A few days had past by with Celeste enjoying Westin’s company in the cold days of winter. They both worked together hand in hand taking care of the farms chores, and when evening time came around, Celeste taught Westin how to use her Slingshot as they sat around a campfire trying not to freeze their buns off. “Ya have to focus Westin and stay steady when aiming the damn thing, if ya don’t watch out you might shoot your eye out,” Celeste demanded to Westin to heed her words. Westin is having a pickle of a hard time learning her weapon when Celeste stood over his shoulder and bent down to instruct him. Her breast grazes his back and leans against him when she shows the city slicker how to shoot. Westin is proud of himself for accomplishing keeping his manhood in check swearing he would never be caught with his pants down around Celeste again; especially, when he realized she had a sharp witty tongue that backed up her intelligent brain. For three days he found the cowgirl extremely brilliant, and deep in her opinions in life lessons. At times he knew he couldn’t hold a candle stick to the girl’s book knowledge, but when it came to them talking about sex at the dinner table Westin sat in awe of how she connects animal sex behavior to the same as humans. “Move dog you’re in my way,” Celeste softly called out to the big black monster. The dog moved and laid down on the cold dirt next to Westin. “Does he have a name beside dog Celeste?” Westin shook his head out of the naughty thoughts of sucking on her nipples on day. Celeste stood up straight and gives her attention to the mutt. The mixture of a Great Dane and Lab canine gives her a puppy dog wag with his tail, she softens her eyes upon the dog. “I haven’t thought to give the dog a name Westin for he will leave me one day, besides I don’t own him.”
Westin turns around to face the cowgirl, “You mean to tell me that all the animals you have on this farm has no name?” Celeste thought about it and nodded yes, “Well you named your horse Chief.” Celeste spoke up carefully, “I didn’t name him, my grandfather did.” Westin saw the door open to her past and began to question the girl about her life. “What was your grandfather’s name?” Celeste scrunched up her brow wondering how much to tell the young man who seems to tip toe around her life. “Henry,” she offered in a short and sweet way. “Will you tell me about him Celeste?” She gives him an unsure glance and gives the heaven a stare in silent prayer up above. For the first time in Celeste’s life she opened the gateway to Henry’s pass. For over an hour she sat on a stump shivering from the cold and telling her story. Westin learnt she hated talking about the pass, and found she had curved around certain situations to allow no one to have ammunition against her. He feels her sorrow and lonely life burst forth, yet watches the girl’s eyes glow with love and admiration for her savior in life. Celeste finished giving Westin a little history of her grandfather and sat silently watching the flames of the fire burn bright. “So all those guns in the house belong to him? And all the engines, and wood working tools in the barn is his?” Celeste nods yes quietly and returns to her deep thoughts of the pass. “Who did the horseshoe statue?” Celeste answered softly, “I did. I welded it myself to pass the lonely time away after my papa died.” Westin marveled at the news she was the artist who put the artwork together. “Is there anything you can’t do Celeste?” She drops her hand down to pet the black dog, “I believe there is, but can’t think of anything off hand except I despise the use of guns.” Westin reaches for her hand with care, she gives him a half a grin. “What happened to you’re parents?” She didn’t expect him to ask her so soon but knew it was a matter of time before curiosity killed the cat. “I lost my mother one day in the hollers of Alabama when I was a little girl. I believe she suffered serious bouts of depression and lost her noodles one day. To this day I have heard nothing of her being alive; however, I use to have dreams that she died down a long hole in the earth never to be found, so I assume she is dead. As for my father, he’s a musician who turned out to be an alcoholic who never grew up. He might still be alive today, but I haven’t seen nor heard from the man for over six years since my grandfather became my legal guardian.” Celeste gives Westin a dark threatening stare. “You may not investigate further into my pass Westin I will tell you no more about my family. The pass is the pass and can’t be change, the only thing I can do is move forward and never look back without harboring ill feelings. It’s negative energy that needs to be fed to allow a human to suffer and lose their heart and soul to grieves. Besides there is no manual out there that teaches us how to be a good parent. We all must learn what is right or wrong in our path of wisdom, and not pass on traits that are undesirable that could cause harm to ones soul and self worth.” Westin got the picture the minute she spit out her warning.
“I am adopted Celeste, so I know about kinship and heartache.” Celeste gives Westin a surprised glance. “Let’s go inside, I see you’re lips turning blue. How about a nice cup of hot chocolate and us snuggling into bed with me instructing you about the art of romance. Celeste beamed with joy hearing his words. She stands with dog in tow and leaves the fire behind to die out on its own. Westin tags alone beside the cowgirl who seems to heal nicely from his loving care. Tonight would be his last night to be around the cowgirl for days to follow. He had used up all his time at work and missed his little brother to no end. Not to mention his girlfriend Sandra was probably on the prowl to find out his ware bouts. “Westin can you put a big log on the fire in the living room while I take a hot shower?” Westin knew the routine and happily went on to bid her simple request. He smiled wickedly to himself of thinking to join the girl in the shower. He rumbles a quiet laughter in his chest on what her reaction might be to learn lesson one…”How to romance a man in the shower.” He throws a log on the burner and sits down on a leather chair to watch the fire. Quiet minutes tick by when he begins to think about the what if’s in the shower with Celeste. The young buck shakes his soft brown hair lose from its restriction of a hair tie, and decides to execute his decision to head to the shower room to give Celeste her first instruction. He takes a couple of deep breathes before entering the steamy room to control the butterflies fluttering around in his tummy, and turns the knob on the door ready to fulfill Celeste’s sexual appetite with visual aids.
picture by: sunlightsucks.com