Page 13 of Stable Hand

“Afternoon,” said a young woman with a ponytail, dressed in black slacks, a crisp white cotton shirt with vest and bow tie. “Welcome to The Saddlery. What can I get you?”

I removed my hat and approached the counter. “I could use a drink.”

Understatement of the year.

“Absolutely.” The woman smiled and looked me over. “We don’t see too many cowboys here. Very refreshing. I take it you’re being introduced to the ranch, and Adam sent you up here to check out the resort?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“You look a bit dazed. The first day on the job here can confuse the most seasoned kinksters.”

I nodded. “I haven’t actually accepted the job yet.”

“Hmm. What are you up for? Trainer?”

I shook my head and blushed. “Stable hand.”

The woman put down her cloth and extended her hand. “My name is Alison.”

“Jensen.”

We shook hands and I ordered a beer. As Alison poured my drink, she continued talking. “Ask me anything. I’m sure you’re full of questions.”

“So…I guess you know what goes on down at the ranch…” I said, wanting to make sure before I mentioned any of my concerns.

“Oh yes. I help with the pony shows.”

“Oh. Okay then. Yeah. Well.”

“Are you freaking out, Jensen? You look a bit like you’re freaking out right now.”

Definitely freaking out.

“You can tell?”

“Here. Drink this. Let’s talk.” Alison gave me the beer and poured a seltzer for herself. “Cheers.”

We clinked glasses and I took a much-needed swallow. The Scotch I’d had in Marsland’s office had dissipated eons ago.

“Oh fuck. What am I going to do?” I moaned, rubbing my face with my hands.

“You don’t want the job?” Alison speculated, staring at me kindly with a smile.

I shook my head. “No, I do want the job. I just…didn’t really expect…the kind of intimate activities…the job involves.”

“What do you mean?”

“I thought there would be horses. Real horses.” I mumbled, swallowing another drink. “I grew up in Alberta. On a ranch. An actual ranch, not a sexy, blow-my-mind-all-over-the-fucking-place fetish ranch. With grown men dressed as…dressed as…”

“Ponies.”

“Right. Ponies. Goddamn sexy ponies.”

Alison laughed. “Uh-huh. Damn sexy ponies.” She wiped the bar down with a wet towel. “That must have been a shock. Sounds like quite a mix-up.”

I grinned. “So, not only me then? They turn you on?”

“Oh, honey,” Alison murmured, licking her lips and raising her eyebrows. “You’d have to be a pretty cold fish not to react to those beautiful boys prancing about in their harnesses, preening and currying favor with their trainers and the stable hands.”