Deshavi slid off her mare to the ground and looked around Ted Rogerson's homestead site. She didn't see anyone moving around the cabin. She tied her mare off and did a little scouting. She found Ted dozing peacefully in the sun, a bottle of whiskey beside him. She backed away quietly, careful not to disturb her grandfather's friend. She heard a chink of stone against metal and located the direction it had come from quickly, as it sounded out again.
It would seem that Trent was doing the role of an archaeologist today. She made her way towards Ted's perpetual dig site. She saw Trent down in a narrow trench swinging away with mattock. Admiringly she watched as his muscles rippled across the wide plain of his back and shoulders with the swing of each stroke of the mattock.
He was already aware of her, that she knew. Being the top predator that he was he'd probably smelled her on the breeze. His strong masculinity was one of the things that bothered her the most about him. Usually she picked weaker prey, but this time she felt like the prey.
His eyes flickered up to her, as she sat down on the edge of the ditch he was in the process of digging out. It wasn't much past nine a.m. in the morning, but he was already drenched with sweat and filthy. She'd never been attracted to him before more so than she was right now strangely enough. That was another thing she feared about him. He seemed to have the ability to overwhelm her, when it was she that should be doing the overwhelming part.
"Having fun?" She asked, as she gazed skeptically upon his task at hand.
He leaned back against the dirt wall behind him; his hands supported on his mattock handle and admitted, "Yes, actually I am."
She nodded and gave a shrug as if to say, 'Whatever floats your boat.'
He stood there quietly and watched her and it began to grow awkward.
"I suppose you're wondering why I'm here?"
He didn't say anything, but his gaze said he was interested in her answer. She didn't know what to say, nothing sounded right.
"Did your grandfather put you up to this?" He asked.
She nodded, "You could say that I suppose."
He shook his head disgustedly. "I suppose you do everything he asks you to?"
Deshavi shook her head no, "Very little actually."
"Then why are you here?" Trent asked.
"Perhaps, because I want to be with you." Deshavi responded in an intimate fashion.
Trent's gaze was judging, as he weighed her sincerity of statement, "And why is that?"