Love at the Stables

Matt was an experienced horseman, as many of the veterans of the Great War expected a young, enterprising lieutenant and leader of men to be. As a personal challenge, he had jumped at the chance of joining the prestigious Equestrian School to test himself against the best horsemen and women the country could offer. The estate included several rings, a racetrack, two showgrounds and access to the surrounding countryside which consisted of handsome wooded hills and cool streams. Everyone that had dared to enter into a personal competition with the barrister’s keen son usually came second. Some School members of higher status had even been alerted of his rise in reputation as a professional rider. One of his proudest accomplishments included beating a Captain of the local Light Horse brigade in a judged competition of show jumping. He had lost some challenges to seriously experienced men and women who were simply more used to a saddle as a difference in age of 10 years might do. Still, nobody dared to question the skill and tact he used when he hopped into the saddle. He knew how to draw a proud stallion in until it trusted him blindly, responded to every whim without hesitation and allowing the thoroughbred to relax as it humbled itself under the assuring hand of a confident master. The few young ladies that were part of the School paid him abundant attention. A specific trio of them had figured out that his strength laid in driving the horse over rough terrain through shallow ravines and over hedges. They often challenged him in a playful manner to reckless dashes over the countryside. He leapt at the opportunity to toy with them by outrunning his willing opponent and then waiting patiently for the lass to catch up before rearing the horse on its hind legs and pulling away in dramatic fashion. This blatant show of dominance awed any female who witnessed it.

***

On one pleasantly sunny day, a young brunette arrived spewing gravel from under her tires in front of the clubhouse. She was driving an Invicta 1933 model, specialised for racing in the Low Chassis configuration. Matt had been sitting at a table inside the prestigious clubhouse with some of his horse riding buddies as they drank and conversed, giving the room a spirited atmosphere. He had immediately looked up as the shadowy green vehicle pulled into view. The captivating, elegant figure exited the vehicle, pulled the driving gloves from her hands and stowed them away. When she entered the clubhouse, she took of her sunglasses; revealing snow-blue eyes that contrasted her luscious brown hair in a fantastically striking way. She was dressed in her riding breeches and boots with a fine white blouse, all of which accentuated her youthful and clearly aristocratic beauty. Peter, one of Matt’s less outspoken mates was the first to react to the new arrival. “Will you look what the cat dragged in,” he said as every man at the table sat with their jaws virtually hanging between their feet. “If it isn’t the daughter of the Duke of London,” another chimed in. Matt was the first to pull his wits together. He swiftly finished the rest of his drink and headed towards the stables. He had only just finished riding and one of the stable-hands would be brushing his horse, but he had to find an excuse to be her first acquaintance at the School. He remembered that he kept a comb for himself in his saddle at all times. To complete the approach he ruffled up his long hair, wetted it ignorantly with water from one of the troughs and proceeded to find his horse’s stable. He arrived at his horse’s stable and touched its muzzle gently while looking into its eyes. Recognising a certain level of guardedness in her eyes that women of stature often possessed, he bowed humbly towards her and held out his hand. She presented it courteously as they exchanged formalities and Matt made sure to compliment her choice of horse and riding boots. Matt found his interest further peaked when she introduced herself as Isla. He could not help but wonder if her dreamy blue eyes were of Viking descent. She was as innocent as a dove, which was something that excited Matt for a reason that he could not grasp himself. He suddenly decided to go out on a whim and offered to show her around the countryside and the infrastructure of the School. He knew that she would have been on an extensive tour of the facilities already, but he promised to tell her about some of the people that worked there and the other riders. She had been practicing excellent discipline thus far by not showing how flattered she was by his complete attention, but couldn’t help blushing when he lifted her into her saddle in the courtyard and their eyes met. Matt could not believe himself as his own stomach turned when he gazed at her charming face. They trotted through the yard, made to exit the large compound and accelerated into a gallop. Matt decided to show her one of the lesser-known paths that twisted and turned through shadowy meadows alongside a stream. As they progressed along the way he told her about his family and his occupation in the military. They laughed at the horses when the two animals started rubbing their necks against each other as they paused, allowing them to drink. They rode leisurely back to the estate after a few hours had passed and promised each other another trip into the countryside. That evening, Matt was lying in his bed and caught himself conjuring up the day’s events, smiling to himself as sleep eluded his youthful mind. He had never felt this way about a girl before, and he had not even tried to seal his interest with a kiss.

***

The following morning, his Division’s messenger came to fetch him with orders to assemble with the rest of their squadron at the barracks pending immediate deployment in Belgium. Finally, England had decided to become involved in the war against the Germans. When he arrived with the men, he could sense an air of despair and foreboding and cracked a few jokes in an effort to lift the spirits. The very next morning, they were walking to the docks on horseback in a deployment parade. People lined the streets of the city and waved handkerchiefs from balconies as they wished the soldiers good fortune. At the docks, they dismounted and handed their horses over to allow the navy to place them on board. Some wives were taking the chance to say their last goodbyes to the men. There were a lot of tears. Suddenly he was aware of her behind him and a smile spilled across his face like cool water when she hugged him tightly. Both seemed a little overwhelmed by their own reactions to their attraction but the moment could scarcely be more weighted by words. Afterwards, she gave him her colour, the coat of arms of her father’s house and asked him to return with it if he valued her at all. He promised to do so and waited until she had disappeared from sight before he folded the piece of cloth and placed it in his left shirt pocket, closest to his heart. When his ship sailed out of port, he longed for her and prayed that he would return victoriously to the country that he loved so fervently.