Am I Seeing Double 3
Page 4
I was right when we made love—I definitely did not need the book.
I was awoken next morning by a knock on the door, so I threw on a bathrobe, and answered it. It was breakfast.
I went to Jenny, leant over her, and kissed her on the forehead to wake her. It worked. She wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me back into bed.
Sometime later, we had a very cold breakfast. I had told Jenny not to eat it, and we’d have something in town on our way to her parents.
Jenny had insisted that it was okay, and it was her fault.
I agreed with her, that it was her fault, but I wasn’t all that upset about it. I had enjoyed it. I also enjoyed the breakfast.
Jenny suggested she take her car, as the road got a little rough, in a section before her parents’ property, but I said it was okay, and we took mine.
The first half of the journey was bitumen, with a few potholes. The rest, Jenny was right, it was rough as my car scraped a couple of times on ruts, and Jenny reminded me that she had told me so, and that I was too pigheaded to listen.
Her parents were waiting at the back of the house as we drove up. They had obviously heard the car coming.
After an introduction, they ushered me inside, and we all had a cup of tea and freshly made scones, with homemade blackberry jam and cream straight from the cow.
Jenny and I sat and chatted with her parents for a while and then Jenny said she would like to show me around the property.
After I had inspected the sheds and patted a couple of dogs, and two pet lambs, Jenny took me to the stables. There were only two horses in there. Jenny explained that they had more, but they were out in the one of the paddocks.
“Do you ride?” Jenny asked.
“I have, but it’s been awhile now,” I replied, “and I’ve probably forgotten how.”
“Nah, you never forget once you know how, it’s like riding a bicycle.”
“Why. Do they have pedals?” I asked trying to look serious.
Jenny burst out laughing, “Of course not, you idiot.”
I started to laugh—I couldn’t help it—her laughter was so infectious.
“Would you like to go for a ride?” Jenny asked.
“Why not? That could be fun,” I answered.
“Right. I’ll saddle up these two.”
“I’ll help you. I should remember how.”
“Fine, then come with me to the tack room, and we’ll grab a couple of saddles.”
I took hold of a saddle that I thought would be the most comfortable, as I hadn’t ridden for a long time, and Jenny picked out two bridles that she said the horses we were going to ride were better suited with, and two halters.
She gave me a bridle and a halter, and I grabbed a brush near the door.
“I can see that you have saddled a horse before,” Jenny stated.
“How can you tell?” I asked.
“You picked up a brush,” she replied.
“Force of habit.”
“Good habit.”
Jenny stopped and watched me as I put the tack down all except the halter, and went into the stable. The horse started to back away from me as I approached it. “Whoa, boy,” I said, and the horse pricked up its ears.
“It’s a mare,” Jenny corrected and started to giggle.
“Sorry I didn’t look,” I replied. “She also seems a little skittish.”
“That’s because you are a stranger to her and you called her a boy.”
“Whoa, girl,” I said and the mare stopped and stood quietly while I put the halter on her.
“See,” Jenny declared. “Give her the right title and she’s yours, and once she gets used to you, you’ll find she has a gentle nature, just like you.”
“So, you think I have a gentle nature?”
“Sometimes,” Jenny said and gave me a knowing look, then giggled.
She didn’t have to spell it out for me, as sometimes our lovemaking did get a little hectic, to say the least.
I led the mare outside to a hitching rail, brushed her, and saddled her up. When I had finished, Jenny came over and checked my work.
“Well done,” she commented. “You never cease to amaze me.”
“You either,” I replied and grinned at her, as though she was implying something totally different to saddling a horse.
“I have no idea what you mean by that,” Jenny said as though trying to sound a little indignant, but I am positive she knew what I meant, because she had given a little giggle after what she had said.
After Jenny and I had mounted our horses, we walked them for a while, and it brought back memories, of when I was a teenager, and when I lived on a property much smaller than this. My home had only one hundred acres, but Jenny’s was three thousand.
I had a girlfriend then, that was a neighbour, and lived on a similar sized property to mine, and we would go riding together. As we rode, I would put my right foot in her left stirrup, she would put her left foot in my right stirrup, and we would hold hands as we walked our horses.
After about fifteen minutes Jenny said, “Do you see that clump of trees over there at the foot of that mountain, there’s a dam there. I’ll race you to it.” She then took off.
My horse was no match for hers, mine was only a plodder, while she had a thoroughbred. She was well ahead of me when I saw her disappear into the trees on what looked to be a trail.
As I pulled up my horse at the dam, I looked around for Jenny. She had already untied the blanket roll she had behind her saddle, spread it out under a tree, and lay naked on it.
I nudged my horse and headed over to her, dismounted, and stood in front of her.
“What kept you?” Jenny said.
“If I’d known I’d find you like this, I would’ve jumped of my mount and ran.”
She was laughing as I stripped and joined her on the blanket.
How long we stayed there, I have no idea, until Jenny glanced at her watch and said, “Oh my gawd, we better make tracks, Mum will have lunch ready.”
We stayed for a while after lunch and then went back to town. Jenny stayed with me that night, and in the morning after she had left for work I headed off.
About the Author
Retired carpenter, Professional Photographer. Sales rep for newspaper. Had a bad start to married life finally, but found love years later, then lost that love to cancer. Now single and live alone I find I am much happier that way.
Love to write and take photos and browse the net.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
About the Author