In the corner of her vision, she saw Driver’s face shift in the rear view mirror and her gaze snapped up. They locked eyes for a short moment.
A small smile played along his lips as he saw her anxious kyanite-coloured eyes flicker to the dashboard. She hoped he'd get the message, and when she felt the car slow down she glanced at the dial again. Eighty. She released a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, then, when he wasn't looking, she peeked at him again from between her mascara-covered lashes.
It was like he'd read her mind, or somehow sensed or trepidation. She balked, knowing how ridiculous the idea was, and looked squarely out the glass to her right. She leaned close to her door out of his line of sight and remained there.
They were all intoxicated by the silence, swimming in their own thoughts for another ten minutes or so, before her aunt’s chirpy voice broke through the quiet like a high-pitched telephone ringer.
Jaz seemed to be the only one who flinched as her aunt began with, “So, Jaz?”
She turned to Erica, not looking forward to answering whatever question she was about to ask. She didn’t like talking in a confined space when only her voice could be heard- especially in front of strangers. She glanced at Driver who had his eyes fixed on the road, apparently not listening.
“You like the countryside?” Aunt Erica inquired.
Jaz glanced out the front window at the vast expanse of lush green and yellow fields, sweeping up and down across steep hills. “I guess,” she replied, adding a little shrug. She could see her aunt waiting for her to continue.
When she didn’t, Aunt Erica threw her a line. “There’s a lot of farming land around here. You also see a lot of horses, not just cows and sheep. You like horses, don’t you? You’ve got a painting of one in your room, right?”
Jaz nodded. She was surprised by her aunt's comment. Erica had only been in her room once, not long after they’d met, and yet she still remembered the painting. “Yeah, it’s an Arabian black horse,” Jaz confirmed.
“Beautiful animals,” her uncle said.
“Yes,” she replied in a soft voice. She self-consciously gazed down at the floor.
“Have you ever been horse riding?” Uncle Bo asked.
She looked up and found him with his body turned her way; his light brown eyes beaming. It was a topic he clearly enjoyed talking about. She hunched her shoulders, “A few times. I’m no jockey but I enjoyed it a lot.”
Uncle Bo nodded. “Oh, it’s a wonderful pastime. I’ve not ridden in several years, mind you. Not since I did my back in,” Uncle Bo responded nostalgically. “When was the last time you went riding?”
“When I was fifteen. I went to a local riding school for my work experience. It was for two weeks and is pretty much the only experience I’ve ever had with horses,” she explained with regret.
“Oh dear, you must have gotten all the dirty jobs I bet?” her aunt asked, smiling.
Jaz pressed her lips together to contain a grin as she half-nodded half-cocked her head side to side, speculating. “It wasn’t that bad. I had to clean out the stables of course, clean and polish tack, groom and feed the horses. But the best part was collecting them from the fields for the lessons. I’d never ridden one before then and I had to ride them down narrow country roads bareback.”
Driver tried not to look her way as she said that. He was a man: he couldn’t help it when a word like that caused explicit images to overpower his mind. And it had been so long since… He bit down on his teeth, nearly cracking them to pieces. Stop, he ordered. It's wrong. Even just thinking intimate thoughts made him feel he was cheating on Lora, which was why he hadn't slept with another woman since she'd died. His body resented him for it.
Jaz also became uneasy by the word 'bareback' the moment she said it. She didn’t know where the feeling came from but she speedily smothered it, adding, “I mean -we couldn’t carry all the saddles there. We sometimes had to collect nine or more horses at a time between four people.”
Her aunt nodded in understanding, seemingly unaware that Jaz had stumbled over her words. “Yes, well I’m not a great horse riding fan myself. I wouldn’t have been able to do what you did. Your uncle was always much better than me. He has a way with horses. I’m more of a dog person,” her aunt replied with a smile.
Jaz tried not to pull a face. “Really?” It wasn’t an actual question but Jaz only said it because it seemed the polite thing to do.
Driver detected the false note in her voice and flashed a momentary glance at her reflection.
“Oh yes. I used to breed them actually, when I was much younger. And sell them. Pedigree of course.”
Jaz smiled weakly.