Elsa Winckler - The Whisperer

Her dad nodded. It was never necessary to explain in detail what a horse’s problem was, but her dad knew what she meant.

“Who is the owner?” her mother asked.

“Cameron Rahl, he farms −”

“… near Villiersdorp. On the farm Yonder Hill,” her mother murmured.

Surprised, Cilla stared at her mother. “Yes, do you know him? I did wonder …”

“No, you won’t remember, you were a baby at the time but I knew his mother well. We were at school together and after we moved here, I visited her once or twice but we lost touch. Her death was such a tragic event. They farmed with horses, she adored them. They had two sons. The youngest was about ten years old, I think, when she was thrown off a horse and died instantly. We visited once or twice afterwards, but the husband was completely devastated, I don’t think he ever recovered from his wife’s death. I remember being so sorry for the two little boys who had to grow up without a mother. You say his name is Cameron?”

She looked at Cilla’s dad. “He was the younger of the two, I think. I wonder why the older brother hasn’t taken over the farm.”

Her dad nodded. “I don’t know. From what you’re telling us, it sounds as if Cameron has decided to breed horses again. I remember that his dad got rid of all the horses when his wife died.”

“Yes, one of the few things he did manage to get out was that he renovated the stables about two years ago and began buying horses right after that,” Cilla said.

Cilla’s cell phone rang. It was not a number she knew but she didn’t want to ignore it. It might be someone phoning about one of the children. “Excuse me,” she said and got up.

“Cilla Stevens.”

“Hi,” a gruff voice answered.

Cilla stopped in her tracks. It sounded very much like Cameron Rahl, if she wasn’t mistaken.

“Good evening,” she greeted him formally. What did the man want with her?

He cleared his throat. “I …” He swore softly and she smiled. So he did know swear words that didn’t begin with an f.

“Yes, sir?”

“My name is Cameron. And what I’m trying to say is that I … about this afternoon … I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I know I was …” He uttered a few more swear words.

“Rude? Bad-mannered? Overbearing? Insufferable?”

“No … I was … okay, yes, maybe, but …”

“I was there, there is no maybe about it,” Cilla insisted.

“Dammit to hell, will you stop interrupting me?” he shouted over the line.

“Don’t yell at me!” she shouted back.

The line was silent for a few minutes.

It was obviously very difficult for him to apologize, if that was what he was attempting to do. But she really wanted to end this conversation; she didn’t want all these bad vibes spoiling the rest of her day. “Look, it’s fine. I accept your apology. Anything else?”

“May I please finish my sentence?” he growled.

Stunned, Cilla inhaled sharply and clamped her teeth together. The man made her so mad!

“Mr Rahl, it’s been a long day, I’m enjoying a glass of wine with my family and friends, and frankly, you are spoiling the mood. I don’t know if anyone has ever had the guts to tell you, but you are extremely rude and unpleasant. If you want to talk to me, that will have to change. Until then, goodnight,” she said and ended their conversation.

“And?” Imke asked, little devils dancing in her eyes. “Who phoned?”

“It’s that …” Her phone rang again. Sighing, she answered.

“I’m sorry about this afternoon, I wasn’t expecting you and you …” He stopped talking.

“I what?” she asked, by now very irritated with the infuriating man.

“It doesn’t matter. I … want to apologize for my behaviour and want to know if you’d be prepared to have another look at Bravo. Please.”

Cilla gasped silently. Wow, when he finally got round to apologizing, he really turned on the charm. Her silly heart had started beating erratically, her blood had heated, and she was actually smiling!

“Are you still there? Cilla? Can you hear me?”

Her name had never sounded quite so sexy.

“I-I don’t think it’s a good idea. What I do, is intuitive, natural and you obviously don’t like it. Are you really prepared to trust me and let me do what I think is the right thing? And, most importantly, are you prepared to listen to what you would need to do. All of this from a mere woman?”

“I find what you do … strange. Surely you can understand that?” he asked.

“What is so strange? The fact that I’m a woman?”

He inhaled audibly. She smiled. He was probably counting to ten. The guy was so serious.

“No, what I find strange is that you claim to know what a horse is thinking,” he said slowly as if talking to a child.

Cilla rolled her eyes. “It’s not that strange, you know. If you think about it, you probably also communicate with the animals on your farm, although you may not even be aware of it.”

“When will you be able to come?” he asked, completely ignoring what she’d said.

Why did she think he might understand? He had obviously decided what she did was weird and that was it.

“I don’t have to be there,” she said. “If you e-mail me a photo of Bravo, I can help him. I often do it like this.”

“Are you completely ins …” he began but inhaled sharply.

Probably grinding his teeth. The thought made her smile.

“I’d prefer it if you could come to the farm again. I will obviously pay you for your time, your petrol and your … help.”

Cilla swallowed the catty remark that nearly slipped out. She knew she could help the horse, it wasn’t his fault that his boss was prejudiced.

“Well, during the week I teach so I won’t be able to get there before next weekend.”

“No, that’s too long to wait. What about tomorrow?”

Cilla turned to look at Imke before she answered. “A friend is staying with us. I’ll check whether she wants to go with me, we should be able to be there at …”

“Come at eleven, I’ll make sure there is something to eat. And … well, thanks,” he said and rang off.

Stunned, Cilla stared at her phone. “He put the phone down!” she exclaimed. “He phones me, struggles to apologize, orders me to be on his farm tomorrow morning, and before I could react, he puts the phone down! And, oh yes, Imke, apparently you and I are having lunch at his place.”

Imke smiled. “Mmm, the first guy I know of who doesn’t immediately jump through hoops when talking to you. And he bothers you a little bit. Interesting. I think I may like this guy.”

“Interesting is not the word that comes to mind when I think of him, and I can promise you, there is nothing likable about him,” Cilla said in a huff. “And I don’t think he’s going to be able to let me do what I should do. Mom, I’m sorry but it seems I won’t be here for lunch tomorrow.”