“His name is Jim,” I repeated in my head. I didn’t say anything out loud. For some reason it appeared that my lips were glued together and I was unable to speak.
He leaned back on one hip and stuck the tips of his hands in his pockets. “You gonna tell me your name or are we not speaking today?” he asked. There was a twinkle in his eye when he spoke and you could tell he thought the fact I wasn’t talking was kind of funny.
As usual I blushed beat red. I always hated it when I blushed. I was a redhead and blushing made my skin clash with my hair and my clothes. “My names Carla” I finally managed to choke out.
“Well hi Carla,” he said. “What ya doin here?
“This is my horse,” I answered, hugging Lil Miss to me closer. Holding her close made me feel more secure and her body was partially shielding mine from full view which was just fine by me. I didn’t want him taking the same kind of “up/down” look I had taken of him. I was positive he wouldn’t find the experience nearly as enjoyable as I had.
“They sold her to you?” he asked with surprise. “I didn’t know she was up for sale.”
“They didn’t and she’ not,” I told him. “We are leasing her because we live in the suburbs and we don’t have the room for a horse.” I would have died before I admitted to him that we could not afford a horse even if we had sixteen acres, never mind just the one required to have a horse.
“Oh,” said a relieved Jim. “That makes more sense. So what are you leasing her for?” he asked.
“Saddle club,” I replied. “It’s a 4-h club for horses.”
“I know what it is. I belong to 4-h too,” he responded.
“What club do you belong to?” I asked.
“I show beef” he proudly stated.
“What’s that?” I asked. Somehow in my mind’s eye I had a vision of a beef sirloin wrapped in plastic and was struggling to understand how in the hell you could be in a 4-h activity with saran wrapped meat.
“Cows Carla…COWS” he laughed. “I show cows.”
Again came the wicked blush I so hated. I think he could sense that I was embarrassed and changed the subject.
“Wanna help me feed the horses?” he asked. “Bob and Jeanie asked if I would feed today. They had some errands to run and weren’t sure they would be back in time.”
“I don’t know how,” I answered.
“It’s ok..I’ll show you how,” he said.
Nodding my head ok, I picked up the brush I had been using to groom Lil Miss and left her stall making sure to latch the door behind me. Going to the tack room, I put the grooming tools away and went back down the aisle to the stall where Jim had remained waiting for me.
“Come on,” he said. “Feed rooms this way,” and he turned and walked away. That was fine by me because it gave me a glorious view of his butt. I was right when I had guessed it was a nice one. To cover it with denim was just a crime plain and simple. I couldn’t have picked a better person to walk behind if I had been asked. I was enjoying the view so much I almost bumped into him when he stopped at the feed room door. I managed to stop just in time and was very thankful that he didn’t appear to notice that my eyes had been focused on his ass for the better part of two minutes.
“See this bin here? “ he asked pointing to a wooden bin against the wall and latched firmly down. I nodded my head yes. “This is where the grain is. Each horse gets one scoop and only one scoop. If you feed them more than that they can get sick and that is one thing we don’t want to happen.” He explained.
“What happens when they eat too much grain?” I innocently asked.
“Sometimes their guts twist and the vet has to be called. Then they have to stick a rubber tube up their nose and down into their stomach and pour mineral oil in ‘em to make sure the grain passes through.” He described.
“Sounds wonderful,” I said swallowing a bit harder than normal. Again that wonderful white smile flashed and I got the sneaking suspicion that he had said that on purpose to gross me out. I silently resolved to make sure I did not let him SEE that he had yanked my puke chain again, even if he did.
Picking up a scoop and tossing it to me, he bent over and got another for himself. I seemed to have grown addicted to the site of his ass because my eyes went directly to it when he bent over. I hadn’t really spent a lot of time around guys my own age that talked to me. My sisters and my acne did a good job of keeping me away from them, or them away from me whatever the case may be. Now, it appears I had discovered I was an “ass chick” meaning of course that asses were an attribute I noticed right away. It also seemed I was developing a knack for knowing when to look away. By the time he stood up with his own scooper brimming with grain in his hand, I had already raised my eyes and had a patient look on my face. Apparently there are some things Mother Nature equips you with once you notice the opposite sex. Almost without realizing it, I was feeling like a girl for the first time.
We went to the stall farthest away from the grain room and he showed me where to dump the grain. Over and over we returned to the bin until all the horses were given their portion of grain for the day. When Lil Miss got her food, I made sure to give her an extra kiss so she wouldn’t get mad at me for spending time with Jim instead of her. After all the grain was delivered Jim turned to me and said, “Now it’s time to go get the hay.”
“Where’s the hay?” I asked.
“Up there,” he answered and pointed directly above us.
Raising my eyes I looked up to see that there was an attic of sorts in the roof of the barn and it was loaded with bales and bales of hay. I also noticed that it looked very high. “How are we supposed to get up there?” I nervously asked. I was afraid of heights but I was NOT going to show him that.
“We climb,” he simply said.
“Climb what?” I asked. Again he pointed and I saw a ladder had been built into the wall. The rungs went straight up and ended at the top where the floor started. There was no railing.
“Scared?” Jim said with a little smile on his face.
“No!” I replied. “Just haven’t ever climbed up into a hay area before.”
“It’s called a hay mow little girl, not a hay area,” he said.
“Thanks for letting me know what to call it and I am NOT a little girl,” I responded with some heat.
Tilting that black haired head to the side, he gave me the up/down look I had given him over an hour before. By the time his eyes made it up to my face I think I was so red I could have ignited myself. “No,” he said with a voice suddenly gone quiet. “I can see you are definitely NOT a little girl.
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I love this story. She sooo reminds me of myself; the indecision about men, the uncertain family dynamics, and all. I love her writing. She’s beginning to be a real person to me. Keep it up, Peanut!!
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