Chapter Four

Chase

Stepping on the rake and leaning on the handle, I take a look at my day’s work – dozens of windrows laid out to dry in the field.

I wipe my brow with a sweat-drenched sleeve, grateful for the breeze that passes by to cool it a moment later.

It’s already sunset, the skies turning from blue to amber, the same color as Lauren’s eyes.

I can still remember gazing into them, wide with curiosity, gleaming with desire, begging me to kiss her.

Many times during that “cooking lesson,” I had to summon all of my self-control and every ounce of morality to keep me from tucking my thumbs into her panties and tugging them down over her round ass cheeks. Had to stop myself from scraping a thumb over those pebbled nipples in her old cotton nightshirt.

Just the thought of having Lauren trembling beneath me under this sunset sky on a field of hay is enough to make me hard.

Maybe it’s her hair that’s in constant disarray. Maybe it’s her smoldering eyes. Or maybe it’s that air of innocence about her that reminds me of a wildflower in the middle of the woods, unseen and untouched, that draws me to her like a moth to a flame.

She is unlike any woman I’ve ever known.

Thinking of her only makes my problem worse so I stop. My arms, back, and legs are already aching. There’s no need to put myself through more pain.

Lifting the rake and carrying it over my shoulder, I trudge to the tool shed, depositing the rake there. Then I drag myself to my barn, placing a hand over my aching rib.

It’s better than it was weeks ago but it still hurts sometimes, especially after a long day’s work. A bath usually helps, though, and I’m thinking of taking one before eating the dinner Lauren has prepared for me and then going straight to bed after.

After a few minutes, the sky above me already charcoal, I reach the barn. I say barn but it’s more of a large shed, really, made of wood that already has most of its paint peeled off and some rusty metal sheets for a roof. Isaac says it’s where all his farmhands have stayed. And I’ve seen traces of them inside, some names carved into the walls and a pair of old, tattered boots under the cot.

I’m not complaining. A roof over my head, however old or rickety, is better than none at all.

I open the door – there’s no lock – and go in, stepping back after I turn on the lone lightbulb and find Isaac sitting on the chair.

“Jesus,” I mutter, placing a hand on my forehead. “Are you trying to scare me to death or something?”

“Sorry,” Isaac says as he strokes his beard. “It was still bright when I came so I didn’t turn the lights on. I was waiting for you and as I sat here, I started thinking about the days when there were plenty of farmhands happily cramped into this barn. Good friends, too. I must have been so lost in thought I didn’t notice it getting dark.”

I sigh, sitting on the edge of the cot. “You can always hire more farmhands, you know. There’s plenty of work for more than one.”

Isaac narrows his eyes at me. “You complaining?”

“No,” I answer. “Just saying. The ranch could do better, too, with proper equipment and–”

“Don’t tell me how to run my ranch, boy,” Isaac warns, tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair.

I nod. “Sorry.”

I take off my boots.

“So, what are you doing here?”

“I just came to talk.” Isaac stands up.

“Am I not working hard enough?” I ask, concerned.

This may not be the easiest job but I need it. I need this place.

“That’s not it,” Isaac tells me. “You’re one of the hardest workers I’ve ever had.”

“Then did I do something wrong?”

“Did you?” He throws the question back at me.

I stop, panic rising from the pits of my stomach. Has Isaac somehow discovered my true identity and circumstances?

I get off the cot. “I don’t understand.”

“I think you do. I think you’ve seen the way my daughter looks at you, and I’ve seen the way you looked back at her in the storm cellar.”

Oh. This is about Lauren.

I raise my hands. “I swear I’ve done nothing to your daughter. I haven’t laid a finger on her.”

“And you won’t.” He stands in front of me. “That was part of our arrangement, I believe.”

I nod, remembering how Isaac told me when he hired me that one of his most important rules is that I stay away from his daughter whenever she’s home.

“Sure.” I step back, hands back in the air. “I swear I won’t touch her.”

It’s what Isaac wants to hear, what he needs to hear in order to let me stay, but even as I say the words, I know I don’t mean them.

I can’t.

“Good.” Isaac pats my shoulder. “Then we have an understanding.”

He heads to the door.

I sit back on the cot.

“Oh, by the way…” Isaac pauses at the doorway. “One of the pipes at the house is leaking. Maybe you can take care of it later?”

I nod, the thought of seeing Lauren making the corners of my lips turn up into a smile. “Sure.”