Instead I was hailed into my sister's bedroom. She was seated on the foot of her bed, hairbrush in hand, like a magic wand, waiting for me. Her shirt was dropped to the floor; she still wore her shorts. Her hair hung down limp and wet and ready for a brush. She'd taken the towel and done that girl trick of knotting it between her breasts. The towel wrapped under her arms, leaving her shoulders bare."Get on the bed behind me," she urged, "sit back on your heels or something." I did just that, and then she handed back the brush. But immediately she wasn't comfortable. She made me scoot back further as she came to rest sitting Indian style on the end of the bed, her hands draped into her lap.I noticed how we were facing her dresser, with its big tall mirror. When I caught up, I found Cecilia looking at me. "Hi-i-i!!" we both waved.And then I began to brush her beautiful hair, breathing in her showery scents. I started getting hard, but I kept that a secret."Lia, let me know if I get too. Each pair of shepherds had a satellite phone for emergencies but nothing beat seeing for herself. She would arrive at the first one late afternoon.Horses were still the best means of transportation in the rugged land. No issues with fuel and breakdowns. Slower and little protection from the elements but she was quite used to that. She could enjoy and take careful note of the land as she journeyed more slowly.There were two “hands” watching over each flock. They each had a military rifle to deter human or animal predators and were excellent shots. Some local game frequently added variety to the food their pack mules carried. That evening at the campfire Rika enjoyed the rabbit stew as she got an update of the last week and made notes. There was a small bottle of vodka for each flock team in the supplies on her pack animal.Her visits were anticipated for more than the vodka. The men took four-hour night shifts patrolling around the bedded-down flock. A gunshot would bring the other if.
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