Disclaimer: JAG belongs to DPB, Paramount, CBS et al. This is for fun, no copyright infringement is intended.
August 2007, Sunday
- Stables somewhere in Virginia, in the morning
"Huh!" Mac blinked several times the look on her face almost comical in shock. Webb laughed at her expression.
"Mac, close your mouth or you'll catch a fly. Stupid beasts are terrible anyway this summer no matter how early you get up."
Mac accepted his advice. Besides, the flies were really annoying. "You're doing this every time?"
"Of course. At first I was a bit worried he might step into a wheel and cut himself but he's doing just fine," Webb replied seriously and turned back to his task.
"Sure, he's doing just fine," Mac echoed with a trace of disbelief.
Heck, it really took some getting used to it to see a horse of impressive five feet six towering like a living mountain over a man in a wheelchair. Especially if the man had placed one hoof on his own thigh and was busy cleaning it out. The brown gelding - introduced to her as Laughing Jack or in short Jack - obviously didn't find it overly interesting ... and neither did anybody around her.
"Now seriously-" Webb eased the hoof off his leg and wheeled towards the next. "I wouldn't do that with any horse. Pearl over there would jump through the roof if I tried. If we were under a roof that is," he finished with a mocking glance skywards.
Mac looked at the elegant mare dancing nervously under the brush of a young girl and swallowed. Her "little sister" Chloe adored horses but her own feelings towards them were more ... divided. Looking at them from a distance was nice but sitting on them was a completely different thing. Not that she would ever admit that. And she DID get on one if necessary, had even crossed a desert in the company of a Bedouin tribe. She had never been to this stable with Webb when they had dated three years ago. Well, the time they had spent together had been rather limited due to Clayton's work. And her own too to be honest.
"You want to try?"
Webb's question brought her back to reality. Quickly she shook her head.
"Ah - no, thank you. I'll swing the broom instead."
She smiled as she heard his amused chuckle. She was surprised but it felt comfortable to be here ... together. Easy, relaxed ... natural. The awkward tension of the last evening seemed to be so far away in bright morning sunlight. And anything else had probably been just her imagination anyway. This was how it had to be. A host showing his guest around. Maybe ... a little bit like being friends.
"Jack, Jack, come down, good boy, good old boy..." Webb's voice casually soothed the horse as he expertly put on the bridle.
Once more Mac's brows rose in awe as the gelding calmly lowered his big head and held still while Webb adjusted the leather. Next was the harness and to her untrained eyes there seemed to be a terrible amount of straps and buckles. But soon Charlie - a young woman around twenty who had already cleaned the high parts of the horse - and Webb had everything fixed. Then he directed the gelding with a quiet command and a gentle swing at the reins backwards to the waiting carriage ... if carriage was the right word. The vehicle reminded of a sulky for trotting races but with a platform between the rubber wheels instead of a seat.
"Uhm, Clay... What IS this?"
"Homemade freedom."
"What?"
Webb chuckled again. "Wait, I'll explain in a second."
Somewhere in Virginia, a bit later
"I'm impressed!" shouted Mac over the steady rhythm of the hooves, now standing behind Webb's wheelchair on the platform of the moving two-wheel cart.
Looking down she considered once more the complicated system of straps and chains that secured the wheelchair to the platform although it left more than enough room for her feet. The narrow ramp that had allowed Webb to get on was now smoothly stashed away under the bottom. She tried to ignore that Jack's rear - moving up and down as he walked - seemed to be awfully close.
"And you really got this idea from a horse show you visited years ago in Europe?"
"Yes, I managed to track down the man I saw and we exchanged e-mails." Webb twisted his head around and glanced over his shoulder. "He was so kind to send some drawings and photographs. Charlie and her friends put it together and then we experimented a bit until we found the best combination for me."
The girl in question was following them in some distance with the hot mare. Obviously as a back-up for unexpected difficulties. The sulky rattled a bit on the uneven lane and Mac tightened her grip on the back of the wheelchair although she was standing surprisingly sure. At least as long as she kept her feet far enough apart, pressed them firmly onto the metal of the platform and did not forget to ride out the bumps with bent knees just as Charlie had explained to her. It was almost like skiing, really.
"I'm impressed," she repeated a second time.
Seeing a smoother part of the lane ahead she quickly lifted one hand and wiped off some of the sweat that was pouring from under the helmet. Webb had insisted on wearing them and there had been very little to argue with his dry - and rather drastic - remark that "you can live without legs or even arms but without a functioning brain it's rather difficult". Then she looked around again and took in the landscape they were driving through.
"It's really beautiful here."
"I'm glad you like it, it's one of my favorite routes." Webb smiled ahead. "It's sometimes difficult to find good roads for the sulky. More than for a rider anyway."
"Do you drive with all your horses?"
"At the moment only Jack but we're planning on training one of the others too."
It took Mac a moment to realize that he was referring to everybody at the stables with 'we'. She knew he didn't own the property but was on very good terms with the actual owners; in fact Charlie was their daughter. And there were more young people who took care of his horses probably for riding in return. She glanced down at him.
"And the rest?"
"Youngster is too old for work but I want him to have a good old age. At his time he was one of the best show horses I ever had. My dear little devil Pearl is definitely not made for a carriage, Charlie is taking her to competitions. Serena has been my mother's horse. She's the one we'll maybe drive in. Mother suggested it before..."
Webb abruptly shut his mouth and Mac didn't press. For a while Jack's hooves on the ground and the quiet tinkling of harness and wheels were the only sound. Mac inhaled deeply the already hot air. The smell of freshly cut grass tickled in her nose.
"Did you ever try to ride again after ... your accident?"
A moment she thought Webb wouldn't answer her soft question. But finally he sighed.
"No."
"Why? I know there are paraplegics who do."
"Because..." Webb paused a second then lifted his shoulders. "It ... it would not have been the same."
Mac nodded in silent understanding. She shifted the grip of one hand a little so that she was able to touch his shoulder in a small reassuring gesture. And somehow she knew he smiled.
Some more minutes passed. A comfortable silence had settled between them as they approached the bottom of a gentle hill. Jack had trotted regularly up to now but suddenly he started throwing his head up and down and jerking at the reins. Webb turned a bit and lifted his brows.
"Are you up for a little adventure?"
"Uhm - sure."
"Then hold on tight. Call immediately if you even think you might lose your balance, promise?"
"OK." Not sure what to expect Mac searched for a better footing and crouched lower until her head was on level with Webb's.
"Ready?"
"Ready!"
Webb clicked his tongue and shortened the reins some more. Jack immediately quickened his pace and jumped into a canter, straining against the bit. The sulky shook and rattled as the gelding fought to have his head.
"Mac?"
"I'm fine!" An unexpected surge of adrenalin shot through Mac's veins making her heart beat faster. And before she knew she had added: "Let go!"
Webb simply clicked his tongue again and lifted the reins. The gelding accelerated hard, going faster with any second and Mac's breath caught in her throat. Blood sung in her ears as hot wind whipped tears to her eyes, blurring the sides of the lane flying by. The horse was now thundering uphill at full speed, all its weight thrown into the harness. Grass and pieces of ground flew around their heads. The pumping hind legs so close or the bumps and jumps of the sulky should have frightened her but the excitement of the wild ride washed any other emotion away. Involuntarily she laughed out loud, simply enjoying the moment.
All too soon Webb reined in the gallop and talked soothingly to the horse. The gelding slowed willingly down and fell into a prancing walk. Although he was shaking his head and snorting loudly to show that he all but approved.
Laughing all over his face Webb turned in the wheelchair. He was panting.
"And?"
"Oh my God, that was great!" exclaimed Mac equally breathless, looking at him. And as she did their noses nearly brushed.
Time stood still. Mac found herself staring into Clayton's sparkling eyes. She could feel his breath on her skin, on her lips and she knew he had to feel hers too. She saw the smile slowly leaving Webb's face as he answered her stare. His gaze flickered. From her eyes down to her lips and back up to her eyes and Mac felt again a hitch in her breath, cutting right down to her very core. Her own gaze traveled over his features, those features she had once known so well, so well, searching his eyes again, his unreadable eyes. She thought he was tilting his head a little, moving forward a little, his breath so hot and she lifted her chin, drawn by his slightly opened lips, by the darkness in his eyes... Abruptly Webb turned his head away.
A pain shot through Mac's body as if a knife had been run into her. And for the life of her she could not have given a reason why. Quickly she rose to an upright position and gritted her teeth against tears suddenly threatening to fall. Taking a deep breath she fought desperately for control, to stop her body from shaking, to stop thinking, to stop herself from feeling this pain she had no right to feel.
Webb fiddled with the reins, his eyes glued to his hands. "We - we better go back. Jack is not used to drawing two people. I don't want to exhaust him."
The gelding looked all but exhausted but Mac nodded silently. A useless gesture because the man in front of her wasn't able to see it. Her voice was hoarse as she finally found it.
"Yes. Yes, that's probably better."
Jack fell into a gentle trot again. After a short uncomfortable silence Webb pointed with the whip to the side and started to explain some meaningless details of their surroundings. Gladly Mac played along and threw in little questions.
Anything - ANYTHING was better than silence ... was better than to think.
