Chase the Storm Read Online Free Page B

long strides carryinghimquicklyacross a smallfield to a crooked metalgate. Standing on the second railing, he leaned forward and put his fingers between his lips, emittinga loud whistle. Squinting, I saw nothing, but heard the distinct sound of thundering hooves. Afraid he would catch me watching himand myemployment would end abruptly, I put onthe gloves and lifted the next bale ofhay.
    By the time I was filling up the bucket in the last stall, I was covered with sweat and my newly stained shirt was sticking to me. Dirt and hay and sawdust covered my clammy legs, and I suddenly understood why people wore jeans around farms. Wiping my arm across my brow, I chanced a glimpse down the aisle to where Chase was measuring grain into buckets. He’d already brought the horses inside. One by one, he’d led them from the large pasture to their stalls, talking to them all in a sweeter voice than he’d used with me. I tried not to focus on the way his back looked as he bent over, the way his jeans fit him just right, or the wayhis ass—
“Done yet?”
     
My eyes shot to his face as he glared at me over his shoulder. “Last stallnow.”
     
He turned around and I closed my eyes, jumping back when the water overflowed onto mysneakers.
     
“Damnit!”I cursed to myself.
    Leaving the stall, I wound up the hose and then wandered down the aisle. The name ofeachhorse was carved inwoodenplates oneachdoor. I looked in each stall, trying to remember their color to match it with their names. WhenI paused infront ofthe first stall, Tantor, a brownand white horse, pinned his ears back and swished his long white tail. Moving on, I introduced myself to Lakota, a friendly bay, then McLeod, a small white horse, and Jet, an almost red horse with a blaze of white on his face. Across the aisle from them were Keno, a chestnut with four white legs, Sampson, a bayhorse witha longblack mane, and Calvin, a goldenhorse with flaxen mane and tail. In the last stall was Admiral, easily the biggest horse I’d ever seen. As black as night, he had a glossy coat and flowing mane and tail. His head was hanging over the door, his eyes half closed in a drowsy state, but when I went to pat his face, a hand snagged my wrist sharply.
    “Don’t touchhim. He bites,”Chase warned firmly.
“He looks friendly,”I challenged.
“Looks aren’t everything, kid.” He released me, and something softened in himfor a second, then the sternness returned. “You have food inthat thing?”He pointed to mybagstillsittingat the end ofthe aisle.
    “No.”
“C’mon, then. I’llmake us something. Tomorrow, youstart.” I thought I had alreadystarted.
    As we walked toward the house, I wondered where the rest of the animals were. I didn’t see any sign of chickens or pigs or cows, all necessary farm animals to a city boy. I followed him up the steps of the large wraparound porch. Awicker swing hung in the corner, and a few of the black shutters framing the paned windows were slightly crooked, but there was a warmth about the house. He opened the screen door and motioned me inside, lettingit slambehind us.
    The inside resembled the outside, slightly worn but well loved. Chase’s boots clicked onthe wood floors as he walked downthe hallway toward the back of the house. I followed him, glancing around and taking in as much as I could in the short length to the kitchen, which was large and open with a wooden island in the middle. He didn’t show me around at all, so I stood in the kitchen, craning to see down the hallway. There were a few doors in one direction and what appeared to be a living room inthe other.
    Seeming to forget I was even there, Chase worked quietly. Not sure what I was supposed to do, I didn’t dare offer to help. The way he was moving, I would have only been in the way. Curious about my new home, I ambled into the large living room, complete with fireplace and mantel, television in the corner, bookcases, and chairs with lamps next them to read by. Dimly