Read Online Adirondack Audacity by L.R. Smolarek - Free Book Online

a
dose of the Burt Burganey philosophy of life, stewardship
of the earth, not getting hung up on material goods,
working to make the world a better place. His moods
change like quick silver, one minute he’s serious, the next,
telling jokes and outlandish stories. For instance, he
claims one day he was standing so still in a field, a skunk
walked right over his feet. And he swears, scouts honor,
that he’s touched a deer grazing in a meadow by using the
slow stalking techniques of the Native Americans. He
seems so sincere, I believe him. A little crazy, eccentric,
moody, exasperating, messy and often late……I like him.
    As much as I enjoy Burt’s company,
an afternoon off
means…I can do what I want with no discussions to hurt
my head; eat regular lunches of peanut butter sandwiches
on white bread, chips, brownies, and a cold soda. Ahhhhhh, a little slice of heaven. And having an afternoon
off means I can pursue that good looking object of my
heart’s desire… Cowboy Scott. Scott Branson. His
family owns a ranch in Texas near the Erhart’s. A
professional rodeo rider, he broke his leg on a bucking
bronco last winter. He’s taking the summer off to run the
stable at camp and recuperate from his injuries. Being
older than me only serves to enhance his desirability.
    What a hunk
…..I’ve spent my afternoons off hanging
around the stables, in hopes he will become infatuated
with me, and we spend the summer holding hands
looking into each other’s eyes.
    It’s
amazing how far fantasy can be distorted from
reality. My scheme backfired…… big time. In the fantasy,
Scott adores me. In reality…I’m simply one of the
annoying gog-struck girls tagging behind him. The man’s
shadow consists of a stream of worshipping little girls. I
just happen to be the biggest one.
    Oh, he lets me muck out the stalls, saddle the horses,
tag along on a trail ride but his eyes gaze right over
me…like I’m dead space.
    So here I am on my day off, standing in a stall with a
pitchfork, up to my ankles in you know what, and not a
trace of Scott in sight. A clean stall with a bedding of
yellow wood shavings, warm and glowing, a soft breeze
blowing through an open window, air sweet with the
scent of horse, a clean stall is a pleasant place to be. But
with several layers of days old manure….it stinks.
Sunlight streams into the stall, as I breathe in the dusky
rich scent of horse, and my adolescent girl’s version of
infatuation deflates. I’m beginning to think my plan to
attract Scott stinks….literally. With my mind busy
formulating a new strategy; I heave a wheelbarrow full of
manure toward the door and who should appear? Terrific ……just what I need. Vic walks into the stall
carrying a full bucket of water.
    “Hey, you look like you could use a hand
there,
Cowgirl.” That annoying lock of long hair falls across his
forehead shading his eyes, but not before I see the smirk
and mischievous glint.
    “Thank
you, but you’re a little late.” I reply primly,
wiping the sweat from my brow on my shirt sleeve.
“What are you doing here?” Pretending not to know
Vic and Scott became friends based on their mutual
interest in horses. Vic’s family has a ranch somewhere in
Mexico; he worked as a ranchero since he was old enough
to ride a pony. “Shouldn’t you be throwing some
unsuspecting girl in the lake, hoping to get her fired?”
He sets the bucket down on the stable floor. “Nope,
I’ve sworn off throwing damsels into the lake, bad for my
social life.” He stops, a small smile plays across his face.
“It’s my afternoon off, so I stopped to check on a horse
with a lame leg. Scott and I think she needs a rest and
shouldn’t be ridden for a while.” He points at the
pitchfork. “And what are you doing mucking out stalls on
your afternoon off? Burt not working you hard enough?”
“I like horses.”
“From where I’m standing, looks more like you like
horse