Samuel strode into the hall in his riding boots, covered in mud and smelling like a horse. He swung opened the study door to see his secretary sitting at the bureau. "Where's my wife, Anderson?"

Anderson looked up at his master, a small smile crossed his features as he said, "I think she's down at the pig sty, My Lord." He paused and added, "At least that's what has filtered to me from the staff."

"Not again!" Samuel exclaimed. He was about to close the door when he heard a chuckle. Peering around the mahogany panel he caught Omar trying to stifle another laugh. "So, you think that's funny, Omar?"

The man shrugged, his eyes lighting up in humour. "That girl suits you well, Sammy. You both love playing in mud."

Samuel's face relaxed and flushed with admiration. "She suits me very well, indeed," he said. "Now I'm off to find her." As he turned, he caught Anderson trying to hide a grin behind the ledger he was working on. "Don't you two have anything better to do than laughing behind my back?"

"Well, we do, sir, but I'm sick of being beaten at chess by Omar, so..."

"Bloody hell," Samuel scoffed. "I need to get myself some better staff." He grinned. "You know the more respectful and productive sort," he said as he pointed at each man before he left the room to the sound of laughter.

*

He found Shay dressed in gumboots and an old pair of his riding pants, held up by a piece of rope tied around her waist. She had two piglets, one under each arm, making her way precariously through a flooded pig sty.

"What the?" Samuel gripped his head with both his hands as he looked at the disaster.

The stable boy and two farm hands were trying to stop a stream of flowing water that was pouring into the sty.

"Pipes burst, Me Lord," one man yelled.

"My fault," Shay said as she handed the two piglets to Joe, the young stable hand saying, "That's the last of them."

Sam stood in shock staring down at her. "Your fault? The last of them? Please explain, woman."

"Well." Shay lifted a muddy hand and pointed across the mess to the water pump. "I want the sty fence moved out so the pump is inside. Easier to fill the water trough, you see, and there isn't enough room for the pigs to wallow. While Mister Adams was digging the hole for the new fence post he hit the pipe that runs from the well to the pump." She looked up at her husband and smiled. "The sty flooded and, Missus Picks Number Three's babies were getting stuck in the mud." She gave him a worrying look as she added, "They would have drowned, Samuel."

He gapped at her. "Missus Picks Number Three?" Cocking his head in question he said, "We have a sow called Missus Picks Number Three?"

"Oh, yes," said Shay in all seriousness. "Number one passed away when I was seventeen." She shrugged. "Natural causes. Number two is alive and well at Lytton House so, I've named this beauty," she pointed at the big fat sow wallowing in the mud, "Missus Picks Number Three."

Samuel shook his head. "You aren't serious, Shay. That sow is ready for the chopping block."

"No!" Shay gripped his forearm. "You can't kill her."

Laughing, Sam shook his head some more and said, "Well, I can't bloody kill the thing now, can I? You've given it a bloody name."

"Language, Samuel." Shay gave him a stern look, and then grinned.

"You drive me insane," he said as he lifted her and threw her over his shoulder.

"What are you doing?" Shay pushed on his back so she could raise her torso.

He headed into the stables and towards the tack room as he said, "What I always want to do with you."

"Samuel?" Shay gushed. "Not in here. Someone might see."

"Not in the tack room, they won't. I'll lock the door." He put her on her feet and dropped the timber slide into place to secure the door.

"The tack room." Shay grinned. "My, how romantic, Me Lord."

Grinning mischievously back at her, Sam lifted his shirt over his head and said, "I hope you're going to be my humble servant, duchess."

"Samuel! You're not serious! Here! In the tack room?"

"Why not?" He cupped her face, and then moved one of his hands to her neck and rubbed the soft spot behind her ear, while the other released the bow on her shirt to expose her breasts. As he bent to kiss her, he whispered, "I remember your love of tack rooms, Shay."

"Samuel..." Shay murmured as she closed her eyes and let the sensations of his kiss and touch melt her heart.

As his lips caught hers, Samuel ran his hand down her body and untied the knot in the rope holding up her pants. They slid from her legs like a flag down a pole. "I like you wearing my trousers," he whispered as he touched her core and began a rhythm with his fingers. "So much easier to get to you, than all those petticoats."

Shay gasped. She could find no words to answer him as he worked his magic.

Taking her earlobe into his mouth, Samuel murmured, "You are so beautiful."

"Oh, Samuel..." Becoming liquid in his arms, Shay unbuttoned his trousers and pushed them down over his muscled backside. When they slid to the ground, she gripped his length with her fingers and drew him towards her. "I never thought being with a man could feel this good." She ran her hands up his body,  wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled her body close to his.

Sam read the signs clearly. He lifted Shay, moved to the tack room door and pressed her back to the timber. As she wrapped her legs around him, Samuel entered the place he knew was home. "Shay..." he gasped as he moved slowly backwards and forwards. "I will always love you."

THE END

To see how Shay and Samuel are getting along an Epilogue follows this chapter.

Photo taken from Equine Wellness Magazine

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