Meghan was now being lead into a long, wooden building. In a dazed euphoria, she followed Luke as he stepped in, onto thousands of little woodchips. Into a building that smelled like horses, but not at all in a bad way.

He let go of her hand and stepped a few feet ahead of her, and Meghan stopped in the doorway. She couldn't seem to get over her amazement.

Luke walked over to one horse in particular, a black one, and stroked the top of his head. With his free hand, he motioned for Meghan to come inside. She walked to where he was standing.

"This one's name is Jim." he said. "You can touch him, if you want. He's very gentle."

Meghan hesitated, then carefully did so.

"He feels so soft." was all she could say, as she looked at the horse's calm face. She noticed that Luke, however, was looking at her. Meghan turned her head, and he smiled. She found herself doing the same, before another creature caught her eye - a chestnut brown horse in the corner. Meghan found herself walking over to it.

She could already tell that this horse was just as mellow as Jim, if not more, and without thinking reached out to stroke its brown fur. Luke stayed over by Jim, leaning back as he watched Meghan.

"Her name's Penny Lane." Meghan heard him say.

Meghan turned her head, and her eyes met with Luke's. She felt herself starting to melt a little, supported only by his gaze. She kept stroking the horse, but couldn't tear her eyes away...

"Penny Lane?" a blonde woman asked as she felt the softness of the chestnut horse's neck. "Like the Beatles song?"

The man standing a few feet away chuckled, looking down.

"It was Mother's idea." he told her. "She's always had a strange fancy for their music."

Luke stepped over to pet the brown horse with Meghan. They both smiled as he scratched the creature's ear.

"I guess the name kinda fits." Meghan found herself saying. "I mean, she is a little penny-colored."

"She's been here longer then almost all the others." Luke said. "I have to say, she's one of my favorites."

"Has she been here long?" Libby asked.

"Not long." Henry answered. "Just a couple of years, maybe. Long enough for me to know how much she likes to have her ears scratched."

The woman smiled.

"I can tell."

Meghan watched Luke as he worked his fingers, giving Penny Lane much pleasure.

"She really likes that."

Luke nodded.

"She likes most anything, as long as you're touching her." he said. "Just be careful not to hold your finger in front of her mouth - she might think it's a carrot."

Meghan laughed.

"I know, I know, just warning you, is all. Because I will NOT have your finger getting bitten off."

"Glad to hear that." Libby told him. "But don't worry, no one's getting bitten. I'm not horsy food."

Luke took Meghan's hand, to "guard it, just in case". She smiled, bashful, looking down. Luke grinned right back.

"What say we take her for a ride?"

Meghan looked back up, and cocked her head.

"I thought you said she was old."

A chuckle.

"She may be up in age, but she can run with the best of them." he told her.

He let go of Meghan's hand to open the gate, leading the horse out, through the stable, and outside. She followed him, and soon Penny Lane had a saddle on her back.

Luke crouched down, now on one knee, and he clasped his hands together, holding them out for Meghan.

"Step on up, m'lady."

Libby set her foot into Henry's strong hands, grabbing onto the horse and quickly swinging her other leg over, almost falling in the process. They both laughed as Henry climbed up to sit in front of her.

"Hold on." he said, before feeling two arms loop tightly around his waist.

"Are you ready?" Luke asked Meghan.

"Yes."

Immediately, Luke moved his legs, and the horse started its motion. Within seconds, Penny Lane had gathered speed, making Meghan nervous. She hugged Luke tighter, at first a bit afraid she'd tumble off. But as they eased into an even gallop, the wind kicking up her hair as it had on the motorbike (but better), she felt her anxiousness fall away, leaving an invigorating rush in its place...

Libby was in elation, enraptured with joy. The world was spinning by, her heart thumping in time with Henry's, and with the horse's hooves as they pounded the earth. She was glowing, warmed by the magical sunshine that encircled her. Glowing, too, from the pleasure of the pure, immense, unfailing love she felt for this man. Such ecstasy, such bliss...

Meghan was a princess, riding the rays of the sun. More and more, she began to fall into a kind of love she'd thought she might never experience. And yet, a bit of it was familiar, like something she'd somehow felt before, but in a different way...

Speeding by on a Beatles song, the scenery changed every minute. Trees, flowers, acres of green grasses swaying. Everything was changing continuously, but for the one she held in her arms, his love a constant she could always hold on to...

And happily, Meghan realized she was living her daydream, and Luke looked nothing like Fabio...

This was the way it had always been. Ever since Morocco. They were where they belonged, together, free in the countryside. In nature, where an instinct took hold that wasn't animal, but elegant and lovely. What she'd always been looking for in her hippie philosophy, she was finding with a stuffy englishman...

"You're not stuffy at all, are you, Henry?"

Henry glanced back.

Luke glanced at Meghan.

"Stuffy? Me?"

Faye was shocked out of her mind. She'd just witnessed the live-in American exchange student speed off on the back of Lucas Brenshire's motor-scooter.

She'd never met anyone who confused her as much as Meghan Reynolds did. One minute, she'd be gung-ho bring-it-on nothing-stands-in-her-way patriotic. The next minute, she'd seem to want to run and hide in a hole.

Meghan had been the picture of etiquette, and the definition of an American teenager. She'd been reserved to the point of fading, and then an over-the top attention getter. Going on a shopping trip with overflowing enthusiasm, and flipping over to the side of sickness after three minutes of a speech from Lord Dashwood. Taking a stand against the populars in a hallway, only to henceforth adopt a philosophy of ignorance that frankly drew equally as much attention from everyone around her, due to the fact that such ignorance had never before been attempted.

It was like Clarissa could step all over Faye and her friends, and Meghan wouldn't ever even care. Granted, Meghan herself was being put through more than any of the rest of them. But why, all of a sudden, did it not affect her?

Faye sat on her pink, ruffly canopy bed as she thought this. She wasn't supposed to get this confused. She was a genius! She wanted answers, and she wanted them now.

All at once, the blonde girl noticed something. A strange noise, coming from the other side of the room. Seemingly, from behind Meghan's bed. Faye stood up and walked over, only to see Benny The Cat, clawing at Meghan's brown hobo bag.

"Benjamin Jefferson Winthrop! You stop that this instant!" Faye grabbed the bag, causing Benjamin to hiss, then bolt off out the door. She was dismayed to find that a large amount of the threads at the bottom of Meghan's bag had been completely torn out. The result was a hole, and even as Faye held the bag in her hands, things spilled out and onto the floor. Lip gloss, passport, money, that business card she'd seen once before. Faye quickly grabbed at the hole, holding it closed. This was unfortunate, but she was sure it could be easily fixed. Namely, by her mother.

Faye stooped to pick up what had fallen out, and noticed something she hadn't seen before, a plain, white envelope with no writing.

And it was then that Faye found her answers. And then some.

Ooooh, juicy. Well, I hope.

Were these satisfactory? In any way poetic? Hope so!

-rf-