Elsa Winckler - The Whisperer

Cameron took a sip of wine and stared into the glass. “Look, I don’t understand what you’re talking about. I understand things I can see with my eyes, black on white. This communication you’re talking about is a grey area and makes me uncomfortable, to say the least. But,” he raised his eyes to her, “I’ll think about it.”

“That’s progress, I’d say,” Philip laughed. “He has actually agreed to think about what you said. I’m telling you, that doesn’t happen every day. If he’s made up his mind about something, he rarely changes it. And don’t hold your breath, though, he’s as stubborn as they come.”

“And you’re of course, always Mr. Nice Guy,” Cameron said, obviously irritated. “Our dad was an ornery piece of work; I suppose it’s something we’ve inherited.”

“Well, at least if you know your own shortcomings, there’s hope for you yet!” Imke teased. “When did your dad die?”

Cameron moved on his chair and his leg touched hers only this time she didn’t move away, but waited quietly for the answer.

“About two years ago,” Philip answered. “It was only after his death that Cameron started buying horses again. While Dad was alive, he refused to have a horse on the farm.”

“You’ve probably heard how my mom died,” Cameron said, looking at his plate. “She was his whole life and he was never able to accept her death. He blamed everything and everyone for what happened and nothing and no one else mattered after she was gone.”

Philip slapped his hand playfully on the table. “Oh, my goodness, this is too morbid for words. What about a decadent pudding? I’ve made something with chocolate.”

Imke sighed. “Chocolate? Cilla and I are both addicted to chocolate – we’ll do just about anything for it.”

Philip wiggled his eyebrows. “Really? Anything?”

He and Imke continued to joke but Cilla wanted to leave. The brooding man next to her with his warm leg resting against hers, was becoming harder and harder to ignore. So when Philip stood up after they’d had their pudding and offered coffee for everyone, she jumped up.

“Thanks, but we have to go. I still have marking to do. Thanks for the lovely lunch, Philip, I’ll definitely visit your restaurant in Hermanus.”

“Yes, maybe even as soon as next …” Imke began eagerly, but Cilla interrupted quickly.

“Do you have your bag?” she asked Imke.

Imke frowned. “No, I have it with me. As I was saying …”

“Imke, really. We have to go. Come on,” Cilla said, desperate to silence her friend and to get away as quickly as possible.

When Imke turned to move towards Philip, Cilla grabbed her hand and just about dragged her out to the car.

“What’s wrong with you?” Imke hissed.

“Just keep moving,” Cilla said and didn’t stop until she was safely behind the wheel of her car.

The quicker she could put distance between herself and Cameron Rahl, the better.

It was only when they drove through the gates of the farm and her heart rate had settled somewhat, that Imke turned towards her. “Well, that was interesting.”

“What was interesting? The fact that a complete stranger couldn’t keep his hands to himself but had to keep touching you?” Cilla teased.

Imke grinned. “That’s not what I’m talking about but yeah, that was also very interesting. I’m talking about your reaction to the other brother.”

“He makes me mad – if that’s what you’re talking about, I wouldn’t call it interesting.”

“Yeah, you’re mad, but what about?”

“You were there, you heard how stubborn, how narrow-minded, how … how …”

“Tall? Handsome? Sexy? Gorgeous? Those the words you’re looking for?”

Cilla glared at Imke. “That’s not what I’m thinking about …”

“Oh, come on, Cilla. The man is drop-dead gorgeous – you want to tell me you didn’t notice it? Your heartbeat didn’t even increase a tiny bit?”

And just like that, the anger left Cilla. Nobody could stay mad with Imke for long. She rolled her eyes. “Okay, yes, he’s … sexy …”

“Oh, so that’s the word you’ve picked from all of the above?”

“And gorgeous and … whatever else you mentioned, but …”

“He makes you feel flustered, uncomfortable?”

Cilla shifted restlessly in the car seat. “Imke, seriously. I’ve seen the man twice. What I was going to say before you interrupted me was that yes, he’s attractive and all the rest but he’s also rude and … and narrow-minded. You heard him. He’s a scientist, I’m anything but. Not two lanes that will ever meet.”

“You feel deeply, you would love intensely. Don’t be scared of that. You’ve always relied on your instincts, don’t stop now.”

Cilla shrugged. “This has nothing to do with me being afraid to feel. The man wanted my opinion on his horse, I gave it to him. He’s convinced I’m crazy. End of story.”

Imke opened her mouth to speak again but her phone rang. “It’s Philip,” she said, her eyes sparkling.

“Of course it’s Philip. He couldn’t stop touching you. Answer it.”

Fanning herself, Imke answered the phone.

Thank goodness. Cilla didn’t want to think about Cameron Rahl, she didn’t want to talk about him and she didn’t want to be reminded that yes, her heartbeat had in fact, increased a tiny bit.

But it was just a tiny bit and he was a very attractive man.

Cameron kicked a bucket that was lying near the stables. Inside the horses moved restlessly. He swore. Damn it to hell, now he was upsetting the horses. He wasn’t angry at them, he was angry at the whole bloody situation. Perhaps his dad hadn’t been so stupid not to want horses on the farm. Was all the trouble and effort really worth it?

But when he remembered the way his mom’s face would light up when she rode, he knew the answer to the question. She was the reason he brought horses back to the farm and because of her, he would never get rid of them again. All of this was for her.

And to remind himself of a time of laughter and love on this farm.

He entered the stables and walked up to the big black stallion. Bravo. The horse was standing as close to the far wall as possible. Disheartened Cameron stared at the animal, resting his arms on the gate.

And then she was back in his thoughts – the long-legged beauty. He remembered everything about her in vivid detail – her long brown hair, her deep green eyes, the way she lifted her chin when she was angry, the way her smile lit up her whole face. Not that he’d seen much of that. And he remembered the heat of her leg against his and the nearly overwhelming urge to take her in his arms and kiss her lips to find out whether they were as soft as they looked.

Something pushed against his hand and when he looked up, he looked into Bravo’s eyes. The big stallion had moved closer and was looking at him with … sympathy? As if he knew Cameron was thinking about Cilla, knew that he missed her. Cameron staggered back. What the bloody hell?