Lariat, a Western Romance

With a weary sigh, her sapphire-colored eyes seized the sun-split sky filled with looming clouds, becoming lost once again in her analysis of the Australian, Bodey Rainwater.

Her father, Dub Jackson had married his mother, the widow Jessica early this morning, the short ceremony performed in the large den at the main ranch house by a close friend of the family.  The event had brought tears to her eyes, hot angry tears because she was powerless to stop the disaster in the making.

Jessica had turned towards her with a warm charming smile and had innocently comforted, "Weddings always make me cry too, dear."

Diandra was amazed at the shallow depth of Jessica's brain.  Surely she was aware that by marrying her father she was shattering Diandra's world?  

And then the deliriously happy couple had departed the ranch quite quickly to enjoy a six-week honeymoon leaving Bodey in charge of molding Twelve Sticks into shape during that frame of time.

Diandra hadn't managed six hours with the man - much less six weeks!

Although she had attempted civility, he had arrogantly shot her down - deeming the ranch a disaster spinning out of control.

She eased out a sighing moan as the she caught sight of the horse and rider gliding freely across the meadow floor southward, quickly closing the gap between them.  Bodey Rainwater.

Before she had completely recovered, he was standing beside her, his male gaze making frigid contact with her small defiant face, something flashing in the dark eyes, then his Australian tongue addressed her in a slow, deliberate concerto - sounding like nails on a blackboard to Diandra's flared ears.

"Why don't ya quit feeling sorry for yourself and return to the ranch house?  You're acting like an abandoned child - sulking in the meadows.  And that sour attitude appears to have rubbed off on your horse," he added, nodding towards Featherloom who stood in the distance, firmly planted like a rectified Tower of Pisa.

In response, the horse lifted his lips, exposing his white square chops while Diandra crossed her arms, a gesture indicating that the matter wasn't open for discussion.

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