The Whisperer. Elsa Winckler
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Cameron asked, not bothering to hide his sarcasm. “You’re not sure? How come? You seem to be sure of everything else!”
Cilla ignored him and stood up. Slowly this time. “Well, that’s my advice, use it, don’t use it. You don’t believe me and you don’t trust me, so my suggestion is, find another solution. I obviously can’t help you. Under the circumstances, I don’t think we’ll be staying for lunch …”
Just at that moment, Imke entered from the kitchen, looking dazed and pleased with the world. “Cilla, Philip can cook like an angel, you have to taste what he’s made. He’s busy with …”
“I think we should go,” Cilla interrupted.
“Oh, but you have to taste …” She continued before she realized something else was going on and stopped speaking. She looked from Cameron to Cilla. “Let me guess – he doesn’t believe you.”
Cilla nodded and took Imke’s arm. “I think we should go.”
Cameron stared at Cilla, not sure whether he wanted to laugh or cry. What the hell! All this nonsense about horsenalities and auras and energies. The woman was obviously completely crazy.
Philip put his head around the door. “What’s going on? I feel very negative vibes coming from this room.”
Cameron glared at his brother. “Don’t you start as well. Excuse me,” he growled and walked quickly towards the front door. He needed fresh air. Lots and lots of fresh air. Where the hell did the woman get her insane ideas? She was so far removed from reality, it was ridiculous.
But hell, she was beautiful. When she coolly looked at him and told him he was a left or right or whatever brain, he wanted to grab hold of her and take her to his room.
And those eyes. She put up a cool façade but just one look in her eyes revealed the passion of a full-blooded woman. It would be very interesting to watch her when she forgot to be cool and collected. His blood started boiling at the mere thought.
He lengthened his stride. That was the last thing he should be thinking about. Yes, she was beautiful, but so were a million other women. And as he very well knew, on this farm, beautiful women were a curse not a blessing.
He didn’t want this woman on his farm, he didn’t want her messing with his head, and he definitely didn’t want her around his horse. Chi energy – what a lot of bull.
Just because she was beautiful and had the most amazing eyes, it didn’t mean he was going to let her loose on his farm.
“What did you tell him?” Philip asked, amused.
“I told him Bravo was bored, he wanted a specific mare, and I think his aura is an indication that he’s anaemic.”
Philip burst out laughing.
“And she told him that he was a left brain … what were the words again?” Ken asked and both men laughed heartily.
By this time Cilla had enough of men and especially of the lot she had to put up with this morning. She pulled at Imke’s sleeve. “Let’s go.”
But Philip moved quickly and grabbed each one’s hand. “Look, I’m sorry, we’re being very rude. Cilla, if you know my brother like I know him, you’ll know why he’s reacting the way he does and why we are laughing. Please stay? It doesn’t happen every day that we can entertain two beautiful women like yourselves.”
Ken slapped him on the shoulder. “You’ve never had women here before, let alone beautiful ones like these two. Enjoy yourselves, I’m heading back home. Thanks, Cilla, and don’t worry, we’ll work on Cameron.”
Cilla gave him a very skeptical look.
Ken scratched his head. “I don’t think I understand everything you’re saying but nothing else we’ve tried with Bravo is helping. And don’t worry, I’ll make sure nobody hits him again. And I really hope we’ll see you again. If you can do with horses what you’ve managed to do with school kids, I’ll believe everything you say. Our son is actually reading now. Never thought I’d see the day.”
He moved towards the door and waved. “I hope we’ll see you soon.”
When he was gone, Philip pulled them after him. “I’ve cooked a lovely meal, you’re not going anywhere. I’ve laid the kitchen table; it’s much more pleasant here than in the stuffy dining room. Have a seat, I’m opening a bottle of wine. Cameron … what can I say?”
Shaking his head, he proceeded to open a bottle of wine. “When our mom died, he was still very young. She was thrown off a horse’s back. For him, it was a double loss. Not only did he lose our mom to whom he was very close, we lost a father as well. Dad immediately sold every single horse on the farm, lost all interest in the farm, in us, in life basically. Like our mother, Cameron loved to paint and draw, but my dad stopped his art lessons after our mother’s death and he removed all her paintings from the walls.”
He grimaced. “I think the development of his right brain stopped right there and then. You’re so right when you call him a left brain introvert. He is very logical and analyzes everything to death, and yeah, he’s argumentative and stubborn. The scientist in him only understands what he can see and explain. What you do is totally outside his comfort zone.” He poured them each a glass of wine and took a seat. “But let’s eat and forget about my brother for a while. At some point, his stomach will bring him to the table.”
Cilla inhaled the lovely aromas coming from the dishes on the table. “This smells divine,” she groaned. “Are you also involved in the running of the farm?”
“No, I love the place, make no mistake, but I’m no farmer. I’m a chef. While Cameron was riding horses, I was helping Mom in the kitchen. My dad hoped I’d change with time, but eventually he had to acknowledge the fact that Cameron was the farmer, not me. I have my own restaurant in Hermanus. Let me know when you visit, it would be my pleasure to have you as guests,” he said, his eyes on Imke.
He lifted his glass, his eyes twinkling. “A toast to the woman who has rocked my brother’s world within the span of two days!”
Cilla looked up in surprise. “What are you talking about? He thinks I want to put a spell on Bravo and is not impressed with this mere woman who has the gall to say she can help him with his horse.”
Philip smiled. “So you don’t understand people as well as you understand animals, it seems?”
Cilla pressed her lips together. These bloody Rahl men – they obviously think they have all the answers.
“But tell me, how does one become a horse whisperer? Do you really whisper?” he teased.
Deep breaths, Cilla, deep breaths. As calmly as possible, she tried to answer him. “I don’t whisper, I communicate with animals. And it’s really very simple. All of us are capable of doing it. As kids we know intuitively how to listen to animals, how to let them know what we want. Unfortunately most people lose that ability as they grow older. We live according to a certain set of acceptable rules and ideas. I grew up on a farm and I’ve always just known what the animals around me were feeling and experiencing. And my parents didn’t think it strange when I spoke about it.”
“She’s always been very intuitive,” Imke interrupted and placed a hand on her arm. “She always knows when I’m feeling sad even if we’re not together. And she had an imaginary friend, if I remember correctly until …” she looked at Cilla. “Right up until high school she would sometimes smile at and talk to the air next to her.”
Embarrassed, Cilla shrugged. “His name was Roux. He and I had a wonderful time on the farm. I don’t remember when he left. One day he was just gone.”
She looked up to see the frown on Philip’s face. “See, now you also think me strange.”
Imke touched his shoulder. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to her. And do try and persuade your brother to listen to her. If she says the