“Hey, Bea, let’s go horseback riding sometime. I got some new duds and I want to try them out.”
An innocent enough request Bea thought, though she never saw the appeal to them. “Sure. Why not?” She said, twisting the cord of the phone idly around one finger.
So there she was, standing on Ava’s front porch in her boots and breeches and riding jacket with her whip and riding hat tucked under her arm, and her prized black mare tied up in the front garden.
And there Ava was, opening the door and then standing there looking cockily in tasseled jeans and chaps and cowboy boots with a cowboy hat in one hand.
“You’re kidding me right?” Said Beatrice, raising a significantly raised eyebrow. “You’re not going riding like that!”
Ava grinned happily at her. “I wouldn’t go riding in anything else. Ain’t you ever seen a cowgirl before?”
“Not in my life.” Beatrice said dryly. “What can possibly be the point of all that? You look like a clown.”
“Hey, well you look ridiculous yourself. No need to go insulting me. Oh check ‘em out! Awesome, right?” She stuck out a heel and Beatrice looked disdainfully at the gaudy spurs attached to her boots.
“The poor horse,” she said, “you shouldn’t need all those spikes to control it- but then again, you’ve always been lacking in finesse.”
“Alright alright, get your skinny butt onto that wimpy saddle of yours and show me what you got.” Ava grinned and had to resist the urge to pat that part of Beatrice, but she had that feeling that if she didn’t control that impulse, she would be beheaded, shot or beaten to death with Bea’s riding whip.
Beatrice shook her head and walked back to her mare’s side, mounting it elegantly. She picked up her reins and and collected herself, but when she looked up she saw Ava still leaning against the side of the porch, watching her. “Are you coming or not?”
“Right, just a moment. Ava disappeared around the side of the house, jingling as she went. She reappeared leading a tall, 16.2 hh chestnut. On its back was the worst perversion of a saddle Beatrice had ever seen.
“Are you really that bad at riding?” Asked Beatrice, honestly shocked this time. There had to be at least two very thick pads underneath a mammoth of a saddle that looked like it would take actual effort to fall out of. There were tassels and silver decorations on the sides and a strange thing that that piled up at the front.
“No, Beatrice, I’m actually quite good, if I do say so myself.” The horse tried to eat the tassel on her shirt and she heaved the horses head off of her. “This here saddle is made for bucking broncos. My horses have power.” She mounted the horse and tapped it eagerly with her spurs. The horse leaped forward.
“Over- eager as always,” Beatrice muttered, and followed in a an elegant, controlled gait.
Ava reined her horse in and was waiting as impatiently as her horse for Beatrice to catch up. When she did, Ava urged her horse forward more smoothly than before and they matched paces - though they were using different gaits, which irritated them both a bit until they figured out how to go at the same speed regardless. When they’d finally matched speeds, Ava called out to Beatrice “I like the boots.”
“What?”
“Your boots. I’ve always been a little jealous of them.”
“Why don’t you just wear proper clothes then?”
“They don’t suit me.”
“Proper clothes have always suited you.”
“Your kidding?” She yelled, laughing. “Way too uncomfortable. And you’ve always looked better in black leather than me.”
Beatrice turned bright red. “What?” She yelled over the wind.
“You’re so proper and polished. I can’t be bothered with that kind of thing at all. Way too restricting.”
“I know that.”
“Hey how ‘bout a race?”
“My racing horse against that thing? Bring it on,” said Beatrice but Ava had already spurred her horse on and yelled “Yee-haw!” Beatrice cursed and followed her. Since she didn’t know where the finish line was supposed to be, she lost.
“You can’t just make up rules so you can win,” she told Ava crossly.
“Oh but I can,” Ava said with a wink. “Enough of that, though. Let’s just walk.” Beatrice nodded and tightened up her form. She glanced over at Ava.
“Ava, at least sit up properly. And are you seriously not wearing a riding hat?”
“Whatever. It’s not like I’m going to die from falling off a horse.”
“Tsk.” Beatrice could never understand why Ava could be so careless. There was a certain charm about it, she supposed, but it was so… illogical. She rlly could die. It was unlikely, but that wasn’t what mattered.
“Ah fresh air. I love living here. Ava was smiling contentedly as she gazed at the rolling plain around them and the gorgeous blue sky.
“It is pleasant.” Beatrice thought it looked a little too big to be honest, but she did love the sunshine. A warm breeze rolled over them and ruffled her horse’s mane. “Would cattle ranchers actually wear what you are wearing? It doesn’t seem practical or safe in the slightest.”
“Well, they wouldn’t have dressed quite as nicely, and I doubt they had spurs as nice as these ones”- she wiggled her feet- “but pretty much. Living on horseback in the wide open range… The day the frontier was closed was a sad one.”
“I can imagine.” And Beatrice could. Being told that she could no longer go at a break-neck pace must’ve been hard for Ava.
“We should start heading back. It’s hot out.”
“Alright.” Beatrice would never admit it, but she was starting to sweat a bit more than she liked. They wheeled their horses around.
“Oh so I heard from Camila that Lilith was trying to steal her. Can you believe that Lilith tried to seduce Camila?”
Beatrice scoffed. “You weren’t around then, but Lilith had her eye on her ages ago.”
“But who would want her? She’s a little brat!”
“You were something of a brat yourself,” Beatrice said. “Correction: Are.” She drew out the syllable, knowing her accent always made Ava smile. To her surprise she saw Ava shiver and blush? Oh god she thought. I hope she didn’t think I was making a comparison between her and Lilith. Shit. “I mean you know how Lilith is. She’ll do anything for attention.”
“Yeah, I don’t know why I’m surprised,” Ava laughed.
Beatrice breathed a sigh of relief. Crisis averted. “So you really ride horses that try to buck you off on purpose?”
“Yeah. It’s a real thrill.” Ava grinned. “I’d like to see you try it.”
“It sounds ridiculous, horsemanship is about working together to form a partnership, so you both stay in control.”
“You and control. Not everything is about obeying rules, Beatrice. Come on! The world’s so big!” She threw her arms around in the air enthusiastically.
“I prefer quality over quantity, but I know you prefer it the other way.”
“But mastering something that is wild is a way better measure of power than just following the rules.”
“Mastering something wild to form a partnership so the horse is willing to do it, not just having it obey you is the proper measure of power.”
“You’re wrong, once you can do that, it’s just boring- where’s your sense of adventure and fun? Come on Bea you always talk about wanting a challenge!”
“Well actually going where you want in a controlled manner is a lot more fun than being out of control at break neck speeds.”
Ava made a derisive noise. “Whatever. Look we’re home.” She pulled her horse up to a halt and dismounted. She ran her hands through its mane and murmured, “good girl.”
“You know,” Beatrice said as she slipped of her own horse, “you’ll still always be wrong of course, but I can see why it appeals to you. You seem very happy.”
Ava turned away as she started smiling and began to lead her horse back to its stable. “Bring yours around when you’re done, there’s a spare one on the right.”
Beatrice nodded and gathered her reins before following Ava. They both untacked their horses in silence and Beatrice watched Ava work. She certainly did know what she was doing, but there was something therapeutic with each stroke she made.
“Ha, beat you!” Ava said as she carelessly tossed her curry-comb into the bucket. “See ya inside!”
Beatrice took her time putting away her horse’s tack. When she was finished she removed her riding hat. Her hair was matted and sweaty, but she tried to ring out the worst of the moisture and fluff up her hair. But it was no use, it still looked just as flat. She didn’t know where to put her hat and riding whip, so she took them inside and placed them by the door. She realised she still had her gloves on, so took them off and set them with everything else. She looked up to see Ava starting at her. She blushed and patted her hair self-consciously.
“Fresh apple juice,” Ava said raising a glass. Beatrice came over and took it, sitting down next to her. Ava leaned back against the sofa with a sigh and took a long slurp drink of her apple juice, tossing her head back. “Tsk,” said Beatrice, and she sat up straight, crossing her legs. She took a delicate sip of her apple juice and caught Ava looking at her again. “Man you are so uptight all the time.”
Ava was really starting to get on her nerves. “Excuse me for having manners.”
“It’s not always a bad thing. You’ve got… class.”
Beatrice had blushed a little at that. What was up with the almost-complements all of a sudden? She looked down and saw that Ava had taken off her chaps, but she was still wearing her boots complete with spurs. “You aren’t going to remove your spurs?”
“No way. They’re awesome.” She took another gulp of her apple juice. “So be honest- What did you think of my outfit?”
Beatrice thought for a moment. “Very much your style,” she said finally. “It does seem like it would be more utilitarian than proper attire, what with the cattle-ranching. I honestly can’t imagine you wearing what I wear anyway.” She drew out the word “can’t” just a little bit, feeling it roll off her tongue. She glanced at Ava; she was looking at her strangely. “What?” Beatrice said crossly.
“Do you do that on purpose? Draw out your accent like that?”
“What? No. Well, a little. Why? You used to think it was funny.” Beatrice frowned at her glass of apple juice.
“You really don’t know what kind of effect it has?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Never mind.” Beatrice made a noise of frustration but Ava ignored it. “How’s the weather been at your place?”
“The usual. We had a sunny day last week, though.”
Ava shook her head in mock dismay. “My goodness, a sunny day.”
“It was very pleasant,” said Beatrice haughtily, pretending to be offended. “We even had tea in the garden.”
“With cyclones to?”
Beatrice gave up pretending to be serious and rolled her eyes. “Scones, Ava.”
“Oh yeah, those things. Hey, do you fancy a snack? I think I must have something here… somewhere.” She disappeared off into the kitchen, her heals clicking on the floor. And then reappeared with a plate of-
“Are those biscuits? They look huge!”
“They look nothing like biscuits… they are cookies.”
“I wasn’t talking about your biscuits-“ she leaned forward to take one and saw Ava staring at her yet again. “What?”
Ava grinned. “It’s just too tempting. You’re just leaving yourself wide open.”
“For what?”
Ava slid onto the sofa, still holding the tray in one hand. She put her other arm on the back of the sofa and leaned in close to Beatrice, looking at her intensely. “You know, I could always take you for a ride sometime… just not on horseback…”
Beatrice blushed and tried to cover it up by scowling. “Ava you’re an idiot, I hope you know that.”
She laughed. “I know, right? Have another cookie.”
“No thanks.”
“Aw, come on! You’re not mad at me are you? I wasn’t being serious. Here. I’ll be serious now, okay?” She put the tray down.
Beatrice looked at Ava. She was looking back at Beatrice, and her brown eyes really did look serious for once. Her hair was tousled and her neck was slightly damp, but she didn’t look nearly as uncomfortable as Beatrice felt in her jacket and breeches. The first few buttons of her shirt was undone, and Beatrice could see the tendons in her neck move as she turned to face her. Her sleeves were rolled up to her elbows and her forearms were noticeably muscled. “You really have grown up.” Beatrice said finally. “There was a time when I never thought you were cable of being serious.”
Ava’s expression changed very slightly. She no longer looked concerned, but now rather focused. She leaned forward and put a hand on the back of Beatrice’s head, and Beatrice let her because she knew that whatever Ava was doing she wasn’t joking. Ava kept leaning forward, and then very, very slowly kissed her.
Beatrice had always supposed that kissing Ava would feel like the sloppy kisses Ava had given her on the cheek when she was just goofing around. But somehow between then and now, apparently, Ava had figured it out, because she was doing a very, very nice job.
Their lips seemed to separate but Ava wasn’t pulling away. Instead she leaned in closer and breathed very softly into Beatrice’s ear. Beatrice felt a fire start there and run the length of her body, settling somewhere below her stomach. When Ava did pull away, they were both extremely flushed and Ava was grinning in an unbearably happy manner.
“What now?” Demanded Beatrice, suddenly extremely self conscious.
“You definitely kissed me back,” said Ava, and before Beatrice could respond she started to tackle her.
“I thought I taught you how to be a gentleman,” Beatrice said dryly when she got a chance.
“Obviously it didn’t work.” Ava began to kiss Beatrice’s jawline, breathing on her skin softly as she did so.
“Obviously. Oh be careful, you’re going to knock over the apple juice.”
Ah-pple juice. Ava shivered and and stopped what she was doing. She sat back and looked at Beatrice. “Okay you have to be doing that on purpose now.”
“Doing what?” demanded Beatrice.
“The accent thing.”
“What accent thing? That’s my voice, how I talk!”
“Tahlk,” said Ava, unintentionally butchering the accent completely. “You’re killing me here.”
“Seriously Ava! This is getting ridiculous!”
“You and Camila have known each other for a long time, right. Hasn’t she ever made a pass at you?”
“What? She’s never said anything even remotely close to that before.” Beatrice was quickly turning bright red. “You know she hasn’t.”
“What kind of things has she said to you then? And you’re sure that she’s never told you how sexy your accent is?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Seriously? You don’t know that?”
“Ava!” Beatrice was practically squirming underneath her.
“Well it is,” said Ava, and she kicked off her cowboy boots.
Five minutes later, Beatrice was flat on her back with Ava on top of her. Her riding jacket was crumpled in a heap on the floor. Beatrice slid the two rings Ava was wearing off her fingers and stretched backwards to place them on the table. Ava took the opportunity to start kissing the part of her collarbone that was exposed.
“Hey, wait Ava,” said Beatrice. “Let me get my boots off.”
Ava pinned her arm down to the arm of the sofa. “Don’t you dare take those boots off,” she growled.
“Gosh, Ava,” said Beatrice, looking at her with a smirk. “I didn’t know things like that ah-ffected you so.”
Ava made sure that was the last either of them said for quite some time.