"Damn!" Kelly probably could have used a much stronger word, but what would be the point, there was no-one to hear her. She had felt the rear of her Range Rover begin to shake about. Something was wrong. She looked into the side mirror and saw the horse float rocking alarmingly and leaning much more than it should. Her first thought was for George, she didn't want him to come to harm.
There was a parking bay at the bottom of the hill so she eased back and pulled in. One of the trailer's wheels had gone and the threads of the wheel studs were badly damaged, not the kind of thing that could be fixed easily. She took out her mobile phone and tried to call her father. There was no signal. This time she let her frustrations get the better of her. "Fuck!"
Going to the rear of the float, she lowered the ramp and stepped in to be greeted by a snicker from George, her six year old black stallion. "It's all right George, we're just stopping for a rest. There's a stream here for you to drink from, and some nice fresh grass to munch while I figure out what to do."
She unclipped his halter from the ring and backed him out of the float. George nuzzled her as he always did, and she led him to the stream for a drink. He stepped back from the water and held his head up, listening for something. It was several seconds before Kelly heard the sound of thunder getting nearer, but there wasn't a cloud in the sky.
Around the bend in the road, coming down the hill from the direction that she had come, was a group of at least thirty motor cycles, and not just any motor cycles, she recognised them as the group of Harleys that were at the truck stop that she had left fifteen minutes before.
Vroom, vroom, vroom, wave after wave of them roared past. Then one slowed and turned around. "No, don't." Kelly whispered to herself, willing him not to stop, as the rider trickled back to where she was parked.
The rider kicked the stand down and propped the bike onto it. "Do you have a problem?" He asked as he took his helmet off. He did not look much like a biker, his designer stubble was pierced by a white smile, his dark complexion highlighted his blue eyes and after he had run fingers through his black hair, he looked positively handsome. He wore a black leather jacket and leather pants and boots, not the grunge colours and scruffy jeans of a bikie gang. This was not what her vision of what a biker wore, these clothes were what a serious motor cyclist wore, not what the others she saw at the truck stop wearing. "Cat got your tongue?" He asked through his smile.
"Huh? Sorry, but you're not what I expected."
"I know, I'm supposed to be some hairy, tattooed biker, with a huge belly and that sort of stuff. Sorry to disappoint you."
"Don't be. I seem to have lost a wheel somewhere, you didn't see it back there somewhere did you?"
"I did actually, not that it's going to do you any good, going by those studs."
"What am I going to do? I can't get any reception here, otherwise I would have called my father to bring a new axle and fix it for me. I can't leave George here while I go back for help, he's too valuable for that."
"I could take you up to the top of that hill and see if you can get a signal from there. If you can, you can arrange for your father to get help for you. What do you say?"
"Thank you so much, that would be great if you can do that. I'll need to get George back into the float first."
"Will that be a problem, will you need a hand?"
"No, he's used to this." Kelly took hold of the halter and led him into the float, he stood still while she clipped his halter to the ring in front of him. "You could give me a hand with this if you want." She said as she stooped and grabbed the tail gate. "It's pretty heavy." It might have been a heavy tail-gate, but with the torsion spring to help, she could manage on her own.
He helped her lift it into place and lock it, and she opened the access door at the front and went in to fasten a safety chain to hold it from the inside. Stepping out, she locked the access door.
"He must be worth a lot for you to go to all that bother."
"Yes he is, he's a good horse and I wouldn't want anything to happen to him."
"What is he, a race horse?"
"No, he's my eventing horse. We're on our way back from a three day event over the past weekend."
"How did you go?"
"We won." She said, without any suggestion of pride, but as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "Actually George won, I was just the passenger, he did all the hard work."
"I don't suppose you have a helmet, do you?"
"I have my riding helmet, it's not the same as yours but it will offer some protection, if I should need it. I'm Kelly by the way."
"Ben, I'm please to meet you Kelly, Ben Jacobsen. Do you have a name to go with Kelly?"
"Jordan." Kelly said as she got her riding helmet from the Rangey. Ben noticed the riding clothes and a prize ribbon in the back, along with a saddle and bridle.
She straddled the bike and sat on the pillion. Ben kicked it into life and the signature thump thump, thump thump of the Harley, caused by both pistons of the vee twin motor firing on the same stroke, vibrated through her body from between her legs. It felt just like her heartbeat. "Hang on." Ben yelled over his shoulder as he twisted the throttle and the bike roared off up the hill. Kelly's heartbeat began to race, this was a new experience for her, it was so different from the sensation that she felt when riding George, and she could feel herself reacting to it, a moistness between her legs. She clung to Ben, leaning in to his firm body. This too was a new sensation. Brad's body was not as firm as this, he had a thin layer of good living around his waistline. She thought of Brad and how angry he was with her, and how he had left her when he stormed out of the truck stop.
Ben stopped his bike at the top of the hill and Kelly stepped off. Taking her mobile from her pocket, she dialled her home. "Dad, thank God I finally managed to get through to you. I've broken down and I need you to come and get me, and to bring a new axle for my float."
"What happened, I checked it out myself before you left and it was perfect." His concerned voice not believing what she had told him.
"One of the wheels came off and the wheel studs are damaged, even if we could get the wheel back on, it probably won't stay on for very long."
"Okay Honey, I'll find an axle, even if I have to strip one from another trailer, tell me where you are and I'll get there as quickly as I can."
"I figure that I'm a couple of hours drive away, about thirty kilometres from the truck stop at Riddick Springs. We pulled into a parking bay at the bottom of this long hill, you can't miss us."
"Can you stay there? I might not be able to make it before the morning."
"We'll be fine, there's plenty of feed and water for George and I might be able to rustle up something for myself."
"Take care Honey, I'll get to you as soon as I can, and I'll bring you some food and coffee."
"Thanks Dad."
"Thanks Ben." Kelly said as she put her helmet back on and climbed back onto the Harley.
"Do you have any food with you?"
"No, I was hoping to be home by this evening, why?"
"If you take George out and let him graze, I'll go back to the truck stop and get us something to eat. How do you like your coffee?"
"White thanks, no sugar."
"Sweet enough, huh?"
"That's what they say." She smiled at him. "Why are you doing this?"
"Damsel in distress and all that. You needed help and I decided to give you that help. I want nothing in return by the way. I'll be back soon." He kicked the bike over and roared off towards the truck stop.
Kelly lowered the tail gate and backed George out of the trailer. He drank thirstily from the cool, clear stream before lowering his head to munch on the long grass. She sat on the front of her Range Rover and watched him. They had been together since he was a foal, and a bond had grown between them. Satisfied at last, George moved over to her to get his nose rubbed. "You were great, I never would have succeeded without you." She whispered to him. This was something that she always did with him, stroke his nose and talk quietly to him. He seemed to understand everything that she told him, and would often, as he did now, fall asleep with his head on her shoulder. They stayed in that position until George jerked his head up and listened. Soon Kelly heard the sound of the Harley and Ben returning.
He had a container sitting on the tank of his Harley and he reached into the saddle bag and produced a six pack of beer. "I hope you like beer, I didn't like the look of the wine that they were selling and I don't drink the hard stuff."
"What sort of biker are you? I've never heard of any that don't drink JD or Beam. Come to that, you don't look much like one."
"I'm not really, I have a day job, I only ride on weekends, and the group that I ride with are not hard core bikers, we are mostly professional types out for some fun. A lot of them were bikies, once but have moved on and got real jobs. They love to put on their old colours and ride on weekends. What about you? I don't know of any professional horse riders, at least not any who do what you do."
While he was talking he was unpacking the food and stacking it on the bonnet of the Range Rover, a steak sandwich each, some fries and salad and pie for later. He opened a beer and handed it to her. Kelly hadn't realised that it had been so long since she last had anything to drink.
"I do this as a hobby, but I am working towards the National trials and Olympic selection, but that's a few years off yet. My dad is a horse breeder, mostly race horses, but when I wasn't a boy and became interested in riding, he decided that I should go down this road. George was a present for my 16th birthday, but I wasn't allowed to ride him seriously until he was a four year old. Dad said that was to give his bones a chance to mature, eventing is harder on horses than flat racing. In the mean time I had to build up a rapport with him, to be able to talk to him, calm him down when he got stressed so that he had an even temperament."