Imke grinned, staring after her friend. “He’s putty in her hands. She has a way with her, you should listen to her suggestions.”
Like the previous day, Cilla led the horse to the centre of the big circle and stood silently next to him for what felt like a long time. Then she rubbed his face, turned and walked him back towards the stables.
After a few minutes she came out alone.
“And? Can you help us?” Ken asked.
“It depends,” Cilla said. “Are you going to do what I say you should do?”
He felt Ken’s eyes on him.
Cameron folded his arms. “I’ll listen to what you have to say,” he finally said. “Let’s go and have lunch, we can talk then.”
They all walked back towards the farmhouse. Cilla looked around her. The view was truly spectacular. Closer to the homestead she noticed the piece of garden where the gardener worked yesterday. Beyond that, another piece of earth had been readied for something to be planted in it.
Cilla motioned in that direction. “What are you going to plant over there?”
“Canola. It blooms during winter. I don’t know if you’ve seen a field of buttercups in bloom before, but it is a beautiful sight,” Philip said.
“We are both born and bred Overberg girls,” Imke smiled. “Cilla’s parents farm just outside Caledon and my dad works for the beer brewery in town. And although we’ve both worked overseas and have seen the world, Cilla was in America and I was in China, to us, this region is still the most beautiful piece of land on earth.”
As they neared the homestead, amazing aromas from inside the house reached them.
Imke inhaled. “Who is the cook?” she swooned. “I’ll marry him immediately!”
Philip stepped out on to the huge veranda in front of the house and took Imke’s hand in his. “Well, I’m the chef. Come with me, then we can talk about your proposal.”
Amazed, Cilla stared after them. Imke was usually very wary of strange men, but she obviously didn’t have any problems with this one.
Cameron motioned for her and Ken to follow him. “Let’s talk here,” he said and showed her into the huge dining room. “Have a seat.”
Gingerly, Cilla sat down and looked around the lovely room. The furniture had to be family heirlooms. The table was obviously made from South African yellow wood and antique spindle chairs were placed around it.
“So, what would you say is Bravo’s problem?” Cameron asked.
Ken sat next to her without a word.
It was clear from the skeptical expression on Cameron’s face that he still didn’t believe in her communicating abilities.
Cilla looked down at her hands. She knew what his reaction was going to be even before she opened her mouth. But he did ask.
“Two problems, actually,” she said and looked him straight in the eye. “First of all, where did you get him?”
“Why is that important? I got him from someone in Bredasdorp,” he said, clearly taken aback.
“And you drove through Caledon?” Cilla asked.
“Yeah, that’s the only way,” he said irritably.
Cilla smiled. “Well, then I understand. Bravo caught the scent of a particular mare on his way here and he wants to, well, he wants to mate with her.” She ignored the blush that crept up her neck. “I could be wrong, but I think I know exactly which mare he wants. And the other thing is …”
Cameron swore and jumped up but Cilla ignored him and continued with her sentence. “… he’s bored.”
Cameron’s fingers folded around the back of the chair, his knuckles turned white. Just as she had thought – he didn’t want to believe that the solution to Bravo’s problems were actually very simple.
“He wants to mate? There is a whole bloody stable full of mares, where the hell do you get this cr … nonsense!” he shouted. “And bored? So what is it that he would like to do? Shall I take him to the movies?”
Ken held up a hand to silence Cameron. “Why do you say that?” he asked Cilla.
Cameron lifted the chair he was holding and dropped it back into place. He started pacing the room.
Cilla lifted one brow but, ignoring him, she spoke to Ken.
“As I said, he caught the smell of a particular mare on his way here.” She glanced over at Cameron. His whole body language was telling her he thought her completely insane.
“My parents’ farm runs alongside the N2 from Bredasdorp. We have a mare, Maggie. She’s chestnut in colour with a black mane and she looks exactly like the …”
Swearing, Cameron turned on her. “Oh, so this is what you do. You are looking to pimp your mare, aren’t you ashamed of yourself?”
Cilla got up so quickly, her chair fell backwards. She gnashed her teeth, trying her best not to say anything but to rather stay calm. Never before had she thought of herself as the violent type, but this man made her so angry, she could throttle him.
Inhaling deeply, trying to calm herself and her galloping heart, she spoke again. “I’m not sure that Maggie, who by the way is not for sale, especially to you, is actually the mare Bravo has in mind, but, for his sake and if you agree, I will bring her here. Temporarily.”
She bent, picked up the chair and sat down again. Her hands were shaking, she was so upset, so angry. She took a deep breath, willed herself to calm down. Ignoring Cameron, she spoke to Ken.
“What you should remember is that every horse has a very particular personality. The term ‘horsenality’ was coined to refer to the system of understanding horses through their personality types. Just like humans can be understood by looking at personalities. Not all of us are the same and we react differently in situations. I will have to spend more time with Bravo before I will really know, but I think he’s a right-brain extrovert. He’s impulsive, can’t be still, he’s nervous, can be easily frightened. He’s energetic and athletic with lots of endurance. He notices things around him. If you know and understand his personality type, you will be able to handle him.”
She glared at Cameron. “Handle him correctly, that is.”
Cameron stormed closer. “And I suppose now you also want to analyze me?”
Cilla felt like punching him, but she kept her cool and lifted her chin. “No, that is not part of my job. But if you were a horse, I’d say you are a left brain introvert. You’re argumentative, stubborn, pushy and you don’t listen to what other people have to say.”
He narrowed his eyes. The muscle in his cheek jumped up and down, a clear indication he was gnashing his teeth. Before he could say anything though, she turned to Ken.
“Let me know if you want me to bring Maggie over. This is, of course, when you can convince this … this stubborn, difficult boss of yours I don’t have a hidden agenda.”
Cameron laughed sarcastically. Cilla ignored him.
“Bravo is also bored; you’re handling him too gently. He wants to use his legs, he needs more activity. Let him run free. He’s frustrated and feels fenced in. Also, someone is hitting him. Make sure that doesn’t happen again, it’s completely unnecessary. Violence is never the answer.”
“Do you have any idea how utterly ridiculous you sound?” Cameron asked.
Cilla continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “Remember, in nature, horses are prey animals, the hunted. Safety is their primary concern and fear is their