by Ann Patty
Cairn laughed uncontrollably. Cliff said, “Thought so.” He continued to eat around most of the casserole contents. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Cairn play with her food on the plate. Cliff looked at his plate and reflected then said, “Engine Jo's moon shine. Yup.” He shook his head chuckling.
Cairn looked up as if caught, then smiled swaying her head and limbs to and fro mocking Cliff. Sliding out of her chair she waltzed clumsily around the table. Not a word left her mouth. Only the smile of the she-devil bedazzled her lips. As Cairn passed by the back of Cliff's chair one finger fell on his shoulder. Dancing her fingertip weaved a design across his back, upper neck, into Cliff's hairline, down and across to the other shoulder blade. Then her finger found the tabletop and drew a line across the table to her chair. Cairn sat down with a cocky smart-ass look that challenged her dinner partner. Cliff sat back, puzzled. He didn't know what to think. All Cliff knew was that this was a side of Cairn he did not know, plus he lost his appetite.
Cliff threw down his fork and looked around the room. Cairn was not to concerned over his stewing. She had always thought he was a stiff old dinosaur unbecoming of conduct for her ultimate cowhand. Everything was either this way or that. A staunch life imprisoned by routine... ah, that would be Cairn too, she acknowledged. Well if moon shit or whatever it’s called could change an evening around the house Cairn would welcome it. Cliff left the room for minutes upon minutes. Cairn felt triumphant.
Cliff reemerged with a giant box and set it on the table. He pulled out a stereo system with speakers and CDs. Without a smile or a frown he set it up in no time. Slapping in an old Best of Bread CD, it began to play the tunes of nostalgia. Cliff walked straight up to Cairn and held out his hand for hers. His coal black eyes pierced Cairn's will. She took his hand and rose to the occasion.
The song, “It Don't Matter to Me” filled the empty space of the barn top. Lyrics rang true as Cairn fell into Cliff's arms. “And it don't matter to me; If your searching brings you back together with me; 'Cause there'll always be an empty room waiting for you; An open heart waiting for you; Time is on my side; 'Cause it don't matter to me; It don't matter to me....”
Cliff never took his eyes from Cairn's. She accepted and challenged him back by surrounding herself inside his complete masculinity. Cairn let her hands roam Cliff's shoulders, neckline, chin, then dropped her hands to his chest never letting her eyes leave his. Cliff's cheeks blushed. His body burned to be inside Cairn, yet his gentleman demeanor was resisting temptation.
Cairn had been resisting temptation her whole life. She was tired of “proper” and “ladylike” and other such confining definitions. Cairn wanted to be whole. For just one night, she wanted to act on her lust and breed this man until the sun came up. Never mind the consequences of thereafter. Cairn was ready to abandon respectable. She took her hands and slipped it under the buttons of Cliff's shirt. Slowly the buttons came undone. Cairn took the open front and peeled it back revealing a healthy chest of hair on a well-muscled frame standing at five-foot ten, an inch above Cairn. She stroked Cliff's soft black fur chest. Cairn was tempting Cliff in every way she knew how. She wanted him to take the lead as Cairn felt that was just the way it should be. So she caressed and stroked and fussed with his chest and neck and jawline.
Cliff was overwhelmed with his hard on. He grabbed Cairn's hands and held them to stop. Then he lost his sense of chivalry. Cliff placed Cairns hands down his pants, then unzipped himself. Cairn took his handful. He was thick and adequate and very warm with a touch of pre semen at the end. Cairn dropped to her knees, but Cliff caught her and brought her back up to his face. His hands around her neck and jaw Cliff advanced to kiss Cairn. Their lips met as a suction cup takes to a glass plate. Cliff's tongue found Cairns and they savagely probed and retracted then re-explored each others mouths, suggesting their dares go farther. Cairn had retracted her hands and engulfed Cliff with her arms. Both were now orally raping the other, which advanced to clothes being extracted and thrown at their feed. They were frenzied by each others sexuality. Their hands roamed to hidden orifices. Breeding is manner-less. Cliff backed Cairn up against a wall, lifted her thigh and plunged himself into her. She gasped then grabbed his buttocks to secure him inside her womb. Cliff uncontrollably grunted with deep hard breaths then let out a long “ahhh.” He had ejaculated leaving Cairn wanting. A moment passed for his recovery.
“Sorry babe. I've just been around those bulls too long,” Cliff said. “I'll take care of you, come here.” And he led Cairn into his bedroom and laid her back for all of creation to see. Then Cliff licked her tummy and down further until he found her pleasure. “Relax, let me do the work,” Cliff said as he put two fingers inside Cairn. Within a minute, Cairn grabbed the sheets, arched up and screamed. When she climaxed and fell back, Cliff climbed back up and put his arm around her. No words were necessary. They had said with their bodies all that needed to be told. Cairn's free arm grabbed a blanket and tossed it across both of them as they succumbed to sleep under the setting sun.
Cliff and Cairn broke their sexual barriers. Both intrinsically knew there was no greater gift to give to another person than their trust. This moment and this union became uniquely theirs. Together this timeless bond would transcend itself. “Other worldly” was what came to Cairn's drifting mind.
The hint of a slight dawn sky found Cairn riding Cliff. He was buried deep inside her as she rocked back and forth grinding herself against him. Cliff’s hands pulled against Cairn's ass purposefully to create friction for himself. She bent down and cupped his face in her hands and kissed Cliff suggestively with her tongue. In Cliff's concentrated fervor. he braced his legs and pushed hard into Cairn. She smiled, sat up and rode her bull diligently. Her flexible body bent over backwards as her arms braced her position. Red hair bobbing wild to the rhythm of their breeding, Cairn used her breathing to cum. As she released, a sigh escaped her. She felt a welling pressure from inside. Cliff was clenching his fingers into her buttocks as he came almost instantaneously, but after Cairns. Both continued to ride the other, milking out any last fluids. When they were spent, Cairn collapsed on Cliff and again they slept in a womb of lust-filled juices.
When the sun rays pierced the musky room, the lovers stirred lazily. Cairn rolled off Cliff and onto her back throwing her outside arm overhead onto the pillow. She stared at the ceiling and revisited yesterday. Most moving to her was not their love making, but Engine Jo's tales of the spirit world. Cliff was awake and rolled on his side to see Cairn. “A penny or more for your thoughts. You look lost,” Cliff asked Cairn.
Her eyes rolled to see him, but she did not move her head. Cairn thoughtfully asked, “Cliff, do you believe remnant ghosts roam this land?” This was her attempt at feeling him out on such subjects.
“Well, there is a lot of folklore that is alive in these hills. Tales usually have a basis in truth,” Cliff mused as his free hand roamed under the covers and over Cairns soft breasts. Then he said, “Engine Jo, filled you with moonshine and then spoke spirit stories to consume your brain,” Cliff said bluntly, then stopped as Cairn became still. He knew he hit upon a sensitive subject so he changed course.
“When I was a boy of eleven I looked across our cow pasture early in the morning. I saw an old warrior with full headdress sitting proud upon his war pony. He just looked at me then pointed to a tree by our house. I went over to the tree, but I did not understand. When I turned back to him, he was gone with the chill on the wind. I told my father and he inspected the tree. It was decayed badly and ripe to fall on the house. My bedroom was in that corner,” Cliff paused lost in his memory then started, “The warrior came to warn me, I guess. Never saw him, or any other after that. Do I believe in spirits? Hell yes.”
Cliff concluded his story with a large breathe out. Cairn was captivated. She didn't know where to begin, so she started with the old sage warrior she met at the riverbank, then the two guides that helped her on Cliff's farm. She told Cliff of the woven cloth, remnants she was not su
re she understood the significance too. Cairn told Cliff, “These tangible items are links back to our material world. All things to make me reflect on what's to come. All of the signs were connected to premonitions of what lay ahead. Three times it has happened, although I don't have the items the riverbank Chief spoke of. I still cannot piece together what he said about 'watch out for the snake with the rock. It carries the seed to renewal'... I just don't know and probably won't until it passes.” Cliff was running his fingers up and down Cairn's abdomen, but listening to her intently.
After a while Cliff said, “My ex-wife had occasional premonitions. They all came to pass eventually with no harm done. But it used to agitate her to not know the significance behind them. I think in your case, you are being helped and forewarned. Just keep sharp. Your answers will follow,” Cliff flipped off the covers and headed to the shower room. Cairn lay there, wondering if he was going to ask her to join him. But after the shower began to run and the door shut, the answer was clear.
Cairn got up and decided to get dressed because in an hour she would be back in to take a shower anyway. She had decided to ride Bluebird every morning to keep limber and in practice. She put on yesterday's jeans, slipped on some cowgirl boots she found browsing a Goodwill down the way, and tucked in a lightweight tailored shirt. As Cairn came out of her bedroom Cliff caught her by surprise and swung his arms around her waist. Kissing her on the forehead, Cliff leaned back a bit and said, “Now don't go git-tin' in trouble while I go wrestle the bulls, I'll be home about six.” With a wink and a nod, Cliff turned and strode off, out the front door, and down the plank steps. Cairn could hear the rumble of his Ford F350 as it turned down the road.
Unfinished Business
Cairn grabbed and munched on an apple and headed to Bluebird's stall. She hung her arms over the top stall boards and stroked her friend's muzzle. He pushed back in an effort to bite the apple. Cairn whittled it down then gave the last few bites to Bluebird. On this morning, the brushing and cleaning hooves, and saddling and bridling—all the farm details thereto was done without thought. Cairn was quickly approaching unconscious competence with some of the barn routines. This made her smile because just a couple days ago she didn't even know which end of a horse to get on.
The saddle was on and Cairn reached under for the girth and began cinching it up. Looking across the saddle-back, Cairn wanted to make sure the blanket and saddle sat right for Bluebird's comfort. Glancing across the seat of the saddle, Cairn detected a motion in the farmyard. Initially she froze, then got curious, and walked towards the open barn door. There, once again, was her Native American friend with his back to Cairn. He was putting something up on the top of the hitching post. Just as Cairn came out into the light, the older suntanned man turned to look at Cairn. Casually he held up his hand in a stationary wave. Cairn was about twenty feet from him. She never let her eyes drift off of him. And yet today, his image dissipated into a film of a silhouette that evaporated right before her. It seemed to Cairn that he knew she had acknowledged his ethereal form. Therefore he was presenting her the gift of knowing this right back at Cairn.
The man was definitely the same one who had now graced Cairn's path for the third time here, and possibly a fourth time if this was the same Chief from down the road. The black hair with a long, lone feather slipped in behind. The red cloth, worn as a sash or a blanket. The loose flowing clothes in beige linen. And the sandals strapped around his ankles. Yes, Cairn was being watched and warned. She saw that her apparition left another calling card upon the hitching post top. Hastily she skipped over to the next clue. It was a round rock, a good size handful sitting on a translucent snakeskin. Cairn did not know about snakes, but she thought this was related to the Chief's warning. So she looked upward and mouthed a silent “Thank you” for the guidance. She took these items upstairs and added them to the two woven blanket pieces. Her collection sat by itself on the other twin bed beside the one she had occupied previous to last night. For the next hour she rode Bluebird in the arena. The day was warming up so she retired and bathed Bluebird, gave him a flake of hay, and went upstairs to shower.
That afternoon Cairn found her way out of Cliff's valley of vacant hills and headed west toward Burns. The terrain was arid, but after the last few days she could see the charm of the area. This was a good time to visit Cliff had told Cairn, before the scorching weather in the one hundreds set in. Cairn shuttered at the thought and then she believed the locals were either tough or numb. Approaching the peak of a hill Cairn pulled off the highway into a turn out. It was time once again for a conversation with her good best friend, Kelly.
The normal chit-chat always bored the girls and they took but two minutes to get into a conversation of meatiness. Kelly relished all the new stories that Cairn could feed her. The moonshine. Engine Jo. The last evidence left by Cairn's soul guide. The waltz with Cliff. And the hint of a night worth remembering.
“Crap. Cairn you've been busy,” Kelly said with a wishful tone in her voice.
“Well, out here it just happens I guess. If I were a permanent residence I'd just be a go along like all the rest,” Cairn said flatly.
“Permanent resident? Cairn, tell me, are you and Cliff serious?” Kelly prodded excitedly.
“Oh hell no. I'm just enjoying my time here. That's all,” Cairn stated bluntly and then said, “Cliff and I have come to an understanding. We both had unmet needs. So we satisfied ourselves. Don't get me wrong. I do like the man, but we are from two different worlds that can't mix. Rather I should say we resist making our worlds mix. When this is over I believe we will be over. We really have nothing in common.”
“Hmmm, wow. Online dating goes off center. It sounds from all you've told me that both of you had some sort of expectation about the other that was constantly at odds.” Kelly summed up her thoughts, then had to ask, “Was your time together in bed, your lovemaking a struggle too?”
“To be honest, I was drunk and that was the only way I could loosen up enough to let him near. It's not that Cliff is a terrible person, he is not. In fact he is thoughtful, communicates well, a genuinely good person, and a great kisser. Very easy on the eyes to boot.” Cairn stopped to laugh and got Kelly laughing too. “You know Kelly how you've talked of people's energies not fitting? Well that is how we feel when we are together. He is a nice guy but there is no tummy flutters, or spine tingles, you know the body talk that tells you WOW when he comes into a room? If anything I feel a bit agitated when we are together. To answer your question, yes, I enjoyed going to bed with him. My body—and his body needed the scent of another human. You know opposite sex validation does wonders for ones self-esteem. The lord only knew I was past due. It had been a long while for both of us.”
“Yes, I get what you mean. Totally,” said Kelly contemplating Cairn's vacation stay. “Well just make the best of it Cairn. You have another week left. If you find it that unbearable, you could always go to another destination. Something like a spa just for you,” Kelly reasoned in Cairn's best interest.
“Yeah, I thought of that too, but there is something wild and untamed about this place. It makes me want to stay and absorb. I believe this challenge here was made just for me. Sometimes I think I have unfinished business here and I'm tied here until I'm done. I have no idea what keeps me here. Might have to do with my special spirit man,” Cairn drifted off then said, “Kelly, this is your land. It suits you. Somehow I'm going to scheme a way to get you out here. Cliff is waiting for you, not me. He's your kind of guy. Totally and completely. I feel it in my bones.”
Kelly listened closely then said, “Well it sounds like fate will have its way whichever way that goes. You and I both know the power of manifestation. I'll be honest with you. I'd love to visit you in your world there. I'd love to soak up the dust, the old barns, and all the creatures. Of course I'd like to meet Cliff. But, I would never set any expectations, even with your blessing. Furthermore, short of an emergency, I ain't going nowhere. I used up all my vacation
for this year,” Kelly sounded disappointed.
Kelly and Cairn bid one another goodbye. Good friends were never far from each others heart. Kelly hung up thinking of the reality of her visiting Cairn. It seemed doable and more than strangely quite probable. Kelly dismissed the thought and delved back into the work waiting on her computer.
Cairn decided this day would be exploring the town of Burns. The map indicated there was not much in the way of big city life. The population did not warrant it. Just the brass bones serving a community of a few thousand, give or take. For the afternoon, Cairn browsed the shops and grabbed lunch and in short order believed she had seen it all. She had heard about the Bureau of Land Management (BLM) corrals just outside town so that was the direction she headed.
The corrals loaded with horses were not too difficult to find, being located just off the highway. The BLM held a multitude of horses in waiting. Young ones, old ones, mares, geldings, foals, yearlings, black ones, brown ones, roans, buckskins, every genre of Mustang that a person could image were here waiting for someone to adopt.