# New Horse In Town: Bound For Colorado, cont'd

Author: Claymore
Tags: Clean, Clydesdale, M/M, Stallion, anthro/human

A brief stop on the road out of town.

NEW HORSE IN TOWN: &nbsp;

Bound For Colorado, continued

&nbsp; &nbsp;

&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;The lush hills of Pennsylvania blended smoothly, almost imperceptibly into those of West Virginia as Claymore began his trip that Friday morning. &nbsp; It had dawned a perfect late spring day, and the old horse had gotten under way without stopping first for breakfast, or even &nbsp;coffee. &nbsp;For a stallion who wasn't used to traveling, Clay seemed to be enthusiastically beginning his road trip. &nbsp;Of course, the broken CD player in his old truck meant he was forced to listen to local radio tunes while driving; even though they leaned heavily toward the country end of the musical spectrum, this was only a minor drawback. &nbsp;

&nbsp; By mid-morning, the stallion's belly had begun growling and got Clay started scanning the highway for a place to stop. &nbsp; Spotting a "Lock 'n Load Roadhouse" ahead on the right, he turned into the crowded parking lot and found a spot around the side of the building. &nbsp;Looked like there was a crowded diner inside, and those truckers probably knew a good place for biscuits and gravy.&nbsp;

&nbsp; Half expecting Shirley to bellow her signature welcome as he stepped inside the truck stop, Clay was met with a startled hush instead. &nbsp;"We don't let ANIMALS in here," someone at last yelled out from the back of the room. &nbsp;

&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;"What the hell are YOU doin' in here then?" Clay yelled back, not quite thinking first. &nbsp;In retrospect, he realized that taunting a room full of redneck truckdrivers might not have been the brightest thing he could have done that morning, but the room erupted into laughter. &nbsp;"Shut you down, didn't he, George!" someone else yelled from the counter, and the room's buzz turned back to friendly chatter again. &nbsp; &nbsp;

&nbsp; "Don't mind them, mister," a young redheaded waitress said, approaching Clay with a menu. &nbsp;"Counter seat okay, or do you need a booth?"

&nbsp; "Counter's fine, miss, thanks, but I won't need a menu. &nbsp;Biggest cup of coffee you got, please, and if you have a biscuits and gravy special?"

&nbsp; "One '18 Wheeler' it is, 5 biscuits, 4 eggs, 4 sausage patties, and grits for $9.95, hon. &nbsp;Now, &nbsp;how do you like your eggs? &nbsp;And NO, I'm not askin' whether you want 'em cooked!"&nbsp;

&nbsp; Grunting slightly as he settled on the stool, Clay didn't have to think long at all about the answer. &nbsp;"Over easy's fine, miss... ."

&nbsp; "It's Tiffany, hon, and I'll get that order as soon as it's up. &nbsp;Let me know if you need anything else." &nbsp;Pouring his coffee in a practiced, seemingly effortless motion, she smiled in a way that was both sincere and too cute to stiff on a tip after the meal. &nbsp;She then moved on to serve another customer, stepping away as fluidly as the coffee she'd just poured for Clay.

&nbsp; "Don't go gettin' any ideas, pardner!" &nbsp;A large, rough-looking human on the stallion's left advised in a gruff voice. &nbsp;He was, however, smiling as he continued, "She's taken, just thought I'd save ya trouble of hitting on her!" &nbsp;

&nbsp; "Ah, well, thanks, bud. &nbsp;I'm probably old enough to be her pappy, and," Clay rubbed his muzzle stubble as he aprised his dining companion. &nbsp;"You know, the missus would not approve anyhow."

&nbsp; "Boy, ain't that the truth," the big man laughed, his plaid-covered belly shaking. &nbsp; He nodded, noticing that Clay wore no ring on his left hand but quickly turned back to his breakfast and his newspaper. &nbsp;Which, Clay thought, was just as well. &nbsp;Judging from the man's reading material, he was unlikely to have anything to talk about beyond ballgame scores.

&nbsp; "You're a married ...uh, 'man' there, buddy?" a quiet voice on Clay's right side inquired. &nbsp;It belonged to an older, bearded man having coffee and a slice of pie, and the tone of voice was one very familiar to the old Clydesdale.&nbsp;

&nbsp; "Yes sir, &nbsp;22 years now. &nbsp;You seem surprised!" &nbsp;Clay lied, though his slight smile was sincere enough. &nbsp;He figured the human was merely curious but, as usual, Clay was playing close to the vest. &nbsp; Telling folks he was married was close enough to the truth, and often set them at ease or prevented further prying, depending on the situation.

&nbsp; "Well, I figured you'd have enough 'horse sense' not to get hitched, I suppose" the man continued with a chuckle. &nbsp;"I've seen you, what are you guys called? &nbsp;'Anthros,' I think? &nbsp;I've seen you around, I just never, you know, had a chance to chat with them."

&nbsp; &nbsp; "Nah, no worries, man, prob'ly more like you than you suspect. &nbsp;I mean, except for the tail, and the hooves, and the fact that I sleep in a stall filled with straw out in a barn... &nbsp;." &nbsp;Clay smirked slightly as the man's eyes widened in surprise. &nbsp;"Nah, I'm teasin' ya. &nbsp;I sleep in a bed!" &nbsp;

&nbsp; The brief small talk was interrupted by Tiffany's return with a massive white platter. &nbsp;"Here ya go, hon, you need some salsa or hot sauce?"

&nbsp; "Yes, both thanks," Clay nodded, his eyes now widening a bit. &nbsp;The breakfast he'd ordered was big, even for him.

&nbsp; "Here's the hot sauce," Tiffany chirped, pulling a bottle from her apron pocket. &nbsp;"I'll be right back with some salsa and fresh coffee. &nbsp;Enjoy!"

&nbsp; Clay began dousing his food with the vinegary pepper sauce, adding a bit of black pepper as well. &nbsp;The pungent tang of the sauce on the hot gravy perked his hunger, and he began shoveling food into his muzzle without waiting for the salsa. &nbsp;And no wonder. &nbsp;He'd already been driving nearly five hours on an empty belly. &nbsp; The miles had simply disappeared under Clay's little pickup truck, and he'd lost track of time. &nbsp; The journey to Colorado was beginning to feel more like a road trip, and less like an escape.

&nbsp; Tiffany came back with a bowl of salsa and topped off Clay's coffee before dropping a check on the counter. &nbsp;"You take your time with breakfast, I'll just leave that for when you're ready." &nbsp;Clay nodded, his muzzle too full to make a spoken response. &nbsp;Being a Clydesdale with priorities, homemade biscuits were always more important than conversation. &nbsp;

Source: https://sofurry.com/s/214E2Nwe