FANDOM: The Big Valley
KINK: wet messy dirty
He was hot. And sweaty. Where the sweat hadn’t plastered his clothes to his body, the mud certainly had. He wasn’t sure that he could even identify the colour of his shirt anymore.
Groaning as he hauled himself onto the back of his patient horse, Jarrod briefly reconsidered his decision to stay at the ranch rather than take that offer to stump for Senator Briggs. But sometimes the lawyer grew tired of suits and hot meeting rooms. Sometimes he found himself yearning for the wide plains of the valley he grew up in, for the lowing of the cattle and the demanding physical labour of ranch work and this had been one of those times.
That was, until today. The dark-haired man sighed as he scratched at the drying mud on his neck. Only cattle could be stupid enough to get mired in a mud hole and it was his misfortune to be riding by alone. He supposed he could have continued on to the house and got some of the hands to help, but it was only four cows.
Jarrod snorted. Only four cows, right. Only four dimwitted bovines that hadn’t the sense God gave a gnat to realize he was trying to help them and fought against him and his horse with every bit of their thousand pounds. He shifted uncomfortably on the bare back of his mount. He swore he’d checked the latigos on his saddle before he headed out that morning. But when that last big old cow tried to leap sideways, the leather gave and Jarrod found himself flying into the mud, saddle and all. To top it all off, the brainless animal then lurched out of the mud by herself and ran off with the rest of her compatriots without so much as a backward glance.
Jarrod chuckled to himself. I think I’ve been out in the sun too long. I must’ve been if I’m expecting gratitude from cows. He made a mental note to send someone out for the broken saddle and then his thought about being in the sun gave him an idea. He’d be a lot more comfortable riding the rest of the way home if he cleaned up and cooled off. Jarrod nudged Jingo towards a nearby waterhole and could already feel how good that swim was going to be. Plus, he prided himself on his appearance and was usually immaculately put together with just the right cut of his jacket and not a hair out of place. Being sweaty and muddy didn’t fit with being a successful lawyer whose debonair manner turned the heads of both men and women, but it was all in a day’s work around the ranch.
Pulling up to the trees that flanked the pond, Jarrod slid off and tethered his horse so the sorrel could reach the water and browse on the nearby grass. He quickly stripped off his mud-caked clothing and was about to leave it on the bank when he decided there was no way he was putting the filthy things back on after his swim. Jarrod took them into the water, vigorously rinsed the garments and laid them on the bank to dry before wading back in and diving below the surface. He came back up and shook his head, scattering droplets every which way before he slicked the wet hair off his face and took a few lazy strokes across the water.
He splashed and swam, revelling in the feel of the cool water across his bare skin, until the sun dipped lower and he knew he had to get going if he didn’t want to be late for supper. Jarrod hauled himself out of the pond and dried himself a bit with his shirt before he dragged his still-damp clothes back on and untied Jingo’s reins. Grabbing a handful of mane, he pulled himself onto his horse’s back and nudged Jingo towards home. Jarrod grinned as he wondered if he could fool his brothers into believing that he’d remained tidy and clean the whole day.