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Chapter Three
That night, Ayla sank into her Jacuzzi tub of bubble bath and moaned in pleasure. Regan had let her ride the horse for a good twenty minutes, with him leading her, but she was still sore. Letting the water soothe her muscles, she half wished Regan was there to massage her muscles. When he helped her down, she had stumbled, almost falling against him, and she got a close up shock of electricity from him. It had taken all of her willpower not to reach up and kiss him. Leaning her head back against the bath pillow, she breathed in the soft scent of jasmine. The pale gold tiles of the bathroom walls shimmered in the soft candlelight, the mauve trim looking darker than it was. Ayla loved her bathroom, with it soft feminine coloring and energy, she loved to soak in her tub. Just sometimes, she wished there was a strong male body to play
with in it. Like Bill Regan’s. Especially Bill Regan’s, she thought with a smile. Slipping under the water, she began to wash her hair, wishing it was Regan’s strong fingers combing through the long locks. *** The next morning she arrived on time for her lesson, and smiled to herself as Regan’s eyes traveled over her quickly. Ayla knew she wasn’t beautiful or thin, but what she lacked for physically she tried to make up for in personality. She had brushed her hair until it shone like spun gold, and wore blue to bring out her eyes. “Good morning!” she said brightly. “You always this cheerful in the morning?” he asked. Ayla giggled as she set two large cups of coffee on his desk. “Only after three of these. You seem like a man to take it black but there’s sugar and cream in the bag.” “Black,” he confirmed, reaching for the cup. “And thank you.” Ayla watched the way his fingers curled around the cup and wondered again at what it would be like to have them on her skin. “What do you love the most about horses?” she asked suddenly, taking a sip of her coffee. Regan was grateful it was plain coffee and not one of the new, fancy flavored sweet coffees. “The way they run. Watching them run at full gallop is just about the most beautiful thing you can watch,” he answered. Ayla smiled. His eyes got a little faraway look when he talked about the animals, and she suddenly wondered if any woman would ever be able to cause that dreamy look. She wondered if she’d be able to cause it. “I’ll be sure to pay more attention,” she murmured. Regan watched as she saddled Ivory carefully, checking the straps and bit, and led her out to the corral. Using the mounting block, she made it up the first time, grinning nervously at Regan. “Good, now, remember from yesterday. Make sure you’re in the lowest part of the saddle. Don’t squeeze with your legs if you feel panicky. Keep your legs back, gently. Good. Keep your heel in line with your hips, move, yeah, that’s good. Ball of your foot in the iron, heels down. And make sure you keep your heels down,” he said firmly. Ayla nodded. The horse stood calmly, stretching its neck out to nuzzle Regan’s neck. “All right, keep your upper body straight-no, that’s too stiff, good.” Regan looked at her critically, judging if she was sitting straight. “Now, keep you upper arms close to your body, elbows bent. Good,” he said approvingly. Ayla wondered what else she could do to his approval. “Now, the reins. Palms down, fingers toward the neck. Little finger under, others over, thumb under, no here-” Regan reached over and gently set her fingers where they needed to be, fully aware of the softness of her hands, “Your hands are going to get roughed up if you don’t wear gloves,” he said absently. Ayla laughed. “ I don’t really care.” Regan grinned at her. “Curl your finger a bit, around the rein, good, now turn your hand so your thumb is on top, knuckles forward. Good.” He nodded to himself, and his strong fingers lingered for a second longer than necessary. “Now, wait till I tell you to, but to make her walk, you’ll squeeze gently with your lower legs, but relax them while she’s walking. Some stubborn horses may require it a couple times. Ivory won’t. Some might even need a gentle kick with your heels. Now, when she starts walking, horses walk on a four step gait. That means each leg moves in turn and touches the ground individually.” Ayla smiled nervously. “Now while you’re walking, the body is going to sway. That’s because of the way she moves each hind leg. It lifts in turn and moves forward, after a while you’ll be able to tell which leg is moving. You’ll also note the head moves back and forth, like she’s nodding. Make sure you keep your arms relaxed so your hands move with her while holding the reins. It’ll help keep the same level of tightness, but not restrict her movement.” “What are the chances if I screw this up, she’ll throw me?” Ayla asked. Regan shook his head. “Slim to none. She’s never thrown a rider, and she knows what she’s doing.” “Ok,” she murmured. “Now go ahead and give her a little squeeze. Little harder.” Ivory started walking slowly. “Good, keep her steady.” “What if I want her to go faster?” Ayla asked anxiously. Regan chuckled. “All right, Miss Impatient. Just go slow for a few minutes, till you get used to it.” Ayla walked Ivory for a few minutes before Regan spoke again. “Trot is a two step gait. That means the legs moves in pairs, instead of individually, which you remember from the walk.” Ayla nodded. “Good. The pairs are diagonal, that might seem obvious, but you’d be surprised how many people don’t think it is. The sway is going to feel different when she trots, and her head won’t move like it does when she walks.” “Got it,” Ayla grinned. “All right, first is the Rising Trot. You’ll probably like it better than the second, but time will tell. Go ahead and stop her.” Ayla did so, eyes on the handsome instructor. “Now, you’re going to basically move with the rhythm of the horse. As one pair of the horse's legs land on the ground you sit, and then rise as the other pair of legs land on the ground. It’ll be difficult the first few times, but most riders try to overdo it. Move naturally. Push your hips up and forward, kind of a thrusting move.” Regan ignored the slightly startled and amused expression on her face, his strong hand hovering near her leg as he moved it to emphasize his words. Ayla almost choked when he said thrusting movement, because she had a very different desire to use a thrusting movement on. “Keep your lower leg still, use only your upper leg to thrust with, up and forward, then back down. Make it a continuous movement. If it helps, listen to the beat of the hooves on the ground, and count in time, one-two, one-two to match your rising and sitting. Got it?” “Continuous thrusts, one-two, one-two,” her eyes twinkled at him with a mischievous smile and Regan really hoped he hadn’t turned red. “All right, let’s try that for a while to see how you do.” Ayla held her breath as she squeezed. Ivory moved forward and picked up speed. Ayla winced at the bouncing but quickly got used to it as Ivory trotted around the corral, Regan smiling as he watched. Regan was smiling for two reasons. One, he was pleased she was picking up the lessons so well, the other was he was thinking about those long, firm legs wrapped around him. “All right, bring her back now,” he called. Ayla did so, grinning with flushed cheeks, and strands of her golden hair were falling from the ponytail. “Good job,” he said approvingly. “I think that’s enough for today. Tomorrow we’ll do a little more.” “But we have all day!” she protested. Regan shook his head. “Much more and you’re going to be black and blue tomorrow. Go home, rest, soak in the tub and we’ll start again in the morning.” “Regan, will I really be ready by Friday evening? That ride is on Saturday.” “I promised to keep you in the seat, and I will. Tomorrow we’ll do more, but you’ve got to ease into it.” Disappointed, Ayla nodded.
“Take her to the mounting block and dismount,” he said gently. Ayla obeyed reluctantly, unaware of Regan’s eyes glued to her backside as she dismounted. “What if I come back later?” she asked with a mischievous smile. Regan laughed. “You are persistent, aren’t you?” “Only when I want something,” she said sweetly, her blue eyes twinkling at him. Regan almost laughed out loud. “All
right. Come back around three and we’ll do a little more.” “Great,” she gave him a dazzling smile as she led Ivory inside.
Regan just shook his head, but he was smiling.
***
Ayla headed into Sleepyside for lunch, and was disconcerted to realize there was no fast food. Finally a small diner, called Wimpy’s, came into view and she parked the car. The lunch crowd has dispersed and there was only a tall, elderly man at the counter, glowering at the guy behind it. “I’ve got your usual started Frank, don’t worry,” the cook was saying. Ayla hesitated. If her friends found out she ate in a diner like this, they’d never let her hear the end of it. But she was sick of lunches where they all ate salads with fat free dressing and teased whoever dared to put butter on their baked potato. Truthfully, she was sick of all of them. Sometimes she wished her father had never made those millions. Swallowing her reticence, she pushed the door open and walked in. This would not be another night where she starved herself during the day for her friends sake and then gorged on ice cream and cake at home when no one was around.
“Hi there,” Mike looked up at the pretty blonde that came in. “Hi,” she said shyly, smiling, taking a seat at the counter next to the old man who looked at her and grunted. “What can I get for you?” he asked. “Well, I’ve never been here, so why don’t you tell me what you recommend?” she asked. “Everything,” he laughed.
Ayla grinned. “Just give me whatever your most regular customers order.” “That’s a lot of food. Double cheeseburger, fries, chocolate shake. I named it the Bob White special years ago.” Why did that sound familiar? she wondered. “Sounds good.” Mike grinned. “I like to see a girl who’s not afraid to eat. You just get comfy there next to Frank.”
The old man barely looked at her as he took a bite of his burger.
“You new here?” Mike asked.
Ayla nodded. “I actually live in White Plains. I’m taking riding lessons out here.” “Riding lessons? You must be one of Regan’s students,” Mike said. Ayla nodded again. “You know him?” “Sure do. He’s in here all the time. Since his nephew is off in the city on the police force, he comes in all the time. Orders the special that you just did.” “Regan’s pretty cool,” she said nonchalantly. Mike hid his smile. The blonde had perked up as soon as he said Regan’s name. She wasn’t just a student, he’d be willing to bet she had a crush on the redhead. Regan needed some romance in his life, Mike thought. He’d spent too many years alone with just animals for company, and Mike had noticed the way women eyed the tall man when he came in.
“He’s a great guy,” Mike agreed as he finished her milkshake. “You known him long?” Ayla asked, smiling as she took her shake and put a straw in it. “Yeah, the Wheelers moved in here, what Frank, about eight years ago?” The old man grunted. “Somewhere around there.” “Regan kind of keeps to himself,” Mike said, “but he watches the games every Sunday, I know that, and the only channel that runs horse races.” The lack of real information was disappointing, Ayla almost forgot about Regan when Mike placed her burger in front of her and she bit into it. “Oh my God, that’s good,” she managed when she swallowed, taking a sip of water, then her shake. Mike grinned. “Thanks. Regan likes them too.” “I do, so I hope you have one almost ready,” His deep voice sent a shiver down her spine and she wondered how long he had been standing there.
“Saw you pulling in,” Mike said cheerfully, nodding toward the grill. “Met your newest student here.” “She’s a quick learner,” Regan said, taking the stool next to her. “Lytell, how you doing today?” The old man grunted. Regan rolled his eyes. The conversation seemed a bit stilted until Mike asked Regan how the new stallion was working out. The conversation flowed around horses for a while and then Regan excused himself. “See you at three,” he said to Ayla. She nodded, her eyes following his solid frame. Mike hid his smile. ***
She was back at the stables at three pm promptly, bounding in happily. Regan was sitting at his desk, pen in hand, but staring at a framed eight-by-ten picture. Ayla glanced at it, studying the teens in red jackets. “Who’re they?” she asked. “The Bob-Whites I told you about. My nephew Dan is the dark haired kid on the end. The redhead is Jim Frayne, my partner’s son, his sister Honey. The blondes are Trixie and Mart Belden, and the other dark haired boy is their older brother Brian. The pretty girl with black hair is Di. She’s married to Mart now.” Ayla recognized the group name from Mike's comment. “What’s with the red jackets?” she dropped into the chair across from him.
“Part of the their club, the Bob-Whites of the Glen. Dan is on the NYPD now,” he said proudly. “Trixie and Honey are private investigators in the city. Jim runs a boys school in Vermont, and Brian is his resident doctor. Mart and Di are there with them too, as teachers.” “Impressive,” Ayla studied the picture. “The redhead looks more like you than your nephew.” “Yeah, it was a running joke that this estate had three men with red hair who knew jack about cars and everything about horses,” Regan answered, standing up. “You ready?” “Lead on,” she grinned. Once she was up on Ivory and comfortable, she looked to Regan. “All right, now sitting trot may seem easier, but it can be harder to learn. This is a bouncier movement, so riders tend to get tense. Don’t, otherwise you’ll feel like your brain is going to come out your head. With a sitting trot, you need to relax, sit softly. The more relaxed you are, the more comfortable you’ll be. Experience will help, but until then, just breathe slowly. And don’t tense your legs. It’ll not only make the horse feel you are asking him to go forward faster, but will also result in your seat and back becoming tense, making the ride more uncomfortable for you both. Clear?” Ayla nodded and Regan handed her the reins. "And keep your heels down!" he added. He was right, she realized, her brain did feel like it was about to come out. Forcing herself to relax, she smiled as the ride smoothed out. Regan watched approvingly as she became more comfortable. She wouldn’t win any awards for riding any time soon, but she was at least listening and keeping her seat. Regan had her go through all the lessons she had had so far, and was impressed she remembered so much. Her pretty forehead was wrinkled with thought, and once or twice she hesitated, but went on. Finally he had her bring Ivory back in. “So when do I get to gallop?” she asked eagerly. Regan laughed. “Tomorrow you’ll learn to canter, and then we’ll see about gallop. One step at a time.” “Oh, all right, if you say so,” she agreed, dismounting. Regan oversaw her clean the tack and rub down Ivory, and once all standards were met, smiled at her. “You’re doing well. Remember to soak in your tub tonight, so you don’t hurt tomorrow.” Ayla nodded, wishing he could soak with her.
*** Author's Notes
never let her hear the end of it. But she was sick of lunches where they all ate salads with fat free dressing and teased whoever dared to put butter on their baked potato. Truthfully, she was sick of all of them. Sometimes she wished her father had never made those millions. Swallowing her reticence, she pushed the door open and walked in. This would not be another night where she starved herself during the day for her friends sake and then gorged on ice cream and cake at home when no one was around. “Hi there,” Mike looked up at the pretty blonde that came in. “Hi,” she said shyly, smiling, taking a seat at the counter next to the old man who looked at her and grunted. “What can I get for you?” he asked. “Well, I’ve never been here, so why don’t you tell me what you recommend?” she asked. “Everything,” he laughed. Ayla grinned. “Just give me whatever your most regular customers order.” “That’s a lot of food. Double cheeseburger, fries, chocolate shake. I named it the Bob White special years ago.” Why did that sound familiar? she wondered. “Sounds good.” Mike grinned. “I like to see a girl who’s not afraid to eat. You just get comfy there next to Frank.” The old man barely looked at her as he took a bite of his burger. “You new here?” Mike asked. Ayla nodded. “I actually live in White Plains. I’m taking riding lessons out here.” “Riding lessons? You must be one of Regan’s students,” Mike said. Ayla nodded again. “You know him?” “Sure do. He’s in here all the time. Since his nephew is off in the city on the police force, he comes in all the time. Orders the special that you just did.” “Regan’s pretty cool,” she said nonchalantly. Mike hid his smile. The blonde had perked up as soon as he said Regan’s name. She wasn’t just a student, he’d be willing to bet she had a crush on the redhead. Regan needed some romance in his life, Mike thought. He’d spent too many years alone with just animals for company, and Mike had noticed the way women eyed the tall man when he came in. “He’s a great guy,” Mike agreed as he finished her milkshake. “You known him long?” Ayla asked, smiling as she took her shake and put a straw in it. “Yeah, the Wheelers moved in here, what Frank, about eight years ago?” The old man grunted. “Somewhere around there.” “Regan kind of keeps to himself,” Mike said, “but he watches the games every Sunday, I know that, and the only channel that runs horse races.” The lack of real information was disappointing, Ayla almost forgot about Regan when Mike placed her burger in front of her and she bit into it. “Oh my God, that’s good,” she managed when she swallowed, taking a sip of water, then her shake. Mike grinned. “Thanks. Regan likes them too.” “I do, so I hope you have one almost ready,” His deep voice sent a shiver down her spine and she wondered how long he had been standing there. “Saw you pulling in,” Mike said cheerfully, nodding toward the grill. “Met your newest student here.” “She’s a quick learner,” Regan said, taking the stool next to her. “Lytell, how you doing today?” The old man grunted. Regan rolled his eyes. The conversation seemed a bit stilted until Mike asked Regan how the new stallion was working out. The conversation flowed around horses for a while and then Regan excused himself. “See you at three,” he said to Ayla. She nodded, her eyes following his solid frame. Mike hid his smile. *** She was back at the stables at three pm promptly, bounding in happily. Regan was sitting at his desk, pen in hand, but staring at a framed eight-by-ten picture. Ayla glanced at it, studying the teens in red jackets. “Who’re they?” she asked. “The Bob-Whites I told you about. My nephew Dan is the dark haired kid on the end. The redhead is Jim Frayne, my partner’s son, his sister Honey. The blondes are Trixie and Mart Belden, and the other dark haired boy is their older brother Brian. The pretty girl with black hair is Di. She’s married to Mart now.” Ayla recognized the group name from Mike's comment. “What’s with the red jackets?” she dropped into the chair across from him. “Part of the their club, the Bob-Whites of the Glen. Dan is on the NYPD now,” he said proudly. “Trixie and Honey are private investigators in the city. Jim runs a boys school in Vermont, and Brian is his resident doctor. Mart and Di are there with them too, as teachers.” “Impressive,” Ayla studied the picture. “The redhead looks more like you than your nephew.” “Yeah, it was a running joke that this estate had three men with red hair who knew jack about cars and everything about horses,” Regan answered, standing up. “You ready?” “Lead on,” she grinned. Once she was up on Ivory and comfortable, she looked to Regan. “All right, now sitting trot may seem easier, but it can be harder to learn. This is a bouncier movement, so riders tend to get tense. Don’t, otherwise you’ll feel like your brain is going to come out your head. With a sitting trot, you need to relax, sit softly. The more relaxed you are, the more comfortable you’ll be. Experience will help, but until then, just breathe slowly. And don’t tense your legs. It’ll not only make the horse feel you are asking him to go forward faster, but will also result in your seat and back becoming tense, making the ride more uncomfortable for you both. Clear?” Ayla nodded and Regan handed her the reins. "And keep your heels down!" he added. He was right, she realized, her brain did feel like it was about to come out. Forcing herself to relax, she smiled as the ride smoothed out. Regan watched approvingly as she became more comfortable. She wouldn’t win any awards for riding any time soon, but she was at least listening and keeping her seat. Regan had her go through all the lessons she had had so far, and was impressed she remembered so much. Her pretty forehead was wrinkled with thought, and once or twice she hesitated, but went on. Finally he had her bring Ivory back in. “So when do I get to gallop?” she asked eagerly. Regan laughed. “Tomorrow you’ll learn to canter, and then we’ll see about gallop. One step at a time.” “Oh, all right, if you say so,” she agreed, dismounting. Regan oversaw her clean the tack and rub down Ivory, and once all standards were met, smiled at her. “You’re doing well. Remember to soak in your tub tonight, so you don’t hurt tomorrow.” Ayla nodded, wishing he could soak with her.
Author's Notes
-a big thank you to my editors, Robin and Lindsay!
-all riding info from http://www.equine-world.co.uk/riding_horses/first_riding_lesson.htm(Equine-World)
-Word Count, 2,770
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