burden on her.

She's been so supportive. And it definitely helped me to get it out. 

Being able to talk to somebody about it felt like a load of bricks was lifted off my shoulders.

But what about what it's done to Keegan? Or might do to her in the future? How on earth could I have been so selfish?

Sometimes when I wake up from another nightmare, or when a memory from that terrible day forces its way into my brain, I see the look on Keegan's face.

I see the fear, the dread, the feeling of helplessness she lives with now. And I feel so fucking guilty.

She tightens her grip and tucks her face into my neck. 

It's a loving, trusting gesture, but I can't help letting out a gasp. 

It feels like there's an elephant sitting on my chest.

Keegan pulls back and studies my face. 

"You okay?" she asks again, frowning. "What's up with you?"

She cups my cheek in her hand, and I almost burst into tears.

So, as usual, I deflect with lust. Playing the horny-ass cave man always helps change the subject.

"What's up is me," I growl, pulling her hard against me and grinding into her body. "What's up is that I want you. Right. Fucking. Now."

Keegan laughs and stands on her tip toes to kiss me.

"Is there a bed inside this cabin, woman?" I ask, still acting like a Neanderthal. "Or should I just take you over to that stand of pine trees?"

"Hmm..." 

She strokes her chin like she's thinking it over, her eyes twinkling.

"Doing it against a pine tree sounds kind of wild and crazy. Kind of exciting."

Thankfully, she seems to have no idea I came close to totally falling apart.

"But maybe we'll save that for when it's a little warmer," she adds with a teasing grin as she pushes open the cabin's creaky wooden door. "Right now, I have a better idea."