As we walked toward the far end of the main building, I pointed out the direction of the cliffs. “Be sure to visit the cliffs so you can tell your friends and family you’ve seen the real Cliffs of Insanity from The Princess Bride.”
“Never seen it,” Hudson responded.
I actually stopped in my tracks. “What? You’ve never seen The Princess Bride? How is that possible?”
“Don’t know… too busy I guess.”
“Doing what?” I asked, completely serious. But when I saw him shift uncomfortably, I quickly added with a grin, “I think that might actually be a crime in your country.”
Hudson smiled and then that damn blush was back on his too-perfect cheeks. I began walking to keep from reaching out to see if his skin actually felt as warm as it looked.
“Is that cotton?” Hudson asked a moment later, pointing to a distant field. I followed his gesture and bit back a laugh when I saw what he was pointing to.
“No. Those are sheep. It’s farther away than it looks. I helped train that man’s dog and it takes me fifteen minutes by car to get there,” I said.
“You trained his dog?”
“Sheep dog. I train them on the side. A bit of a hobby really,” I said with a shrug. “You may have seen my Mama in the guesthouse earlier. She’s my bitch.”
Hudson stopped walking and turned to me with a confused expression. “What?”
“Mama. She’s a good girl. Won mass loads of awards for trials. And she’s damned good at breeding too.”
“Please tell me we’re talking about two different things?” His face seemed to have gone a bit ashen. “The receptionist is your mother?”
“Who, Liv? No. Why would you think she’s my… oh… no! I only meant my bitch. My collie, Mama.”
Hudson rubbed his face with his hands before glancing at me with a sheepish grin. “Mama, the dog. Sorry, you can imagine some of that was lost in translation. I thought… never mind.”
“Do you like animals?” I inquired to get past the awkward moment.
He nodded and I noticed a soft look cross his face. “I’ve always loved to ride. My grandparents have a ranch and keep a horse for me. His name is Kojack.”
We’d passed the end of the main building and headed toward the edge of the sea. It wasn’t a normal part of the tour, but I didn’t want to interrupt him by suggesting we head for the brewery where there would be more people to interrupt our conversation. Especially since he was finally starting to look more relaxed. He hadn’t checked his pockets for the hand sanitizer in at least three minutes.
Hudson continued with a soft chuckle. “Actually, when I was younger, I had a pony named Charlie. He was so spoiled. I used to sneak him apples and carrots all the time. I still wonder how he didn’t get too fat to carry a rider.”
I imagined a young Hudson sneaking out to his grandparents’ barn to give treats to his little pony. Had the boy worn little cowboy boots and a straw hat? Had he played with bows and arrows and pretended he was part of the American Wild West? The image of him as a child standing on a fence rung watching his rancher grandfather made me smile.
“I’ve never ridden,” I admitted. “I’m definitely more of a dog person. Do you have a dog back home?”
Hudson looked down to where our shoes made crunching sounds on the tiny shell bits along the pathway. “No. I live in the city and work too many hours to have one. Plus, they wouldn’t like living in a high-rise apartment. But my grandfathers have three dogs on the ranch. An old coonhound and two little yippy mutts. I have to admit to playing favorite. That coonhound stole my heart when they found him.”
While he talked about home, about his love of animals and his family, Hudson’s face changed completely. Gone was the stuttering and stumbling over words. Gone was the nervous blushing. I could see where his heart lived, and it was unexpectedly sweet.
He looked over at me. “How did you get into dog training?”
“One of our neighbors did sheep trials with his dog, Sweep. I was about ten the first time my father took me to a trial. It was in Dingle. They’ve an aquarium there, so I guess he’d wanted to take me to see the sea animals. It happened to coincide with the neighbor’s trial, so we were able to do both. I don’t remember the penguins and otters, but the dogs? I was hooked from the first run. The way the dog and trainer seemed to read each other’s minds… it seemed special, that relationship. It wasn’t until I got my first pup a few years later that I discovered the absolute joy in creating that bond. His name was Jacko. I loved that dog. Unfortunately, he passed before he was ten years old.”