Chapter 1
Mandy
Because I had been under so much pressure in the city I used the death of my favourite aunt as an excuse to take a sudden, but well earned holiday and decided to spend a couple of weeks in the country town where she had lived for over half her life and I had spent many happy times with her as a young boy. Driving into town and seeing horses grazing in almost every paddock reminded me that she'd always said that the place had more of them than it did people.
Having left as soon as I'd heard she had died I had two or three days to fill between my arrival and the funeral and I spent them driving around the surrounding countryside; both reviving my own childhood memories and making several obligatory visits to other, less well known relatives.
The motel I had booked into was on the edge of town, right next to a small stable with a training yard for show horses where every morning and evening two or three would be put through their routines. Because the river at that end of town was subject to occasional flooding most buildings, including the motel were built up on stilts and as the veranda running along the front of my wing gave me an excellent view, I got into the habit of spending half an hour or so out there with a drink before going down to the restaurant for dinner.
One particular team of horse and rider had caught my eye the first evening and although I really know nothing about horse flesh even I could tell that this one had real potential. He was quite magnificent, a big, strongly built animal, yet with perfectly controlled, very precise movements. What made him look even bigger was the small size of rider, who could have been barely eighteen, yet she handled him with ease, her upright, slender body guiding him through the complex manoeuvres and jumps with assured confidence.
Although I watched her riding skills with growing admiration the red-blooded male inside me couldn't help noticing and reacting to other things about her. The way her youthful breasts bounced beneath the tight sweater, the rhythmic rise and fall of her tautly rounded bottom, and the firm grip she kept of him with her long, obviously leanly muscled legs and thighs.
I admit that after watching them for a while I don't know which of the two I was really watching, the horse or the rider. Maybe my subconscious had picked-up on the contrast between the power of the animal and the vulnerability of the girl. Or perhaps there was something about her obvious mastery, her gentle dominance of the brute strength of the animal that stirred me. Whatever it was, after the first evening I found myself waiting anxiously for her to appear, and it would have taken fire or flood to have got me off the veranda while they were working together below me.
The motel was nothing flash, they liked to call themselves a family motel, but it was very comfortable and all the staff were friendly, none more so than the buxom waitress who seemed to run the restaurant. I got the distinct impression she had taken a fancy to me, and although the unspectacular uniform she was wearing couldn't disguise the rich curves of her figure, perhaps because she knew the reason for my visit, our brief conversations remained limited to my aunt and the respect the town had held her in.
As funeral's go, it went well. After the service I spent a couple of hours at the house of a cousin who had taken charge of all the arrangements, meeting and making small-talk with my aunt's friends and some of my other distant relatives.
So it was late afternoon before I could finally make my escape and as I walked back to the motel via a track beside the river I recalled memories of my aunt and the things that had happened to me when visiting her all those years before. In fact I was so deep in thought that I completely failed to notice the figure coming down another path and so her cautious - 'Hello' - took me by surprise and brought me back to reality with a start.
If it hadn't been for her riding outfit I wouldn't have recognised her, she was carrying her hat and the honey-blonde hair it normally hid cascaded down around her shoulders, completely altering her appearance.
'Now I know who you are, you're Mrs Yates' nephew, Robert, aren't you. You've just come from the funeral.'
'That's right.'
'I'm Amanda, everyone calls me Mandy. I'm sorry about Mrs Yates, she was a wonderful lady. We all loved her you know. We'll miss her.'
'Thank you, I'll miss her too, I'd lost contact a bit in recent years, but I used to spend quite a lot of time here when I was a boy.'
'I've seen you watching Champ and I working and couldn't help wondering who you were.'
'He's a magnificent horse, and although I don't know much about the technicalities, you handle him superbly.'
My unprompted compliment brought a slight flush to her cheeks as she smiled. 'Thanks, he's a great horse, very intelligent, he learns quickly.'
'Maybe so, but it's the rider that brings all that out, and it's obvious that you're very good at it, and that you love it.'
'Oh I do! When everything's going well, it's as though we're no longer horse and rider, we become, well, it's actually hard to explain, but there's nothing quite like it!'
'You mean the team-work?'
'Yes, partly that, but there's more to it.'
'I guess there has to be an understanding between you, you must develop a real team spirit.'
'Oh yes you do, and although that's true with most horses, with some it's more pronounced, and with Champ that's especially true. At least that's what he's like with me.'
'You mean there's a kind of relationship that develops between you?'
'Mmm, yes.'
'In that case he's a very lucky stallion. And that might account for what I've sensed when watching you.' I said, semi-jokingly, expecting her to either ignore, or laugh at the flirtatious innuendo. But she did neither, I saw her face flush a little then she replied by saying.
'You mean you've sensed something, well, something sexy about it Robert?' she asked in a much quieter voice.
It was as though she'd read my mind and for a moment or two I didn't know how to answer. 'Well perhaps I would have used the word erotic, but I suppose it's much the same thing. Anyway, yes, that's sort of what I meant.'
'You got those feelings from just watching?'
'I have done, at least from watching you two.' I admitted.
'That's nice to know, and although I always get them, in the last few days they've been stronger than usual, I mean since I've seen you watching from the veranda.'
Just then we came to where the path split into two, one leading to the motel, the other to the stable and we stood there for a few moments, then, just as I was about to walk away, she said. 'Are you going to watch us this evening?'
'Of course I am.'
'Would you like to meet Champ, after we've finished our work I mean?'
'I'd like to very much Mandy.'
'Will you do something for me then?'
'What?'
'Don't change. I mean keep your suit on.'
'Why?'
'You look nice in it. People here don't often wear suits, and certainly not the way you do. It makes you look different, important, powerful. And, sexy too.' she added with a hesitant grin, then colour returning to her cheeks when my eyes drifted down over the slender curves of her body before replying.
'In that case I'll certainly keep it on.'
Twenty minutes later I was on the veranda, drink in hand, waiting for them to appear from the stabling sheds beside the training yard. There were no other riders there that evening and the emptiness of the yard, the tense under-current to our brief conversation and the look I'd thought I'd seen in her eye all combined to make me feel nervously excited. But I didn't have long to wait before they appeared, she looked up, gave me a wave and then took the horse into his training routine.
The tension I'd been feeling increased as I watched them working together and although most of the time she concentrated all her attention on their performance, from time to time I saw her head turn slightly and felt sure she was staring up at where I stood, and of course couldn't help wondering just what was going through her mind.
My own thoughts were mixed-up, at one level appreciating the skills demonstrated by both horse and rider as they worked together. At another, watching the way she deftly controlled him with commands from her hands and legs, finding myself becoming almost jealous of the horse as I imagined her controlling me with similar, strong yet subtle movements.
Then after a while I noticed that she seemed to be having difficulties with the horse, he started to become skittish, tossing his head, snorting and balking at simple manoeuvres. Mandy persevered with him for a while then looked up at me, threw her hands up in despair, indicated she was going to take him back to the stable and beckoned me down to join them.
By the time I got down there she'd got the saddle and bridle off and had started to give him a rub down.
'What happened Mandy? What made him suddenly start misbehaving like that?'