Coffee spewed out of her mouth. “You really identify with the animal, don’t you?”
In her opinion, Walking Buffalo took it much too far. She liked the big beasts, too, but she didn’t try to be one or feel as if she were one.
He slapped her on the back as she choked with one big hand. “I have reason to, Cait.”
“Which is?”
Her effort to prompt an answer from him failed. Walking Buffalo came to his feet and handed her the cup he’d used. “Thanks for the coffee and food. I’ll see you again, soon, woman. How long are you camping here?”
“All week,” she said. “All the way through next Sunday.”
“Good.”
Cait watched as he moved with slow, almost ponderous steps. He stood tall and broad, a large man by anyone’s standards, but he wasn’t heavy, not at all. Walking Buffalo had a presence about him and a dancer’s grace. He moved across the prairie, and she reached for her camera, wanting to capture the moment. When she glanced up, he’d vanished, but an impressive bull stood not far away. The animal lifted its head and appeared to gaze at her, its eyes so much like Walking Buffalo’s that it gave her an odd little frisson. Some of his strange comments niggled at her thoughts, but she dismissed them. Just because his name is Walking Buffalo doesn’t mean he is one.
The notion lingered, though, and gnawed at the edges of her consciousness with tiny yet sharp teeth.
Maybe he’d come back, maybe not. Cait never knew with men, but she wished Walking Buffalo would return.
****
A slow Monday passed. Cait hiked out into the tall grass prairie and shot photographs, so many she lost count. She captured hawks on the wing, a buffalo calf bawling for its mother, and a rabbit feeding. At sunset, the sky became glorious, rich purples vying against the orange backdrop punctuated by black clouds, light as feathers. By the time she returned to her campsite, weary but with a distinct sense of accomplishment, the shadows of dusk gathered into night.
Without warning, a sharp, cool breeze blew across the grasses, rippling them in its wake as she stirred up the embers of last night’s fire. Within minutes, Cait kindled a small flame and nurtured it into a decent blaze. She donned a heavier jacket and put a wool tam over her hair. By the time the fire crackled, Cait had banished most of the chill. Her long sojourn had made her hungry, and she dug out a can of soup she could heat over the fire. All day, she’d remained watchful, waiting and hoping Walking Buffalo might appear, but he hadn’t. She trudged much farther than she had planned in the hopes she might run across his place. Although she’d seen a few isolated homes, none boasted a few buffalo, so she doubted she’d located his home.
Her soup warmed until it bubbled, and about the time Cait poured it into a mug, headlights swept over the open country. The low growl of a truck’s motor cut into the peaceful quiet, and she frowned. A double cab pickup truck appeared and motored to a stop within her line of sight. Several men climbed down and began setting up camp less than a quarter mile away. They slammed doors, and their voices, loud and raucous, reached her, as clear and intrusive as if they were beside her.
“Shit.” Cait spoke the word aloud with distaste. She’d seen their type before, campers who wanted to play macho man in some remote place, but they always brought along their creature comforts, everything from beer to boom boxes. On cue, country music blasted into the night, and across the space between, Cait swore she heard the clink of bottles. So far, she didn’t think any of them had noticed her or her camp, but her luck had limits. She spooned soup into her mouth, barely tasting it, as she observed their antics. If it wouldn’t be so much trouble, she’d pack up and leave, but she didn’t want to break camp in the dark. And, if Walking Buffalo returned, she wanted to be here. Otherwise, he’d never find her.
Full dark turned the sky black as the men turned up the sound. They whooped and shouted, sang along to their twangy tunes, and when one of them stumbled away from the fire to piss, they noticed. “Hey, we got a neighbor,” she heard one of the men yell. “I think it’s a gal, too.”
“Let’s go get acquainted. I’d like some pussy tonight.” Another voice spoke with shrill excitement.
As an experienced traveler, a woman who made her own way, Cait could defend herself in most cases. She packed a pistol, a wicked Glock 17, and she had taken enough self-defense courses she could bring down a man. Hell, she probably could take two, but there were five men headed for her campsite. Her body tensed, and she wished Walking Buffalo would show up. He might intimidate them—she wouldn’t.
The smell of beer on the wind announced their imminent arrival. Cait put her pistol in her lap, ready, and waited. Ten feet from the circle of her fire, they hollered greetings, but she didn’t answer. Somewhere in the night, she heard the sound of hooves pounding the ground, and without any further warning a huge buffalo charged the men. They scattered like leaves to the wind, their shouts and cries shifting from predatory to afraid. The animal wheeled about and came back, so close she heard its rough snorts and smelled its gamey aroma.
“Shoot it, you dumb son-of-a-bitch!” One of the men shouted from where he’d fallen onto the ground. Another of their group fumbled until he revealed a shotgun, and as Cait watched with horror, he inserted a shell into the chamber, then cocked it. Anger blazed through her concern. He’s going to shoot it, she thought and decided she wouldn’t let it happen.
“No!” Her voice emerged as a scream, and the men turned toward her, mouths open as the massive beast ran into the center of the men. The bull hit the man who held the gun square on, and he toppled. The gun discharged into the grass, and from the answering wail, Cait figured one of the idiots had been hit. As she watched, the buffalo charged a second time, scattering the hunting party. The men darted back toward their campsite. In record time, they broke camp and tossed everything into the truck. Before Cait had calmed down, their pickup bumped across the grass back toward civilization.
The buffalo loped toward her camp, and she stood still. An enraged animal could be dangerous, so she waited with wariness, but it slowed to a stop in some of the deepest shadows.
In the flickering illumination of the fire, Cait saw it in perfect clarity. It stared at her with those deep brown eyes, and then something changed. Its form grew and transformed. Unable to believe what she saw, she watched as the powerful creature with four hooves, a tail, and fur stood on two legs. Hair retracted as the figure adjusted from an animal into a man, one she recognized.
In less than two minutes, the buffalo became a man. Walking Buffalo, naked and even more beautiful than she remembered stood on the other side of her fire. Cait’s mouth drooped wide as she stared. She raised both fists to her eyes and rubbed them as if she could wipe away the unbelievable transformation she’d watched. Her body trembled as she realized she’d watched him shift from beast to man.
“Woman, don’t be afraid,” he said in the voice she remembered so well. “I’m here to protect you. You’re mine and mine alone.”
Cait parted her lips, but no words came. Her mouth ached, so dry, and she swallowed as Walking Buffalo came to her side. She faced him. “What are you? Are you a man or a buffalo?”
He grinned, unfazed by her discomfort. “I’m both, Cait. I’m a shifter.”
Her mind failed to compute. “A what?”
“I’m a shape-shifter,” he said with complete poise. “I can take either form, a human or a buffalo. Haven’t you read about shifters?”
She had, but she’d never believed. “I thought they were mostly wolves,” she said, after a pause. “Or sometimes tigers or bears.” Cait recalled a children’s tale her grandmother once told about a man who was a bear by day, a man by night.
Walking Buffalo laughed. “Shape-shifters can take almost any form, woman.”
He lifted one hand and stroked her cheek. His fingers were warm against her cold face, and despite her shock, his touch kindled desire deep within Cait. “How did you become one?”
His eyes met hers, so
deep and dark she thought she could drown in their depths. “I chose it. I’m a shaman, Cait, from long ago. My people roamed these plains, once, and followed the buffalo. They provided everything for us, our food, our clothing, our shelter. I called them when the time came for a hunt, and they came. But so did the white people, and everything changed. The time of our people ended, but I didn’t want to live like them. I’m no farmer, and it took me a very long time to adjust to sleeping within four wooden walls and beneath a roof. I didn’t want to surrender or live on a reservation, so I chose my form.”
So much to take in, so hard to understand, but Cait tried to grasp his meaning and failed. “Is it magic?”
“I prefer to call it power,” he said. “There’s power in all things, in the wind, in the sky, in the storms, and in the animals.”
Cait understood. She’d seen it many times. “Why did you come to me?”
“I want you.”
The words evoked a rush of passion and urgent need. If he asked or touched her again, she’d lie down and spread her legs for him, no questions asked. “I want you, too,” she whimpered.
Walking Buffalo grinned. “We’ll have each other, but I want more than sex, woman. I want a mate, a woman who will love me as I am and remain with me forever.”
Love? Cait had no idea, but he filled her senses. His presence mesmerized her, and she longed to touch and taste him again. idea of forever frightened her. “Are you immortal?”
“I am, and you can be, too. I have the power to make it so if you become my mate.”
“Do buffalo mate for life?” Maybe it was a silly question, but she asked, anyway.
“No, but I do. I’ve waited a long time for the right woman.”
So far, she liked his answer. But she needed more information. “So will I become a shifter, too? How does the whole immortal thing work?”
Walking Buffalo laughed. “Yes, you’ll gain the ability to shift at will. It’s just tapping into nature, using the old ways, and I’ll teach you. There’s nothing hard about it. Just believe and be. The power flows from me, but as my mate, it becomes yours, too. It’ll be your call how often and when you shift. And, as a shifter, like me, you’ll gain immortality. It goes with the territory, woman. Like I said, I’ve waited for a mate, and I’ve found her.”
Flattered, she still had to know the reason. “Why me?”
“You’re independent and very beautiful. Your spirit soars free as a hawk, and you have a sense deep inside for the old ways, whether you know it or not. Will you?”
Impossible to commit now, but Cait sighed. “Love me, Walking Buffalo, love me.”
His tongue knifed into her mouth in a swift kiss, powerful enough to rob her breath and turn her head. She clung to him, hands against his broad shoulders and kissed him back. Between them, heat built like a summer thunderstorm, volatile and ready to explode. Cait raked her hands through his ragged, flowing hair. It brushed against her touch, fine and softer than the best cashmere. Walking Buffalo devoured her mouth, claimed it and kissed her until her lips ached, bruised. His mouth strayed from hers and trailed lower. He nibbled the base of her throat and used his large tongue to lick a line toward her breasts, but her jacket blocked its path. With savage speed, he peeled away her jacket, then her shirt. Beneath it, she wore no camisole or bra.
Walking Buffalo took one nipple at a time into his mouth, suckled and nibbled. He wasn’t gentle, but she gloried in it. He used his teeth to mark her with a series of love bites on both breasts, and then gentle as spring rain showers, his tongue trailed down the middle of her flat belly. Without stopping, he undid her jeans and jerked them down with force. The pants pooled around her ankles, and she stepped out of them, then kicked them aside with her left foot.
He knelt before her and kissed the inside of her thighs. His warm breath against her cool flesh evoked goose bumps and notched her growing desire higher. Cait whimpered with want, and he maneuvered her toward the ground. On her back, she spread her legs for him, and he lowered his head between them with a satisfied grunt.
As his hair tickled her thighs, he thrust his tongue into her waiting pussy and drove it deep. The sensation sent chills and thrills running through her body, strong enough that she arched her back in response. “Ohhhh,” she moaned as she writhed in ecstasy. He tasted the center of her womanhood and used his tongue to lick her bud until she came in a blinding rush of ultimate pleasure. Her delight increased until she doubted she could take anymore. Tension increased as she begged him to take her. “Please, oh, please, Walking Buffalo.”
Just when Cait knew she’d die from want, he removed his tongue and replaced it with his cock. He rode her, hips rocking, going deeper with each movement and thrust. The walls of her cunt tightened around him, and she squeezed. Cait wrapped tight to him, arms barely able to circle his bulk, and he came with a wild, incredible rush. Walking Buffalo carried her with him, both of them shouting wordless noise from the intense delight.
Gasping, body heaving, Cait reclined and let the aftershocks roll over her, each one bringing another quiver of wonderful pleasure. Walking Buffalo collapsed besides her wearing a huge grin. He didn’t seem winded at all, just content as a cat on a sunny windowsill. So was she, her body as boneless as if her skeleton melted in the heat they’d shared. If necessary, she doubted she could manage to sit up, let alone stand. Her twat ached, and she figured it might be sore but it’d been worth it.
“Will you?” he asked after she had time to catch her breath.
Without hesitation, Cait nodded. “Yes, I’ll be your mate.” She’d agree to almost anything to ensure such mind-blowing sex, not for life but forever.
“Then let’s go home,” he said and leapt to his feet with a single graceful gesture.
Cait liked the idea. “What about all my stuff? The tent, my car, and all of it?”
“We’ll get it tomorrow.”
She peered into the darkness. “How far is it?” Cait wasn’t sure she could walk very far, and he hadn’t come in a vehicle.
“It doesn’t matter,” Walking Buffalo said. “You’ll ride me.”
Maybe she’d misheard. “Ride you?”
His huge head bobbed in a nod. “I’ll shift, and you’ll ride me. I’ll run across the prairie, and we’ll be home in no time. Then we’ll do it again.”
Her nipples hardened at the thought, and her pussy tightened. Every inch of her skin ached for it. But ride him? It sounded both fun and scary at the same time. “I don’t know,” Cait said.
Walking Buffalo laughed. “Are you afraid?”
“A little.”
“Don’t be. Do as I ask, woman.”
Aware she’d just agreed to mate a buffalo shifter, Cait changed her mind. Okay, sure, she’d ride him. If she fell off or got trampled, it would be with the memory of the sweetest sex ever. Besides, she wanted a better view when he shifted. “All right,” she said. “Let’s go, and I’ll ride.”
As she gathered up her discarded clothing, Walking Buffalo stepped out of the circle of the fire and her campsite. The flames illuminated him well, however, and shadows danced across his bulk. He stood straight and tall, and then he began to change. Although broad, his body appeared to widen and grow in girth. His hair increased, flowing longer and covering him. Cait watched his face as his features coarsened. His lips became much fuller, and his nose turned into a snout. His eyes remained the same, dark, wise, and beautiful.
His transformation didn’t take long, less than five minutes. He changed from the sexiest Native American man she’d ever seen into a buffalo, a creature of great beauty and size. In animal form, he didn’t appear able to speak, but his eyes gazed at her. Cait swore he managed to wink, and then he lowered himself onto the ground. She walked over and climbed on, wiggling until she found a solid, comfortable seat on his back. Her fingers twined into his thick, long fur, and she sighed. “Okay, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be!”
He stood up, easy and slow. After a few tentative steps, he picked up hi
s pace, and once he reached the wide open grassland, she hunkered down, certain he was on the verge of running.
The powerful muscles beneath her bottom bunched, and then he set out, running with amazing speed. His hooves pounded the ground with force, and Cait tightened her grip so she wouldn’t fall from his back.
Although rough, the ride proved exhilarating. Cait loved it. After the first tense minutes, most of her fear evaporated in her wonder, and she sat up, hands cinched tight in his hair. Wind blew against her face and ruffled through her hair. A tremendous sense of freedom rushed over her, and she laughed aloud with the wonder of it. The thrill ranked second behind sex.
Impossible to believe, but she’d found love in a most unlikely place and fashion. Walking Buffalo shared her passion for the plains and her appreciation for solitude. In him, she’d discovered man and mate, a like-minded creature, and Cait decided they belonged together. As they headed toward his home, a place she would soon share, eager anticipation for the future bubbled within her, as light and intoxicating as champagne.
The future belonged to them, to Cait and Walking Buffalo, and his will had become hers. She didn’t mind a bit.
The End
www.leeannsontheimermurphywriterauthor.blogspot.com
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