Elsa Winckler - The Whisperer

“Oh.” Cilla bit her lip to keep back the giggle that threatened to erupt. He obviously found it very difficult to acknowledge when he’d been wrong.

She glanced in his direction, but he was looking straight ahead of him.

As they neared the stables, Ken stepped out. “Good morning, Cilla. I’m very glad that certain people around here finally changed their minds and asked you to come over again. This morning, Bravo is completely out of control. I’m not sure whether you should go in there alone.”

Cilla put a hand on his arm. “He and I understand one another, don’t worry. I know what the problem is, but let me talk to him again, there may be something else bothering him.”

Behind her, Cameron mumbled something incoherent but she ignored him. Imke followed her into the stables.

“I’m coming with you, I’d love to see the other horses.”

The two women disappeared into the stables and Cameron put his hands in his trouser pockets. It was much better to have them there otherwise he might do something utterly stupid like taking Cilla’s hand in his.

He didn’t know what the hell was going on, but he was struggling to keep his hands to himself, the need to touch her was overwhelming. When she was walking beside him just now, he’d wanted to put an arm around her, as if it was something that he did regularly, as if he’d done it before.

And her perfume. She smelled like roses. A huge bed of red roses. Yesterday her scent had infiltrated every pore of his body, leaving him aching and lusting after her. Hell, he’d hardly slept last night. When he woke up this morning he could swear he still smelled roses.

He swore. He didn’t want this woman on his farm, he didn’t want her near him. She was trouble with a capital T. He needed to get out more. Philip kept telling him he needed more of a social life and maybe his brother was right. All those women he was afraid of meeting? He should go and meet them, have sex with them so that he wasn’t this sex starved next time a beautiful woman visited his farm.

Feminine laughter floated towards him and the next minute Cilla and Bravo exited the stables. Bravo gave him a spiteful look before he turned away.

“Well, I never,” Ken said behind him. “He doesn’t want me near him, but he is quite happy to be led by Cilla.” He barked out a laugh. “I won’t be surprised if he sticks his tongue out!”

Imke grinned, staring after her friend. “He’s putty in her hands. She has a way with her, you should listen to her suggestions.”

Like the previous day, Cilla led the horse to the centre of the big circle and stood silently next to him for what felt like a long time. Then she rubbed his face, turned and walked him back towards the stables.

After a few minutes she came out alone.

“And? Can you help us?” Ken asked.

“It depends,” Cilla said. “Are you going to do what I say you should do?”

He felt Ken’s eyes on him.

Cameron folded his arms. “I’ll listen to what you have to say,” he finally said. “Let’s go and have lunch, we can talk then.”

They all walked back towards the farmhouse. Cilla looked around her. The view was truly spectacular. Closer to the homestead she noticed the piece of garden where the gardener worked yesterday. Beyond that, another piece of earth had been readied for something to be planted in it.

Cilla motioned in that direction. “What are you going to plant over there?”

“Canola. It blooms during winter. I don’t know if you’ve seen a field of buttercups in bloom before, but it is a beautiful sight,” Philip said.

“We are both born and bred Overberg girls,” Imke smiled. “Cilla’s parents farm just outside Caledon and my dad works for the beer brewery in town. And although we’ve both worked overseas and have seen the world, Cilla was in America and I was in China, to us, this region is still the most beautiful piece of land on earth.”

As they neared the homestead, amazing aromas from inside the house reached them.

Imke inhaled. “Who is the cook?” she swooned. “I’ll marry him immediately!”

Philip stepped out on to the huge veranda in front of the house and took Imke’s hand in his. “Well, I’m the chef. Come with me, then we can talk about your proposal.”

Amazed, Cilla stared after them. Imke was usually very wary of strange men, but she obviously didn’t have any problems with this one.

Cameron motioned for her and Ken to follow him. “Let’s talk here,” he said and showed her into the huge dining room. “Have a seat.”

Gingerly, Cilla sat down and looked around the lovely room. The furniture had to be family heirlooms. The table was obviously made from South African yellow wood and antique spindle chairs were placed around it.

“So, what would you say is Bravo’s problem?” Cameron asked.

Ken sat next to her without a word.

It was clear from the skeptical expression on Cameron’s face that he still didn’t believe in her communicating abilities.

Cilla looked down at her hands. She knew what his reaction was going to be even before she opened her mouth. But he did ask.

“Two problems, actually,” she said and looked him straight in the eye. “First of all, where did you get him?”

“Why is that important? I got him from someone in Bredasdorp,” he said, clearly taken aback.

“And you drove through Caledon?” Cilla asked.

“Yeah, that’s the only way,” he said irritably.

Cilla smiled. “Well, then I understand. Bravo caught the scent of a particular mare on his way here and he wants to, well, he wants to mate with her.” She ignored the blush that crept up her neck. “I could be wrong, but I think I know exactly which mare he wants. And the other thing is …”

Cameron swore and jumped up but Cilla ignored him and continued with her sentence. “… he’s bored.”

Cameron’s fingers folded around the back of the chair, his knuckles turned white. Just as she had thought – he didn’t want to believe that the solution to Bravo’s problems were actually very simple.

“He wants to mate? There is a whole bloody stable full of mares, where the hell do you get this cr … nonsense!” he shouted. “And bored? So what is it that he would like to do? Shall I take him to the movies?”

Ken held up a hand to silence Cameron. “Why do you say that?” he asked Cilla.

Cameron lifted the chair he was holding and dropped it back into place. He started pacing the room.

Cilla lifted one brow but, ignoring him, she spoke to Ken.

“As I said, he caught the smell of a particular mare on his way here.” She glanced over at Cameron. His whole body language was telling her he thought her completely insane.

“My parents’ farm runs alongside the N2 from Bredasdorp. We have a mare, Maggie. She’s chestnut in colour with a black mane and she looks exactly like the …”

Swearing, Cameron turned on her. “Oh, so this is what you do. You are looking to pimp your mare, aren’t you ashamed of yourself?”