AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter Thirteen
Kaylee groaned. Why hadn’t she stayed in the stands?
It’d been all fun and games when she was convincing Luke to do it. However, the amusement was lost now that she was being recruited to be a chicken chaser.
She looked from Emma’s pleading face to Luke’s amused one. Shehadfaced one of her biggest fears earlier that day when she’d gotten on the horse. And taking that ride with Luke had had a major payoff. And she wasn’t just thinking of the scenery.
She didn’t know any of these people, she reasoned. And she’d be gone in a few days. And she couldn’t destroy Emma’s chance of getting that bicycle. So, what else could she do?
“Fine. I’ll do it.”
“Yay!” Emma jumped up and down then threw her arms around Kaylee. “Thank you.”
The fairgrounds woman handed them each a clipboard and a pen. “You’re gonna need to sign this waiver.”
“What is it?” Kaylee said, scanning the page as Luke scribbled his name on his and passed it back to the woman.
“It basically states that you’re an adult over the age of eighteen and that you won’t sue us if any damages occur during the competition.”
“Damages? Like what?” Her voice rose. “Are there hidden dangers in chicken racing?” She jumped as she heard the squawks of several chickens as they were brought out in two crates to the center of the arena.
“Lady, I don’t know. I’m just a volunteer, but the event is getting ready to start,” the woman told her as she held out her hand. “So you can either sign this, or I can go get the alternates.”
Kaylee scribbled her name and passed the clipboard back.
Luke leaned in next to her and whispered, “Don’t worry. It’s not dangerous.”
She nodded a thanks for his reassurance.
Then his lips curved into a grin. “Just don’t trip and fall down or those chickens will attack and peck your eyes out.”
Gah. She was the least coordinated person.Of courseshe would trip. Especially now that she was thinking about it.
Before she had time to grab the waiver form back, the volunteer handed them each a white vest covered in chicken feathers and a red felt cowboy hat with a plastic chicken attached to a spring on top of it. The chicken bounced on the spring and bobbled back-and-forth with the movement.
Luke held up his hands. “No way. I amnotwearing that.”
The woman cocked an eyebrow. “I thought you wanted to win.”
“What does me wearing either of those ridiculous things have to do with winning the chicken race?”
She pointed to three people taking their seats at a table on the edge of the arena. “See those folks over there? They’re the judges. This race isn’t won just by getting your chickens across the line first. They also award points for style. So you’ve got to wear the hatandthe vestandmake ‘em look good. And italsohelps if you flap your arms around like chicken wings and holler ‘bawk bawk’ a lot. Like the more ‘bawks’ the better.”
Luke’s eyes widened as he stared first at the woman then at Kaylee.
“Don’t look at me,” Kaylee said, shrugging into the vest and nodding to Emma. “This washeridea.”
Emma pressed her palms together again and gave Luke another pleading look. “PleaseDad. I really want that bicycle. And it’s just for a few minutes. Think of it like a shot, it will be over before you know it.”
Kaylee could see him softening as he looked over to where the other couple, their competitors, we’re getting ready and both of them had a chicken bouncing on their heads. He took off his cowboy hat and passed it to Emma then held out his hand. “Fine. Give me the stupid hat.”
The fairgrounds woman passed him his props then pointed Emma toward the other side of the arena. “All right now honey. Your mom and dad need to get ready, so you go stand over there by that table,” she told the girl. “You can cheer your folks on from there.”
“All right,folks, you got this.” Emma beamed, looking adorable with Luke’s too-big hat sitting on her head as she held her hand up to high-five each of them then ran toward the designated spectator area.
“Just so you know,” Kaylee told Luke as they walked toward the starting line. “Any hope we have of winning rests solely on your shoulders. I don’t know a thing about chickens. Except that I prefer legs over thighs. I’ll do what I can to help, but I just hope there’s a good runner-up prize.”
“I can handle the chickens. But I’m counting on you to do the majority of the bawk-bawking and arm-flapping.”
