The Bovine Connection (20 page)

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Authors: Kimberly Thomas

BOOK: The Bovine Connection
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Michael was still looking forward and now moving a little faster. “Yes, and I’ve been told I’m pretty good at it.” He laughed confidently.

“Really… What’s on the menu for this evening?” Angelica said sarcastically.

Fresh trout caught from the river early this morning! Oh and it will be paired with a nice Prosecco. You do like Prosecco, right?” Michael looked back at Angelica.

“Yes, I love Italian sparkling wine… but I obviously liked Tequila better…” she mumbled too quietly for Michael to hear.

“It’s this way, follow me.” Michael softly kicked his horse and shouted, “Let’s go!” Michael’s horse took off and was galloping fast.

Angelica kicked Zane softly and held on tight. “Let’s go, Zane!” As she anticipated, Zane followed and sped up to a gallop, steadily behind Michael’s horse.

The fresh air was moving through Angelica’s hair, lifting it up. The wind brushed her face, and it felt exhilarating. She looked around, taking in the beautiful landscape of green wilderness bordering dark rocky mountains, and then up to the blue sky. All thoughts had left her. She had put her trust in Zane and Michael. She allowed the excitement to run through her… feeling more alive than she had in a long time.

As they continued, she saw Michael was heading toward another trail in the forest of pines. It appeared to lead up the mountain ridge. She held on tightly and followed behind toward the incline. Michael slowed down a bit and went right in. Michael picked up speed again as they started up the slope. The trail had become rocky and Angelica noticed the moss and ferns carpeting the spaces between the grey boulders. They continued to climb as Michael looked back at Angelica now and then. “You all right back there?”

“Yes!” she shouted.

Unexpectedly, the trail opened up and they were at the top where the view stretched for miles.

“Oh, wow!” Angelica blurted. “This is gorgeous! Do you come up here often?”

Michael looked out in the distance. “Not as much as I used to. I did quite a bit after my father died. See over there? That’s Elberton. See the church steeple?”

Angelica looked where Michael was pointing but was distracted by another hawk gliding in the wind above. She remembered her childhood in Asheville and the hikes she would take with her grandmother. Her grandmother was half Cherokee Indian, and had always been more at home in nature. Although Angelica’s cheekbones were high and her eyes deep and almond shaped, she had obviously pulled more genes from the Irish side of her family. Angelica had always considered her grandmother a peculiar woman and observed her closely. She recalled watching her grandmother’s long grey-less dark hair hang loosely around her shoulders as she leaned over with moss in her hands so Angelica could run her fingers through it. Just like on this day, she looked up and saw a hawk circling the sky above them. She missed her grandmother. Reflecting on the memory, tears started to well up in her eyes. She turned her face toward the wind hoping it would dry her tears before they fell down her cheek.

“What do you like to do for fun back in D.C.?” Michael asked as he tilted his head and tried to look directly into her eyes.

Angelica gripped Zane tighter between her legs and nervously looked off into the distance. “Well, I … Hey, I thought I was here to ask you the questions.” Angelica laughed.

“You’re here because you are supposed to be here with me.” Michael grinned seductively.

“Oh, I see. I work a lot… not much time for fun.”

“Tell me more about your work. How long did you say you’ve been a journalist?”

“Well, after my internship, I became a staff writer at
The Washington Post
. It was tough politically, at times. There is a lot of jealousy in corporate America. This is a much different way of life… much different.” Angelica leaned down around Zane’s neck and rubbed her hand through his mane to smooth it back down. She continued… “It’s so peaceful here -- brings back a few old memories.”

“Yes, but for me it’s sometimes too quiet; it can get lonely here by yourself.” Michael couldn’t disguise the emotion behind his words. She could feel it in his tone.

“I’ve heard that before,” she whispered, as she thought about Matthew. “I imagine it could be lonely at times. Do you have a girlfriend? I apologize, I’m being intrusive.” She had already figured he wasn’t married.

“No girlfriend and no, you are not being intrusive, Ms. Bradley.” He smiled.

“Oh?” Angelica said curiously. “I saw you in front of the diner yesterday afternoon with a woman. I thought she may be…”

Michael interrupted her, “No, she was my best friend’s wife. He was one tough soldier and the best friend I ever had. He passed away last year. I made a promise to him that if anything happened to him I would watch after her and his daughter. He was killed in battle.”

“I’m so sorry,” Angelica turned and looked back toward the steeple in Elberton. Michael appeared disheartened as he nodded.

Angelica noticed Michael had a sadness about him and it was drawing her in.

“His name was Scott. Anyway, why don’t we head back toward the ranch?” Michael pulled the reins and led his horse back down the ridge. Angelica took one last look around and took a deep breath as she followed behind on Zane. They were quiet as they made their way down the rocky ridge. Michael looked back every so often to make sure Angelica was safely following behind. She looked into his eyes and smiled each time. She realized on the quiet journey back that she was falling fast for Michael, and she had a strong feeling that he was falling for her as well.

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Eight

 

T
he muscular figure crouched motionless in the camouflaged wooden platform. The old deer blind was in the perfect location and it was the perfect cover. If anyone spotted him, he was just another hunter waiting silently for his prey. The clear polycarbonate listening device was the size and shape of a large bowl and he was pointing it in the direction of Michael and Angelica on horseback below in the ravine.

He removed his earplugs and pulled out his cell phone. “This is location Alpha Two. I am confirming contact. Conversation does not warrant a move to code zero. They are heading back to the ranch. Alpha Three can pick up contact within twenty minutes.”

As he hung up the cell phone, he gingerly stretched his legs. He had an awful cramp in his left calf muscle. He had been in the old deer blind and barely moving for several hours. At least their intelligence was accurate. “This cowboy was predictable. He did exactly what they thought he would do.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Nine

 

M
ichael put his hands on Angelica’s waist and slowly helped her down from Zane.

Since Sammy wasn’t back from town, Michael tied up the horses alongside the barn, confident that Sammy would get them back into their stalls for the night.

Angelica stepped inside the barn and grabbed her small purse and satchel. As she stepped back out, she noticed the soft black waves around Michael’s face moving in the breeze, as he pulled the saddles from the horses. He turned to look at Angelica and stopped for a moment, struck by the expression of desire on her face. She was unaware she was observing his every move. They both stood in front of the barn looking into each other’s eyes. Both could feel it - the attraction was magnetic, and the earth stood still.

Michael extended his arm, opening his hand for Angelica to take it and walk alongside him.

Dusk had set in and the sky now had warm hues of orange muting the blue. The day spent with Michael horseback riding was unexpectedly perfect, she recollected. Angelica was feeling overwhelmed with emotions and consumed with desire. Her mind was flooded and her pulse raced. She glanced up at Michael. He smiled and gazed down at her with desire in his eyes. Angelica returned his gaze.

As they walked into the house, both were quiet. Michael walked over and lit the fire in the fireplace while Angelica walked around the room, running her hand softly over the pieces of art brought back from his travels.

Angelica picked up an old cracked dark-stained bowl and admired it. “Where is this from?” Angelica asked, looking over to Michael.

“That is an old Asian rice bowl.”

Michael was walking into the kitchen. He pulled out a bottle of Prosecco from a rack in his refrigerator. “Would you like a glass of sparkling Italian white wine, beautiful?”

“Yes, thank you,” Angelica replied, sweetly. “So where did you travel last?”

“Kitzbühel… a mountain village in Austria,” Michael said with an air of sophistication.

“Really… What was it like?”

He answered her with a question. “Do you ski?”

Angelica put the rice bowl down and looked back at him. “Yes, some.”

“Then you’d love it… best snow skiing. I can’t imagine anyone not loving Kitzbühel; the medieval churches and traditional farmhouse style shops with long wooden balconies bordering snow-dusted sidewalks… it’s heaven, but cold as hell.” Michael laughed.

“Sounds lovely,” Angelica said, as she turned and continued to glide through his living room, picking up and admiring each piece.

Michael walked over and handed her a glass filled with golden bubbles. She exhaled, holding his gaze. He observed her delicate frame as she stood childlike. She appeared fragile, yet he knew better. She was a gazelle with the strength of a lion, and the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, he thought.

“Thank you,” she replied and looked into his intense hazel blue-green eyes.

“If you’d like to clean up before dinner, there is a bathroom in the guestroom down that hall to the left.” Michael pointed past the kitchen, under the loft.

“Yes, that sounds like a great idea,” Angelica sat her satchel down and with her small purse scrunched under her arm, walked over to the table and put her wine glass down. Michael reached into the refrigerator and pulled out a baking platter with a large rainbow trout topped with lemon slices. As Angelica walked into the guest room, he placed it into the oven.

The large rustic carved log furniture made the guest room appear cozy. Heavy earth tone quilts covered the bed. Michael obviously had great taste in décor or he had a fantastic decorator, she thought.

A picture of a stunning black-haired woman in her late twenties in a brushed metal frame stood out on the dresser. Angelica walked over and observed it. Due to the resemblance, she realized it was Michael’s mother. Next to it was a photo of Michael, grinning, as he leaned against his tan horse, Zane. Michael looked handsome, she thought as she held the photo in her hand. His black hair, untamed. He wore green army pants and a dark t-shirt. The sky appeared stormy behind him, with heavy, dark grey clouds. She imagined how romantic it would have been to be with him on the ranch that day. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest.

She put the frame back on the dresser and went into the bathroom. She felt a rush of excitement as she shut the door and walked over to the sink to wash her hands. Looking into the mirror, expecting to need a major touch up, she was pleasantly surprised she still looked presentable. Her hair was wind-blown, but that could be easily fixed. Leaning in, she wiped the running liner from below her eyes. She opened her purse and pulled out her powder, patting her forehead and chin, and then she pulled out her chap stick and dabbed her peach-colored lips. She found a comb in the drawer, brushed and fluffed her hair. After straightening her loose blouse, she put everything back into her purse and looked inquisitively at herself in the mirror. Questions invaded her mind. “Staying for dinner… What are you doing, Angelica?”

She picked up her purse, rolled her eyes and dropped her shoulders. “Oh well… you only live once,” she thought aloud as she turned off the light, walked out of the guest bedroom and down the hall to the kitchen where Michael was lifting a pot of herb rice from the stove.

The lit white candles in the living room created a soft glow as she approached. Angelica shivered, realizing Michael was setting the mood.

The aroma of herbs and fresh trout from the kitchen filled the air through the hall. Angelica realized she wasn’t hungry. “Wow, it smells great in here,” she announced. Michael turned around with a sneaky smile and suddenly his expression changed. Angelica’s stomach fluttered and her face burned.

“You are beautiful.” His eyes were serious and penetrating.  Angelica’s stomach fluttered again and she felt nervous.

He walked closer as she stood still, watching him in slow motion, and then he leaned around her and picked up her wine glass, and handed it to her while rubbing his fingers across hers. She looked down and then back up to his hypnotic hazel eyes, noticing the dark blue outline against the yellow and aqua green center. Her eyes widened as his lips moved toward her. She leaned in and their lips gently opened and touched. He leaned back and looked into her lost, soft blue eyes again.

“There’s more to this cowboy than wrangling bulls,” he whispered, reaching over and lifting her chin. Caught in the moment, she realized she was holding her breath, and suddenly and silently let it out.

Michael turned, walked back over and took the trout from the oven, leaving Angelica standing there speechless with her mouth slightly open. He picked up a book of matches and lit the candle on the table. Angelica, still at a loss for words… took a large sip of her Prosecco as she watched.

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