Chapter One
"Mr. Bloom"
Love Rides Blind
Love rides blind
* * *
Chapter One: Mr. Bloom
Erin checked her watch and sighed heavily. She busied herself with brushing the horse over for a third time, thoroughly getting rid of every bit of dust and loose hair. But as she worked she kept checking her watch, cursing quietly under her breath. She often wondered why she had wanted a job like this. After all, dealing with people wasn't one of her strong points, and she had to do it all the time.
She stopped brushing, shaking out her arm, which had begun to tire after grooming five horses in a row. She straightened, grimacing at the soreness in her back, and looked out the barn doors to where her next student would supposedly be coming from. She glanced to her watch again. Half an hour late... and counting. Her eyes rose to the mountains in the distance and despite her frustration she found herself smiling. New Zealand was a damn fine place to work though, she had to admit. And when she was done teaching others, she could sneak out and have a ride herself. The scenery even around the studio was gorgeous, and Erin promised herself she would take none of it for granted during her time here.
She put away the brushes and mane combs and hoof picks and went back to the horse she had been last grooming. She patted his neck and sighed again. "Well, Bud," she told him, "I'll give him five more minutes before I go turn him in as a no-show."
"Sorry I'm late," came a voice suddenly.
Erin started and whirled to face the open end of the stables. Her student walked down the center aisle casually, not really looking sorry at all, and took off his sunglasses. Erin immediately found herself evaluating him. He was tall and scrawny, and wore a long-sleeved, fitted plaid shirt and with dark jeans and sneakers. She raised one eyebrow as he approached her and extended his hand. He had black hair, on the longish side, and it was a mess of haphazard curls. His dark brown eyes met hers as she accepted his handshake.
"Orlando Bloom," he introduced himself. "Nice to meet you..."
"Erin Taylor," she filled in for him, noticing his British accent with dismay. Any guy with a British accent nearly always rose on her attractiveness scale, and already she felt herself liking Mr. Bloom more than she had when he'd first walked in. "I'll be your riding instructor while you're here," she continued, stepping away from him and moving toward the tack room. "Since you're late we'll have to go a bit faster this time then I would have liked, but you should do fine. However, you won't be able to ride in those." She pointed to his shoes, and he looked to his feet as if she talked about a foreign object.
"My shoes?" he asked blankly. "Why? What's wrong with them?"
Erin shook her head wordlessly and gestured for him to follow her.
He did so, and Erin dug around in a box full of boots, provided just for those actors and actresses who failed to dress appropriately for their lessons... like Mr. Bloom. He watched her keenly, a small smile growing on his face. "I wear a size eleven," he informed her suddenly, peeping over her shoulder and into the box of stray boots.
Erin stopped digging, looking over her shoulder to glance at his feet and then to his face. He still watched her with that smile, and she went back to looking without saying anything, deciding he wasn't really trying to be a smart ass - he just was one. She finally found a pair of size eleven riding boots and handed them over to him. "Here you are," she said lightly. "Put those on and then meet me out by the horses."
He nodded obediently and sat down on top of the box of grooming equipment, unlacing his shoes. "Why can't I wear normal shoes again?" he asked just before she left the tack room.
Erin turned around to face him, smiling tightly at this characteristic lack of knowledge often shown by the celebrities she worked with. "Because, Mr. Bloom," she explained evenly, "if you ride in tennis shoes and your horse should happen to throw you, your foot might go through the stirrup. If that happens, your tennis shoe would get stuck in the stirrup, and you'd be dragged all over the place, most likely ending up a bruised and bloodied mess." She cocked her head to one side. "And that wouldn't be any good, would it? How are you supposed to act if you're in the hospital?"
He looked at her silently for a moment and Erin got the impression he was trying to decide if her last comment had been sarcastic. But eventually he nodded again and went back to changing shoes. "Right, not a fan of blood and bruises," he said sullenly. "Thank you for pointing that out."
"You're welcome." Erin turned and went back out to the horse. She'd hardly lifted the bridle from the hook before he came out of the tack room, in his boots. She bit back her smile only with extreme effort and had to clear her throat to keep from laughing aloud. He looked completely ridiculous.
But he saw the expression in her eyes. "What?" he asked worriedly. "Do I look that bad?"
Erin licked her lips. "Well..." she hesitated, "don't worry. You'll usually be riding in costume anyway."
"Ah." He rolled his eyes. "That makes me feel better. Instead of looking like a prat in a rider cap and jodpers I'll look like a prat in a blond wig and pointy ears."
"Who are you going to play, by the way," Erin asked suddenly, intrigued by his last comment. Pointy ears and a blond wig? It did sound rather suspicious. But she liked any characters, and the actors who played them, that were able to ride themselves with minimal use of doubles.
He brightened immediately at her question. "I play the elf, Legolas."
Erin raised her eyebrows, then frowned. "Legolas?" she repeated.
"Yeah," he said. "Why? You look surprised."
Erin shook her head, but she narrowed her eyes and looked him over again. "Hmm," she murmured thoughtfully.
"What now?" he asked with dread.
She smiled at him, her hands waving in the air before her as though to find some words that could harness her doubt and articulate it. "I just don't see it, is all� but I suppose that's what make-up is for."
He sighed and crossed his arms, looking slightly injured from the comment. "Then I guess it's a good thing for me you're just the riding instructor and not the casting director, eih?"
Erin grinned wryly, thinking he might have meant that as an insult. But she took it lightly, finding it more amusing than insulting. "Yeah. Good thing. I did drama in high school� it wasn't pretty," she replied nonchalantly. She shook her head again, turning back to the bridle in her hands. "Anyway, once you have your costume boots you should start wearing those to these lessons."
"Then I'll start looking for those right away," Orlando told her. "These aren't the most comfortable things I've ever worn on my feet." He squirmed his toes in the boots, imagining he felt something other than his feet moving inside them.
"Well you won't be walking in them much," Erin said. "Now," she held up the bridle, "I'm going to show you how to saddle up your own horse. Usually the horse you ride will already be saddled for you, but just in case you ever need to do it..." she paused, looking up to him, and was struck abruptly by the intense way he watched her. She had to think a second before recovering her train of thought. "How much do you know already?"
He shrugged. "I rode once, but I don't know much..." he trailed off, his voice an odd mixture between pride and doubt.
Erin nodded slowly. "What kind of horse were you riding? How long ago was this?"
Orlando coughed and dug his hands into his pockets, looking sheepish. "I was ten, and the horse was actually a pony. It bit my arm. I cried," he murmured, wondering to himself what would compel him to reveal such an embarrassing event. In his mind he could see it clearly: the circus, the rodeo clown helping children feed the little ponies, and himself, sitting on the ground, nursing his wound and wailing like a cat.
Erin frowned and looked away sharply, trying not to laugh. She didn�t want to damage his self esteem any more than she already had. "All right� maybe I'll just go over the basics with you. Then we'll move out to the arena."
"You're the boss," he said, sounding relieved to be done talking about his past experiences. He moved forward, brushing past her to pet the horse's gray neck, and the gelding turned its head to sniff at the newcomer. Orlando held his hand out to the horse cautiously, only flinching once as the animal nosed his palm.
Erin watched him, judging his motions. He was careful and slow, like a small child, and she saw his lips moving as he whispered something to the horse. She grinned, her respect for this Orlando Bloom growing already. He looked over his shoulder to her.
"Is this the horse I'm riding?" he asked.
"Yes," Erin answered. "If you two get along in the next few weeks you'll probably be riding him throughout the shoot."
"What's his name?"
"Bud."
Orlando made a face. "Bud? That's it? That's his name?"
Erin shook her head, raising her hands innocently. "Hey, I didn't name him. He came to me like that."
"Can I name him something different?"
Erin cocked an eyebrow. "What's wrong with Bud?"
"It's so� American," Orlando said emphatically.
Erin found herself smiling again. Orlando hadn't ceased to surprise her. Most people she taught were not nearly so eager to get to know the animal they'd be spending months with. "You can call him whatever you want. I don't think he'll mind."
Orlando stroked the horse's nose. "I'll have to think of something good..."
"Well while you think about it let's saddle him," Erin said, moving forward to Bud's head and lifting the bridle. Orlando turned to the side to watch her, though one of his hands absently played with a strand of the mane. Erin noted such movements easily; she always watched for people's attitude's toward the animals, and she was ever thankful she'd finally gotten someone who wasn't an ass to them. "This is the bridle, as you probably already know." Her voice took on animated tones, encouraged by Orlando's expression of interest. She pointed to the specific parts as she talked about them. "Here's the bit, and the curb strap... and this is the throatlatch..."
***
In a little less than an hour Erin had explained all the major parts of the bridle and saddle and showed Orlando how to properly put them on the horse. He impressed her still farther by paying close attention to everything she said. He never seemed bored with anything, and while other actors and actresses she had trained often lost focus during her long lectures, Orlando often asked questions. Erin happily answered them, but she also tried not to overdue it. She didn't want to burn him out on the first day. He still had another month of training before filming even started.
By the time they were ready to head out to the arena Erin's first impression of Orlando Bloom had changed drastically. He'd gone from a clueless, stuffy, insensitive actor to an animal-loving guy who listened to her, while occasionally offering a flirtatious remark, and took his training seriously. She found he was eager to learn, and she appreciated that.
They led Bud out to the small outdoor arena, and he mounted without being too clumsy. Erin took up her spot in the center of the ring, and as she looked out to Orlando sitting on the horse she smiled to herself. She was glad to be working with him... this was why she had wanted a job like this... yes indeed... for the horses of course, and people like him.
She shouted instructions from the middle of the arena, having Orlando simply walk along the fence until he felt comfortable in the saddle. Then she had him take Bud through a series of easy maneuvers, looking for what Orlando already knew and what he would need help with. By lunchtime he had mastered the art of sitting properly on a horse at a walk, and Erin thought it wouldn�t be as hard to turn him into a good horseman as she�d originally thought. He had a bit of natural talent, at least.
She glanced to her watch and gestured for him to bring Bud in. �Time for lunch,� she called out brightly. Orlando brought Bud toward her and halted the horse beside her, frowning down at her. �You�ve got an hour to eat before you�re due back here,� she told him. At his continuing frown she added, �I�ll take care of Bud for you, don�t worry.�
�Yes, well�� he paused, shifting uncomfortably in the saddle. �Are there any good places to eat around here? I didn�t really� see much on the way.�
Erin patted Bud�s shoulder thoughtfully. �Um, I don�t know. There�s not really much out in this area besides this stable.�
�So I noticed,� Orlando mumbled sourly.
Erin looked up to him, squinting in question.
He met her eyes briefly, then licked his lips and looked away. �I took a bit of a accidental tour of the country,� he informed her. �It�s a long way to drive so early in the morning, you know.�
Erin blinked at him blankly and he sighed. �I got lost,� he clarified, once again surprised to be admitting such things. �That�s why I was late.�
A slow smile spread across Erin�s face at his confession. �Oh,� she said finally in understanding. �So� are you one of those guys who doesn�t like to ask directions?�
�I got here didn�t I?� he asked rather defensively. �And even if I had wanted to ask directions, it would have taken me all day just to find anyone to ask!�
Erin dipped her head in acknowledgment of his last point. �That is true. In that case, I�m surprised you made it here at all.�
He narrowed his eyes at her comment but made no reply, and Erin thought it amusing to see him flustered. �I�ll tell you what,� she said finally, �I�ll put Bud away and you can just come out to my place. I�m going there for lunch anyway, and it�s only twenty minutes away from here.�
Orlando shook his head. �No. I don�t want to intrude. I�ll just have to find someplace... somewhere.�
Erin snorted. �Well, no offense, Mr. Bloom, but you don�t have time to drive all the way back to Wellington, and being as I�ve been here two months already and couldn�t name you a close caf�, I�d prefer you not spend the rest of the day roaming the New Zealand countryside looking for someplace to eat.� She nodded her head toward the barn. �Now come on, we�re wasting time.�
He hesitated, still reluctant to accept her offer. �Are you sure? I mean I don�t want to ��
�I wouldn�t offer if I wasn�t sure. Come on.�
Orlando finally relented and dismounted laboriously, grimacing at the stiffness in his knees. He stumbled into Erin as his feet hit the ground and nearly knocked her over. She caught herself on his arm just has he reached around to steady her.
�Are you all right?� he asked quickly.
Erin nodded. �Fine. You?�
He seemed about to echo her reply, but at the last moment thought better of it. �My arse is bloody sore,� he commented bluntly.
Erin grinned, shaking her head. �Get used to it. Try and walk it off; I�ll put Bud away.�
He nodded consent readily and Erin pulled away from him, only at that moment realizing how close they�d been standing as he�d gripped her arms. She left him wobbling on unsteady legs and led Bud into the barn. She had the horse unsaddled and stalled quickly and went back outside to see Orlando still limping around the arena. She wished she�d be there to see his reaction to the soreness he�d feel tomorrow morning. That would be something to see� and doubtless something to laugh at.
�I�m ready,� she called to him, and he made his way slowly after her toward the cars. As they reached the gravel parking lot Erin gestured to a red 4x4 truck. �That�s my vehicle,� she said.
They had reached it by the time Orlando spoke again. �Are you sure you don�t want me to drive?�
Erin frowned over at him as she unlocked her door. �Why?�
He shrugged. �I�m used to roads like these, and you�re�� he faltered at her look, �not?� he finished uncertainly.
�Right,� Erin crowed, rolling her eyes. He was not the first person to make such a statement since she�d come to New Zealand. �The roads here are backwards for me, aren�t they?� she said sarcastically. �That must mean I can�t drive them.�
�That�s not what I meant,� Orlando protested seriously. �I just meant that if you weren�t entirely comfortable driving them��
�Thank you for the offer, Mr. Bloom,� Erin said sincerely, climbing into the driver�s seat. He got into the seat next to her and she glanced sideways at him. �But being as I�m not the one who got lost this morning, I�ll be doing the driving.�
�Yeah I knew I shouldn�t have told you that,� he muttered, making a point of looking out the window as she started up the engine.
Erin hid her smile, but she couldn�t resist having a bit of fun with him after he�d made such a comment about her driving. She peeled out of the stable parking lot and sped down the winding roads even faster than she normally did, noting with some satisfaction the white in Orlando�s knuckles as he gripped the door ledge.
***
Exactly eighteen minutes later Erin pulled into the driveway of the place she would call home for the next year or so. �This is it,� she said cheerily, �home sweet home.�
Orlando peeled his fingers from the door and Erin swore he left fingernail marks behind. He tossed a look to her that said he knew she�d done that on purpose. �I think next time I�ll drive,� he growled under his breath.
Erin only smiled, leading the way up the porch steps and into the house.
Orlando followed the woman into her house, still feeling a bit strange about accepting her offer for lunch after only just meeting her that morning. He tried to think of Erin as just another girl he�d have a casual lunch with, but the fact she was his riding instructor made it hard. She seemed about his age, and yet he felt as if she were years ahead of him. He figured it was because she was giving him lessons� after all, he�d already become fairly good friends with Billy Boyd, who he�d only met a few weeks ago, and though the man was five years older Orlando never considered their age difference.
�Make yourself at home,� she invited warmly, setting her keys on the low bookshelf just inside the door.
He looked around the house as he stepped into the foyer, watching Erin walk ahead into the kitchen and wondering how old she actually was. He moved after her through the small foyer, passing a coat rack and a tall grandfather clock. A running carpet led from the door over the polished hardwood floor down a short hallway, which ended at the arched doorway of the kitchen. A doorway to his right led into the spacious living room, and to his left a carpeted stairway climbed upwards to the second floor.
He stepped into the brightly painted kitchen and stood by awkwardly as she started rummaging through the fridge. �Nice place,� he commented, thinking it was quite a bit bigger than the one he�d rented.
�Thanks,� she replied, her voice muffled. �It�s the only thing they had available this close to the stables.�
�Are you renting it, then?�
�Yes. What about you? Have you found a place to live yet?�
He nodded even though her back was to him and her head was still stuck in the refrigerator. �Yeah. Got a place outside of Wellington, next to the ocean.� He leaned back against the counter, folding his arms across his chest.
Erin pulled out of the fridge, arms full of food, and looked at him with raised eyebrows. �Ooo nice. You like the beach?�
�Yeah. Don�t you?�
She set the food on the counter. �Of course I do.� She glanced to him. �What would you like to eat? I�m having a sandwich� you like turkey by any chance?�
Orlando straightened and cleared his throat, tugging uncomfortably at his shirttail. �Actually I�m a vegetarian.�
Erin looked mortified for a brief moment. �Oh, I�m sorry. Um� let me see�� she turned back to the fridge, searching briefly and then slamming the door shut and moving over to the cabinets. Orlando thought it absurd she had to go through all this; he promised himself he�d bring his own lunch starting tomorrow.
�How�s spaghetti?� she asked finally.
Orlando shook his head. �I don�t want you to have to go through the trouble-�
She pulled out a pot and the noodles, ignoring his protests completely. He ran a hand down his face and rubbed his chin, feeling more and more ridiculous with each passing moment.
�I love beaches,� she said suddenly, picking up on their conversation. I�ve always wanted to go to a Caribbean island.� She gestured at a chair. �Sit, won�t you?�
He edged toward the chair but didn�t want to sit while she did all the work. �Do you need any help?� he asked tentatively.
She shook her head. �No, just sit down. I�ve got it.�
He pulled out the chair and hesitantly sat down, still not feeling right about this whole thing. �You know� I�m really sorry about all this. I don�t mean to be such a pain.�
Erin turned from making her sandwich and gave him a clever smile. Her eyes squinted up slightly when she smiled, and he thought it cute. �Get used to that too,� she said. �You�re a celebrity, and celebrities are always a pain.�
He frowned. �That�s not a very nice thing to say.�
�But it�s true. Trust me; I�ve been working with people like you for three years now, and you wouldn�t believe some of the stuff I�ve had to put up with!�
�I can imagine,� Orlando blurted, and then, realizing he was being lumped with such people, added, �But that�s a pretty harsh generalization, don�t you think?�
Erin shrugged, moving over to put the noodles in the boiling water. �Maybe. But you haven�t proved me wrong yet.�
Orlando grimaced. �Please, I feel bad enough already. And you offered.�
�Of course I did,� she said, her tone softening. �You may be a pain, but I can�t let you starve. Besides, you were nice to the horse. That in itself warrants a free lunch.�
Orlando grunted. �As long as he doesn�t go about taking bites out of my arm I�ll like him well enough.�
Erin snorted, shaking her head. �I don�t think you have anything to worry about.� She turned to face him. �Would you like anything to drink?�
He cocked an eyebrow. �Have you any tea?�
Erin sighed. �Oh dear. Perhaps you would have had better luck driving around the countryside.�
Orlando offered a soft smile. �Then what have you got?�
Erin looked up to the ceiling as if a list were to be found there, ticking off her fingers as she recited her meager supplies, �Water, milk, orange juice, apple juice� and some stronger stuff, but I don�t think this is the occasion��
�Water is fine, thank you.�
Erin poured him a glass of ice water and as she set the glass on the table in front of him he tossed his eyes upward to look at her imploringly. �I�m not really a celebrity,� he told her, �not in the common sense of the word, anyway.�
One corner of her mouth curved as she turned away from him to go back to the food. �Really?� she asked. �Why not?�
Orlando focused on his glass of water; running a finger up and down the slick side of the glass and taking an odd sense of satisfaction in seeing the tiny beads of perspiration vanish beneath his fingertip. �The term �celebrity� suggests that a person is famous. I�m not famous. Or at least, no one recognizes me if I walk down the street.�
Erin turned to face him again, leaning back against the counter much like he had just moments before. �Does that bother you?� she asked suddenly.
Orlando snapped his head around to look at her, surprised by the question. He frowned in thought, his finger still absently wiping away the perspiration on his glass. �I don�t know,� he finally answered truthfully, and then kicked himself for saying such a thing. He should have answered modestly, instead of with the truth. If he really thought about it, he supposed he did at least want to be a name in Hollywood. It was just the rest of it - the constant cameras and interviews and gobs of slobbering fans - that he wasn�t quite sure about. And yet, he didn�t think he�d really mind being constantly sought after, the focus of attention in a room� he blinked, coming out of his thoughts at Erin�s next statement.
�Well, you�ll see. From what I think this film will turn out to be�� she shook her head, as if words would not suffice, �I�m sure it won�t hurt your career any.�
Orlando watched her closely as she twisted around to scoop a heaping pile of pasta on a plate, then set it in front of him. She seemed to be an interesting character herself, and here he was invading her home and eating her food and he hardly knew a thing about her. �You said you liked the beach,� he said, trying to get away from the celebrity talk, �do you know how to surf?�
Erin laughed, coming to sit across from him with her sandwich. �Me? Surf? No, I�ll stick with riding horses.�
�Why?� he asked abruptly, surprised at the disappointment he felt by her answer.
She half-shrugged. �I don�t know. I guess I just never felt inclined to try it. You a surfer?�
Orlando shook his head. �No. But I did want to try it out while I was here. I just thought�� he shook his head again. �Nevermind. Thank you for lunch, you really didn�t have to do this.�
�Don�t worry about it. If it really bothers you just pay back the favor some day.�
He nodded. �I will, and I mean that.�
There was brief silence, and then Erin spoke up again. �About that surfing� if you ever do learn how to do it properly, maybe I�ll let you teach me how.� Orlando�s eyes brightened at the prospect. �But only if you promise not to make a fool of me in front of everyone on the beach.�
He raised his hands innocently, not quite sure why he wanted to surf with Erin so badly, and gave her his most serious face. �I promise. I will only make a fool of myself.�
�Well that�s not hard to do, I imagine.�
He would have been offended by the remark if she had not followed it with a wink. Instead he only sat and watched her, shaking his head at her once more. There was an undeniable sense of a carefree nature about her with the way she subtly poked fun at him. It was evident in the sparkling blue of her eyes and in the way she carried herself when she walked. He got the impression she liked to have fun - when she wasn�t working - and realized that was probably why he wanted to go surfing with her. She just seemed to be the type who would be fun to hang out with� if you could get her out of the horse arena.
�You�re brutal,� he commented at long last. �Are you used to working with jerks?�
�Oh yes,� she answered easily, and Orlando was surprised at the swiftness of her answer. He sat back in his chair, suddenly becoming aware of the fact Erin could probably be terribly vicious if she ever got mad. He would have to keep that in mind.
They made small talk as they ate, mentioning everything from cars and music of choice to places they�ve traveled to pets they�ve had, and it was at this point in conversation Orlando leaned forward with interest. �You have a dog too?� he asked in surprise. Already he�d found out Erin had many of the same interests as he, and he�d been hard pressed to name a place he�d been to and she hadn�t.
�Yeah. A mutt. He�s cute though.�
�Is he here?�
She shook her head, her face sobering. �I left him at my parents� place. He wouldn�t have liked such a long plane ride. And I�m not at the house here much anyway.�
�I know what you mean. I had to leave my dog back home as well.�
�Really? So you found someone to take of him?�
�My girlfriend�s parents are taking care of her.� He raised his eyes to meet hers suddenly, regretting the mention of his girlfriend. The regret came immediately followed by guilt that he would lament saying such a thing, and yet he couldn�t help wishing he hadn�t made it known he was unavailable.
�Oh,� Erin said simply, snapping Orlando from his thoughts. �I�m sure they�re very good people if you trust them that much.� She smiled sweetly, and he nodded reluctantly in agreement.
�So your girlfriend lives in�?�
�London,� Orlando husked, and then cleared his throat and reached for his water.
�That�s a long distance relationship for ya,� Erin commented.
�Yeah, well, we planned on her coming to visit me periodically throughout the shoot,� he said, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. He really didn�t like talking about this with Erin, and he couldn�t quite figure out why.
But she nodded to him, seeming completely comfortable with the subject. �That�s a good idea. Does she like to ride?�
He squinted. �No, I don�t think so.�
Erin made a momentary face of displeasure. �A shame.� Then she brightened. �Does she like to surf?�
He shifted again. �Um, no� we�ve never had a chance to go anyplace worth surfing together.�
�Oh.� There was a brief and awkward silence, and then Orlando finally fixed Erin with his gaze.
�And what about you?� he asked, swinging the conversation away from him with some relief. �Do you have a boyfriend waiting for you back where you come from?�
Erin smiled to show her teeth, tilting her head slightly forward and looking at him from beneath her eyelashes. �I�ve had them here and there,� she replied, �but with my job I travel too much to be in any kind of serious relationship.�
Orlando lifted a dark eyebrow. �So is that a yes or a no?�
She grinned at him. �That�s a no, Mr. Bloom. Too much to do here for nonsense like that.� She noticed his empty plate. �Would you like seconds?�
He gestured a no. �No thank you, I couldn�t eat another bite. It was very good, though.�
Erin stood and took the dishes to the sink. �Its spaghetti� can�t muck that up, can you?�
�Well��
�Coffee?� she offered. �Since I have no tea��
Orlando shrugged, glancing to his watch and finding their lunch break was almost over. It had gone fast, and he wished they did not have to go back to the stables. He�d become quite comfortable at Erin�s table in the last forty minutes. �Sure,� he answered, thinking perhaps he could postpone their return. He found Erin Taylor�s company much more pleasant when she wasn�t shouting orders from the middle of a dusty arena.
Erin readied the coffee and set a mug in front of Orlando, resuming her seat. She looked across the table to him and met his eyes, realizing with amusement they were the same rich brown color as her coffee. Actually he had very pretty eyes, and they were very expressionate. Throughout their conversation she�d watched him, almost studied him. She�d found his smile very attractive; his facial expressions communicated his feelings on certain matters long before the actual words were spoken, and he gestured often with his hands when he became excited over something. She smiled, thinking it must have been Orlando Bloom�s face that had sold him to the casting crew.
They finished their coffee at a leisurely pace, talking of how they came to be on the Lord of the Rings project, and Orlando informed her he had originally tried for the role of Faramir.
Erin cocked her head, staring hard at him. �No, I can�t see you as a Faramir either,� she announced at long last.
Orlando exhaled his breath in a hiss, shaking his head hopelessly. �I think I�m glad to be Legolas, though,� he said, choosing to ignore her last comment. �I�ll get more screen time, except I won�t really look like myself. And I suppose I�ll get to do some cool stunts as an elf� otherwise why am I going through all this bloody training?�
�What else do you have to learn?� Erin asked, actually interested.
Orlando sighed heavily, leaning forward on his elbows with his hands wrapped around the coffee mug. �I�ve got to learn archery, canoeing, knife and sword fighting, how to say a few lines in the Elfish language, and of course, horseback riding to a certain degree of perfection before filming begins, at least. I�ve got so much stuff in my head right now, you must forgive me if I forget everything you�ve taught me today by tomorrow.�
�Repetition is the key, Mr. Bloom. Soon you�ll do it from habit, not memory.� She checked her watch. �And speaking of, we should head back to the barn. Bud�s waiting.�
He frowned at the name, taking his mug to the sink himself. �I must find a better name for that horse.�
Erin led the way back to the front door, looking over her shoulder to Orlando as he followed her. �What�d you name your dog?� she asked out of pure curiosity.
�Maude.�
Erin faced the door to hide her grimace, but as he rushed to move ahead of her and open the door for her she muttered, �Then I feel sorry for Bud.�
He snorted as she stepped past him onto the porch and nodded her appreciation of his manners. �And I suppose you thought of a clever name for your dog?� he asked.
Erin locked the front door and turned around to look him in the face. �Chewbacca,� she said haughtily, a note of pride in her voice.
�Let me guess,� Orlando drawled, �the dog�s big, brown and shaggy haired?�
Erin shrugged one shoulder, stopping at the driver�s side door. �Pretty much,� she admitted.
He rolled his eyes. �Right. Very clever a name that is.�
Erin ignored his sarcasm and opened the truck door, hesitating before getting in. She turned to him suddenly, holding out the keys. �Did you say you wanted to drive?�
A light sparked on in his deep brown eyes, his face coming alive with a slyness she automatically became playfully cautious of. �Really?� he asked in disbelief. �You�d let me drive your truck?�
�Sure. But wreck it and you pay for it.�
In answer he snatched the keys from her outstretched hand and hopped into the driver�s seat as she went around the other side and climbed in. He revved the engine and Erin hastily buckled her seat belt, casting a slightly worried glance to him.
She found him looking at her, a huge grin plastered across his incredibly youthful face. �Revenge is hell, love,� he told her gleefully, and the tires squealed as he took off down the road.
***
without thought or measure
no sense to it's tread
it seeks it's own pleasure
far and wide it travels
with no reason
for its choices, its decisions�
Love rides blind
silent and unassuming
and then it stumbles
upon a heart
and consumes it
with fire of passion
that knows no bounds
acknowledges no rules
bends all to its fashion�
Love rides blind
it does not see what�s before it
until it's there
no questions
no answers
no regrets
no worries
no faces
but its there�
Love rides blind
pathless, guideless
it makes it's own current
sweeps away the grime
leaves us in the light
perfect and shining
made new and bright
in its path
we are helpless but to give in
to these feelings surging�
Love rides blind
we ride blind with it.
By Lossefalme