 banner by Krazymoonkat Chapter 7 Believe it or not I have often considered the attractions of riding a horse with a cowboy. I know, surprise surprise eh? Sort of wedged between strong thighs and that bit that sticks up at the front of a saddle, yeah you do get my meaning. Imagined swaying gently against leather, leaning back to receive kisses and whispered suggestions about what will happen once we are underneath the starry night and the thin blanket, perfect chiselled cheekbones in the campfire light. With luck the horse would know where it was headed. Lonesome on the Range? Nope not me….I have dreamed of being ‘took in Texas’ and if I had known his name I think it would have been Joe. Such a good outdoor sex direct hard solid earth kind of a name don’t you think? “Take me right now- Matthew/ Caspian/Timothy/Alexander!” doesn’t sound so RIGHT. Not that I know fuck all about it, like I say, just have an unhealthy interest in westerns and a propensity to men wrapped up in low slung jeans. Maybe there are cowboys all over called Tristan. Where was I? Oh yeah on a frigging four legged demon This however is more Rawhide than anything else- like being expelled from a rocket launcher and I am holding on with all my might to anything I can grab. No not that, don’t want to distract him from making sure the bloody horse leaps when it is supposed to and doesn’t send us both to hell. Jesus Christ! Give me a Harley any day! This thing has a mind of its own, apparently veering off in different directions. Close your eyes Eva! Ah shit was that a tree?? He has one hand sort of round my waist I presume so I don’t slide off, I am grasped tight between said thighs but to be honest with you I am about to scream “LET me OFF!” before my teeth are shaken out of my head. I did ride a Shetland pony once, when I was about 10. It was not preparation. Best just close my eyes. Calm Eva Calm, he is in control. We are at break neck speed; suddenly I get the point of that expression, covering what seems like miles in minutes, the ground rushing past, as are the fences and gullies, winding through gum trees like there is a fire behind us. My arse feels so bruised that I am not sure I will ever be able to sit down again, and this is no time to be thinking about anything else. Thank God, we are slowing down now, the occasional farm building coming into view in the moonlight “You alright lass?” Am I alright? I will attempt to prise my hands off the leather saddle, find my scalp with my fingers to press my hair down again and wipe what I imagine is half the population of Australia’s insect life off my face before I answer shall I? Oh I bet I look a picture. Like one of those people stumbling off the latest dice-with-death roller coaster, slightly shell shocked, all their spare change gone from their pockets and not sure whether to chunder or go on again. “Fine...never better” I lie and take a deep breath. Funny enough I think he might have guessed that frankly this environmentally friendly form of transport has left me weak at the knees for all the wrong reasons and his arms tighten a little around my body as he pulls me against his chest, there’s something then. “Ah yer will be right as rain, I will see to that, we just have to watch out fer coppers on the way into town” To be honest, getting caught up in this lust thing has it’s advantages but even so I can’t help but frown as just a slice of reality creeps in. “Joe, not that it is any of my business” we will leave the fact of aiding and abetting for now I think “but do you think it is wise to go into a town so close to the last one you just robbed? There will be pictures from the CCtv cameras, they might well be in the newspapers, all over the internet news for sure, msn and all. Somebody spots you, makes call to the local cop shop and that’s that- you know-behind bars. Which isn’t quite the scenario I was hoping for” I can almost hear the struggle in his head, wanting to ask and not wanting to appear less than the man he is by being so hamstrung by some incredible and quite unbelievable lack of general knowledge about the place we are in. All evidence, every word he says, leads me to the assumption that this is an intelligent, perceptive, thinking man. Ah come on now! You didn’t imagine I abandoned my knickers with just one look at him!? Haahahah…right. But I repeat- he is clearly very far from dim witted. And yet…except what? Except that he doesn’t know what the fuck I am on about half the time. Perhaps it is better to go back to the lust/sex thing and be done with the more cerebral side of our ‘relationship’ He is pulling the horse up, stopping, I hope I am not going to get dumped here, it really is a bloody long way back home. Swivel round Eva, look him in the eye. Jesus. Right back at me like he is trying to work out if I am for real, or perhaps whether he can believe anything I say, apart from the moaning side of things that is. This isn’t looking good. “Ned, hold it!” his voice loud in the still flat night air sails above my head before he brings his eyes back to mine. “Alright now…I need to know about these things- these CCtv cameras or whatever it is yer called them, and what was that other thing?” “The internet…?” “Aye. That” I really am shaking my head “Who the hell are you? Where have you been for the last ten years?” He is looking at the sky again now, seems to do that a lot, perhaps he is trying to remember how to find the Southern Cross after all. “We have been right here…just a different time is all, like I told you. Look lass we really are…” Mr Hair just cleared his throat and there you go- another one of them looks. “Alright well lets go knock up the landlord in the Royal Mail, he’ll just be pleased of some custom anyways, and then you can tell me all about how easy it will be fer us to get caught with this camera thing”  I wish that didn’t sound so challenging, I would much rather be telling him something else, like how easy it would be for me to kiss him right now, like how friggiing beautiful he is in the shadows with all his curls gone every which way in the wind and his jacket all open. He is breathing shallow, like animals do when they are ready for anything and I just want to touch him. Won’t bother with the how much my neck is aching turning round like this to see, doesn’t seem like the time nor place, so “Ok” comes out of my mouth instead. Nothing much happens in Jerilderie after 9, well before 9 either if the truth be told, but in the dead of night it might as well be a ghost town. From this end of the High Street I can see an occasional flicker of distant blue light through a blind in a window- some night owl watching reruns of chat shows, can hear the clunk a scabby dog pulling on a chain and the sound of wind blowing against the metal signs outside of shops. None of us are speaking, even these horses seem to know how to creep, their hooves just a dull thud on the ground. Ok so now I am a little scared, all these men are tense, watching like dingoes for any movement. Instinctively reaching for a hand I find his, only he doesn’t close his fingers around mine in a gesture of warming comfort, well he can’t, because he is holding a gun. “Holy Fuck….” HOLY FUCK, I had quite forgotten that I had been threatened before. “Ah now don’t worry yerself Eva, I don’t expect to be using it” he whispers in my ear. Oh that’s alright then, as long as you don’t intend shooting any one immediately, I am cool with that. What the hell…? But before I can launch into how guns really have no place in modern society, he is sliding off the saddle, leaving me stranded like a too bright cherry on top of the cake. The panic in my eyes evidently is causing some amusement at least, and a genuine smile at last! He reaches up his arms to catch me, firm and steady “Gotcha” as I slide rather ungainly down the full length of his body. Oh. Any other time in the last 48 hours or so I might have used the opportunity to slip my hands inside that jacket, but I am still thinking about that gun which rather foolishly appears to be lodged in the front of his trousers. I consider mentioning the disaster of an evening that might ensue, not to mention the loss of blood, and possible death but he isn’t concentrating on me, not one bit. In fact his eyes are flicking up the street, back to Ned and the others and tipping his head to indicate the back alley behind us, there is some quiet exchange before Dan and Steve take the reins of the four horses and disappear into the darkness. |