Authors: V.m Waitt
Chase the Storm (5 page)
I had completed six of the ten saddles and was starting the seventh when my stomach growled loudly. Bending over, I scrubbed the back of the saddle, singing with the music I could hear from downstairs, a song about savinga horse and ridinga cowboy.
“I know a cowboyI’d like to ride,”I snickered cleverlyto myself. “Hungry?”
I jumped upright, almost falling over, and spun around to find Chase in the doorway withAdmiral’s saddle draped over one armand the bridle hanging on his shoulder. His hat sat low on his head, and he lifted his chin enough so I could see the amusement in his eyes. Instantly I was breathless, but I wasn’t sure if it was because of the crooked, knowing smile he was wearing, the way his shirt hugged his trimbody, or because he’d scared the shit out ofme.
Not answering, he remained still but his eyes dropped to my sneakered feet and slowly made their way up my dirty jeans to the top of my briefs poking out of the waistband, over my abs and chest, and finally landed on my eyes. I swallowed, feeling more exposed than if I’d been completelynaked infront ofa classroomofstudents. I’d knowntakingoff myshirt was a bad idea.
He stepped forward, his shoulder bumping mine as he headed for the other wall and placed the saddle on the empty rack. I watched him, tracking every movement he made as he hung up the bridle and then twisted his torso and stretched behind him to unzip the chaps. The suede fell open around his legs as his fingers quickly undid the tiny buckle on his hips. Taking the chaps off, he laid themon one of the trunks and took off his hat and placed it onthe chaps.
“Did youfixthe fence thing?”I asked, finallyfindingmyvoice. “The fence thing?”He snorted.
“Onthe southeast.”
He went to the corner and opened the door ofa smallfridge I hadn’t noticed was there. Pulling out two bottled waters, he handed one to me, lettinghis eyes lazilyroamover me.
“I did the grain and water and stacked the hay,” I said, eager to please. His brow rose, but he didn’t say anything, only nodded. Clumsily, I opened the water and brought it to my lips, easily drinking it all at one time.
An hour later, I was clearing my dishes from the island, washing them before piling them in the dish rack. Chase had already finished and gone to work on the tractor. He hadn’t said anything when I’d walked inside wearing my dirty T-shirt and a flush on my cheeks. Mike hadn’t been exaggerating about Chase’s solitary lifestyle. He only acknowledged myexistence whenI did something wrong or asked a stupid question, and those didn’t always get a reply.
Before he left, he’d given me a list of afternoon chores, including mowing the front lawn, watering the vegetable garden, and moving the bags ofgrainfromthe storage barnnext to the mainbarn.
Taking off my shirt again, I climbed onto the riding lawnmower. I’d never mowed before; there weren’t exactly a lot of lawns in New York City. The engine roared to life, but died the second I released the clutch. Sighing, I tried it again and smiled as it lurched forward. The sun beamed down on me the entire two hours it took to cut the grass, and I’d just finished when Mike pulled up with my footlocker in the back of his Chevy. He helped me carry it to the porch, and after a short conversation about how I was doing, he left. I returned the mower to the side of the garage and noticed a covered sports car parked inside next to Chase’s huge truck. I wondered what use he and Owenhad for a sports car.
When the garden was soaked with water, I walked to the storage barn, immediately finding the twenty bags of grain that needed to be moved.
By the time I was halfway through the pile of bags, my thighs, arms, and shoulder burned. I tried switching sides a few times, but it felt awkward. Each time I entered the barn, I walked past Chase bent over the front of the big green tractor. I knew nothing about tractors, I had no idea what he was doing or what tools he was using, but my eyes willingly glanced in his direction each time I walked by, enjoying the way his ass jutted out as he bent over.
With a huff, I placed the last bag on the stack. I was exhausted and it was only five in the afternoon. Taking my T-shirt frommy back pocket, I wiped myface withit before slippingit over myhead.
That asshole. He’d watched me carry twenty fifty-pound bags of grain, breathingheavilyand workingmyass off, whenI could have done it ina few trips.
“Little late,” I retorted. As I turned to walk off, I swore I heard him chuckling.
At the other end ofthe barn, out ofview, I fisted myhand and drove it into the side of the unforgiving wood. “FUCK!” I cursed through clenched teeth, nursingmysore hand and bleedingknuckles.
Maybe he was right, maybe I wouldn’t last more than two days, but it wouldn’t be because I couldn’t handle the work. It would be because he was an ass. When I realized I couldn’t punch the wallagain, I uselessly kicked the dirt with my foot and cursed. As pissed off as I was, I refused to give inand leave. No, I was determined to stayno matter how shittyhe treated me or how miserable I was. I wouldn’t fail. When I calmed, I heard himclear his throat behind me.
“When you’re done with your temper tantrum, you might want to washthat up,”he said, noddingto myhand clutched to mychest.
Then he closed the distance between us in two strong strides and pulled my fist toward him. His callused fingers pressed along the back of my hand and knuckles and I grimaced, but made no sound. His skin was warm and hard as he expertly examined the damage I’d done, his brows together, attentive to his task. When he looked up, turbulent blue meeting embarrassed pale green, he released myhand, and I let it fallto myside.
“Nothing’s broken. First aid kit is inthe tack room. Cleanit well,”he instructed before walkingoffas casuallyas he’d appeared.
Sighingand feelingfoolish, I walked into the barnand up the stairs to the tack room. I fumbled with it one-handed but got it open and used an antiseptic spray, then bandaged my hand with a few strips of gauze. From Chase’s whistle, I knew he was calling the horses and waited untilI heard the cloppingofhooves before goingdownstairs.
“Need anyhelp?”I asked whenhe led McLeod inside.
“Think youcanhandle it?”
“Yes, sir,”I conceded.
“Don’t touchAdmiral.”
Jogging down the aisle, I exited the barn and went over to the gate where all the horses were waiting to come in. How the hell was I supposed to openthe gate, catchone, pullhimthrough, and thenclose the gate before the others escaped? Panicked I would fuck it up, I waited until Chase returned. He shook his head when he saw me waiting and brushed me aside. I watched as he opened the gate with one hand while simultaneously clutching the halter of Jet and pulling him through the opening. Using his hip, he closed the gate and locked it with one hand. Thenhe handed Jet to me.
“Youtake himinside. I’llget the next one.”
Relieved, I took Jet’s halter, suddenly realizing just how big the horses were. They looked smaller in their stalls and not standing directly beside me.
“Youneed to walk,”Chase directed.
Taking a tentative step, I grew excited when Jet stepped with me and not on me. Feeling more confident, I headed toward the barn with Jet walking next to me. I led himto his stall, releasing his halter as he entered like I’d seen Chase do, and then closed the door behind him. He turned his large bodyaround and beganeatinghis grain.
Proudly, I turned and saw Chase leading Keno inside. “Don’t get cocky, kid.”
After deflating my ego, he showed off and smacked Keno’s hindquarters as he let him walk unassisted into his stall. I followed him outside and waited for himto hand me Sampson while he seized Admiral, who dwarfed Sampson. I led Sampson inside and to his stall, sliding the door closed behind him before following Chase back outside for the last three horses. Once they were inside, I waited while Chase checked to be sure eachstallwas locked, and thenhe turned offthe lights and closed the barn doors halfway. He headed toward the house and I followed closely onhis heels.
“Are we done for the day?”I asked, lookingat the loweringsun.
“Youare.”
We entered the house and he went to the kitchen. He took food fromthe refrigerator and vegetables froma basket onthe counter. “CanI help?”I offered, halfexpectinghimto tellme to fuck off. Surprisingly, he pointed to a cuttingboard. “Make a salad, please.”
Excited he was letting me help and allowing me to stay in the same room with him, I washed my hands and arms before going to his side. While he cooked, I chopped, stealingglances at himwhenever I could.
“How’s your hand?”
Blushing, I answered, “Fine.”
Dinner went about as well as it had the night before, almost silent and stillno signofOwen, or anyone else for that matter. Chase pushed his plate awayand sipped his beer.
Takinga chance, I spoke up. “Canyouteachme how to ride?”
He coughed, quickly covering his mouth with the back of his hand before draggingit across. “Excuse me?”he choked.
“I want to learnhow to ride.”
“Ride….”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “Something I’ve always wanted to learn since I was a kid, but there aren’t manyhorses inthe city.”
“Horses… right,”he murmured softly.
“So, willyouteachme?”
Sighing, he stood and brought his dishes to the sink, where he placed his hands and hung his head. When his shoulders hunched and his eyes closed, I worried I’d said something wrong and was trying his patience again. I was just about to get up and leave whenhe lifted his head.
“Ifwe get the work done bysix, I’llgive youlessons before dinner.” “Seriously?”
“Onlyifthe work is done,”he reminded me.
“Thanks,”I said, smiling.
“Whydon’t youwashup and go to bed. We’ve got a longdayinthe field tomorrow, about two hundred acres readyfor baling.”
Without doing the dishes, he walked out of the room and down the hall. I heard a door close at the end, and then it was still. I went upstairs and did as he suggested, taking a long, hot shower and scrubbing every inch of me. My back ached, my hands had more blisters than I could count, my entire upper body was sunburned, and my arms hurt so badly I couldn’t lift themto washmyhair, and it’d onlybeentwo days.
I’d never felt better.
After drying off, I returned to my room and put on a pair of underwear before laying back and covering myself with the thin blanket. Turning off the light, I let the sounds of nature outside my window lull me to sleep.
on the tractor he’d been working on the day before, Chase steered while looking behind him, his eyes trained on the hay baler he was pulling. I’d been up since four thirty, though it’d been even harder to drag my ass out of bed than the day before. After we’d fed the horses and put them out, he showed me how to drive the tractor and gave me a brief description on how baling hay worked. I listened carefully, but most of what he said went over myhead.
The acres had already been cut and the hay had dried in the summer heat. Chase attached the baler to the back ofthe large tractor and had me walk behind it. As the baler spit out a bale of hay, I had to make sure it dropped all the way to the ground and the twine was tight. Droplets of sweat ran down my face and chest, and, having taken off my shirt long ago, hay stuck to me everywhere. He announced the next day would be spent going through the same field, loading the bales onto the trailer and theninto the loft. It was a never endingprocess.
It was after eight at night bythe time we finished the horses and went inside. I was almost too tired to eat, but when he put a plate of steak and rice in front of me, I inhaled it. When he looked up, he found me grinning at himfromacross the island.
“What’s the grinfor?”he asked roughlyand withno grinofhis own. “I made it past two days,”I announced proudly.
“Now let’s see ifyoucanmake it a week,”he challenged lowly. “I will,”I said confidently.
There was no wayI wouldn’t.
The next two days were a blur ofhay, horses, sawdust, and manure. Chase gave me a longer to-do list every morning, and somehow I managed to finish it every night before collapsing onto my bed. Much to his entertainment, I’d even dozed off during dinner, waking up when he nudged me as he cleared the dishes. At least I hadn’t face-planted in the food.
first Sunday I was there, something strange happened. It was late
afternoon, and I was in the barn watering the horses when Chase walked in dressed in black jeans, a pressed white shirt with a western tie, and a black Stetson on his head. There was no scruff on his jaw, his blond hair was combed back, and he smelled like aftershave. Without a word, he pulled Admiralfromhis stall, groomed and tacked himup.
I watched until I couldn’t see him any longer. Then Keno hung his head over the door and shoved me withhis nose. “Yeah, yeah, time to get back to work.”
I’d made a sandwich for dinner, eaten it, done the dishes, and taken a shower before I finally heard the screen door open and close. A few minutes later, there were footsteps on the stairs, and I got off my bed. Ignoringme, he walked by, but I swear I saw dampness onhis cheeks.
