Lariat, a Western Romance

Diandra sifted her stony gaze over the too-tall masculine form, despising every handsome inch.  He was like a house void of femininity - total man just crying out for a vase of flowers to be put onto his mantle.  Only she wasn't the woman to do it!  Not that she would ever want to, either.

"What the hell is wrong with your horse?" he wanted to know, Diandra's smart attitude fleeing him for the moment.

She gazed over at Featherloom, then shrugged and lied, "He does that whenever he's around people that he doesn't like or trust."

"Hum," Bodey eased out thoughtfully.  "So now I'm wondering if he doesn't like me or, if he doesn't trust me."

"Both," she assured, lifting her chin in the process. "I assure you, it's both."

There was a deadly silence that followed, then Diandra suggested, "Why don't you just catch the next flight home?  Forget about this crazed idea of revamping the ranch.  There is nothing wrong-"

"Can't we get past that?" Bodey challenged, shifting his attention from the horse to the woman.  "Whether you like me or not is of no significance.  However, if you plan to remain at the helm of Twelve Sticks after my departure, I suggest that you listen to me with an open mind - if that's possible," he tacked on, unable to help himself.  She had a knack for ribbing him into hostility when all he'd wanted was a bit of genuine hospitality.

A spear of guilt suddenly shot through him as he was well-aware that her father had every intention of resuming control of the ranch after the honeymoon.  Of course, he wasn't going to tell Ms. Manners that - at least not now.  This one required slow-feeding.

She pushed him over the edge as she nonchalantly bubbled, "Well, enjoy your six-week play day, Mister Rainwater, because when you return to Australia, your silly ideas and pipelined dreams leave with you."

Diandra gasped as he quickly collected her hand and began jerking her along with him, towards the watering trough in the distance.

If only it were a wood shed, Bodey mused as he pulled the uncooperative female along with him.  There was two types of people in this life; those that had to see things with their own eyes and those that could see things without ever looking.  Diandra Jackson was the first - blind without sight.

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