Any feedback you have is truly welcome.
As ever, all characters engaging in sexual relationships or activities are aged 18 years or older. Any names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
This is the final part of an existing story. Please read the first two before this one.
= = = = = = =
Jake and Catherine lay wrapped around each other, a glass of the local red in hand and a pile of brochures spread around the bed.
"I know that this is a catholic country but there must be something to do other than look at churches," said Jake.
They were a week into the holiday. The weather had been good throughout and their little hideaway had been just that. A wonderful bolthole where they could pretend that they were the only people in the world if they wanted to. Since their trip to Assisi they'd investigated the local area and become captivated. The restaurants in Cortona were wonderful and the people incredibly friendly. Today they'd been to a wine tasting at a local vineyard.
The ever-energetic Valerio had recommended it and they'd joined a group on a formal tour. Initially they were not impressed. They had joined the bus in Mercatale and the tour had taken them up in to the hills. It was full of tourists from several different countries and it was all very quiet. At the front was a stout Italian lady who described the wonders of the passing countryside in four different languages. It was complete pot luck as to whether the place she was describing was visible as you passed by or not. Her monotone delivery didn't help one bit and she looked nearly as bored as the passengers on the bus were.
The man from the couple behind them leaned forward and said, "you're lucky, we've been listening to her for the last forty minutes".
It was a very subdued group that got off the bus twenty minutes later. The dour looking farmer welcomed them off the bus and they dutifully trooped over to the nearest field where he showed them some of his grape vines. The assembled group metaphorically shrugged their shoulders, unable to see the thirty years of effort and love that had gone into the care and nurture of them, and the farmer didn't have the words in anything but Italian to explain it.
They were all waved over to a large open sided hay barn. Two workers were standing there with glasses and wine bottles and there were benches and hay bales around the edge of the barn looking out over the stunning valley below. The unimpressed tourists filed through, took their drinks and sat spread around the barn.
Jake and Catherine were the last in the queue and the low mood of the tourists had rubbed off on the usually ebullient Italians. A glass was thrust into their hands and half-filled with red wine. Catherine stopped to take a drink and her face lit up.
"Wow! That's really nice. Much better than the Montepulciano we've been buying. Don't you think Jake?"
Jake nodded vigorously savouring his drink. The men serving the wine were delighted. As Jake and Catherine sat down with the two people that were behind them on the bus the farmer came over smiling broadly and topped up all their glasses to the brim.
"You like our wine!" he said animatedly and gave them the thumbs up before walking round to the rest of the group giving much smaller measures.
"You really made an impression!" said David, the man they'd met on the bus. His wife Jess leaned forward and joked, "do you think he's fallen in love with you or that you've fallen in love with his wine?"
The same thing happened again when they brought the cheese round. The farmer pulled out a bottle of wine just for them, topped up their four glasses, tapped the side of his nose conspiratorially and moved on. They were soon chatting away and laughing and the good wine and stunning scenery finally began to work on the rest of the group. The barn was filled with laughter and animated conversation. After the tasting they were given the option to buy some of the wine. Many of the group joined them in the small farm shop and Catherine bought a crate of the wine and some local cheese. Before they left the farmer gave them two more bottles saying,
"You like our wine!" and smiling broadly.
Needless to say, it was a very different atmosphere in the bus on the way back. The monotone guide kept her microphone off and the bus was filled with the buzz of good-humoured conversation. They said goodbye to their new friends at Mercatale and walked back up the road towards their little mill house laden down with wine and cheese. Valerio beeped his horn as he drove past into the village.
"You like? I knew you'd like!"
After a very pleasant pasta supper the couple went unsteadily up the spiral staircase, Jake's eyes glued to the hypnotic movement of Catherine's glorious rear and they fell on to the bed in a whirl of kisses, tickling and laughter. They made love with complete freedom, enjoying one another's body with soft gentle movements. Teasing each other to climax with their mouths and hands.
They relaxed in each other's arms before Jake went back down the spiral staircase to get one of their precious bottles of wine to savour together along with a pile of brochures and their bible.
Decisions, decisions! What to do tomorrow? They agreed that they didn't want to do another long drive which ruled out places like Florence and San Gimignano. They'd initially cherry picked the main places to go and see like Assisi and Siena but hadn't really looked at what was on offer in the local area.
Jake had his head buried in the bible looking for something that they might have missed while Catherine flicked through the brochures discarding them one after another. A picture of a horse rider on the front of one of the brochures caught her eye.
The advert read: "Horse riding, horseback trekking and equestrian excursions: for a couple of hours or a full day you will enjoy the unspoilt nature of Tuscany"
Catherine had always wanted to ride, ever since she was a little girl. She'd had a few lessons but had been thrown by the horse that she was on. Between the broken wrist and her protective parents, she never rode again. Her naturally conservative nature and her bad experience warred with her desire to ride.
So, it was with some trepidation that she took the horse trekking brochure from the pile in front of her and held it out to him.
"What do you think?"
"A horse trek?"
"Why not? It's not too far away and I've always wanted to ride a horse."
"I'm not so sure."
"Why not? It'll be fun. Don't you like horses?"
"I've no idea. I've never really been around them. I did go on a very tame ride along the beach when I was seven on holiday in Wales but that was on a donkey. I don't think it counts!"
"Well it's high time you tried it."
He laughed at her pronouncement and they toasted each other with their local wine to seal their decision.
They drove over to Montecastelli the next day and were able to get places on the afternoon's trek. Jake was alarmed to find that it meant two hours in the saddle. He'd heard that horse riding used muscles that you didn't know you had, and he worried that they'd both be unable to walk for days afterwards. He was less than enthusiastic about the whole idea.
They had lunch in a nearby café, took a stroll through the little village and were back at the ranch by half-past three.
The lady that led the treks was called Esmee. She was Dutch, incredibly welcoming and immediately put them at their ease. The horses all looked good and Esmee assured them that they were very docile and were used to having novices on their backs.
"If you manage to fall off this one you can have your money back!" she laughed as they gave Jake the most dependable of their horses.
They were helped to saddle them and set off through the rolling hills. Catherine looked like she was born to ride, effortlessly moving with her horse. Jake looked more like a sack of potatoes that had been strapped on to the saddle. He slowly relaxed as the time went by. At least the calm horse seemed to know where it was going.
Esmee dropped back to see how he was doing. She was hard to miss -- long blonde hair under a huge cowboy hat, bright coloured shirt and leather chaps. She obviously loved what she did.
"So now that you've got the hang of it, do you want to try a gallop?"
"Nooooo!" he said, a little too quickly. Catherine just laughed at him.
"Honestly," he said "I don't feel too secure. I'm just holding on here."
"Use your knees to hold on to the horse and guide her. Watch me!" And she demonstrated "Now you try."
But he had no control. Esmee looked slightly exasperated and then noticed his stirrups.
"Who set up your stirrups like that?"
"I don't know. The little guy...?"
"Massimo! I should have guessed. Stop for a minute."
She jumped down from the saddle and made some quick adjustments, shortening the stirrups. Suddenly Jake began to understand some of what she'd been saying as he had the support for his feet to do what she'd suggested.
The rest of the ride was much easier -- Esmee effortlessly moving up and down the group, switching between languages at will. She confessed to speaking ten or twelve languages but had trouble making sure that she was using the words from the right language all the time! Jake felt that he'd barely mastered one and was seriously impressed.
Some of the riders did gallop, including Catherine, while Jake trotted and cantered. By the time they were heading back to the ranch the sun was setting and the horse had decided that the person on his back might actually have some clue what he was doing. As they rode through the shade of a bluebell wood, Jake urged the horse down the slope and back up again and they burst out on to a poppy field in the light of the setting sun. He laughed aloud at the sheer joy of it and the horse tossed its head, startled by the noise. For that short time man and beast were as one.
