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VIII
“You won't believe Daphne's new Pony!” Caitlin told Beth. “A really beauty – a stallion named Tea Biscuit.” The name was odd. Intact males were rare in the stable also.
“Daphne must have passed her French midterm. Julia sure worked hard with her.” Beth answered before she remembered that she once knew someone who loved tea biscuits.
Beth passed two girls sneaking out of the stable. They gave her a big, too cheerful greeting. Beth saw their disheveled clothes and hair. “Young love,” she muttered to herself and rolled her eyes. Steinham College did offer few opportunities for privacy.
She saw the new name on the plaque, “Tea Biscuit.” She opened the stall door and saw the large well-built male standing up against the back wall. He was about her Ethan's height but appeared even bulkier. His sturdy thighs, buttocks, back and shoulders appeared even more powerful. Muscle hung in thick plates on his large frame. She gave him a cheerful “Good morning!”
Tea Biscuit heard her voice and recognized her immediately. Two years had passed and much had changed. The male had even begun to think of himself as Tea Biscuit and now his deeply suppressed Ethan-identity had erupted to the surface. He sniffed the air and recognized Beth's favorite perfume. He pulled violently against the lead. He tried to turn his head but the tether had no slack. He tried to speak and only braying noises emerged.
Beth sensed the Pony's mounting agitation. His arms flailed. His powerful legs stomped and kicked. “Easy, now. Easy, boy.” She approached him warily but sensed that physical contact might ease his disquiet. She placed her hand softly on his shoulder. “Easy, now. Easy, boy. Hi, Ethan. Son of a pig, long time, no see!” She marveled at the utter serendipity.
He quieted immediately at her touch. He tried to press back against her hand to increase his contact.
Beth ran her fingers over the well-healed script “R” brand of Rothesay Stables.
Momentarily unsure of her control of the beast, Beth took a deep breath and unfastened his lead. She looked up at the familiar features under his nose ring. “Mount,” she directed. Her Ethan dropped promptly to one knee. Now their heights were about the same. She studied him briefly. She had inspected many Ponies and he was as fine a specimen as any she had seen. She put a hand on either side of his head and studied his eyes. He stared back intently. “Just wait ‘til I tell Amy!”
Ethan looked at Beth. Her smile hadn't changed. Her voice hadn't changed but he saw the quirt hanging at her belt. He saw the rowelled spurs at the heels of her well-worn boots.
“Hey Beth, “said Daphne, “like my new Pony? Mommy bought him for me.”
“This here Tea Biscuit is an old friend of mine,” answered Beth. “He was my Pony in high school. He carried me in some great races.”
“Well, Mom said he cost a pretty penny. A handful of pennies, really.”
“I'm certain he'll be worth it. Let me take him for a ride?”
Daphne had changed after the tragedy with Noblesse Oblige. She and Beth bridled and saddled him. Beth swung into the saddle and urged him, “Up!”
Beth's burden was nothing compared to Ethan's size and strength. His conditioning had been thorough and arduous. He stood excited and nearly out of control.
Beth sensed his impatience and growing agitation. She was eager too. She dragged her spurs lightly over his flanks and quickly reminded him who was in command.
She set him down the track at an easy pace. She remembered their great races together.
Ethan thought about his past too. His mind wandered. Beth's hand touched the control rod and brought him very quickly to the present.
Beth felt him respond to her lightest touch and laughed. She nudged him with her spurs and he surged powerfully forward. Just wait ‘til I tell Amy, she thought and grinned broadly.