Free Big Book Of Lesbian Horse Stories by Alisa Surkis Page B

quickly explained. Peg wished that she could meet Pat’s tall, horse-loving sister—it seemed as if they had so much in common! Pat’s next words broke in on Peg’s thoughts.
    â€œLook, Peg, I’m no great shakes, but I can give you a whirl if you want to practice some of those dances. What do you say?”
    â€œGee, Pat,” said Peg, blushing a little, “that would be swell!”
    Pat led her to a darkened corner of the feed room, empty now before the monthly oat delivery. He switched on the small transistor radio, and twisted the dial until he found a slow fox-trot, then he took Peg in his arms. Pat held her firmly, and Peg responded immediately to the lightest pressure from his hand on the small of her back, the way Garbo responded to the pressure of Peg’s knees. To Peg, the smell of oats was better than the scent of flowers, and her feet felt lighter in her riding boots than they ever had in her pink evening shoes. She wished the dance would never end, that she and Pat could dance on and on, cheek to cheek. But at last the music swelled to a conclusion, and for a moment they stood in the circle of each other’s arms. “Those kids in your dance class don’t know anything,” said Pat, a little gruffly. “You have a natural sense of rhythm.”
    â€œI guess I’ve just found the right partner,” Peg said, boldly laying her head on his chest. But Pat flinched away. “C-c-careful,” he stuttered. “I have a sore spot there.” The moment was over, and when they said goodbye and Peg wheeled her bike up the drive, it was almost as if the dance had never happened. Yet in her bed that night, Journey to a Horse discarded by her side, Peg kept reliving those minutes when she had been in Pat’s arms. Suddenly, a daring plan came into her head—she would ask Pat to the Fall Frolic!
    In the light of day, Peg was not so sure about her plan. She had never asked a boy to anything in her life. And Pat was sometimes so strangely distant—did he really like her as much as she liked him? Peg was still pondering her dilemma that afternoon as she worked attaching paper edelweiss to long lengths of green wire. Her thoughts were so intent on Pat that Nancy, the head of the decorations committee, had to call her name twice before she looked up. “Hey, Peg, come back from dreamland,” Nancy chided her. “I asked you if you’d gotten your frock for the Frolic yet?”
    â€œOh, sorry!” Peg exclaimed.
    â€œPeg was dreaming about her date,” Doreen said with a spiteful giggle.
    â€œYes, Peg, is he a bay, or a chestnut?” Marjorie chimed in, and the two of them collapsed in helpless laughter.
    Wooden-faced, Peg continued twisting wires together as Nancy tactfully changed the subject. Inside she vowed to herself, “I’m tired of being the odd girl out. I will invite Pat to the Fall Frolic, and I’ll show them all!”
    The next day at the stables, Peg marched up to Pat before she could lose her nerve, and said nervously, “Pat, would you be my date for the Fall Frolic?”
    The saddle soap fell from Pat’s grasp and he bent to pick it up. When he looked at Peg again, his face was unreadable. “I’d like to, Peg,” Pat began, “but I’m afraid it’s impossible.”
    â€œNever mind!” Peg said, humiliated. “I—I’ve got to go curry Merrylegs!” Awkwardly, she backed out of the stall, her cheeks crimson. She suddenly realized that a boy as handsome as Pat was sure to have a girl in Havertown.
    â€œWait a second, Peg.” Pat caught up with her as she reached the tack room, and grasped her arm. “You don’t understand—I really do want to take you to the Frolic. But I wouldn’t be doing you any favor if I did.”
    Peg furrowed her brow. What could Pat mean? Then suddenly she knew! He’d heard her talking often enough about her