Home > Uncategorized, writing > A Fascinating Woman

A Fascinating Woman

She’s fascinating because she’s unique. That’s what Truman Garrison was thinking while he held Angel’s halter. The blacksmith was trimming Angel’s hooves in preparation for the coming summer season. Truman didn’t know what to expect when Doctor Lefebvre referred him to another veterinarian. Lefebvre was getting on in years and taking a step toward retirement by giving up his large animal practice to deal only with smaller animals, household pets and the like. The previous day she had been the veterinarian treating the horses. This morning she returned as a blacksmith and Truman Garrison was intrigued by her.

The vet to whom Garrison was referred bore the unusual name of Damia Zaa. Garrison trusted old Doc Lefebvre’s judgment and made an appointment with the new vet to come out to the Small ‘t’ Ranch to give his horses their shots and a check-up. It hadn’t occurred to Truman that the new vet might be a woman. The name Damia sounded male to him so he was surprised to see a woman step out of the green pickup truck. It was a solidly built mobile Veterinarian’s office, fitted with heavy, steel compartments all around the eight foot by six foot box in back. Truman, who was about fifty-five at the time, guessed the new vet was about thirty-five.

Truman Garrison paid close attention to the new vet’s technique as she focused on one horse after the other. Damia Zaa made the animals feel safe and calm by her easy, graceful demeanor. Truman took the animals’ behaviour as a sign that this lady vet was a confident professional. He began to look at her as a person. She was remarkably tall, perhaps six-feet-two-or-three. Her long legs showed excellent shape in the tight-fitting jeans. The cuffs were rolled up in narrow folds to the tops of her well-worn Kodiak boots that were laced only half way up so they splayed open at the top three eyelets.

Garrison was close to her as she plunged the long needle into each horse’s neck for its annual inoculation. The fragrance of her hair reached him with its subtle lilac scent as her straight blond tresses fell heavily about her shoulders and swayed with her movements. As Damia forced open each horse’s mouth to check its teeth, Truman was studying her profile. Her face was tanned in that way that outdoor workers get tanned as opposed to the tans acquired on a chaise around a pool. Her nose was fine and appeared straight from the front view of her face, but in profile it had a finely cut angle from the bridge down to the tip. It was unusual, and Truman found it very attractive.

He stood almost touching her as he held the horse steady by the halter while she checked the animal’s teeth. Truman was thinking about her fragrance. He was startled when she suddenly turned her face to him. He was almost as tall as she was and they were suddenly nose to nose.

“Y’know, Mister Garrison,” she said softly, with a warm, husky voice, “each of your horses need their teeth floated and their hooves trimmed.”

“I’ll call the blacksmith as soon as you’re done,” he said.

“If you’ve no objection,” she said, “I’ll do it while I’m here.”

“You’re a blacksmith and a veterinary?” he said.

“I’ll just trim their hooves right now,” she said. “I’ll come back tomorrow with my blacksmith trailer and make some proper shoes for them.”

Truman Garrison was new to country living alone, but very worldly in other environments. His success as a writer of novels and screenplays made for a very broad and intense education. All the same, Truman Garrison was almost confused by the woman and her uniqueness, physically and beyond. She declined his offer of coffee when she finished her work. Damia Zaa stated quite firmly that she’d return the next morning to shoe the horses.

“Keep them in the stable tonight so they’ll be ready for me as soon as I set up. We don’t want to waste the morning rounding them up from the forest that you have there beyond the pasture,” said Damia.

Truman just nodded hesitantly. He was looking at a stunning amazon twenty years his junior and it bothered him. He planned  to live like a hermit on this property so he could get on with his novel and he feared that Ms Zaa would cloud his vision.

Categories: Uncategorized, writing Tags: , ,
  1. No comments yet.
  1. No trackbacks yet.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: