Read Online Flash by Rachel Anne Ridge - Free Book Online

to snow. He’d never forgive himself if he missed it. Moments after closing the door behind him, he poked his nose back inside.
    “Come out here with me,” he called. I had seen enough with one glimpse   —it looked awfully cold and miserable out there.
    I shook my head and sank a little deeper into my afghan on the couch. No. I’m good. Thank you, though. Seriously, I felt quite comfortable inside where it was nice and warm. My fuzzy socks were delightful.
    “Please come. I want you to experience this!” he insisted, his blue eyes dancing.
    Sighing, I set my book facedown on the cushion, got up, and dutifully put on a heavy coat and shoes. Grayson and Meghan looked on in amusement. They were accustomed to their father’s weather obsession and had already set out seldom-used plastic saucers for hill sliding with him in the morning. I followed him out into the icy evening, and he put his arm around me as we stepped across the crunchy grass.
    “Rach, you’ve got to see this!” Tom said. He acts just like a kid during these climatic occurrences. I had to smile. Despite myself, I always get drawn into his excitement for the simple things.
    He whipped out his high-powered flashlight and aimed thebeam into the trees. They shimmered in the light, their glittery layers of ice flashing and sparkling. The baubles of ice that clung to the cedars sounded like a thousand beaded dresses swaying in the cold night breeze.
    He was right. It was worth coming outside. And to think it didn’t cost a penny.
    “Now,” Tom said, “behold!” In a grand gesture, he moved the beam out into the pasture, where the winter grasses stood frozen in their white couture. Each blade, each plant, each stick was a picture of magical perfection, as if coated with glimmering fairy dust against the black sky.
    “Ohhh,” I breathed. It looked simply amazing. We stood awestruck by the beauty and savored it in the darkness that surrounded us. Tom slowly directed the shaft of light across the small field and toward the barn. The light tipped the grass and shrubs as it moved along, igniting icy sparkles in its path.
    Suddenly a dark, shaggy lump appeared in the spotlight. Tom backed up and shone his flashlight across the gray mass again. What in tarnation?
    Flash! Huddled just outside the barn in the freezing rain, the donkey raised his heavy head and peered back at us questioningly. “Huh?” he seemed to say. He started toward us, and as he neared, we could see that he, too, was covered in thick ice. Only on Flash, the ice coat wasn’t nearly as glamorous as the one worn by the cedars. Crusty, frozen dirt balls stuck to his long winter hair, and a mass of muddy icicles hung from his mane. He was a cold, filthy mess.
    “Flash, what are you doing?” I scolded him. “Why on earth are you standing outside the barn when you should be inside where it’s nice and dry?” I’d checked on him earlier in the dayand made sure he knew he had plenty of hay in the open stall. I never imagined he’d choose to brave the elements instead.
    Flash pulled up close to the gate and gave me a pathetic look that said, “Please let me come into your cozy house to get warm.”
    Well, there wasn’t a chance in the world that that was going to happen, but before I could open my mouth to set him straight, Tom turned to me and said, “Why don’t you head back inside? I’m going to give the poor guy some oats.”
    “He’ll just think you’re rewarding him for his ignorance,” I called after him, but to no avail. My man was already off to have mercy on the frosty beast who couldn’t seem to figure out how to escape the sleet. I shook my head. Aww, Flash! You’re awfully cute, but where’s your common sense tonight?
    Tom gave a whistle, which had become his signature call, and Flash followed across the frozen pasture to the barn. Once inside the shelter of the stall, Tom gave him a handful of oats and then made a hasty trip to the house for some supplies: