before lifting his hand and gently placing the hat onmyhead, pushingdownto make sure it was onsnug.
“I’m tired of watching you squint in the sun. Besides,” he said, his lips twitching as he held back a smile, “every good cowboy deserves a hat.”
“You think I’m a good cowboy?” I beamed, looking at him from under the brim.
His eyes dropped to my lips for a split second before he brushed by me, his shoulder purposelybumpingmine. “Get back to work.”
T
HE next day, I entered the barnjust as Chase was leavingit. “I’mgoing to meet a few guys in the north field today. The wheat is readyto come in,”he announced, givingno explanation.
I had no clue what was involved withharvestingwheat or how longit took. “CanI help too?”
“No. Combines are dangerous and you don’t have any experience. I have a few guys helping. Stay here at the barn and make sure you stack the haywe brought inyesterday.”
“Okay,”I said witha nod.
I kept busy with his instructions, finding other ways to occupy myself in his absence. I was curious how the harvesting worked, but I followed his orders and stayed near the barn. My stomach churned when I thought about him spending time with other men. Logically, I knew it was work, but flares of jealousy reared inside me throughout the day. When he returned at dinner, I was already eating. Other than his nose and mouth that had beenprotected bythe dirtybandana tied looselyaround his neck, he was covered in a fine, russet dust of ground winter wheat that drifted from him when he took off his hat. He ate in silence, only telling me he would be doingthe same thingthe next day.
T
HE Sunday after the wheat was harvested, Chase entered the barn promptly at four o’clock dressed in his white shirt and black pants. From the safety of the loft, I watched as he retrieved Admiral fromthe pasture, groomed himuntil his coat gleamed, and then tacked himup. The routine was one he’d obviously done hundreds of times, but it was still done with care and patience. I finished stacking the hay just as Chase slipped the reins over Admiral’s head.
“CanI go withyou?”I blurted before I could change mymind.
He never stopped, but his shoulders squared, and without looking up, he shook his head. Mounting Admiral, Chase gave me a cursory glance from under the brim of his hat before tugging on the reins and urging the horse into a jog. I didn’t see him again before I went to bed, and I spent the night regretting my question, for interfering with something that was clearlypersonalto him. I never asked himagain.
Chase continued to give me riding lessons a few times a week, and I eventually worked up to a jog and even a lope. Lakota and I began to have a secret affair. He agreed to not buck me off, and I snuck extra grain into his bucket. While Chase let me handle all the other horses, he never once let me near Admiral, eventhoughhe seemed perfectlymanageable.
The daily physical labor did wonders for my body: my biceps grew in size and strength, and I noticed definition in my forearms and abs. My chest began to fill out, looking less like a boy’s and more like a man’s. I began to work shirtless more often, telling myself it was because it was a waste to dirty a shirt when it was too hot for one anyway. The sun, not obscured by concrete buildings, kissed my skin daily and darkened it to a bronze color while givingmy brown hair highlights ofgold. I’d never spent so much time outside, and I began to understand the lure of clear skies and open pastures. Having no desire to talk to anyone but Chase, my cell phone and laptop remained inmybag, rarelyturned onor used. The same went for my truck. When Mike called and said it would be delayed a few weeks, I told him not to worry about it, my heart warming with the thought ofspendingmore time withChase.
More often than not, I would watch himfromafar. It didn’t matter if he was running a brush over Admiral’s sleek coat or sitting on the
“I’m tired of watching you squint in the sun. Besides,” he said, his lips twitching as he held back a smile, “every good cowboy deserves a hat.”
“You think I’m a good cowboy?” I beamed, looking at him from under the brim.
His eyes dropped to my lips for a split second before he brushed by me, his shoulder purposelybumpingmine. “Get back to work.”
T
HE next day, I entered the barnjust as Chase was leavingit. “I’mgoing to meet a few guys in the north field today. The wheat is readyto come in,”he announced, givingno explanation.
I had no clue what was involved withharvestingwheat or how longit took. “CanI help too?”
“No. Combines are dangerous and you don’t have any experience. I have a few guys helping. Stay here at the barn and make sure you stack the haywe brought inyesterday.”
“Okay,”I said witha nod.
I kept busy with his instructions, finding other ways to occupy myself in his absence. I was curious how the harvesting worked, but I followed his orders and stayed near the barn. My stomach churned when I thought about him spending time with other men. Logically, I knew it was work, but flares of jealousy reared inside me throughout the day. When he returned at dinner, I was already eating. Other than his nose and mouth that had beenprotected bythe dirtybandana tied looselyaround his neck, he was covered in a fine, russet dust of ground winter wheat that drifted from him when he took off his hat. He ate in silence, only telling me he would be doingthe same thingthe next day.
T
HE Sunday after the wheat was harvested, Chase entered the barn promptly at four o’clock dressed in his white shirt and black pants. From the safety of the loft, I watched as he retrieved Admiral fromthe pasture, groomed himuntil his coat gleamed, and then tacked himup. The routine was one he’d obviously done hundreds of times, but it was still done with care and patience. I finished stacking the hay just as Chase slipped the reins over Admiral’s head.
“CanI go withyou?”I blurted before I could change mymind.
He never stopped, but his shoulders squared, and without looking up, he shook his head. Mounting Admiral, Chase gave me a cursory glance from under the brim of his hat before tugging on the reins and urging the horse into a jog. I didn’t see him again before I went to bed, and I spent the night regretting my question, for interfering with something that was clearlypersonalto him. I never asked himagain.
Chase continued to give me riding lessons a few times a week, and I eventually worked up to a jog and even a lope. Lakota and I began to have a secret affair. He agreed to not buck me off, and I snuck extra grain into his bucket. While Chase let me handle all the other horses, he never once let me near Admiral, eventhoughhe seemed perfectlymanageable.
The daily physical labor did wonders for my body: my biceps grew in size and strength, and I noticed definition in my forearms and abs. My chest began to fill out, looking less like a boy’s and more like a man’s. I began to work shirtless more often, telling myself it was because it was a waste to dirty a shirt when it was too hot for one anyway. The sun, not obscured by concrete buildings, kissed my skin daily and darkened it to a bronze color while givingmy brown hair highlights ofgold. I’d never spent so much time outside, and I began to understand the lure of clear skies and open pastures. Having no desire to talk to anyone but Chase, my cell phone and laptop remained inmybag, rarelyturned onor used. The same went for my truck. When Mike called and said it would be delayed a few weeks, I told him not to worry about it, my heart warming with the thought ofspendingmore time withChase.
More often than not, I would watch himfromafar. It didn’t matter if he was running a brush over Admiral’s sleek coat or sitting on the
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