by Sable Sylvan
“Three cowboy stallions,” corrected Olivia.
“Isn’t it a little soon to be comparing their cocks?” asked Cayenne.
“I mean they’re literally stallions,” said Olivia. “All three cowboys are horse shifters.”
“Picking all three is smart,” Cayenne admitted.
“Yeah, because if only one ends up liking me, it’s fine,” said Olivia.
“No, I mean that if only one works out, it’s fine,” said Cayenne. “You never know which guy will end up winning your heart. First impressions are weird. People are usually on their best behavior, so you can’t tell the creeps from the good guys. In Basil’s case, sometimes, people mess them up and end up needing to be given a second chance.”
“Don’t remind me. I’m glad you gave Basil a shot. After you gave him that first shot, I didn’t have to hear you whine about a guy you were obviously into,” said Olivia. “You two were and are totally in love.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me,” said Cayenne. “I’m just so worried that this rodeo will be an embarrassment for the family and that, well, he won’t say anything because he loves me too much.”
“Hon, the rodeo is going to be one hundred percent awesome sauce,” said Olivia. “We’ve got the dressage. We’ve got obstacle courses. We’ve got a bitchin’ selection of food vendors. We’re even going to have a frikkin’ petting zoo. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about a thing.”
“Pretty?” asked Cayenne, motioning down to her mud-coated equestrian gear. The summer rain had come out of nowhere and soaked the rodeo grounds, leaving everyone muddy.
“Don’t worry. Your dress is going to look great, regardless of the weather,” insisted Olivia. “I don’t think Basil will complain about seeing a fancy dress get wet and cling to those curves.”
“How is the dress coming?” asked Cayenne.
“It’s a surprise,” said Olivia. “But…I have had some help from Basil in designing it. Don’t worry about a thing. The rodeo will be a huge success on opening day.”
There was a knock at the trailer door. Cayenne got up to answer it.
“Grandma Quiggly,” said Cayenne. “I didn’t expect to see you here!”
Outside, with a pair of rain boots and a paisley umbrella, was the one and only Grandma Quiggly.
“Believe it or not, sugar, I’m not here to see you,” said Grandma Quiggly. “I’m here on business. Olivia, dear, come on out.”
Olivia got up and walked to the door.
“Please, for the love of all that is delicious, tell me that you drove here,” said Grandma Quiggly.
“I did,” Olivia said, confused.
“Then follow me out to my car,” said Grandma Quiggly. “Cayenne, you, too. I could use an extra pair of hands.”
The gals followed the older woman out to Grandma Quiggly’s SUV. Grandma Quiggly’d parked near Cayenne and Olivia’s cars. Grandma Quiggly opened up the SUV while Cayenne held her umbrella for her.
“Now, Olivia, I’ll cut right to the chase,” said Grandma Quiggly. “You’ve received a proposal from a suitor.”
“A proposal?” asked Olivia.
“Not like a marriage proposal,” said Grandma Quiggly. “Just a proposal for a date…although, of course, that could turn into something more if he plays his cards right!”
Grandma Quiggly passed Olivia a hat box tied with a bow. Olivia opened the box. Inside was a cowboy hat in a familiar shade: buckskin. Olivia put the hat on and read the card underneath it.
Dearest Olivia,
Now that you’ve passed Werehorse 101, I think it’s time for an advanced course.
Wear this on our date?
XOXO,
Matthew
“Nice hat,” said Cayenne. “But what does he mean by ‘Warehouse 101’?”
“‘Werehorse,’” corrected Olivia. “You know, like a werebear…but a horse.”
“Next proposal,” said Grandma Quiggly, taking the empty hat box from Olivia for the time being.
“Another one?” asked Olivia.
“Mm-hmm, and let’s hurry. This weather could turn at any moment,” said Grandma Quiggly. She passed Olivia the next box, a long box.
“What is it? A rifle?” asked Cayenne.
“Only in Texas would a girl see a long, thin box with a red bow, and think ‘rifle,’ not ‘roses,’” said Olivia.
Olivia opened the box. Inside was a tool she recognized from Cayenne’s riding practice.
“Is that…” started Cayenne.
“That’s a riding crop,” said Olivia, patting her friend on the bum as a joke. “What the Hell?”
Olivia read the card that had come with the crop.
For Mistress Olivia,
If this gift seems to forward, you’ll just have to punish me.
Your servant,
Dick
“Last one,” said Grandma Quiggly.
“Wait, there’s another?” asked Olivia.
“Yes, and what did I say before about hurrying this up?” asked Grandma Quiggly. “Here.”
The last proposal seemed at first to be a quilted handbag, sensible, with lots of pockets and zips and a waterproof lining. Olivia opened the bag and found a ball of golden yarn and a pair of knitting needles along with a handwritten note.
Hey Olivia,
I’d get us two tickets to the rodeo, but I can’t wait that long to see you again.
Bring this on our next date. You won’t be disappointed, bored, or hungry.
- Jason
“Which one are you going to pick?” asked Cayenne.
“I’m just going to have to give them all a shot,” said Olivia with a smile. “I can’t believe I have three more dates.”
“Oh, honey, this is the easy part,” said Grandma Quiggly. “Of course a curvy girl like you has men falling all over her. The hard part is picking one.”
“I’m sure everything will work out,” said Olivia. “After all, what are the chances I have chemistry with all three of them?”
Chapter Three
Olivia’s date with Matthew was on a sunny Sunday afternoon. She wore jeans that showed off her curves, a lightweight lilac long-sleeved top for sun protection, and a pair of cowboy boots. Her hair was put up, as usual, and stuffed underneath the cowboy hat that Matthew had sent her.
Olivia waited for Matthew to text her that he was there, but five minutes after their scheduled date, there was no text, no phone call. She went outside to her porch to call Cayenne and let her know that one horse had already taken himself out of the running…
…And that’s when she saw the horse in her driveway.
The horse was big, bigger than Strand. His coat was buckskin blond with a black mane and tail, with a dusting of black hair on his calves. The Nordic Fjord horse was a sturdy mare, but she was short compared to the stallion standing at the end of Olivia’s drive, wearing a saddle and carrying a bouquet of flowers in a pouch on its side. The horse was standing at attention, watching Olivia even as he bowed his head in respect.
“Holy shit,” said Olivia. “Matthew, is that you?”
The horses nodded and gave Olivia a wink.
Olivia approached Matthew and looked him over, from mane to tail.
“You’re big,” said Olivia. “Can I…touch you?” Olivia didn’t know much about shifters, but it was common knowledge they didn’t like being touched in their shifts without permission.
Matthew nodded. Olivia smiled, feeling like a maiden princess meeting a unicorn in a mystical glade. She gently touched Matthew’s coat and felt the soft coat of his fur beneath her fingers. He was a bit dusty but otherwise clean. Whoever had helped him groom himself for this date had done an excellent job. Olivia took the flowers inside and put them in a vase while Matthew waited for her in the driveway.
While putting the flowers in a vase, Olivia found a handwritten note.
Dear Olivia,
I can’t talk in my shift. To get to our date, please get on my back and sit in the saddle.
>
Put your feet in the stirrups (the dangly leather and metal things hanging off the side of the saddle). I’ll handle the rest.
Tell me to go faster or slower or whatever. I can’t talk. That doesn’t mean I can’t hear you.
X,
Matt
Olivia couldn’t help but smile. Matt had thought of everything. She headed back out, and Matt helped her get on his back by leaning down to let her up into the saddle. He looked at Olivia and double-checked that she had her feet in the stirrups before he started walking in a light canter.
Olivia had never been on a horse before. She had to admit she was nervous, but being on top of Matt wasn’t scary. It was just exciting. If anything, she was more nervous about their date. She hadn’t exactly expected for him to pick her up on horseback. It didn’t take long for Olivia to figure out how to comfortably sit in the saddle. As Matt carried her through town, she didn’t feel like she was going to topple. In fact, she felt stronger and more secure than she’d ever felt before.
Being on top of a horse felt like being on top of the world. Like most people in Fallowedirt, Olivia had a car. One had to have a car in Fallowedirt to get around town. There was no public transit system, and a taxi system had only been recently introduced via a phone app. Growing up, helping her grandma with errands meant that Olivia needed a car, but while her peers used their cars for dates, Olivia had been busy doing runs to the craft store three towns over for her grandmother. Her small hatchback was suited for that, but even though it might be able to go faster than Matt, the car didn’t make her feel powerful. Riding atop a stallion shifter made Olivia feel like absolute royalty. It was as if an invisible crown had been placed atop her pinned up hair and she was observing her kingdom.
Once they left town, Olivia felt Matt start walking faster, his gait breaking from a trot to a canter. She leaned in, holding onto Matt’s neck with a gentle but steady grip.
“Faster,” said Olivia.
Matt was more than happy to oblige. Taking care not to shake his precious cargo off his back, he broke into a gallop. They were already walking through the miles of prairie that led to Fallowedirt, prairie that had sprung up over the last year from an infusion of shifter magic. The land had been, well, filled with fallow dirt for as long as Olivia had remembered, but the prairie suited the land like the thin fabric and tight denim suited her curves, like Matt’s stallion fit his personality.
Olivia held onto Matt as he galloped through the prairie grasses, kicking up dust in their wake. She was glad she wore a thin shirt, as the day was hot, and Matt’s shift ran hot, too. She could feel his heat as she held his neck between her arms.
Olivia had thought Matt was going to take her to the dude ranch, but then, she realized he was headed for the forest outside of town. There were riding paths there, but when Matt’s hooves hit the cleared dirt pathway, he didn’t stop galloping. The path’s trees had been trimmed back earlier in the season, so Olivia wasn’t smacked over her head by thick branches, but leaves brushed against the top of her cowboy hat, which was firmly set atop her head, leaving her hair undisturbed.
Olivia took in the sights and sounds of the woods. By now, the baby animals born in spring would’ve grown. She didn’t see the wild animals, but she could hear them, every so often hearing the quick-paced running of what she assumed could be a deer. She could smell that there was something wild in these woods, something that made the woods not just smell different, but feel different than a garden or arboretum. It was a musky scent, a wild scent, a primal scent.
Matt galloped out of the woods, out onto a rock-studded sand beach that Olivia remembered from her teen years. They were on the less side part of the lake, the section only accessible by a windy narrow road, hiking or on horseback. She’d never been on this side of the lake before. On the other side, families played in the water, but the side they were on was untouched, not a cigarette butt or empty beer can to be seen on the beige sand beaches or in its depths and shallows. There weren’t even footprints by the shore, but Matt’s hooves left marks as he galloped through the shallow water on the edge of the lake. Each strong step down into the mirror-like puddles and pull of his leg up through their glassy surface disrupted the placid lake, causing the water to splash up and hit Olivia. The water whipped up into bubbles that reminded Olivia of seafood and she could swear she smelled the salt of the ocean for a few seconds.
Matt slowed down to a trot before stopping to let Olivia off. As Olivia stretched her legs, Matt looked at her and nodded before trotting off toward a truck. Olivia was surprised to see a truck parked out on this side of the lake with nobody around, but she realized it must be Matt’s truck. She turned away and watched the lake and waited for Matt to come back.
In a few minutes, Matt was back, looking much like he had at The Matchstick Grill. He was wearing a clean pair of jeans with a belt and a pair of cowboy boots. However, this time, he was wearing a white crewneck shirt on top of his muscles, the thin fabric not leaving much to Olivia’s imagination at all. She’d known Matt was muscular, but she hadn’t expected his tall body to be lean and toned. There didn’t seem to be an ounce of extra pudge on the man at all.
In one of Matt’s hands was a cooler. In the other, a Buffalo check-patterned quilted blanket.
“Hey there, stranger,” joked Matt. “Care to join me for some grub?”
“Uhm, yes,” said Olivia. “I got to ride on a sexy werehorse, and I also get to eat? You came up with the perfect date.”
Matt set the blanket out, and Olivia helped him put the food out. He’d bought some colas, some sandwiches, and a few sides at the grocery store, as well as some snacks.
“Did I pick a good spot?” asked Matt. “I didn’t know if you liked the outdoors.”
“Are you kidding? This is one of my favorite spots around here,” said Olivia, starting in on a sandwich. “At least, it was.”
“It was?” asked Matt.
“I’d come out to the lake with my best friend, Cayenne, on many an occasion to skip stones. We’d shoot the shit about our worries for life after high school. Kai, of course, had been worried about what college she’d get into, what major she’d end up choosing, while all I’d been worried about was my business,” explained Olivia, taking another bite of egg salad sandwich. “I haven’t come back to the lake since our adult lives started. Never found the time. Nearly forgot it was here.”
“You’ve known you wanted to be a seamstress for a long time, haven’t you?” asked Matt. “You have a passion for it. I understand that. I knew, ever since I ran with my herd for the first time, that I wanted to do something with my hands.” Matt turned his hands over, exposing his palms and the marks on his hands, the marks of his shift.
“Your herd?” asked Olivia.
“I forgot that you’re not a shifter chaser,” said Matt. “Do you know any shifters well?”
“My friend Cayenne’s husband Basil is a polar bear shifter,” said Olivia. “I’ve seen the mark on his chest a few times when we’ve all gone swimming in their pool.”
“Okay, that gives us something to start with,” said Matt. “Now, I’ll admit, there are exceptions to the rules I’m explaining. However, these rules are true in most cases. Bear shifters get a mark on their chest at eighteen, when they get their shift. That mark is called a mate mark. It tells them who they’re meant to be with forever. That’s what we call a ‘fated mate.’ Each mark is unique, except when it comes to ménages.”
“Okay, got it,” said Olivia. “And do you have a mate mark?”
“Horse shifters are different than bears and the other big, furry predators,” said Matt. “At eighteen, when we get our shift, we get a breed mark.”
“What’s a breed mark?” asked Olivia.
“You saw my shift for the first time today,” said Matt. “How would you describe it?”
“Your shift is a horse,” Olivia answered.
“It’s not just a horse,” said Matt. “Just as your friend’s husband isn�
�t just a bear, but a polar bear, I’m not just a ‘horse.’ I’m specifically an American Saddlebred. It’s a specific breed of horse. It’s not a subspecies or different species or whatever, but it’s a specific bloodline.”
“And your mark has to do with your breed?” asked Olivia.
“Exactly,” said Matt. “It’s not a unique mark, like a bear’s mate mark. That’s why it’s called a breed mark.”
“What does this all have to do with your herd?” asked Olivia.
“I’m getting there,” teased Matt. “My herd is a group of shifters that I associate with. They’re a second family.”
“I know that Cayenne’s husband is a Scoville, so he’s part of the Scoville Clan,” said Olivia. “Are you part of the Jackson Clan?”
“While a lot of shifter clans, especially for predators, are based on family, horse shifter herds are opt-in,” explained Matt. “Open membership for the most part. There’re exceptions: snootier herds that don’t let just anyone in, for example. Some care about having family in the herd. However, most horse herds are open to anyone who wants to join, but there’s a catch.”
“What’s the catch?” asked Olivia.
“You can only have one herd,” said Matt. “You have to pick your herd carefully.”
“What makes them different?” asked Olivia.
“A bunch of things, but here’re the important differences,” said Matt. “First, they all stand for different things, so their values should match yours. Secondly, the herds provide support for one another. You want to join a herd of people you can get along with. Third, they all have different herd marks and ways of marking their members.”
“Your herd marks you?” asks Olivia. “No way.”
“Yeah, you wanna see?” asked Matt.
“Yeah, if it’s okay with you,” said Olivia.
Matt took his shirt off and revealed rippling abs that Olivia swore must form an eight-pack. His pecs were indeed blank, but Matt turned and showed he had a mark on the base of his neck, on the part of his neck that was just below the line formed by the tops of his shoulders.
