Chapter 40 Western Wisdom
The clear stream, their constant companion, gurgled beside them. As their horses drew near, Alexandra glimpsed fleeting shadows of trout, quick silver darts in the shallow currents. Along the banks, thick willows, resilient in their verdant state, held hints of the impending change, promise of soft, white blooms Evelyn had described for spring. Time, Evelyn had reminded her, was precious now. Only a few more weeks remained to climb these mountains before winter’s snowy embrace.
Alexandra drew a deep breath, filling her lungs with the crisp, earthy scent of autumn. Conversation felt superfluous. Both women rode in companionable silence, absorbed by the panoramic canvas unfolding around them, their gazes sweeping from one marvel to the next. In the distance, a long, benevolent slope ascended towards the timberline, its upper reaches already dusted with nascent snow. Below, the mountain face was an artist's palette, a mosaic of greens, sun-kissed golds, fiery reds, and burnished oranges, hues so complex and natural they defied any synthetic replication.
The mention of color shifts pulled Alexandra’s mind to another landscape: the undulating green slopes surrounding Evan’s ranch. A pang of curiosity struck her—what was he doing now? She remembered him explaining how the cattle were moved to lower valleys in autumn, and how he spent winters at the small ranch house nestled in the valley, the very spot where they’d shared that enchanted picnic. A vivid image of a spread blanket beneath a grand cottonwood, sunlight dappling through its leaves, flashed in her mind. It was a memory etched deeply, one she knew she'd never truly forget. The edges of tears pricked her eyes, but she firmly blinked them away. Her decision was made; she had to live with it, whatever the cost.
“We’re going to cut off up this draw to the right,” Evelyn’s voice, calm and steady, broke through Alexandra’s reverie. “It leads to the prettiest little park you’ve ever seen, with a sweeping view across the Sierra Nevada Mountains and the Truckee River Valley.”
Alexandra’s spirits lifted. “I can hardly wait. Every vista seems to outdo the last.”
“It’s a far cry from Pittsburgh, that’s for sure,” Evelyn mused, a hint of a smile in her voice. “What brought you out to this corner of the world?”
Alexandra hesitated, weighing her words. “I was engaged to a man in Glendale.” The full truth felt too raw, yet evading the question seemed equally disingenuous.
Evelyn’s reply was direct, devoid of judgment. “I’m guessing that didn’t quite work out, or you wouldn’t be here.”
“No, it didn’t,” Alexandra affirmed, bracing for the inevitable follow-up. But none came. Evelyn simply nodded, turning her attention back to the trail. Alexandra considered this an unspoken etiquette she’d observed among Westerners – a respectful distance, an absence of prying. It was a subtle courtesy, perhaps unnoticed by many, but to Alexandra, in her current vulnerable state, it felt like an unexpected gift, a profound respect for personal space she hadn't encountered before.
They steered their horses into the draw, the path narrowing as they ascended towards the promised ‘park.’ Alexandra remembered her initial confusion when Evan had first used the term; her urban mind conjured manicured lawns and playground equipment. Now, she understood. A Western 'park' was a natural clearing, an untamed meadow, infinitely more breathtaking than anything a city could offer. Here, wildflowers dotted the luxuriant grass like scattered jewels, and clusters of 'quakies' – quaking aspens – offered dappled shade, their leaves already shimmering gold. The grass beneath them was thick and soft, an irresistible invitation to recline and let the hours drift by, free from the world's demands.
Finding an idyllic clearing within a grove of aspens, they dismounted, the soft rustle of golden leaves overhead a gentle lullaby. Before them, the Sierra Nevada Mountains unfurled in their profound grandeur, a majestic tapestry woven with the rich, autumnal hues—deep purples, charcoal blacks, shifting greys, and soft violets—all sharply defined against an impossibly clear, sapphire sky. Far below, the Truckee River traced a silver ribbon through the valley, winding past ranches that remained surprisingly green, their fields now quiet after the hay harvest. Evelyn remarked that only one view surpassed this: the meadows when dotted with cattle, a living mosaic of colors after the herds were brought down.
Alexandra was utterly captivated, lost in the sprawling masterpiece. She’d never imagined such breathtaking beauty existed. Her gaze swept across the landscape, identifying the dry, yucca and cactus-strewn desert transitioning into the river valley’s verdant expanse, then up the mountain slopes, where the hardy junipers and cedars slowly gave way to towering pines, spruces, and the shimmering aspens. Evan’s lessons on tree species resurfaced, and a soft, melancholic smile touched her lips as she recalled their shared, quiet moments.
Over a light lunch, they exchanged casual stories, each question and answer weaving a thread of connection. Soon, the conversation quieted, giving way to the rich symphony of sights, sounds, and scents that enveloped them. Alexandra felt a burgeoning fondness for Evelyn, who she guessed to be a decade or more her senior. Evelyn exuded an effortless confidence, a comfortable self-assurance that was deeply appealing. Alexandra found herself admiring her, seeing in Evelyn a person she aspired to be: free, easy-spirited, and refreshingly honest in her thoughts and feelings. Evelyn’s earlier question about Glendale returned to her. She considered confiding in her. Evelyn wasn't the type to 'blab it all over everywhere,' like some of her 'friends' back in Pittsburgh. Perhaps, Alexandra mused, a little trust wouldn't hurt.
Breaking the comfortable silence, Alexandra spoke, her voice lower than usual. “I walked into our apartment and saw him with another woman.”
Evelyn offered a soft, understanding, “Mhmm.”
“I suppose I should have seen it coming, but I was so stupid, so blind,” Alexandra continued, her gaze fixed somewhere beyond the mountains. She paused, half-expecting Evelyn to chime in, but the older woman remained quietly attentive. “Anyway, I walked in, and she was… on top of him. She looked right at me. I even knew her—from his office. I don’t know why I was so incredibly foolish. I guess I thought I was enough, but clearly, I wasn’t.”
“You don’t need to load that kind of shit on yourself, Alexandra,” Evelyn interjected, her tone unexpectedly sharp, cutting through Alexandra’s self-recrimination.
“What?” Alexandra was startled by the sudden force in Evelyn’s voice.
“He had his own problems, not yours,” Evelyn clarified, her eyes steady. “You can’t saddle yourself with that kind of burden and carry it around. Get rid of that idea right now. A decent man would have ended things before moving on. He was just hoping to have his cake and eat it too.”