~ The Royal Pain ~

by

Cindy A. Christiansen

The horses slurped up the icy-cold creek water like siphon-hoses filling huge water tanks. Tom enviously watched them while sipping on his warm canteen. He watched in male frustration as Dallas soaked her blue kerchief in the cold stream and placed it refreshingly around her neck. The droplets of water slowly dripped down her soft silky neck and trickled down between the cleavage of her warm breasts. It disappeared to places he wanted to explore. Hell. She innocently licked her temptingly curved lips. A hot ache pounded in him like thunder and flashed through him like lightning. There was that damn Brooks and Dunn song again. He hated that Ronnie Dunn.

He took off his hat, ran his hand through his hair, and let out a long sigh. Well, what good did it do him? She was hardly speaking to him right now. He had to whip up some self control from somewhere. She was like a frightened, injured deer, and if he didn’t tread lightly, she’d spook away.

Salina Creek rushed and gurgled over smooth brown rocks while cooling the surrounding air. The grass and trees were full and vibrant from stretching their roots toward the abundant flow of moisture. They walked along the rich dark bank, giving their horses a deserved rest. They stopped to feel the cool mist upon their faces and smell the fresh spruce and pine mingling in the breeze.

“Fill your canteen. There won’t be water until we get to the lake,” he said. He came up behind her and drank in her scent.

“Those clouds look like rain to me,” she stated.

“They won’t do much,” he said, trying to ignore the clouds and a certain feeling stirring in him. “How ya doin’?”

“Fine.”

“There’s one thing that can be said for ya.”

“What’s that?” she asked.

“You’re not a complainer. Why don’t we rest a minute?” He walked over to some large rocks and stretched out.

She followed slowly, biting at her lower lip. “Why do you say that?”

“Most women whine over a broken fingernail. Aren’t ya gonna complain about the bugs or the hardness of saddle or somethin’? You beat any woman I’ve ever known, except my ma and Ina.”

“Well, when my dad gave me Yuletide, he told me to take him for a really long, hard, first ride so that every other ride I took him on would be easy compared to that one. I guess that works for people, too. I’ve just been on a few worse rides, so to speak.”

He knew she’d had more than a few broken fingernails, that was for sure. He felt sad and sick inside and mad as hell about it. Someone like her should be protected and loved and made love to like there was no tomorrow.

“What do you do outside of the dairy?” she asked.

The question scared him. He hadn’t shared his horse whispering with anyone except his family and the Royals. Was he ready for this? He took a few deep breaths and got himself in check. What was the big deal? So he was revealing a little bit about himself. “Uh... Uh...”

“Tom?”

He was acting like he didn’t have enough brains to teach a hen to cluck. It was a simple question. Boy, howdy, get a hold of yourself!

“I’m a whisperer... a horse whisperer... trainer... horse trainer. I train horses.” He said all in one breath. He was tapping his foot so fast; you could almost hear a chugging engine and a freight whistle.

“I’ve heard of that. In fact, I saw the movie with Robert Redford. That takes a lot of talent. Where did you learn how to do it?”

He found himself studying her doe eyes and luscious full lips. He found himself wondering how he could have ever been interested in Venna. Dallas was far superior to her.

She was everything he wanted in a woman and more. He couldn’t take his eyes from her. He wanted to reach over and fulfill the desire within him.

“Did you hear me?”

“What?”

“Where did you learn how to horse whisper?”

“I learned from the best. Roy Holden. Tell me about you.”

She stood up. “Don’t you think we better get going?”

That was stinking obvious. He stood up, too.

“I told ya you’re gonna have to trust somebody someday.” He knew her fear lay in her own camp not his, but he couldn’t say it didn’t hurt. He brushed passed her. He yanked up Trapper’s reins, mounted, and headed out.