Gathering on Dance Hall Road
Page 20
“Will he come over to say hello, do you think?”
“I’ll get an apple, and we’ll see,” Van said. The bucket of over-ripe apples sat inside the barn door. He found a good solid one, cut it in half, and came back to Melody and stuck his hand between the rails, fingers open and the apple in the palm of his hand. The buckskin raised his head and swiveled his ears. Cautiously, he approached, snuffling and throwing his head.
“He’s thinking about it,” Van said, keeping his voice low and calm. “He can smell the apple. But is it worth taking a chance on being tricked?”
“He’s coming over, Van. He’s coming,” Melody said, her voice a whisper.
The buckskin whickered, and with a casual nonchalance he slowly approached. He sniffed Van’s hand. He eyed Melody and the barnyard, then took the apple, barely touching Van’s hand with his lips.
“I want to see if he’ll take the other half from me,” Melody said.
Van gave her the apple. “Keep your hand open.”
“I know, I know how to do this.”
“Sorry, I forgot you’re an old horse trainer from way back.”
“Oh, shut up. You’ll scare him off.” She clicked her tongue a couple of times, and the buckskin approached again, sniffing and eyeing the perimeter and took the apple. “Can we keep him? He’s so beautiful.”
Van shook his head. “I don’t know. If he wants to stay, I guess we could try. But I don’t believe in taming all the wild things. If a wild thing chooses to stay, live where I live, and be at peace, then fine.”
“Like me,” she said, wrapping herself around him, a tempting smile on her lips.
“Exactly, like you. I don’t want to change you, tame you. I hope you know that.”
She nodded. “I do know, and that’s exactly why I’m never going to leave. You know what I’d like to do right now?”
He kissed her nose. “What would you like to do right now?”
“I want to go down to the pool for a dip, then I want to go back to our room and copulate, copulate until we can’t copulate anymore.”
“Ever?”
“Well, no, just anymore this morning.”
“You’re on,” Van said and took off running toward the pond. “Last one in has to cook breakfast.”
About the Author
Hello, let me introduce myself: My name is Dorothy A. Bell. I write, and enjoy reading, Oregon historical and western romances. A big chocoholic, I make all kinds of sinful goodies. I love to garden, exercise in the water, tell stories, and write spicy, entertaining, colorful romances. I live in a tiny home with my husband, our long-haired Dachshund, Hector, and an old, angora, tuxedo cat.
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Other Books by this Author:
Dance Hall Road
Do-si-do
Jo and the Pinkerton Man
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