Chase the Storm (16 page)

“I’mdefinitelya bottom,”I smirked.

I helped himset up the conveyor, and then we began to work. I put the hay on the belt, and it went up into the loft where Chase took it off and stacked it. It took almost two hours before we were finished. Mrs. Carson, the feminine version of her husband with her short stature, plaid dress, and white hair in a bun, brought out freshly squeezed lemonade. Sitting on the trailer, Chase drank it so fast, some spilled out his mouth and ran down his jaw and throat. I wondered how lemonade would taste mixed withhis sweat.

Finished, he tossed his glass down to me, and we continued to work. When the last bale was piled high, I helped Chase with the conveyor. Mr. Carson returned just as we were about to get into the truck.

“Are you going over to Madison for the auction next week?” Mr. Carsonasked Chase.

 

“Not sure yet, sir.”

 

“The auction looks to be pretty big, might find some good buys,” Mr. Carsonadded. “Bringthe boy. Show himhow it’s done right.” Chase cast me a glance. “Maybe I will.”

They shook hands again, and Mr. Carson handed Chase a folded check. Inside the truck, Chase put it in his pocket without even looking at it.

“Does he payextra to have the hayunloaded?”

He pulled out of the barn and headed down the driveway. “They’re old friends of the family. Mr. Carson has a bad hip. It’s just easier for me to do it,”he answered. I took that as a no.

“What’s inMadison?”

Keeping his eyes on the road, he explained. “An annual livestock and equipment auction. I used to go to find some good buys on horses and cattle. I haven’t beenina few years, though,”he said sadly.

“Did you want to go? I can take care of the horses,” I offered, thoughthe thought ofa few days without Chase alreadycaused anache in mychest.

“No,” he snapped. Surprised at his harsh tone, I immediately dropped the subject and turned back to the window.

W
E WERE
lying in bed that night, still breathless from making love. Slipping from me, he curved his body into mine, took his position, and placed his ear over my heart. I carded my fingers through his hair, untangling the damp pieces. The room was completely dark and still except for our breathingas it graduallyreturned to normal.

Suddenly, he lifted his head, setting his chin on me, biting his lip before speaking. “I was thinkingabout that auction.”

“Yeah?”I swallowed. “Myoffer stillstands.”
“I don’t want youto take care ofthe horses.”

My heart sank a little. I hadn’t lived on the farm long, but I was pretty confident in my ability to feed the horses and turn them out. “Okay.”

“I was thinking about—about maybe you going with me? I don’t want to go alone,”he said wistfully.

 

There was no stopping my grin. “I’d love to,” I said eagerly. “But who willtake care ofthe horses?”

 

“I’ve got a friend, a vet a few towns over. She’s got a son who’s done it for me inthe past. I think I canget himto do it.”

 

Moving my hand fromhis hair to his cheek, I palmed it. “Thanks for askingme.”

 

He gave me a slight smile and then returned his ear to my heart, where it remained allnight.

 

Chapter 8

 

“D
O YOU
have everything?” he asked for the third time as I placed my
duffle bag into the bed of his truck. We were only going to Madison for Fridayand Saturdaynights; I wouldn’t need much.

 

“Yes,” I huffed, as I stepped over the hitch connecting the horse trailer to the truck.

Johnny, the vet’s son, had been by the day before, and Chase had gone over takingcare ofthe horses. I admit to kickingthe dirt a little when he let Johnny touch Admiral so freely. After doing the morning chores extra early, Chase had packed a cooler while I made sure everything else was readyto go.

“How far is it?”I asked as we got inand buckled our seatbelts. “About five hours,” he answered as he started the ignition. “Better get comfortable.”

For the next hour, I watched the sun rise over the fields. Once Chase got the truck up to speed on the highway, he placed his armon the door, turned up the radio, and smiled. I loved how easy it seemed to be for himto smile lately, and I liked to think I had something to do with that. When I’d first moved in, his smiles had been few and far between and usuallyindicated humor felt at myexpense.

I returned his smile when I saw his fingers tapping to the beat on the steering wheel, but it was the way his hair blew under his hat from the open window that made my insides flip. Putting my feet up on his dashboard, I ignored his raised brow and opened mybook.

“Whyare youalways readingthat?”he asked.
“I’mnot always readingit,”I denied.
That wasn’t exactly the truth. More than once, Chase had caught me

sprawled on my stomach across his bed waiting for him, the well-worn book in my hands as I scanned the pages I knew almost word for word. As soon as I would hear him enter, I closed the book and put it on the nightstand, where it would sit untilthe next time.

Chase raised his brow, and I shrugged. “I like it. I can kind of relate to Holden. He’s lost but doesn’t know it. He was disappointed with the waypeople always acted fake.”

“Do youthink people act fake?”

“Some. My parents do, my grandparents too. The professors and kids at college,” I listed them as they occurred to me. I closed my book and looked at him. “Not you, though. You’re not fake. You are who you sayyouare. Youdon’t pretend to be somethingyou’re not.”

“I don’t see any sense in doing that. This is who I am,” he reasoned. “Does the book have a happyending?”

“Not exactly. It’s sad, but a bit hopeful,” I answered. “He’s been expelled from a private school and after a weekend in the city bouncing around from girl to girl and meeting different people, he gets his sister to meet him, and after they argue, they end up in Central Park. She’s riding the carousel while he watches. He finally realizes happiness in that moment, and it ends with him not really changing his view of people, but decidingto go to a new schoolinthe fall. He just had to find his way.”

“Is that whyyoucame out here, to find your way?”

“I don’t know. I just know it wasn’t in Boston or New York. I’ll never belongineither place.”
Chase pulled into a diner in a tiny town around nine for breakfast. It was long and narrow with a counter and booths covered in white and black laminate. The woman behind the counter welcomed us and said to sit anywhere. Taking off my hat, I followed Chase. He picked the last boothonthe end and sat down, placinghis hat onthe seat next to himand stretching his legs out under the table, secretly thrilling me when our feet touched. He handed a menu to me and opened his own. A waitress appeared, pen and paper poised to take our orders. The attention she gave Chase didn’t go unnoticed by me, but he was completely oblivious to the way her hips swayed or the flashy smile she gave him. The man had no idea how gorgeous he was, even simply dressed in his plaid shirt and dark Levi’s. Chase ordered an omelet and home fries, I got pancakes, and we bothordered coffee. She wandered offand left us alone.
I folded myarms onthe table and leaned toward him. “So where are we staying?”
He tipped his head, making my heart race when he gave me a hint of his crooked smile. “Worried I’ve kidnapped you?”
“No. I’d go anywhere with you voluntarily,” I replied before I could stop myself.
The crooked smile grew slightly bigger before he glanced around to see if we’d been heard. “I booked a room at a bed and breakfast in town.”
“
A
room?”I grinned and he smirked.
“Yes,
a
room. We’ll be at the auction most of the day, but we can check out the rodeo and fair ifyouwant,”he suggested.
“I’d like that. What are youlookingfor at the auction?”
“Horses. Ones with potential I can buy cheap, work with, and then sell at a profit. Maybe a new tractor. I’mtired of fixing mine every damn week. Be nice to find a new baler too. Mine won’t last into next year.”
“Do theycost a lot?”
“About $2,500.”
“I had no idea farmingwas so expensive,”I confessed.
“Me either, untilI started doingit.”
I waited, hoping he’d continue on his own. There was so much I wanted to know, but was afraid to ask. When he didn’t offer any more, I accepted the silence and watched himuntilour food arrived. Chase ate his omelet and sipped his coffee, eyeing my pancakes and asking me how theywere. Pickingup some ofhis home fries, he placed themonmyplate.
“Pancakes won’t hold you over,” he said. My heart swelled at his gesture.
When our plates were cleared, I went to pull out my wallet to pay, but Chase handed the woman a twenty and told her to keep the change without even seeing the tab. I held out a ten, but he refused it, saying I would need it at the fair.
Back in the truck, I resumed my position of sitting almost sideways so I could watch him easily. Even if I was reading, my attention often drifted fromHolden’s adventures to the way Chase sat behind the wheel. Occasionally, without looking at me, he would smile. He knew my attention was on himand not the book in my lap. There was some talking, mostly me asking questions about the auction and how it worked. I’d never been to any auction before, much less one where they sold horses and cattle. Once I drained that topic, I moved on to the rodeo, another event I’d never seen in person. I honestly didn’t care what we talked about as long as his smooth voice and slight Midwestern drawl never stopped.
The miles passed, but scenery remained flat. Wheat fields morphed into rows of corn, which changed to oil riggings and pastures with cattle. Wind whipped through the cab of the pickup, mixing with the country tunes Chase hummed along with. I didn’t even mind when a silence fell because it gave me the chance to study him uninterrupted. I would never grow tired ofhis profile, or anythingelse about him.
I knew then I wouldn’t be leaving in September. If he would have me, I was going to stay with him forever. I had no need for a degree if I worked the farmwith him. Maybe he could teach me to ride well enough to train the horses with him, and maybe with my help, planting and harvesting the wheat would be easier. Leaning against the door, I let myself fantasize about a life with Chase: harsh winters and holidays, renewing springs and hot summers. Waking up to him every morning, working by his side all day, and then falling into bed with him each night was more than I could ever ask for out of life. He had told me people needed to find their way.
I had found mine, and it was withhim.
We finally arrived in Madison just before noon, passing the welcome sign with a picture ofa cowboy on a bull. The town was tiny compared to Boston but huge compared to Arthur. The main street was lined with old style brick buildings that looked like they were out of a classic western movie. It was the epitome ofsmalltownAmerica. Chase parked the truck in front of what appeared to be someone’s house but the sign on the front said it was aninn. It was two stories, withplanters offlowers below every large shutter-framed window, and had a porch complete with swing and cushioned chairs.
“I’m going to get us checked in, and then we can head over to the fairgrounds,”he announced.
I waited in the truck, smiling when I glanced at his ass as he walked up the front steps. As excited as I was to see the fair, I was more excited about being with Chase that night. He returned a few minutes later, getting in and pulling the truck and trailer back onto the street. Eager, I sat forward, constantly scanning our surroundings for the fair and drawing a chuckle fromChase.
He drove out of town, and just when I’d given up hope, the fairgrounds came into view. He continued past the signs to a parking lot specifically for trucks and trailers. After backing into a spot, he took off his hat and rana hand throughhis hair before puttingit back on.
“Ready?”
Undoingmyseatbelt, I slid across the seat and took offhis hat again. He frowned at me as I messed his hair, and then gave him a chaste kiss before placinghis hat onhis head.
“Now I am,”I said as I opened mydoor and hopped out.
We walked side by side with a respectable amount of room separating us to the entrance gate. The lines at the ticket booth were long, but moved quickly, and soon Chase was pulling out his wallet and purchasing two tickets for admission and reserved seating in the arena. We entered and were hit full force with everything a fair was: families walkingaround withchildreninawe, the scents ofsweet cottoncandyand spicysausage, cowboys inhats and chaps, and assorted merchant booths.
“This way,”he said, tuggingonmyhand.
I expected him to release it, but his hand remained around mine as he guided me through the crowds. I didn’t even care if anyone looked at us strangely, because Chase was holding my hand, his rough skin warm against mine. Ignoring allthe things around us, he led me to some covered bleachers, pulling me up the steps to the top. He sat down on the end, leaning against the railing behind us for support. I sat next to him and looked out over the large dirt arena in front of us. Surrounded by a tall wood fence, there were metal gates strategically placed on both ends, as well as holding pens and chutes for the rodeo. On each section of fence were red, white, and blue flags in honor of the holiday weekend. The summer sun had raised the temperature to the low nineties, but the cover over the reserved seats offered us some protection.
“Is this the auction?”
“Yeah, but for cattle. Not one I’m interested in, but I want to get a feelfor what kind ofqualityis here this year,”he replied.
I nodded as thoughI understood what he meant, but he knew better. For the next hour, he patiently explained what to look for in cattle. We watched the animals paraded into the ring while the auctioneer spoke really fast and people bid on them. True to my nature, I asked a lot of questions, and Chase answered them all. My heart would skip a beat whenever we were near eachother, or whenhe would put his hand onmy thigh and lean toward me to point at something. Overwhelmed by the sensation his hand left behind after it was gone, his words were lost on me.
Whenthe auctionwas over, we wandered into the fairgrounds again. Chase laughed when I pulled himtoward the vendor selling cotton candy, but opened his mouthwhenI offered himsome. I swallowed whenhis lips closed over my fingers to suck off the flavor. Chuckling, he put his hand on my back and steered me to another vendor selling leather goods. I followed himas he browsed, finallycomingto a sectionofcowboyboots.
“You can’t attend a rodeo in sneakers,” he chided lightly. “Pick out a pair.”
Grinning, I looked over my options, settling on a simple pair of dark brown leather with decorative stitching on the calf. I sat down and tried them on, looking up to see what Chase thought. His eyes were glued on mylower legs and feet. Fromhis expression, I gathered he liked them.
“CanI wear themnow?”
He nodded, and before I had boxed up my old sneakers, he’d already paid for my boots. The woman behind the counter handed me a bagto put the boxinand we left.
“Thank you,”I said. “I love them.”
“Me too.”He smiled.
The next few hours were spent walking through the different animal buildings, patting the pigs, cows, and sheep. We watched a few 4-H classes and then headed back to the main arena for the rodeo. As we sat down near the same spot we had earlier, I felt like I belonged in my hat and boots witha gorgeous cowboynext to me.
Before the rodeo began, Chase bought frenchfries and hot dogs. I’d never felt so cared for. Not even my parents had made sure my needs were met the way Chase did. He teased me when I ate too fast, and I laughed when I wiped the mustard from his cheek. The sun began to set and the lights around the arena came on as the announcer had everyone stand for the national anthem. I leaned into him when his fingers weaved with mine. We sat down, and I wasn’t disappointed when he pulled his hand from mine because he sat close enough for our thighs to press together.
The first event was barrel racing. Chase explained the rules to me as the first team entered the ring and raced a pattern around the barrels. I found myself cheering them on as they galloped toward the finish line. Next was calf roping, and I admired the accuracy of the riders, but cringed when the calves were brought down and tied. The most exciting event was bull riding. I sat in awe as cowboys attempted to stay on a ton of twisting muscle for eight seconds. Chase explained the technique and scoring to me, but allI could see was they either stayed on or they didn’t. The rides were neck-snapping and bone jarring, and even with the safety equipment theywore, it looked dangerous.
“I wanted to ride bulls when I was a teenager,” Chase revealed betweenriders.
“How come youdidn’t?”
“Myresponsibilities fellelsewhere,”he answered wistfully.
He watched the next rider, and I watched him, aching at the sad look his profile had taken on. I had assumed Chase had never thought of doing anything other than working on the farm, but then I remembered the rodeo trophies in the tack room. It had never occurred to me that maybe he had needed to find his path and never had. Maybe he’d wanted to explore the world, but never made it past the Arthur town lines. Looking back to the rodeo, I rested against hima little more. Rider after rider was bucked off, somehow getting up to walk out ofthe ring. As masculine and sexy as it was, I could never have watched Chase do it. I would have feared for his safetytoo much.