by Julie Cannon
The herd secure, the group stopped for lunch, quickly devouring the cold sandwiches, chips, and fruit Ann had packed for them that morning. Several lay down under the shade of a tree, stretched their tired limbs, and took a light nap while Gail and Bart kept an eye on the strays they had rounded up.
Shivley sat down on a fallen tree, and when Christina approached, gave her a look that clearly told her to find somewhere else to sit. Christina glared at her throughout the meal, which made Shivley feel slightly guilty, but not enough to do anything about it. It was Shivley’s job to ensure all of her guests enjoyed themselves, and rebuffing one of them was not the way to do it. She would have to make up for it later, but right now she was simply too tired.
She thought back to her conversation with Rachel earlier that morning. It was partially true. She had tossed and turned a few times last night, but that was before she gave up trying to sleep at all. Every time she closed her eyes she saw a blonde in boots, jeans, and a hat.
She leaned her back against the thick stump and must have dozed off because she came awake with a jerk at the sound of her name. Bart was calling her from across the stream, and Shivley quickly scanned the other women hoping no one had noticed she had fallen asleep. All the women were either napping or talking quietly to each other except Rachel, who was looking straight at her.
Rachel had been watching their sleeping host as she slowly inhaled and exhaled with each breath. Shivley’s legs were stretched out in front of her, her hands lying casually in her lap, hat pulled low over her eyes. She looked like a real cowgirl, and a damn sexy one at that. Rachel smiled at that thought. For crying out loud, she is a real cowgirl. Not a wannabe like the rest of us. Rachel enjoyed the opportunity to study the lanky form uninterrupted and took her time imagining what the skin beneath the worn jeans and cotton shirt would feel like under her fingers. If it was anything like her dream the night before, she might die from the exquisite sensation. She sighed with disappointment when Shivley woke, ending observation.
Shivley was all business talking with Bart. Her stride across the creek had been purposeful, and her stance once she arrived was confident. Even though they were outside under the cloudless sky, Shivley had a presence about her that Rachel imagined would fill any room.
For the second time that day Shivley caught Rachel watching her. If it weren’t for the rush of arousal, she would have felt uncomfortable at the attention. Several years ago a guest had stared at her the entire week, and after a few days, Shivley felt as if she were being stalked. Thankfully, when the week was over, the woman disappeared from her life. But Rachel watching her was different. She stood a little taller and sat straighter in the saddle, all for Rachel’s benefit. She was desired, a feeling that left her many years ago. She came back across the stream as the women began to stir.
“Okay, ladies, let’s get these cattle back to the ranch and we’ll call it a day.”
Shivley had no preconceived ideas that it would be that easy, and she wasn’t wrong. The cattle spotted a section of fence that was down, and the lead steer quickly headed in that direction. Shivley quickly rode to the front along the south side of the herd, Rachel parallel to her to the north. A wave of warmth mixed with déjà vu washed over her at the sight. She had imagined this scene in her head many times: working the ranch with the woman she loved by her side. The rider beside her had no face, but Shivley always knew it was not Dale.
Simultaneously they arrived at the lead steer and turned him and the herd around before they hit the open range. Shivley gave Gail and Bart instructions to take the women and the herd back to the corral while she stayed to repair the fence. When Shivley dismounted to repair the fence a shadow passed across her back.
“Need some help?”
The sun was behind Rachel, silhouetting her body, accentuating every womanly curve. The sight was almost more sensual than if she were standing there completely naked. A few strands of hair had escaped from her ribbon and blew in the gentle breeze. Shivley’s throat tightened. “Sure. You should have some pliers in your saddle bags and some rope.” Each woman had a small set of tools typically used every day on the ranch. Shivley found that it often came in handy, and today was no exception.
Rachel knew how to mend a fence and was quickly on the ground beside Shivley lifting posts and pulling wire without having to be told. Several times she was distracted by Shivley’s bronzed muscles covered in a light sheen of sweat glistening in the sun, and more than once Shivley caught her looking.
Shivley was impressed. Not only could Rachel mend a fence, but she did it without complaining. She was strong, resourceful, and persistent. Shivley was accustomed to her guests working alongside her. It was a working dude ranch, after all. But working with Rachel beside her was very different. They worked well together. Rarely did Shivley have to tell her what to do, and when she did, Rachel understood immediately. This was what Shivley had envisioned when she dreamed of the ranch. But guilt was burning in her throat like bile. Guilt that she had never imagined Dale would be by her side and shame that now that she had met Rachel, Shivley wouldn’t want her to be.
Rachel stood back to admire their handiwork. “Not bad for a couple of lesbians.”
“Pretty damn good for a couple of girls,” Shivley countered. She would return to this section tomorrow with the proper tools to secure their temporary handiwork.
“Touché. Right back at ya, Rancher McCoy.” Rachel was proud of what they had done. She realized that it had been a long time since she had experienced a sense of accomplishment like this and even longer for something she could be proud of. Yes, she got people elected, but so what? What impact did she really make? Her job was difficult. Every one of her candidates had a skeleton in their closet, but she could hold the door closed with one hand and spin with the other with her eyes closed. Big deal.
She never stayed around to see the impact of what she had done. Those who dabbled in psychoanalysis would say that she was never held accountable for her actions. She didn’t think that was entirely true. If she didn’t produce, she was fired. But again, so what? A dozen more clients just like the one she left were waiting in line for her skills. Her job consisted of one campaign after another. Her personal life mirrored her professional one. She drifted from woman to woman, and after over twenty years as a lesbian, she had absolutely nothing to show for it. She didn’t have any ex-girlfriend stories, no photographs on her coffee table of places she and a lover had visited on a romantic vacation. Her life was as transitory as her job. She was drifting, and until recently she thought nothing of it. As a matter of fact, it suited her. No demands, no commitments, and no disappointments. But lately she had an underlying need for something more permanent to wrap her arms around.
The last few days were filled with hard, physical work, pure and simple. At the end of the day there was a tangible result that she could be proud of. The difference between Washington and Arizona was much more than simple geography.
Chapter Sixteen
The cattle were in the holding pen and the horses set out to graze in the adjacent fenced pasture when Shivley and Rachel arrived back at the ranch. Several women were sprawled on the soft couches in the great room, and a few had made it up the stairs.
Shivley continued into the kitchen and headed straight for the refrigerator. The cool blast felt good on her sweaty skin. When she reached inside for some water, a voice behind her made her tingle.
“Got one for me, too?”
Shivley grabbed two bottles and turned around. “Certainly.” She handed one to Rachel.
Rachel intentionally grasped both the bottle and Shivley’s fingers and used her grip as leverage, pulling Shivley toward her. “The kitchen appears to be our place.” Rachel fully intended to kiss the lips that had driven her crazy all day.
Shivley was not expecting the move, but smoothly sidestepped the approaching mouth, pulling her hand away and leaving Rachel hanging in midair.
“That wasn’t very nice,” Rachel re
plied once she had recovered from her awkward position. She unscrewed the cap and lifted the bottle to her lips.
Shivley lost whatever composure she had when Rachel tipped her head back, allowing the cold water to slide down her exposed throat. Rachel swallowed several times, and a trickle of water escaped and slid down the front of her neck. Shivley wet her lips, imagining her tongue catching the droplet that was disappearing into the V of Rachel’s shirt. She was envious of its path and watched Rachel’s chest as if she could see it through the soft material.
Rachel released the bottle from her lips, almost choking as she swallowed the remaining water. The expression on Shivley’s face was a mixture of lust and apprehension, with lust winning out as the dominant feature. The familiar surge of arousal leaped at her, and Rachel was instantly wet simply from Shivley looking at her. Her nipples tightened under Shivley’s intent gaze.
Shivley’s body responded to the tension that filled the air. Her breath came in short bursts and her knees grew weak. Her vision excluded everything around her except for the rise and fall of Rachel’s breasts. She didn’t know who was mimicking whom, but Rachel’s chest was moving in time with hers. Warm liquid sped through her veins and settled in the crotch of her Levi’s. She grasped the edge of the counter with one hand to steady herself while the other still held the bottle of water. Her grip was so tight the plastic started to crack in protest.
“Jesus Christ, would you two take it upstairs?”
Shivley reacted first. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. To be publicly rebuked was humiliating, and she felt like she’d just been caught making out under the bleachers with the head cheerleader.
“For God’s sake, you’re two consenting adults. Stop fighting it and just do it. I’m tired of you using my kitchen as an erogenous zone.”
“Ann,” Shivley began. She wasn’t doing anything, so why should she feel guilty?
“What? Oh come on, Shivley. This is the second time I’ve walked in on you two, and both times if I would have come in five minutes later, you’d have been on the floor, and you know it.”
“That’s not the point. Rachel is—”
“Jesus, would you stop with the guest thing?” Rachel interrupted Shivley before she could continue. “You’re right. I am the guest, and the guest is always right. So stop treating me like one.” Rachel shook her head at the absurdity of her statement. Shivley and Ann simultaneously turned their attention to Rachel. “For crying out loud, stop acting like you’re going to offend me. I’m capable of making my own decisions.” She directed her comments to Shivley. “I want to kiss you. As a matter of fact, I want to do more than kiss you, and at the risk of offending your sensibilities, a good fuck is exactly what I need.”
All three women burst out laughing at the same time, releasing the tension in the room. Shivley finally had to sit down before she fell down, she was laughing so hard. Rachel and Ann joined her around the table, and they started laughing again. Shivley finally pulled herself together.
“Ann, do you have anything else to say?” Shivley held up her hands. “No, don’t answer that. I’m certain that you do.”
“You still don’t think you hired me for my cooking, do you? You needed me then and you really need me now.” Ann cast Shivley a look that said, And you know what I’m talking about.
Shivley relied on Ann’s keen insight and often conferred with her on personal and ranch matters. She shrugged. “Obviously.” She cast a quick glance at Rachel, a good fuck is exactly what I need echoing in her brain.
Rachel smiled. “You hired her.”
“Whatever was I thinking?” Shivley dropped her head into her hands.
Rachel noted that the twinkle had returned to Shivley’s eyes. “We all make mistakes. The question should be, why is she still here?”
Shivley was enjoying turning the tables on her friend. “Because she makes a killer bologna sandwich.”
“That’s exactly why you keep me around. Now, it’s time for me to start dinner. You two take your insightful conversation somewhere else, or I’ll put you to work.” Ann had a dish towel in her hand and snapped it at Shivley. She shook her head in disbelief. “You can birth a calf and fix a tractor, but you can’t boil water worth a damn. Now scoot.”
Shivley knew when it was time to leave Ann’s kitchen, and this was it. She got out of the chair expecting Rachel to follow. “Don’t tell me you do know how to boil water?”
Rachel sat back with a smug look on her face. “Uh-huh. And not only do I know how to boil water, but I can even toast bread.” She flashed Shivley a playfully superior look.
“Okay, okay, I know when I’m beat, again, as a matter of fact. I’ll just mosey out to the barn and fix something. At least there I’m pretty good at what I do.” She kissed Ann on the cheek on her way out.
The banging of pots and pans was uncharacteristically soothing for Rachel. She was not domestic in the slightest, and the only thing in the cookware in her house was dust. “Would you like some help?”
Ann looked over her shoulder. “Would you know what to do if I said yes?”
“Probably not, but I can follow directions.”
Ann laughed and waved her knife at Rachel. “Thanks, but I think I can handle it. Just go and enjoy yourself. Why don’t you take a soak in the Jacuzzi before dinner?”
Rachel was tempted but knew better. “If I did that now I’d never get out. But thanks for the suggestion. I think I’ll just wander around a bit. See you at dinner.”
Chapter Seventeen
Shivley was bent over a John Deere tractor, her head under the hood, her ass in perfect position for Rachel to stare at as she leaned against the doorjamb. She crossed her arms over her chest and settled in to enjoy the view. The brim of her hat deflected the afternoon sun, but a bead of sweat snaked down her back and into the waist of her jeans. Rachel had watched Shivley for most of the day, and the more she did, the more intrigued she was about the owner of this wonderful ranch.
She glanced around the barn and noted it was as well kept as the stables. Various hand tools hung on hooks attached to Peg-Board behind the workbench. Several hooks were vacant, their occupants scattered on the ground at Shivley’s booted feet. Shivley’s hand searched blindly along the fender, missing a wrench several times. “A little more to your right.”
Shivley jerked up, hitting her head on the hood of the tractor. “Ouch, shit.” She lifted her hand and rubbed her head, smearing grease on her cheek. Rachel stepped forward and offered her a shop rag. “Thanks.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. It looked like you needed some help. What are you working on?”
The sight of Rachel standing in her barn like she belonged there made it difficult for Shivley to follow the chain of Rachel’s conversation. “The engine’s got a slight ticking when she first starts up.”
“I’d offer to help, but I already tried that with Ann, and she just about threw me out.” Rachel chuckled at the memory.
Shivley wiped her hands. “She’s very protective of her domain. She’s not nearly as mean as she pretends to be.”
“She seems to be pretty protective of you.”
“We’ve been friends a long time. Sometimes I’m not sure if she’s my friend or trying to be my mother.” Shivley recalled many times where it was the latter, and she inwardly thanked her for it.
A stab of long-forgotten pain centered in Rachel’s belly. Her reaction to Shivley’s comment startled her. As a little girl and even into her young adulthood, Rachel would flinch at any mention of the friends and family she never had. She often made up stories in her head to ease the loneliness she experienced whether she was alone or in the middle of a crowded room. “You’re lucky.” Rachel barely got the words out.
“Excuse me?”
Rachel didn’t realize she had spoken out loud, and by the expression on Shivley’s face she wasn’t going to be able to fake her way out of it. “I said that you’re lucky to have a friend like that.”
> There was something behind Rachel’s simple comment that Shivley wanted to explore, but a smelly barn, up to her elbows in engine grease, was probably not the most conducive scenario for deep conversation. “I am.” Shivley wanted to say more but was tongue-tied at the prospect of an intimate conversation with Rachel. She took the safe way out. “Something tells me you know the difference between a crescent wrench and a box head.”
Rachel knew Shivley had seen her reaction, and she inwardly thanked her for not pressing the issue. “Yes, I do. In fact I’m pretty familiar with tools, and better yet, know how to use them.” Rachel was very self-sufficient with repairing things, and at one home had helped rebuild a 1965 Mustang. But it was her last comment that opened Shivley’s eyes wide, and she knew she had struck her mark.
“Uh, okay, uh, I’d like to uh, get this fixed by the time Ann hollers at us for dinner.” Shivley knew she was stammering all over herself, the image of Rachel and tools bouncing through her brain.
Rachel removed her hat and tossed it on the workbench. “Great, what do you need?”
*
Both women stood with their hands on their hips listening to the tractor purring quietly. For the second time that afternoon Shivley was amazed at how well they had worked together. Rachel seemed to know exactly what she needed when, and she often felt the cool, hard tool in her hand before she asked for it. Their conversation was strictly mechanical as Rachel asked and Shivley answered questions about the engine and its parts.
“It sounds great.”
“That’s the way she’s supposed to sound. Thanks for your help. Without you I probably would have been out here after dinner, too.”
“Flattery will get you anywhere, and I appreciate it, but all I did was hand you the tools.”