Breaking the Drought

It wasn't the red checked shirt that caught her eye that afternoon as she slung a saddle over the metal rail, nor was it the long blonde hair blowing in the wind that had sprung up a few hours ago. It was the look in her eyes that caught and held her attention for a moment in time, there was a hint of longing, a quiet desperation that reminded her of home. Her childhood hometown brought in tourists by the hundred every summer and the women preened themselves, hoping that somewhere amongst the men there was a potential Prince Charming or even just an ordinary man looking for an ordinary woman.

Wendy leaned on the corral and studied the woman for a moment, she looked to be about twenty five but it was hard to tell from this distance, but she had been noticed for the woman was walking towards her, a brown bag dangling from her shoulder. The shirt was tied off above her pierced navel and she had to have been poured into those skin tight Levis. Wendy smiled, sometimes she was glad she kept in her closet, it gave her a chance to study the women without them realizing they were being studied. Texan women had a distinctive walk, and this particular woman was no different. Wendy pulled herself back from the brink and fluffed out her hair.

"Hiya," she grinned, "you come to look over my babies?"

"Yeah," she looked past her at the horses hobbled nearby, "nice horses."

"Yeah," she glanced over her shoulder, "they're my babies and my only means of income, name's Wendy Dawson, we're the wild west contingent of this traveling fair."

"Samantha McLeary," she nodded, "you riding in the show tonight?"

"Me?" she tapped her breast, "nope, this sport is hard on you, I pulled a tendon a few years back and decided to retire but then Frank, the owner of this show made me an offer I couldn't refuse and the rest is history. He's the boss but I run this part of it and we do all right."

"You don't look so old," Samantha looked her up and down, "you're what, thirty?"

"Why thank you," she smiled, "but you can add another six years to that number and you win the grand prize."

"You don't say," Samantha studied her, "so you do this full time?"

"Six months of the year, the other six I stay with my brother and his wife in Montana."

"No man?" her eyes widened.

"A man?" Wendy smirked, "now what would I be wanting with a man and all? I've been done with men a long long time ago."

"Oh," Samantha's eyes widened, "so you're like into women?"

"Yeah," she turned back to her, "I like women on account they don't leave dirty socks lying around and no women yet has ever made me miss my period."

Samantha chuckled.

"Yeah I'm with ya there," she squinted at the striped tent off to her right, "the men here are much the same although I haven't tried the women yet," she flicked at her hair.

"Well it ain't all beer and skittles, honey," she cocked an eyebrow, "we got our dark side too."

"I guess," she squinted, "so do you think I could meet your babies?"

"Yeah, why not," she ran an eye over her sandals, "we might have to find you a pair of boots though. I'd hate one of them to step on those toes."

"Oh I'll be careful," she grinned, "my mom and her boyfriend have horses back on the ranch."

"And where are they?"

"Mom is outside of El Paso on a ranch, she's been with her boyfriend since I was a year old. I never knew my real dad, so I guess Bob is my dad," she moved towards the gate, "I moved here with my man but he lit out for the big city and never came back."

"Well that's a damn shame," Wendy managed a moment later.

"No it ain't," she murmured, "there's no doubt that Eddie's engine was running but there wasn't nobody driving, we're better off apart. Mama always said I could do better," she handed over her bag and fluffed out her hair.

"So, you got kids?"

Wendy bit her lip, "nope, I came close once but I miscarried, a boy."

"What was his name?" she pushed her hair over her ear as she handed over the second sandal.

"Josh," she swallowed the memory, "he's buried back home in West Virginia, well he's got a gravestone out in my parent's yard, nothing under it, just dirt. They had him out in half an hour and disposed of, not many people ask his name."

"I ain't most people," she moved towards the horses, "they say that no good thing ever dies, it just gets reborn as something else," she held out her hand and cooed.

"That's a boy, you got nothing to be scared of," she tickled a horse's head, "yes ma'am, your boy ain't gone, he's still with you," she moved through the herd and Wendy held her breath. Her bare feet were totally unprotected but she skipped nimbly past the horses. Wendy bit back the memory, how long had it been since she'd mentioned that and more to the point, why had she mentioned it?

She wasn't aware of Jake's presence until he coughed.

"She wearing shoes?"

"Nope," she shook her head, "you wanna do me a favor and fetch me a first aid kit, I got the feeling we gonna need it."

"Call her back," he stepped forward.

"Too late," she fell into step beside him as Samantha reappeared leading a horse by the head, her hand was just under its head and her other hand had hold of the mane.

"You reckon I can ride her around here? I'll pay you for it."

Wendy looked down at her painted toenails and sighed.

"Honey, you walked in amongst fifteen horses, in bare feet and came out without a scratch, you can ride for free," she nodded at Jake, "fetch me a bridle and saddle and try and find her some boots."

"No need for a saddle or boots," she replied, "just a bridle."

It was poetry in motion she murmured to Jake a few minutes later as the young woman cantered around the corral, the dress riding high up her perfectly tanned thighs.

"I'll bet she's got nice legs too," he put his elbow on her shoulder.

"I ain't talking about the legs," she frowned, "but now you mention it, the girl has got rhythm, you'd almost think she was part horse."

It was true, the woman was almost fused to the bay mare and Wendy found herself drawn to the look on her face, it was as if she was in a different world. Gone was the hungry look she'd had worn a few minutes ago to be replaced with a satisfied smirk as she circled the herd, cutting in and out rising and falling in perfect rhythm. The mare settled into an easy pace as she cantered past Wendy and Jake and she shot her a sly grin.

"She's got an easy gait," she turned suddenly and drove the horse around the outskirts, a couple of horses whinnied and followed her as she circled the corral a couple of times before drawing to a halt. She stared at Wendy and grinned.

"Beautiful horse, what's her name?"

"Crackling Rosie," she called out.

Samantha eased the mare through the herd her hands swept over their coats as she murmured something under her breath and when she broke through to the other she turned and slid off Crackling's back and put her forehead to the mare's head.

"Fine horse," she drew back and smiled, "I haven't ridden for a while."

"You wouldn't know," Wendy looked at her with renewed interest, "you must have ridden a lot when you were younger.

"I was born in the saddle," she grinned, "literally, my mom went into labor when she was in the stable and by the time the paramedics got there I was lying on a blanket inside an upturned saddle, the rest is history."

"You want a coffee?" Wendy nodded at the motor home on the other side of the corral, "I was just about to make some when you showed up."

"Nope," she took her sandals, "but a Coke would go down well, it's so dry even the trees are whistlin' for the dogs."

Wendy's motor home was her most expensive asset she informed her a minute or two later.

"I actually own this home," she smiled as they exited the bedroom, "my brother is still paying off his mortgage. My monthly rent when I'm there helps keep the bank from the door."

"Can't ask for much more than that," she collapsed into the gray couch, "so how long is the show in town for?"

"We got our last night tonight," she flicked the switch on the coffeepot, she glanced over her shoulder, "I can fix you up with a free pass if you want?"

"You trying to seduce me?" she raised an eyebrow smilingly.

"No, I," she stopped and grinned.

"So what turned you onto women?" she crossed her legs, "if you don't mind me saying you're hotter than a two dollar whore on July Fourth."

"I'll take that as a compliment," she chuckled and hooked her thumbs over her belt, "I just got turned onto women after my marriage broke up. I'd been out with a few guys but it wasn't going anywhere and then one night this woman who was working as an acrobat in the circus came onto me one night."

"Must have been some night," Samantha slid a hand beneath the collar of her shirt, "to keep you turned on like that."

"Yeah, it was," she smiled sadly, "she got with another woman when I was home visiting my mom, I came back and found she had someone else in her bed."

"Ain't love a bitch, huh?"

"I was heartbroken," she smirked, "really, she was my first, I had this thing for her, I went back to men for a few months and then one night I met some woman in a bar out in Wyoming, took her back here and we went for it. I think after that I realized what I was and just accepted that love is the same no matter what your orientation."

"So," she looked up, "you got a partner now?"

"Nope," she sighed, "kind of hard to find a meaningful relationship when you're always on the move."

"So you meet a lot of one night stands?"

"I meet a few," she confessed, "hell I'm not against the idea but I kind of keep myself to myself, don't get much time for it. I'm usually too beat at the end of the day for playing."

"You ain't that old," Samantha studied her, "you know what they say, all work and no play."

"Well I guess if I was straight," she mused, "but being the way I am, it's kind of hard to work out who is and who isn't."

"And by the time you've figured it all out, it's time to move on," Samantha finished for her.

"Yeah," she smirked, "but my aim is getting better with age."

"So how many notches are carved on your bedpost," Samantha raised the Coke to her lips.

"I ain't telling," she blushed.

"Go on," Samantha chuckled, "sorry, don't mind me, I'm always this up front," she looked down at her breasts, "it kind of goes with the territory. Out here if you don't get back in the saddle you get eaten by coyotes."

"So what do you do when you're not flirting with lesbians?" Wendy shot back.

"You mean when I'm not cow tipping?" Wendy smiled and smoothed out her skirt, "I got a part time job out at Walmart four days a week, Thursday and Friday night I'm a barmaid and on Saturday night I got a regular gig out at Ms Molly's."

"A regular gig."

"I sing, mostly country but I do requests if they tip me. I'll play Dancing Queen if they throw cash into my guitar case."

"So how good are you?"

"What? In front of a mike or in bed?"

"The first one," Wendy winced.

"Sorry, I just had to slip that one in," she fished a phone out of her bag, "I got my own You Tube channel, Samantha McLeary," she activated the screen and tapped an icon.

"Hard to believe I've got ten thousand fans," she flicked the screen and then handed it over.

"Two hundred videos and counting."

Wendy's eyes were drawn to a McLeary cover of an Allison Moorer song, A Soft Place To Fall, it was filmed in a studio and her eyes shifted to Samantha as she listened to a good rendering of an old country classic.

"Where did you film this?"

"The garage," she replied, "when my ex moved his old clunker out of the garage I moved my stuff in, I'm sharing it with a girlfriend," she smiled.

"Not that kind of girlfriend either, it's all filmed there and uploaded. I did a whole thirty five minute session in there last year and my ratings shot right up," she leaned back into the couch.

"As of right now I've had fifty marriage proposals and four times that number who just wanna bang my ass but thankfully I get enough kind comments to keep me going."

She was seductive, there was no getting over it, even Jake, who came in halfway through the conversation could spot it and he was usually a little slower on the uptake than the average male. She was talkative and overtly seductive and Wendy found herself becoming distinctly aroused, she was smart, beautiful and sassy. She leaned heavily towards outgoing extrovert types to balance out her inward looking personality. By the time she farewelled Samantha, Wendy had the impression she hadn't seen the last of the leggy Texan.

"As big as Texas," Jake remarked off handedly a few hours later as he adjusted his hat, "that woman is playing you."

"I ain't into one night stands," she protested.

"Why not?" he swung into the saddle, "you're a long time dead."

Wendy opened her mouth to say something but shut it again as he looked across and grinned, "and speaking of heaven on two legs, here she comes herself."

The gold colored satin blouse was decorated with white fringes and fastened with black buttons and tucked into tight blue jeans that looked as if she'd been poured into them and someone forgot to say stop. The white mid length boots were elaborately decorated and matched the white mother of pearl belt buckle, her hair had been brushed until it shone. Wendy suddenly felt dowdy compared to the blonde, her white shirt and blue jeans more the plain Jane variety but Samantha didn't seem to notice as she touched her white stetson.

"Howdy, ma'am, I've come to escort you to the shindig."

Wendy chuckled and Samantha rolled her eyes, "well, what the hell, I came for my free ticket."

"Allow me," Wendy nodded at the gate, "let me lead you up the garden path, we'll go in the back door."

"Ooh, I always did love my back door," she shot a cheeky smile in Jake's direction and was rewarded with a smile.

Nevertheless it was with a trembling heart that she led her in through the rear entrance and found her a seat, promising to return with some popcorn.

Was this really happening? She chanced a look in her direction as she headed for the popcorn stand, and if it was happening, what did she do now?

By the time the trick riders came on, Wendy was still mulling over her next move. Samantha however was leaning forward to study the riders, a slight smile played over her features as the riders weaved in and out. Wendy felt pressure on her leg and looked down suddenly to find Samantha's hand gripping her thigh, a thumb rubbed her gently as the riders wheeled around to the muted applause. Samantha joined in, whooping as they rode past again. Wendy felt the warmth in her belly beginning to spread. God she looked amazing, the aroma of apple blossom drifted past her nose and she drank in the headiness, losing herself in the magnificent mane of strawberry blonde hair that danced over her shoulders whenever she turned her head. What would it take to entice her out of that shirt?

She pulled herself back from the brink in time and focused on the show instead, normally she was a keen observer of her crew, watching their moves carefully for signs of fatigue but tonight Samantha seemed to fill her vision almost completely, so much so that when she leaned across and brushed her lips over her mouth, Wendy almost opened her mouth.

"Thanks for the ticket, I had a great time."

"No problem," she blinked.

Samantha shot her a cheesy grin and squeezed her hand, "I'll drop by before you go, just to see my new friend."

"She means the horse," Wendy sighed in answer to Jake's upraised eyebrow as Samantha sauntered away to the temporary parking lot, "looks like I gave away a free ticket to a flirt."

"It happens," he nudged her, "don't take it so hard, in your position I'd have bought her a meal as well."

"You and me both," she pulled a wry grimace, "still, she was some babe."

"You can always invite her around for a private after the show party," he pressed her.

"I think not," she winced, "what would she see in me anyway."

"You're too hard on yourself," was his parting comment.

It was true, she reasoned a half hour later as she stepped up into the motor home and closed the door, she had had chances before but most of the time she passed them up, preferring the fantasy to the real thing. At least then she had control, the women in her fantasies were always gorgeous and sensual and not once did they have a bad day. She pulled the shirt out of her jeans and stared at her reflection in the mirror as she sank onto the bed. Dark blonde hair fell past her shoulders but it was nothing like the thick tresses of the woman she'd sat beside tonight, her waist was a little thicker than it should be, her legs too short.

A knock sounded at the door and she sat up suddenly. Jake again? She stumbled through to the front door and unlatched it.

"Howdy doody," Samantha grinned, "told you I'd be back."

Wendy blinked into the night.

"Come in," she stepped backwards.

Samantha entered and shutting the door, leaned against it.

"Well here we are," she regarded her.

"Yup, here we are," Wendy inhaled, "all alone."

"I brought you some liquid refreshment," she held up a bottle of Jack Daniels.

"My favorite friend," Wendy replied.

"Mine too," Samantha collapsed into the sofa and held the bottle up, "fill me up?"

"With pleasure," she pulled her eyes from her sumptuous breasts, "you want ice?"

"Ice is good out here, I like ice on my tongue," she ran a hand down her front, "and my nipples, in fact I like it everywhere."

"Kind of like cream?"

"Ooh, don't get me started on cream," she purred.

"I won't," Wendy handed her a drink, "here get that down you."

She settled into the couch beside her a few moments later and stretched out her legs, they clinked glasses and she let the alcohol take effect. They drained two glasses in relative silence although Samantha seemed to be able to drink faster and it was definitely having an effect on her as she poured a third glass.

"I hope you aren't planning on driving home tonight."

"Who said I'm driving home?" Samantha glanced over her shoulder and smiled.

It was a smile that turned her inside out. She'd seen that smile before but she still didn't make a move or give any encouragement as she raised her glass.

"Well I could go another."

"Ooh, you're gonna be drunker than a two dollar whore," she giggled.

"I aim to misbehave," she put a hand on Samantha's back and kept it there while she filled the glasses, "so here you are with a tired old lesbian."

"You're not old," Samantha leaned back suddenly, trapping her hand behind her, "I'd fuck you."

"You would huh?" Wendy smirked, "well I can't say I'd kick you out of bed for farting."

"You haven't smelled my farts," she laughed.

"So, what are you planning on doing with me?" Wendy wondered out loud as she sniffed her drink.

"That's the million dollar question," Samantha turned to face her and propped her elbow against the wall, this caused her left breast to push forward against the satin shirt and a smile nudged her lips as Wendy glanced at her breasts.

"What are we gonna do?"

Wendy angled to face her as she took another mouthful of whiskey and then she reached out and hooked her finger behind the shirt and pulled outwards. She had her eyes locked on Samantha's, waiting for a response, a cry of indignation or shock but instead Samantha was smiling crookedly and then she grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand downwards. The press stud popped loose and she leaned forward and brushed her lips against hers in a tender kiss.

"Now you've gone done it, there ain't no way to save yourself now."

She kissed her again and Wendy had the presence of mind to put the drink down as the younger woman moved forward and tilted her head as the kiss became more passionate. They parted a few moments later and Wendy exhaled.