The Whisperer

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?”

Cilla got up so quickly, her chair fell backwards. She gnashed her teeth, trying her best not to say anything but to rather stay calm. Never before had she thought of herself as the violent type, but this man made her so angry, she could throttle him.

Inhaling deeply, trying to calm herself and her galloping heart, she spoke again. “I’m not sure that Maggie, who by the way is not for sale, especially to you, is actually the mare Bravo has in mind, but, for his sake and if you agree, I will bring her here. Temporarily.”

She bent, picked up the chair and sat down again. Her hands were shaking, she was so upset, so angry. She took a deep breath, willed herself to calm down. Ignoring Cameron, she spoke to Ken.

“What you should remember is that every horse has a very particular personality. The term ‘horsenality’ was coined to refer to the system of understanding horses through their personality types. Just like humans can be understood by looking at personalities. Not all of us are the same and we react differently in situations. I will have to spend more time with Bravo before I will really know, but I think he’s a right-brain extrovert. He’s impulsive, can’t be still, he’s nervous, can be easily frightened. He’s energetic and athletic with lots of endurance. He notices things around him. If you know and understand his personality type, you will be able to handle him.”

She glared at Cameron. “Handle him correctly, that is.”

Cameron stormed closer. “And I suppose now you also want to analyze me?”

Cilla felt like punching him, but she kept her cool and lifted her chin. “No, that is not part of my job. But if you were a horse, I’d say you are a left brain introvert. You’re argumentative, stubborn, pushy and you don’t listen to what other people have to say.”

He narrowed his eyes. The muscle in his cheek jumped up and down, a clear indication he was gnashing his teeth. Before he could say anything though, she turned to Ken.

“Let me know if you want me to bring Maggie over. This is, of course, when you can convince this … this stubborn, difficult boss of yours I don’t have a hidden agenda.”

Cameron laughed sarcastically. Cilla ignored him.

“Bravo is also bored; you’re handling him too gently. He wants to use his legs, he needs more activity. Let him run free. He’s frustrated and feels fenced in. Also, someone is hitting him. Make sure that doesn’t happen again, it’s completely unnecessary. Violence is never the answer.”

“Do you have any idea how utterly ridiculous you sound?” Cameron asked.

Cilla continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “Remember, in nature, horses are prey animals, the hunted. Safety is their primary concern and fear is their primary reaction. They are herd animals who look to their alpha for leadership. I also think you should contact an acupuncturist. The aura on his left side looks white, the chi energy isn’t flowing as it should. It might be that he’s anaemic, but I’m not sure.”

“Really?” Cameron asked, not bothering to hide his sarcasm. “You’re not sure? How come? You seem to be sure of everything else!”

Cilla ignored him and stood up. Slowly this time. “Well, that’s my advice, use it, don’t use it. You don’t believe me and you don’t trust me, so my suggestion is, find another solution. I obviously can’t help you. Under the circumstances, I don’t think we’ll be staying for lunch …”

Just at that moment, Imke entered from the kitchen, looking dazed and pleased with the world. “Cilla, Philip can cook like an angel, you have to taste what he’s made. He’s busy with …”

“I think we should go,” Cilla interrupted.

“Oh, but you have to taste …” She continued before she realized something else was going on and stopped speaking. She looked from Cameron to Cilla. “Let me guess – he doesn’t believe you.”

Cilla nodded and took Imke’s arm. “I think we should go.”

Cameron stared at Cilla, not sure whether he wanted to laugh or cry. What the hell! All this nonsense about horsenalities and auras and energies. The woman was obviously completely crazy.

Philip put his head around the door. “What’s going on? I feel very negative vibes coming from this room.”

Cameron glared at his brother. “Don’t you start as well. Excuse me,” he growled and walked quickly towards the front door. He needed fresh air. Lots and lots of fresh air. Where the hell did the woman get her insane ideas? She was so far removed from reality, it was ridiculous.

But hell, she was beautiful. When she coolly looked at him and told him he was a left or right or whatever brain, he wanted to grab hold of her and take her to his room.

And those eyes. She put up a cool façade but just one look in her eyes revealed the passion of a full-blooded woman. It would be very interesting to watch her when she forgot to be cool and collected. His blood started boiling at the mere thought.

He lengthened his stride. That was the last thing he should be thinking about. Yes, she was beautiful, but so were a million other women. And as he very well knew, on this farm, beautiful women were a curse not a blessing.

He didn’t want this woman on his farm, he didn’t want her messing with his head, and he definitely didn’t want her around his horse. Chi energy – what a lot of bull.

Just because she was beautiful and had the most amazing eyes, it didn’t mean he was going to let her loose on his farm.

“What did you tell him?” Philip asked, amused.

“I told him Bravo was bored, he wanted a specific mare, and I think his aura is an indication that he’s anaemic.”

Philip burst out laughing.

“And she told him that he was a left brain … what were the words again?” Ken asked and both men laughed heartily.

By this time Cilla had enough of men and especially of the lot she had to put up with this morning. She pulled at Imke’s sleeve. “Let’s go.”

But Philip moved quickly and grabbed each one’s hand. “Look, I’m sorry, we’re being very rude. Cilla, if you know my brother like I know him, you’ll know why he’s reacting the way he does and why we are laughing. Please stay? It doesn’t happen every day that we can entertain two beautiful women like yourselves.”

Ken slapped him on the shoulder. “You’ve never had women here before, let alone beautiful ones like these two. Enjoy yourselves, I’m heading back home. Thanks, Cilla, and don’t worry, we’ll work on Cameron.”

Cilla gave him a very skeptical look.

Ken scratched his head. “I don’t think I understand everything you’re saying but nothing else we’ve tried with Bravo is helping. And don’t worry, I’ll make sure nobody hits him again. And I really hope we’ll see you again. If you can do with horses what you’ve managed to do with school kids, I’ll believe everything you say. Our son is actually reading now. Never thought I’d see the day.”

He moved towards the door and waved. “I hope we’ll see you soon.”

When he was gone, Philip pulled them after him. “I’ve cooked a lovely meal, you’re not going anywhere. I’ve laid the kitchen table; it’s much more pleasant here than in the stuffy dining room. Have a seat, I’m opening a bottle of wine. Cameron … what can I say?”

Shaking his head, he proceeded to open a bottle of wine. “When our mom died, he was still very young. She was thrown off a horse’s back. For him, it was a double loss. Not only did he lose our mom to whom he was very close, we lost a father as well. Dad immediately sold every single horse on the farm, lost all interest in the farm, in us, in life basically. Like our mother, Cameron loved to paint and draw, but my dad stopped his art lessons after our mother’s death and he removed all her paintings from the walls.”

He grimaced. “I think the development of his right brain stopped right there and then. You’re so right when you call him a left brain introvert. He is very logical and analyzes everything to death, and yeah, he’s argumentative and stubborn. The scientist in him only understands what he can see and explain. What you do is totally outside his comfort zone.” He poured them each a glass of wine and took a seat. “But let’s eat and forget about my brother for a while. At some point, his stomach will bring him to the table.”

Cilla inhaled the lovely aromas coming from the dishes on the table. “This smells divine,” she groaned. “Are you also involved in the running of the farm?”

“No, I love the place, make no mistake, but I’m no farmer. I’m a chef. While Cameron was riding horses, I was helping Mom in the kitchen. My dad hoped I’d change with time, but eventually he had to acknowledge the fact that Cameron was the farmer, not me. I have my own restaurant in Hermanus. Let me know when you visit, it would be my pleasure to have you as guests,” he said, his eyes on Imke.

He lifted his glass, his eyes twinkling. “A toast to the woman who has rocked my brother’s world within the span of two days!”

Cilla looked up in surprise. “What are you talking about? He thinks I want to put a spell on Bravo and is not impressed with this mere woman who has the gall to say she can help him with his horse.”

Philip smiled. “So you don’t understand people as well as you understand animals, it seems?”

Cilla pressed her lips together. These bloody Rahl men – they obviously think they have all the answers.

“But tell me, how does one become a horse whisperer? Do you really whisper?” he teased.

Deep breaths, Cilla, deep breaths. As calmly as possible, she tried to answer him. “I don’t whisper, I communicate with animals. And it’s really very simple. All of us are capable of doing it. As kids we know intuitively how to listen to animals, how to let them know what we want. Unfortunately most people lose that ability as they grow older. We live according to a certain set of acceptable rules and ideas. I grew up on a farm and I’ve always just known what the animals around me were feeling and experiencing. And my parents didn’t think it strange when I spoke about it.”

“She’s always been very intuitive,” Imke interrupted and placed a hand on her arm. “She always knows when I’m feeling sad even if we’re not together. And she had an imaginary friend, if I remember correctly until …” she looked at Cilla. “Right up until high school she would sometimes smile at and talk to the air next to her.”

Embarrassed, Cilla shrugged. “His name was Roux. He and I had a wonderful time on the farm. I don’t remember when he left. One day he was just gone.”

She looked up to see the frown on Philip’s face. “See, now you also think me strange.”

Imke touched his shoulder. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to her. And do try and persuade your brother to listen to her. If she says the horse wants a particular mare and that he’s bored, I’ll bet you that would be exactly what his problems are. I’ve seen too often how she helps people and animals. I’m a true believer.”

The hair on her arms raised even before she heard the noise behind her. Cameron was back. She looked up as he walked into the room. He looked calmer somehow, the frown from earlier had disappeared. She relaxed. A little bit.

Philip noticed him and motioned him closer. “Now that you’re here, we can eat. Wine?”

Cameron nodded and pulled out the chair next to Cilla. When he sat down, his knee touched hers. The temperature of her blood rose in milliseconds and a rushing noise in her ears drowned out everything else. She tried to move away but her chair wouldn’t budge. Heat radiated from his body in her direction, threatening to overwhelm her. He was restless, agitated. She felt it deep inside herself.

A hard kick against her leg made her look up. Imke was making big eyes and motioning in Philip’s direction with her head. He’d probably said something that she didn’t hear.

“Uhm … sorry. You were saying?”

“I want to know how you communicate with animals if you don’t whisper. Do you talk to them? Do they talk to you? Your mouth didn’t move when you were with Bravo, I was wondering how it works,” Philip asked, his eyes twinkling.

Cilla smiled. It was easy to talk to the brother; it was the silent man next to her that she had trouble communicating with. “No, they don’t talk but they communicate with images that explain what they want to say. Animal communicators use different techniques – some only see pictures, others use a kind of dialogue. What is important though, is the relationship you build up with the animal. Energy flows through all forms of life. You only need to open yourself up to it.”

“Okay, but exactly how does it work?” Philip insisted.

Next to her, Cameron had stiffened and she glanced quickly in his direction. That he didn’t want to be listening to this conversation was obvious. She ignored him, though and looked at Philip.

“Well, you start by regulating your breathing, then you are more susceptible to experience things in a different way. Let go of all your rigid ideas of what reality is supposed to be, and you’ll become more intuitive, and will be able to use telepathy. Telepathy derives from the Greek word ‘tele’, which means distance and ‘pathe’ which brings across the idea of a feeling, a perception. In other words, you get a feeling, a perception over a distance.”

Next to her, Cameron cleared his throat. “I’m sorry but as a scientist the whole idea is bloody ridiculous! I find it highly unlikely that Bravo will communicate to you he wants to mate with a specific mare, one whose scent he supposedly caught on his way here. I’ve never heard of anything so … so bloody bizarre.”

Cilla turned to Cameron. He was sitting so close to her, if she put out her hand she would be able to touch his hair and …

“… How do you explain that?”

She again hadn’t been listening to the conversation. Her leg touched his again and she turned her body away from him.

“I think we all have an idea, for instance, of how you think your dream husband or wife would look like. Don’t you have a picture like that in your head? One you sometimes dream about?”

He stared at her for seconds before he slowly nodded.

“Well, I got such a picture from Bravo.”

“Can you see the picture in my head?” Philip teased.

Cilla shook her head. “I can read people who are close to me, someone like Imke, who doesn’t wear a mask. Sometimes there are so many layers between who the person really is and the persona he or she shows the world that it’s difficult to read him or her.”

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?

The big horse stared straight at him. Cameron stilled. Outside, the laziness of the Sunday afternoon reigned; the birds were chattering in the trees, the cicadas were making a noise. Inside the stables the other horses moved around. Gradually all the other sounds faded until he couldn’t hear or see anything else, except Bravo.

He blinked and then he saw it – a clear picture of a chestnut horse with a pitch black mane, exactly like the one Cilla had spoken about earlier today.

Gasping for breath, he turned around and fled from the stables. Outside he nearly ran into Ken.

“Whoa!” Ken laughed and stepped aside. “What did Bravo do now?”

“He …” Cameron motioned in the direction of the stables. “He came closer and I could see … what … I could see …”

“Yes? What did you see?” Ken asked, clearly puzzled.

Cameron took a deep breath and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s … nothing. I think I’m slowly losing my mind. Ever since that damn woman arrived on the farm, things have been …”

But there were no words to describe exactly what she was doing to him. With long strides he walked towards the house. He’d turned ice cold. What the bloody hell had happened just now? He’d always understood animals and never before had a problem handling them but he’d just seen a clear image of a mare when he’d been with Bravo. This was way beyond anything that he understood.

“Are you okay?” Philip asked behind him. “You’re muttering to yourself, what happened?”

“Any coffee left?” Cameron asked brusquely and walked into the house. He needed something and it was way too early to have a drink. A caffeine kick would have to do.

He put the coffee in the machine, took out the mugs, walked to the fridge to get the milk. Each movement was slow, focused. He knew how to do this, this made sense, this was normal, ordinary.

Philip cleared his throat behind him and he turned around to see his brother lounging against the door, a big smile on his face.

“What are you grinning at?” Cameron grunted.

“I’m grinning at you. You’re even grumpier than usual. What’s going on?”

For a split second Cameron thought of telling his brother what he’d seen. What he’d thought he’d seen. But he realized, almost immediately, it was not a good idea – he would never hear the end of it.

“I thought I’d come and visit you next week in Hermanus,” he finally said.

“Great. Summer is nearly gone and you’ve only been there once.”

“Well, it was harvest time as you know; it’s a difficult time to be away from the farm.”

“Oh, come on. You’ve harvested long before Christmas. You need to get away from the farm now and again, meet people, meet women. One of the new waitresses is gorgeous, she is still studying but she works over weekends and …”