Page 60 of The Facilitator: Part 2
“Of course I have. Come on, I'll teach you. If you want to explore, on horseback is the onlyway.”
“I don’t know, they’re dangerous, aren’tthey?”
“Put on somejeans.”
Mackenzie walked to the hall where our suitcases stood. He grabbed a pair of jeans from his, and a pair from mine. I watched as he stripped off his trousers and left them over the back of a chair in the hall, without a care anyone would seehim.
“You only have shoes,” I said, as I headed to the downstairs loo to change myoutfit.
“I’m sure someone has some boots in our size,” hesaid.
In just our socks, we padded through the house to an area I would have called the boot room. Two dogs raised their heads from padded mats near a radiator. Mackenzie patted one while rifling around. He found two pairs of boots and handed me one. They were a little large but I was assured they’d do the job. My feet sloshed around as we walked out the house and around to the rear. We were greeted by Gabriella walking from a stableblock.
“You’re not, are you?” shesaid.
“We are, I think,” I replied, hoping we were talking about the samething.
“Oh, can Icome?”
“Of course. Now, who do we have here for Lauren?” Mackenziesaid.
“Jack?” Gabriella called out. An elderly man emerged from a stable. “My friend has never sat on a horse,” she said. He simply nodded before walkingaway.
A half hour later two horses were tacked up and standing near a concreteblock.
“I thought you were coming with us?” Isaid.
“Alex just texted, he’s on his way, he’s been in town. I’d rather wait for him, if you don’t mind. Mackenzie knows this land like the back of his hand, he’ll take good care of you,” shesaid.
I was encouraged to stand on the concrete block and a horse, had it been human or Jack been equine, they could have been twins such was their aged look, stood beside it. I placed my foot in a stirrup and swung my legover.
“Ooff!” I said, as I landedheavily.
“I’m sure old Murphy feels the same,” Jack said, with a deep throatychuckle.
“Thank you, Jack,” I replied, with alaugh.
I liked him. He was that man I remembered from many a movie, the rugged, leather skin who spoke little but tended to the horses. Such a cliché, but that’s what he reminded meof.
Jack showed me how to hold the reins, to cluck my tongue to make Murphy walk. He doubted I’d be able to get him into a trot, and I was very thankful that would be the case. I could walk, I had absolutely no intention of doing anythingmore.
Mackenzie didn’t need the concrete step; he practically threw himself onto the saddle. Jack handed him a rope that was attached to the bridle of Murphy and off wewent.
“How do you feel?” Mackenzieasked.
“Brilliant. I love this,” I said, gently patting Murphy on hisneck.
“Want to try a littletrot?”
“I don’t know…” Before I could finish, Mackenzie had kicked his horse into a trot, and poor old Murphy was dragged alongbehind.
I bounced, hanging on to the front of the saddle as if my life depended on it. Jack had told me what that part was called, but while my vagina was being battered as I was propelled up and down, its name completely escaped me. Mackenzie laughing wasn’thelping.
“Stop, please,” I said, trying not to laugh aswell.
We came back to a walk. “Oh my God, my poorbits.”
“Bits?”
