This work of adult fiction, loosely based on characters portrayed by Russell Crowe, includes adult language and experiences; you have been warned. No copyright infringement on the original work is intended.
Copyright Diana Walker 2006.




TERRY
“Think about it overnight. The correct answer will come to you in the shower in the morning. We'll talk about it when I get home tomorrow.”

Diana is finally used to me thinking of The Hawthorne as home. She no longer pauses that beat it takes for her to register “home,” marvel at the usage, doubt my sincerity, and move on the real subject.

The laughter bubbled in her voice. “Terry, if I think about it overnight, the right answer won't come.”

“Right then. Let your subconscious chew on it. Good night, Lady. I love you.”

“I love you, too. See you tomorrow.”


This had been a quick overnight trip to LA, SF, and Vancouver for meet and greets with a client in each city. Diana hadn't asked for my itinerary, and I hadn't volunteered it. I took the red eye back into Dallas.

I let myself in quietly, hear the shower running, and leave a trail of clothes and briefcases through the hall, into the bedroom, and my shirt lands in the clothes hamper in the en suite. Diana has the sliding shower door half open as usual so it doesn't rattle as I step in behind her. From my reaction to her, you'd think I'd been gone for a week or more, not two nights.

Neither my “Want your back scrubbed?” nor my nuzzle on her neck surprises her. She reaches behind and pulls me towards her back, gulping out, “I'm glad you're home,” from under the shower spray.

“How did you know it was me?”

Diana turns in my arms for a proper hello, her back scrub forgotten for the time being. “Holly barked her 'Terry's home' bark, and while I was looking out the window to check for Holly's leap of joy to be sure, Buck came over to the fence.”

“A most efficient alarm system, at least where I'm concerned.” Diana manouevers me closer to the shower head, my back blocking the stream so our kisses do not drown us. We might die from oxygen deprivation from their length, but water will not be a factor.

“Very effective for anyone. Holly's bark is like having a different ring tone for each person on your cell phone. Next time Max and/or Reags come over, pay attention to her bark; she has the same bark for both of them. She has to conserve bark tones so she can have a different bark for the mailman and the trash guys. I always know who's coming.”

“And what does the little Bugger add to the alarm system?” Diana pinches my arse for the slur on her cur.

“He runs over and tells Holly someone is coming. He's the one who notices arrivals first.”

“I'd really prefer you have them with you in the house when I'm gone.”

“Who'd alert me when someone is coming? We'd need a peacock to shriek. That would scare the horses, and I'd have to ask the axe murderer to hold up on chopping my head off and help me get the horses settled down before he got to work. Then he'd be too tired, particularly if I sent him after Rabbit; I wouldn't tell him the secret to catching Rabbit is to grab his tail. The failure in accomplishing his task would be too embarrassing for him. Imagine him going back to the Axe Murderers' Union Hall and having to report he hadn't finished the job. He'd be jeered out of the union. So no peacocks.”

Even when Diana is mocking me, she can make me laugh with her outrageous scenarios. Using the horses in this one told me her subconscious had been working on my proposal; the horse reference had leaked through to her conscious mind.

“You think having the Juniors come to Texas to work for us is a good idea?”

“I do.” Some day those words will have more meaning than affirming the mundane subjects she uses them for now.

“Let's ring him and make the offer then.”

“Don't you want to know my reasons? And what about my back wash? Besides we don't have a phone in the shower.”

“Right then.” I edge her to the corner where the shower spray will be available for lather yet not drown either of us, reluctantly turn her back to me, lift her hands to brace against the marbled wall, and begin to soap her back with the vanilla body lotion she loves. “Tell me your thoughts whilst you still can.”

“I've called on Nancy far too often to take care of the horses for me, and now that we have Cash, Pepper, Emira, and Jack added to the herd, I'm afraid it's too much work for her.

“Bill's getting older, too. Asking him to hay the additional 100 acres on top of his 300 is too much.

“Third,” her real reason is coming up. “I want to be able to spend more time with you.”

I give up her back scrub, at least with my hands; Diana will relinquish some of her hands on work with the horses for me. She has given me another reason to believe I am the love of her life.

I drop my head to her shoulder and mold to her, my heart humbled by her quiet words.


DIANA
Terry and I have finally found a computer chair solid enough for both of us to work at the house computer together and survive our non-computer related activities. Yes, a much easier way for us to look at the same screen would be for the information to be on one of our laptops with us seated on the couch or stretched out on the bed, but we have become quite fond of the good times we’ve had at the desk in the kitchen. I can't buy a new bed with him but am more than willing to plop on his lap in the middle of Office Depot to try out an office chair. People actually sleep on a mattress, even Terry and I; two people on an office chair screams “Sex Toy Tryout!” I know; it doesn't make sense to me either.

Overnight I put together the duties both the Juniors are to perform. The list for the human seems to be reasonable; he should be amenable to all of them – repair work around the place, feeding, and haying. Getting Junior, the cat, to acquiesce to his duties is an entirely different matter. It would be like, well, herding cats. I am pleased with myself for making Terry giggle at my negotiating strategy for the cat.

I came up with what I thought was a VERY competitive pay package – monthly salary and housing. I'd have to get started finding a modular home or double-wide trailer for the Juniors to live in. To be able to afford hiring the Juniors, I'd have to take in three more horses. That shouldn't be too difficult. With Junior's easy manner, I think I can handle difficult boarders.

Terry points to the screen at the expense for getting their housing. “We can seal the deal with Junior. He can live in the old Bowen place. We can pay the utilities.”

“He won't like it when we traipse down there to use the pool.”

“That will only be for the next six weeks. We can fit a lap pool on the north side of the dog yard. The pool contractor says he can start next week.”

I can only shake my head and smile. I knew it was only a matter of time until a functional swimming pool would appear. “I'm surprised it took you so long.”

Terry reaches around me and types in additional duties to both the lists – the human's and the cat's. Junior gets pool maintenance added, and Junior gets house snake removal appended to his.

“I'm not going to have to worry about you having a pash with the pool guy, will I?”

“Why would you think that?”

“I listened to you go on about Junior's skin for 50 miles coming home from East's when we first discussed this.”

Junior has the most beautiful cafe au lait color, smooth skin. Even with my love for Terry, I crave running my hands over Junior's arms; his skin is that beautiful. He's Jamaican, and his speech is lilting and comforting at the same time. He's a bit overweight; it makes him look like a thin Michelin Man.

“If you're worried about me going after the pool guy, maybe you could clean it yourself.” The look I get is withering. I have miscommunicated my intent. I don't care he would rather hire out the physical labor around the farm that I can't do myself. “You’re the only pool boy in the world for me. You know how your black running shorts get to me.” Ah, yes. He remembers how his last morning run was canceled though his legs did get a good work out.

I have one more condition about the pool. “OK, I'm not wild about the pool so close to the house; the chance of a snake getting in is so much greater with a water supply near. I want a sawed off shot gun so all I have to do is point the barrel at any snake that gets into the house and pull the trigger to kill it. We'll worry about rebuilding the wall later.”

Terry makes me a counter offer. I gather he’s not wild about having an illegal weapon in the house. “If a snake gets in the house, all you have to do is call, and I’ll come kill it.”

That would be one way to get him home from Thailand early.

“Deal.” We shake on it. While he still has my hand, he says with an impish tone, “You do know that it will take me at least 14 hours flying time to get home from my sphere of influence? You might be better off turning the little Bugger loose on it.”

I heave a long suffering sigh with a smile on my face.

We agree the first question for Junior is his immigration status. If he doesn't have the legal right to work in the US, we will go no farther and turn the conversation to a friendly chat.

The phone call goes astonishingly well. Junior has a green card, one of the perqs for having worked horses for a Senator.

We email pictures of the Bowen house, not that Junior has asked for them, while we are on the speakerphone. Working as a groom over the years, his housing has ranged from a well-appointed apartment over the barn to a dorm room filled with other workers. The Bowen house will look like a castle to him. Junior's silence elicits a concerned look between Terry and me.

“Junior, are you still there? Did we lose you?”

“It's a beautiful house, but it's so big. I won't be able to afford the electric bill.”

“That's included in the housing. We'll pay it. Of course, you may not be pleased when Diana comes down and starts turning off the lights in the unused rooms.”

I knit my brows and frown at Terry. I'm not really upset with him, but I don't want to scare away our potential new help. Junior is very close to perfect. “I'm not that intrusive, Junior.” We can hear his soft laughter, born of many years around horses.

“And you are paying me a monthly salary in addition?”

Terry nods at the phone, encouraging me to seal the deal. “Yes, minus all the required taxes. You'll report to me so you get to tell Terry to pound sand if he asks you to do something that you don't want. As long as the jobs I need get done, you can work a second job if you'd like.”

At times like this I really wish we had a video computer hookup. Instead I have to imagine his beatific smile. “I could get Celeste and the children here that much more quickly. I accept your job offer, but I've never farmed before. I can evaluate a good bale of hay, but I've no idea how it gets to that point.”

“No wurries, Mate. Our neighbor farms hay on 300 acres. Bill will take you under his wing and show you the ropes.”

“Junior and I can be on the road tomorrow.”

“I'll have a hot meal ready for you. See you in a couple of days.”

“Junior, you're a godsend. Thanks.”


TERRY
We devised a surprise, signing bonus for Junior. Diana wormed the information I needed out of him the first few days they worked together. She also got his full name out of him – Kenneth Jermaine Darmley, Junior. Now all I had to do was make it happen.

Dino didn't have any contacts in the US Embassy in Kingston; at least he had the priority telephone number. I would have to slog through the immigration red tape for Celeste, Kenneth III, Cole, and Nona.

I sighed and dialled. “American Embassy. How may I direct your call?”