Big Book Of Lesbian Horse Stories Read Online Free

tossed his head when they trotted past one of the hurdles. She hoped Midge was right.
    When it was time for lunch, Midge went for sandwiches, beef brisket, “the best in town,” Midge said. Chopper was quietly munching hay in his stall, and even Midge relaxed as she looked out at the Manhattan skyline, chewing her beef brisket.
    â€œThis is nice, isn’t it?” she asked Jean with a smile.
    â€œIt sure is,” said Jean. She took a deep breath. “Say, Midge, I wanted to talk to you—” But before she could finish her sentence, an older man in a uniform approached them.
    â€œO’Brien,” he barked without preamble. “How’s the ankle?”
    â€œAll healed up, Captain,” said Midge, jumping to her feet.
    â€œGood,” said the man. “Because we’re shorthanded tonight. We have to use everyone.” He gestured at Jean. “This the new groom you were telling me about?”
    â€œYes sir.”
    â€œHmmmm.” His eyes swept Jean from head to toe, taking in the D.A., the grimy white T-shirt, the jeans with the long keychain, the scuffed black oxfords. Without another word he turned and walked away.
    Jean watched him go, indignation and fear churning inside her. “It’s a good thing this is temporary,” she finally said.
    â€œOh, don’t let the captain get to you,” Midge said apologetically. “He’s always like that, but he’s really a good guy.” Without pausing she continued, “You know, I’ve been meaning to talk to you, Jean, about your appearance.” Midge kept her eyes on her sandwich. “You’d probably get along better in this world if you changed your hairstyle a little bit—you know, to something more feminine—and got rid of that keychain—”
    Jean thought about little Lester Brown back in Doylestown who never grew to be more than four feet tall, and how it sometimes made folks uncomfortable to be around him until they got used to his looking a little different. But nobody ever asked him to wear platform shoes, or walk around on stilts, pretending to be tall. She crumpled the sandwich wrappings wordlessly. First it would just be changing her hair or her clothes, then it would be pretending to laugh when the policemen made jokes about “queers.”
    Just then, Jean spotted an attractive woman in her early thirties coming up behind Midge. Jean took in green eyes which matched the woman’s tailored skirt and jacket, and rich brown hair in a smart gamine style. As Jean watched, the woman put both hands over Midge’s eyes. “Guess who!” she sang out, the smile on her face leaving little doubt as to her feelings for Midge.
    â€œTilly!” Midge’s face relaxed into a smile, but the next moment it clouded over again. “You know it’s not a good idea to come to the stables.” Suddenly remembering Jean, she added nervously, “This is my roommate, Tilly. She’s . . . she’s allergic to horses. That’s why it’s a bad idea for her to come around here.”
    Tilly extended her hand with a smile. “You must be Jean. Midge has talked about you a lot.”
    Jean shook Tilly’s hand, then quickly made her excuses and left. She laughed bitterly at the feelings she’d had for Midge, at her thoughts of confiding in Midge. Midge, ashamed of a woman like Tilly, who clearly loved her so much. Jean knew now that she would get no help from Midge.
    That evening, she kept brooding about Midge and Tilly, and Chopper. She knew she should leave the job at the stables, but she couldn’t bear to abandon Chopper. She’d thought she was through with horses, through with hope and love, but he’d made her realize she wasn’t. Usually, Jean would tuck into the heaping plates of pasta that Luigi generously provided, always insisting that they were included in the price of the room, and she wouldn’t stop until