Read Sapphic Cowboi Online

Authors: K'Anne Meinel

Tags: #romance, #erotic, #love, #women, #horses, #lesbian, #cowgirl, #sapphic, #boi, #butch, #kanne meinel, #cowboi, #friesian

Sapphic Cowboi (3 page)

They all listened enthralled as Cecil told of
places he had seen and things they had done in the circus, making
it all sound intriguing and exciting and only elaborating a little.
It was no wonder many poor kids during the depression ran off and
joined the circus. Not realizing that there was a lot of hard work
involved they were frequently disappointed, none of the fame or
fortune or excitement they expected materialized. The townies
listening though and had enough gossip to share for coming years
and they listened avidly.

After their pie was gone, Maggie left a dime
for Mrs. Baxter even though an entire meal would have been a
quarter or even fifty cents depending on the size of the meal, and
got up with Cecil to discuss a few remaining details. She and her
horses would have a railroad pass from Jackson and would meet up
with the circus which was traveling in the Northeast right now and
heading west. They sat out on the wide porch and watched the horses
waiting patiently in the twilight.


Amazing animals” Cecil said
admiringly. They were held there by an invisible bond, ten
perfectly behaved horses, not moving other than to shift their
weight occasionally or to swat their tails at the ever present
flies, waiting on this woman, tied without being tied. He was
impressed. “How many will you be bringing for the show?” he asked
and looked around for one of the dogs, relieved not to see
either.


I thought a dozen would be
more than enough, I have more but there are a few young ones and
they aren’t ready” she answered honestly.

They talked about what she would need which
had been outlined in the contract and Cecil promised that he would
leave word in Jackson for her to be provided with two railroad cars
and food and fodder for her horses. He did ask that she provide
them with halters and gear, the circus would purchase the feathers
and ornaments for the horses but she would have to teach them not
to be afraid of those things or the crowds. Watching the contented
horses waiting patiently for the woman though he didn’t have a
doubt that it would be no problem to train them for the act, he
watched as they ignored a sputtering car that went put-putting
behind them on the road, none of them flinching, barely flicking an
ear, only whipping their tails occasionally at a pesky or
persistent fly.


Well Maggie, it’s been a
sincere pleasure to meet you, I’ll see you in two weeks” Cecil
shook her hand and thought briefly how much of a shame it was that
she didn’t have the looks necessary to perform in the ring with her
horses. They could glam her up a bit and would for the show but she
wasn’t womanly enough to draw the men and woman who would pay to
see a beautiful woman perform with the black horses.

Maggie effortless bounded onto the back of
one her horses and they turned as one and headed up the street,
tightly packed, intimidating, and yet so very free with their heads
held high and their tails streaming out behind them in their trot.
Cecil watched in awe as they behaved with invisible strings and no
apparent control. The woman was amazing and he hoped his father and
brother would appreciate her as much as Cecil did. This act and the
others he had signed meant a sizeable addition to their small
circus but he felt it was worth it. He hadn’t cheated Maggie as
much as he had the others, after all money was business, but there
was enough for her and the dozen horses she would be bringing with
her and they would make it back after a few performances, he could
already visualize the posters and banners they would make to draw
in the crowds.

 

A week later Maggie had her
things packed into two duffel bags. One contained changes of
clothing, she had ‘indulged’ and bought a couple of more pairs of
dungarees and shirts, as well as some personal items. The other
contained things she would need for the horses, medical supplies,
bandages, and other thing she had packed, it was heavier than her
personal things but for her beauties nothing was too good. She had
a saddle on Ebony, one of the geldings she bringing, in fact most
of the dozen she was bringing were geldings and only a few mares.
No stallions with their fractious personalities. All of her
geldings were ‘gelded with pride’ which meant they retained certain
parts of their personalities that a stallion contained but didn’t
lose their ‘spirit’ with the gelding. They still had tempers and
were a bit strong willed but Maggie handled them effortlessly or
perhaps they handled
her
.

The horses she had chosen were acting up,
sensing something was in the air. Maggie had put halters on all of
them and looped ropes through all of them loosely. She knew she
could have left them without any of these contraptions on them and
had done so many times riding into town but she was going much
further than town and she didn’t trust other people around her
babies and this way they were vaguely protected by being tied
together. She had her certificates of ownership for all the horses,
her local doctor, also the local vet, had written them out for her.
She didn’t know what kind of slicksters she would run into in the
big cities but she had been warned against them. Several
well-meaning friends and townies had warned her about going into
the big cities but she knew they also were curious about what she
was planning to do, some about the farm, some about her horses, but
most of it was for gossip. A small town was ripe with gossip and
hers was no different.

Peter had been terrific,
coming over to talk over their plans for the crops and horses and
taking one or two of the younger ones back to his place to work
with and protect. They were valuable and as Maggie wouldn’t be here
he wanted to be sure she would have them to come back to. Maggie
was leaving one of her two dogs at the farm, both of them long
haired beasts, similar to golden retrievers in temperament and size
but totally black. Some people called them flat-coated retrievers.
Maggie didn’t care what breed they were but she loved them as much
as her horses. She knew leaving one of them and taking the other
would be hard on both of them but she wanted the one with her to
help with her horses if she needed it and for additional protection
although if someone messed with her the horses would take care of
them, she just wouldn’t
be
with the horses all the time. As an after-thought
she also had her father’s pistol packed in her duffel if need
be.

It would take her two days to reach Jackson
even if she changed the saddle to another fresher horse midway. She
wasn’t going to rush them or take the main highway which was why it
would take longer with the route she was taking. She didn’t want
this many valuable horses that visible, there were a lot of out of
work people on the roads these days and being a woman alone who
knew what they might think they could get away with. She was going
by the back roads that she knew that would get her there much more
safely if by a longer route. She was also leaving sooner than
anyone expected to catch the freight cars that had been put aside
for her. Cecil had written and Peter had read the letter telling
her that the arrangements were made and he would see her in Ohio
where the cars would travel and she would meet up with the circus.
He also wrote that he might have a woman willing to work with her
and do the part of the act. He had been very careful how he
approached Maggie on that part of the deal not sure how she would
react to another person involved with her terrific horses or how
she would feel about her own looks but Maggie was fine with what
they had planned. She didn’t want to be the center of attention
anyway or wear the outfits Cecil had outline and she was curious
who this woman was or what she looked like.

Maggie looked around the farm one last time
as the sun came slightly over the horizon lightening up the yard
enough that she could look. This had been her home for over twenty
some years. She had been raised here, her father, her grandfather
had all been born on this very farm. The O’Malley’s had emigrated
from Ireland way back when and wanting to avoid Boston where masses
of Irish immigrants headed as well as New York had taken a boat to
the far south and come up the Mississippi to find their own lands.
They had done well enough and kept to themselves raising fine crops
and fine horses. Mixing bloods of various breeds as they found
them, adding even a mustang or two to their beautiful lines,
creating a breed without a name, O’Malley horses were known for
their beauty, their stability, and their hard work but Maggie
looked on them as family. Her brothers and mother lost to what was
loosely termed ‘swamp fever’ she had always been hale and hearty
and her father’s hope for the future. He had hoped she’d find a
nice young man that would take on the O’Malley name and it wouldn’t
die out with him but his dreams were not to be fulfilled. Not that
there weren’t men about that would gladly have inherited the fine
farm, the beautiful and valuable horses, but Maggie hadn’t found
one that suited her and her father had died holding his hopes and
dreams inside.

Maggie had known her
father’s secret longings, a fine son, a fine grandson to take on
the O’Malley dreams. What he didn’t realize is that Maggie had
those dreams and ambitions herself. Raising fine horses and
training them had come naturally to the girl. But she was a girl
and therein laid the problem. She couldn’t carry on her family
name, she was
just
a girl, and she was only as good as the man she married.
Maggie knew that her brother’s death as well as her mother’s had
nearly defeated the proud Irish man that had been her father, but
he hadn’t known of her brother’s dislike for the farm, for the heat
of the south, for the animals that she and her father adored. He
would have sold the farm and the horses without a second thought.
Lost in her father’s grief Maggie had cut her hair and tried to be
the son he wanted, he didn’t even notice. He continued farming and
raising the fine beasts, imparting knowledge in his daughter
without giving it another thought, he didn’t see her for years
until she came of age and he began to think of finding her a
husband who could help carry on
his
dreams. He hadn’t realized Maggie would be so
off-putting to most men or even the boys he brought around. She
appeared to be a tom-boy that never grew up, dressed in men’s
clothing, and doing a man’s job. She had a fine face but as a
father he didn’t see why the men couldn’t see it, instead they saw
the fine farm, the fine horses, and stared in horror at the woman
they were expected to marry and bed. She competed with them in
their masculinity and few if any were brave enough to try and win.
The farm and horses were an enticement but the way her father had
left his property to his daughter and expected any son-in-law to
sign away his ‘rights’ as well as his name was an outrage that few
could get past, at least no one around their area had.

Maggie gazed around proudly, she had, she
thought, improved the farm since her father’s death, keeping the
long tall pines back from their hard won fight with the encroaching
woods. Forestry was big in this section of the south but with no
one working, no one was building the houses that needed such large
trees and such industry in this section of the state had come to a
screeching halt. Their own farm, hidden among the deep woods in
North West Alabama was a blessing to a horse breeder and farmer who
wanted to stay remote, unknown, and independent. They had always
raised enough to sustain themselves, pay their taxes, and remain
the way they always had been but with the Depression only getting
worse Maggie knew that having this many horses would be unfeasible,
with people changing over to automobiles from horses it would only
be a matter of time before she would have to get rid of more and
more of them. Meanwhile she would do what she had to, to prevent
losing what she did have.

She was sad as she turned to leave the farm
not knowing when she would return. She had never been gone from the
farm for more than a few days and never so far from it. She knew
her family friend Peter would look after things as well as her dog
who had looked sadly at her when told to stay. The horses going
with her were excited the others calling from the barns where she
had locked them to prevent any from trying to jump any fences.
O’Malley fences were taller than most for this very reason. She
trotted down through the back roads, avoiding the one into town as
well as the town itself as she headed north to Jackson. She kept to
a fast pace knowing she could make in one day if she wanted but
planning on stopping and resting with her family of horses before
arriving in the noisy town.

The day passed pleasantly as she jogged along
riding one of her favorite horses appropriately named Ebony. She
tried not to play favorites especially with this many horses whose
jealousies could cause problems but Ebony had been one of the first
horses that she herself had trained. Only four of the horses with
her had been trained by her father, the rest had all of Maggie
O’Malley’s style of training on them as well as the dog who trotted
obediently along with them trying to stay at Maggie’s right near
her stirrup. She kept their lead ropes loose so they could move
their proud heads and trot or jog along at their own pace, she
hated having to keep them tied but didn’t indicate it by any
action. At noon she stopped in the shade of some trees along a
creek and let the horses drink and eat at will keeping an eye out
for plants that would upset their stomach, plants that grew mainly
along creeks.

Maggie was pleased that she didn’t see too
many people as she made her way north, taking back roads she knew
and had used before. Only occasionally did she come across farms
that like hers were tucked away on these back roads in the middle
of nowhere, deep in the woods, or hidden among the hills. She was
saddened to see how many abandoned places she saw as well, the
owners unable or unwilling to try and outlast the financial
hardships that came in a poor community trying to survive in these
times. She realized she had had it better than most on her family
farm as she saw the poor, overgrown, and neglected farms she
passed. Few if any had people living on them and they peeked from
behind their fences, their curtains, or their buildings at the
intruder who passed with all those horses but kept on going. She
saw dirty children playing in the dust of Alabama, she saw sad
looking houses housing even poorer looking families, she saw the
forests taking back the once open fields slowly and surely. Mother
Nature could be cruel at times but she was relentless in taking
back the fields from neglected farms and pastures, trees springing
up in the oddest of places and if not kept up, taking over.

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