The Filly
Page 16
“You understand that there is no expiration date on their contracts,” said lady G. “A commodity like that doesn’t come cheap.”
Sarah shrugged. “That goes without sayin’.”
Morgan swallowed a cheer. Sarah expected her to display proper decorum after all, and revenge, however sweet, is petty. Her only regret was that Lady G was apparently about to profit from her treachery, at least for the time being.
Her joy was also clouded somewhat by the news that Mr. Frisk was dying. He had rescued her twice, once deliberately and again as a side effect of his generosity to Sarah. It was a debt that Morgan would never be able to repay.
Sometimes you have to be grateful for what life gives you and move on. She reminded herself.
“I have a considerable investment in these girls.” Lady G was mentally calculating, trying to estimate how much money she might tap from this situation. “I have training expenses, recruitment, housing...”
Sarah was busy with her checkbook while Lady G spoke. She tore out a check and dropped it on the tray as the maid passed by with canapés.
“I think that this should cover it.”
She didn’t need to tell the maid what to do with the check. The girl had ears, and had no doubt been following this meeting with interest. She minced over to Lady G and presented the tray with a little bow.
Lady G accepted the check gingerly, as though expecting some sort of insult. What she saw written on it made her smile broadly.
“I think that this will be adequate.”
Tinka began to sob. A girl as pretty as she was had no doubt melted many icy hearts with her tears. This time, Morgan believed, they were going to be wasted.
Dusk began to curse softly under her breath. She was already beginning to realize that any outbursts she made now were likely to be remembered later—and suitably punished.
Lady G dismissed the matter with a shrug. “Sorry, girls. It’s just business, nothing personal.”
Sarah turned to one of her bodyguards.
“Would you see to having these two crated up for shipment?”
His answering smirk told Morgan that this was a duty he was looking forward to. He would do as Sarah asked—eventually. It was likely that at least one of these pony girls had caught his eye, and he wouldn’t waste an opportunity to sample the merchandise. It would give the ladies a taste of their future life on the Bar-S Ranch.
“I’ll see to it, Ma’am.”
There was a shopping bag beside Sarah’s chair. She picked it up and dropped it into Morgan’s lap.
“I hope I got your sizes right. It ain’t high fashion, but you won’t freeze on the way back.”
“Am I really going home then?” Morgan asked.
“If you mean back to the Bar-S, then the answer is yes.” Sarah raised an ironic eyebrow and Morgan realized her error. She had another home somewhere, but the memory of it was dim now. She would go there again someday, but only as a visitor. The place no longer had any hold on her.
“I do have a ranch to run, after all.” Sarah was too proud to speak of the things that were really in her heart, but her eyes were shining as she touched Morgan’s cheek.
“And Button has been mooning around like a sick calf ever since you were stole.”
Epilogue
Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch
It was a lovely day at the Bar-S Ranch. The frost of the night before had steamed away in the morning sun, leaving a freshness in the air that Morgan savored as she waited for Sarah. Beside her, Button was grinning around her bit. There was a red rash around her mouth. Morgan guessed that she probably wore one to mirror it. They had spent a long and wakeful night in Sarah’s bed, pleasuring their Mistress and each other, and neither of them minded missing the sleep.
The door to the ranch house opened and Sarah stood a moment on the porch, admiring her team. The new groom that she had hired to replace Soupcan enjoyed leatherwork and had a flair for design. He had outfitted the pony girls with a red leather harness that was beautiful without being showy, a spare and functional creation that was flattering to the female form. They were magnificent.
“Show me what my ponies can do now.”
Sarah’s weight settled into the seat. The cart was well balanced. When Sarah stepped into it and settled herself into the seat, Morgan and Button felt her presence only as a slight tremor vibrating the shafts in their hands. The whip cracked above their heads, and they started off in a perfectly synchronized trot, through the paddock and between the fence rails flanking the drive.
Dusk and Tinka were tilling in the garden as the cart clattered by. They wore a heavy pulling harness, and strained to draw a single bottom plow. A wiry troll of a man drove them with a willing hand. Tinka’s sunburned skin was vivid with bright whip trails. Dusk was sun blackened. Her skin showed only the raised ridges of welts. Morgan knew that their drover was proud of his monstrous cock, and demonstrated his stamina often. They would be weary tonight, but they would still be expected to satisfy him.
They would do penance for a time, but Mistress was not vindictive, and there were only so many acres of garden to till. When they were fully broken, eager to serve, and truly grateful for the opportunity to finally prove their loyalty; Dusk and Tinka would be forgiven. Sarah would know when. Sarah always knew.
The bits jerked in the pony girl’s mouths as Sarah snapped the reins and clicked her tongue. Morgan and Button exchanged knowing glances. Mistress wanted speed. They would give it to her.
Moving as one they dropped their heads, stretched their long brown legs, and leaped ahead, knowing that special grace of healthy animals who strive for the sake of a beloved Mistress. Morgan felt as she often did in dreams, as though she were a wind born dandelion seed, drifting lazily, yet blown along with amazing and effortless speed, achieving escape velocity at last.
Morgan set her course and took flight.
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