The Mansion

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While Papa Bear slept she got dressed. Well worn denims today, a sleeveless white tunic-like blouse buttoned to the valley between her breasts, her black ropers laced tight on her calves with her hair drawn into a ponytail. She dropped a kiss on his head and tiptoed out of the room. First destination was the kitchen.

Cold, crisp carrots were taken from the crisper and tucked into the hind pocket of her jeans. She was headed for his barn to check out the horses. The soft sound of her boots hitting her wooden floors followed her as she made her way to the study, fingertips finding the secret panel and pushing gently until the panel sprang open. Stepping into the Room of Mirrors, the panel closed behind her. There was no hesitation as she chose one and stepped through. In the next instant, she was in the barn and looking around. It smelled of bayrum, hay, earthy and fresh. The soft whinny of horses, their bodies shuffling as a stranger appeared, was music to her ears.

The interior of the barn was simple, strong. A work of deft, loving hands. She smiled. Ice loved working with his hands. Craftsmanship done with appreciation and love for the wood, drawing out of it, what it was meant to be. Cait stepped quietly to the first stall. There was a small sign that declared this beauty hers. He was handsome beyond measure.

"Hello beautiful one..."

She kept her voice soft as she slowly opened the door to the stall and stepped inside. The horse shifted. She held out an open hand, palm upwards toward the horse's muzzle. His velvet lips tickled her palm, making her smile.

"Yes, Gorgeous.. I brought you something..."

From her back pocket she retrieved one carrot and held it out. As the horse's strong teeth broke off a piece and munched contentedly, Cait ran her free hand over his head, stroking between his eyes, all the while crooning lovingly as his ears twitched.

The horse snagged the rest of the carrot from her hand with a slight toss of his head, making her laugh softly. With both hands free, she moved to the horse's side, running her hands across its spine, down over its rump to its hind legs and back up to float across his sides. He was magnificent. A bit young and in need of a strong hand. Her eyes moved around the stall and not finding what what she was looking for, she let herself out of the stall, closing it behind her. Moving from stall to stall, she greeted, stroked velvet noses and offered a carrot to each horse. She read their nameplates as she went. Two stalls were empty. Rusher and Grace. Rusher belonged to Ice. Moving along, she found the tack room and removed a curry brush and a bridle before she went back to the Arabian Gelding that was hers. The horse nudged her shoulder, making her smile.

"No, greedy one. One carrot is all you get today. Ice will give me a lecture on making you fat if I'm not careful."

The bridle was hung on a peg in the stall before the curry brush moved over his back in slow steady strokes, down over his flanks and sides before she ducked under his muscled neck and worked the other side.

"I know exactly what I am going to name you, Handsome. I'll be sure to leave Ice a note so he can have your nameplate made up."

Black ears flickered in the direction of her voice then back to their normal position. Setting aside the brush, she reached for the bridle, bringing it to the gelding's face to smell. She continued to keep her voice low and soft.

"Now, let's slip this on you, hm? I have an itch to ride along the beach today. Open."

She slipped the leather over his nose and brought the bit to his mouth speaking the word she wanted him to learn to associate with the bit sliding between his teeth. She would have preferred to use a halter but the gelding was a bit spirited. Cait handled horses gently until she needed to be firm with them. She knew how much a bridle could hurt the tender inside of a horse's mouth if one didn't know horses well. She did. Leather was fitted over his ears, settled and buckled under his head. The reins were drawn up and tied off to a ring built into the stall. She patted his flank.

"Be right back."

Another trip to the tack room to retrieve blanket and saddle, both were trudged back to the gelding's stall. The saddle set aside long enough to fit the gelding with the blanket. Again, it was brought to his nose to sniff before she slowly put it on the animal's back, shifting it to fit just right. The saddle was swung carefully up onto the horse's back. He sidestepped briefly then settled with Cait's soft murmured reassurances. The saddle was adjusted, tugged. She ducked down reaching across his underside for the cinch strap and looped it through the ring on her side of the saddle...

"You're going to be a good boy, aren't you? You're not going to hold your breath on me while I cinch this on? because I really, really...." she pulled on the clinch, tightening it under his belly, "don't want to have to resort to putting a knee in your belly."

She had a horse do that to her, just once. The butthead. The saddle shifted violently and the next thing she knew she was kissing the ground and staring up at azure skies. An old trick of horses she later learned. They held their breaths so a good snug fit couldn't be had and let it out after the unsuspecting rider though the cinch was firmly in place. That meant the saddle was loose. Yeah. After that, she always was very careful with the cinch. That particular horse, she learned, did it on purpose. No one would ever convince her that horses didn't have a personality.

Cinch in place, secured. Cait reached up to tug on the horn with one hand, the cantle with the other. Satisfied the saddle was held firmly in place, she untied him, leading him from the stall by the reins and out of the barn.

The morning was still cool and it was perfect for a run down on the beach. Fitting her booted foot into the stirrup. One hand wrapped around the horn, she swung herself up into the saddle, thankful she had strong thighs. The horse pranced sideways a little. She pulled on the reins in her right hand just a bit, her left went to the side of his neck, patting reassuringly. Then they were off, down the trail that would take them to the beach and a a long run down along the shore.

She sat up straight, heels down in the stirrups, reins held in her right hand. She had a damn fine seat and knew it. Once down on the beach, she pulled the horse up. Leaning over to talk softly at him. His ears flickered. Then sitting up again, she nudged him with her heels and they were off and running. Beast and rider, flowing in a fluid motion as she leaned over him. Her eyes sparkled with the enjoyment of having such power under her, the sound of hooves softly beating in the sand, the latter of which flew up around them. The smell of the ocean in her nostrils, the sounds of the sea birds above, the gentle splash of the water as they ran. Nothing and no one mattered this morning. Just her and the horse, running wild.
 
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They rode a way down the beach, past the Outlook and beyond, a considerable way beyond before she pulled up and they both took a breather. Leaning over the horn, she scratched behind his ears a few seconds then patted his neck.

"Ready to head back, Sir?" A flickering of his ears, a soft snort and the bobbing of his head was his reply. She reached up and tugged her hair free of the ponytail.

"Let's go then."

She wheeled him around and they flew back the way they had come. Sand flying. Hair streaming behind her. He was a glorious animal. Short work was made of distance they had covered previously and she had him back in the barn, in his stall in no time. Reins were tied again to the ring in the wall as she removed the blanket and saddle. Cait trekked back to the tack room, setting both on a saw horse, there, for the purpose of drying out both. Ice would see to it being restored to its rightful place once he came in to care for the horses. She grabbed a curry brush and was headed to his stall when she stopped suddenly, greeted by a dog. Agatha. She knew this dog. Crouching down, she patted her thigh.

"Here, Agatha. Whatcha got there? Your ball? Come on, bring it. I'll toss it for you."

The dog hesitated a moment, ball in her mouth. But Cait could be charming and she had a way with dogs, ever since she was a child. It use to frighten her parents to no end that she did not hesitate around a strange dog. Never once has she been bitten by one. Agatha came up to her, ball still held in her mouth and Cait reached out for it. She didn't know what commands Ice used with her so she simply said, "Drop," holding out her palm under the dog's chin. Whether it was the right word or simply that Agatha wanted to play ball, the dog dropped the ball into her palm. The door to barn was still open and the ball went sailing out through it with the labradoodle hot on its trail. It made Cait chuckle. Standing up she walked back to the gelding's stall and entered, intent on caring for the animal. Another brushing was called for. Always before and after a ride. She set about it, talking soft nonsense to the horse as she did. Once done, she checked the horse's water bucket then gently, tenderly removed the bridle, slipping an arm around the horse's neck and burying her face there briefly. Heated horse flesh touched her cheek a moment before she backed away with a light slap on the horse's rump.

"Thank you for the ride, Beauty. We'll do it again soon."

Leaving the stall, she secured the door and went back to the tack room to hang the bridle. She found marker and paper and scribbled a note to Ice. Her eyes wandered about the room to insure all was in place before closing the door. She noticed the the twisting, black iron staircase that led above. She smiled. His room, she guessed. Her feet took her back down the corridor between the animals' stalls and paused at the Arabian's, where she tacked the note for Ice. It read simply:


"Thank you. He's beautiful and rides like a dream. His name is Storm."


Nothing else. There wasn't a need. Their agreement was unspoken. Like so many other things between them. When he was gone, absent for however long he would be, she'd care for the animals herself. She wasn't afraid of hard work, mucking stalls, exercising horses, grooming, none of it.

As she closed the barn door quietly and made her way back up to the house, she was in deep thought. They needed an exercise arena. She made a mental note to talk to him about it. Soon.
 
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