Unknown - Bea_s pony

We walked to the car and let the pony out. Cunningham remarked that he was still a stunning animal. Helen wanted to know if he was going to geld the animal.

"Don't think so," he said. "If he proves a good stud, throws true, I'd be foolish."

"I'm so glad," Helen said, "I hope he throws true, as you say."

Cunningham looked puzzled. "First time I ever heard a lady choke up over cutting a pony. It don't hurt them more than a scratch might," he assured Helen.

"I wasn't thinking about that," she told him. "I was thinking about all the fun he would miss."

Cunningham looked her up and down. "How about that, Miss Starr," he said to me. "Your sister's a real winner."

He had a habit of fixing his stare on a person, and not letting any change in the conversation sway him from the object of his gaze. He was wrapped up now in Helen's pelvic region. She had not worn hot pants this time, but the skirt she had chosen did an even better job.

I knew what Cunningham hoped for more than anything else in the world, and I had a feeling with Raver out of the way, he might just realize it.

We walked the pony back into one of the stalls in the barn where Cunningham tied the animal in place and filled the feed bucket. Helen had wandered a few stalls down and Cunningham sidled up to me.

"You haven't told your sister about the Victorian Room, have you?" he asked.