Page 27 of The Facilitator, Part 2

“Of course. Now, who do we have here for Lauren?” Mackenzie said.

“Jack?” Gabriella called out. An elderly man emerged from a stable. “My friend has never sat on a horse,” she said. He simply nodded before walking away.

A half hour later two horses were tacked up and standing near a concrete block.

“I thought you were coming with us?” I said.

“Alex just texted, he’s on his way, he’s been in town. I’d rather wait for him, if you don’t mind. Mackenzie knows this land like the back of his hand, he’ll take good care of you,” she said.

I was encouraged to stand on the concrete block and a horse, had it been human or Jack been equine, they could have been twins such was their aged look, stood beside it. I placed my foot in a stirrup and swung my leg over.

“Ooff!” I said, as I landed heavily.

“I’m sure old Murphy feels the same,” Jack said, with a deep throaty chuckle.

“Thank you, Jack,” I replied, with a laugh.

I liked him. He was that man I remembered from many a movie, the rugged, leather skin who spoke little but tended to the horses. Such a cliché, but that’s what he reminded me of.

Jack showed me how to hold the reins, to cluck my tongue to make Murphy walk. He doubted I’d be able to get him into a trot, and I was very thankful that would be the case. I could walk, I had absolutely no intention of doing anything more.

Mackenzie didn’t need the concrete step; he practically threw himself onto the saddle. Jack handed him a rope that was attached to the bridle of Murphy and off we went.

“How do you feel?” Mackenzie asked.

“Brilliant. I love this,” I said, gently patting Murphy on his neck.

“Want to try a little trot?”

“I don’t know…” Before I could finish, Mackenzie had kicked his horse into a trot, and poor old Murphy was dragged along behind.

I bounced, hanging on to the front of the saddle as if my life depended on it. Jack had told me what that part was called, but while my vagina was being battered as I was propelled up and down, its name completely escaped me. Mackenzie laughing wasn’t helping.

“Stop, please,” I said, trying not to laugh as well.

We came back to a walk. “Oh my God, my poor bits .”

“Bits?”

“You know,” I pointed to my bits.

“Then maybe I need to soothe those bits for you in a while.”

“Let’s just walk. I’m sure you’ll still need to do some soothing, the seam of these jeans is causing some friction as well.”

We continued for another hour or so, just walking and chatting.

While Mackenzie pointed out wildlife, we crossed a stream, rode up a hill and down another.

The sun beat down but it wasn’t unpleasant.

I loved every second of our ride. We came to a river, a faster running one, and stopped under the shade of a tree, Mackenzie slid from his horse.

“I don’t know how to get off,” I said.

“Feet out and swing your leg over the back of the saddle,” he said.

He reached up and as my knee caught on the back of the saddle and I was left dangling, he pulled me off and into his arms. He stumbled back, not expecting my less than elegant dismount. Once I was righted, I felt the ache between my thighs. I winced as I took a step into the shade of the tree.

“It feels good to get off,” I said. I lowered myself so my back was against the trunk.

Mackenzie let the horses graze. “Won’t they run off?” I asked.

“No, well, saying that, they haven’t before. Something could spook them, I guess.” He settled beside me.

“What would we do then?”

“Walk, wait for help.”

“No one will know where we are,” I said, feeling a little panic rising in my voice, and trying to remember if I’d read about any wild man-eating animals in this part of America.

“Well, then I’d just call them,” he said, laughing. “We’re not out in the sticks and we haven’t been transported back to the eighteen hundreds, either.” He waved his mobile phone at me.

I snuggled up against his side. He draped his arm around my shoulders and we just sat for a moment.

“I can’t imagine leaving somewhere like this for dreary old London,” I said.

“If I hadn’t, I would never have met you, would I?” He pulled me tighter to him.

“I can’t tell you how glad I am for that night,” I whispered.

“You do, every day you’re with me.”

We fell silent and just watched the horses. I could feel my eyelids start to close and I fought against it. I yawned, unsuccessfully hiding it from Mackenzie.

“We should head back. Vivienne wants us to dine with her, but I’ve said we need to head out to my house. I want to spend the night there, we’ll go see my dad in the morning.”

He pulled me to my feet and in the most ungainly, comical way, he pushed my bottom until I was lying over poor Murphy. Eventually, I managed to get myself into a sitting position. Mackenzie shook out his wrist, warding off a strained muscle.

“Maybe horse riding isn’t for you,” he said, with a laugh.

We followed the stream, which took us directly back to the house.

After handing the horses over to Jack, and giving Murphy a kiss on his whiskery nose, I waddled into the house where we met with a disappointed Vivienne after being told we weren’t staying.

When Mackenzie had told her he wanted me to see his childhood home, she perked up a little.

Of course, we’d be back for Gabriella and Alex’s party, he assured her.

Our suitcases were back outside on the veranda and a red car stood on the drive. Mackenzie loaded our cases on the back seat and patted the bonnet at he ran around the car to open the passenger door for me.

“Wow, what a stunning car,” I said.

“It’s a 1966 Mustang. She’s called Karen,” he said, stroking the bonnet lovingly.

I’d heard of the Ford Mustang, of course, but I was guessing this was a special car for Mackenzie. I’d never heard of anyone calling their car by a female name, though.

“Is it yours?” I asked.

“It was my mom’s originally, and she named her before you ask. It sat in a barn for years just rusting away, until I had it rebuilt.”

“Does it stay here?” I asked, as he revved the engine.

“No, I had someone bring it over for us. Ready?”

I nodded. Then I shrieked. I wasn’t sure Mackenzie needed to drive as fast back down the driveway as he had.

I was convinced he was showing off, but I laughed along with him.

The windows were wound down and the wind blew my hair around my face.

I held it to one side as Mackenzie slowed when we left the property.

We drove for no more than a half hour before he slowed the car to a halt at the side of the road.

In front was the coastline and its beauty stunned me.

“Mackenzie,” I whispered.

“I know. That view hits me in the chest every time.”

We didn’t speak anymore as he pulled onto an unmade side road.

He crawled the length until we rounded a corner and his house came into view.

Although a lot smaller, it resembled the property we had just left.

It was as beautiful, wooden with the same wraparound veranda.

Although there were no flowers or plants, the front area was just grass; I could see from the side and rear the garden was just an extension of the beach.

I stepped from the car and walked towards the sound of the sea.

The sun had started to lower and the shimmer of reds and oranges on the ocean was mesmerising. I stood and breathed in deep. Although less than an hour from Mrs. Collingsworth’s house, we could have been in a different state. I turned as Mackenzie stood beside me.

“I envy you this view, Mackenzie,” I whispered. He sighed.

I wasn’t sure what the sigh meant, but I wrapped my arm around his waist. I faced him, stood up on my tiptoes, and kissed him.

“Show me your house,” I said.

We walked to the house and he opened the front door with a key he’d taken from the car. The interior was open-plan and surprisingly modern. Whereas Mrs. Collingsworth’s house was full of antiques, Mackenzie’s was furniture from local makers, he told me.

“Wine?” he said, as I followed him to the kitchen.

As he’d expected, the fridge had been stocked and two bottles of red wine were standing on the counter. He picked one up and looked at the label. Satisfied, he opened a drawer and extracted an opener. I opened a couple of cupboards until I found some glasses.

“Who looks after the house when you’re not here?” I asked.

“My dad’s partner,” he said, as he poured.

“You didn’t say he’d met someone.” I took the glass from him.

“I didn’t? I don’t think I’ve really told you much about my family at all, have I?”

“No, and that’s okay. You asked me to Google you once; I did, so I knew about your car crash and your dad’s business before you’d mentioned those. But other than that…” I shrugged my shoulders.

He laughed. “I guess that was pretty arrogant of me, wasn’t it?” I nodded and he laughed some more. “Come on.”

We walked to the back of the property and followed the veranda to the side of the house. The view was stunning. We sat on wooden chairs and sipped our wine.

“My dad lives in a condo now, I think I told you that, on a seniors’ complex. Anyway, he met Sandra years ago, she nursed him after his heart attack, and I guess they fell in love .”

“You don’t believe they are?” I asked.

“I don’t know. She’s nice, I like her, and if she makes him happy then who am I to interfere?

I just think he never spent the time to grieve for my mother.

As soon as she died, it was as if she hadn’t existed and that hurt me considerably.

He had woman after woman, and he wanted me to respect them all.

I rebelled, obviously. We didn’t speak for a long time.

Sandra was the one who actually got us talking again, but I can’t completely forgive him.

So, it’s not Sandra I’m unhappy with, it’s my father. ”

“I can understand that, he’s an old man now, though. Maybe you should make your peace with him.”