AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I forgot to give you gloves.” Her hands were red where the twine dug into her skin, but so far, she wasn’t bleeding. Carefully, he put his large gloves on her much smaller hands.
“I do not need gloves. I am fine,” she argued, instantly starting to take off the gloves.
“From now on, you will be wearing gloves. I’m not going to be to blame if you get damaged.”
“I am not really a glove person, Mathias,” she insisted.
Turning, she grabbed the last bale and put it on the pile. Then she pulled off the gloves and tucked them into her back pocket. “What’s next?”
Damn, she looked cute in her borrowed rubber boots. The chilly air and exertion had turned her cheeks red, and the wind had messed up her hair. It took effort not to pull her into his arms and show her what a good old fashion roll in the hay was. Almost more effort than Math had.
Instantly angry he turned, he walked away from her without saying a word, why was he thinking about her that way again. This time he knew she was following because he could hear her footsteps on the ground behind him. For a moment, he wondered what she was thinking, then dismissed it. She was probably thinking about leaving here.
“This next project was the reason for the boots,” he answered, leading her across the yard to the old barn. It was dim inside the building. Over winter, he had to keep some cows in here for a few weeks. Her task was to clean the barn of all the hay, straw, and manure with a pitchfork and shovel. He already had the manure spreader at the end of the barn waiting to be filled—by hand.
“I need this clean,” was all he said before walking away. Again, he left her to do it the way she thought it should be done. He would give her points for moving a few dozen hay bales, but this was going to take her some time.
This time he forced himself to stay away until lunch. He had ended up helping with the hay bales, but he told himself he wouldn’t help this time. This time, it was all her. That had given him enough time to fix his tractor and get it put back together.
Walking back to the barn, he glanced towards the house, expecting her car to be gone. Half the time he had purchased was gone, and she hadn’t said anything about finances.
Stepping into the barn, he saw her leaning against the wall of one of the old horse stalls. She had taken off her coat and wasn’t wearing the gloves—they were sitting on her jacket, lying on top of a fence rail. But the pitchfork was resting against her body with her arm over it to hold it in place while she typed with her thumbs. Tess also had headphones in, and he could hear the hum of music coming from the white buds in her ears. Her head was gently moving with the music.
She still hadn’t noticed him when she slid the phone back in her pocket and started to pick up the pile of hay, straw, and manure she had created. Then she deftly carried it over to the spreader and threw it over the side.
Suddenly, she saw him standing there. Stopping, she pulled the headphones from her ears. “You are back.”
“You’re not wearing the gloves.”
“I am not moving bales. No gloves needed for these tools.” She pointed at them.
Stepping further into the barn, he saw that she was over halfway done with the project. Her efficiency amazed him.
“You still need gloves.” He couldn’t believe she had been working for over two hours with no gloves on again. Stomping over to her, he picked up her hands. He softly rubbed his thumbs over the red welts. Her hands were redder than they were before. This morning they had been white and soft, and now they were angry red but still small and warm in his big hands.
She pulled her hands from his. “I do not need gloves. I am fine.”
“It’s lunchtime.” Math turned away from her and walked to the house, suddenly missing her hands in his. Although this time he made sure she was following, even if she seemed far more interested in the farm around her than him looking at her. Smiling at her stubbornness, he was starting to rethink his plan. Quitting wasn’t in her vocabulary, and she would hurt herself before she admitted defeat.
In the house, he started to make hotdogs and a can of baked beans. As he poured the beans into a pot on the stove, he wondered if she was a vegetarian or something. But he decided she would probably rather eat meat than admit to him she didn’t.
He heard the door slam behind him as she entered the house. Math wanted to look and see if she was okay, but he stayed in the kitchen. It took some time, but she finally came into the kitchen and set her leather bag on the table.
“Where is a restroom?” She was looking around the room for a clue.
He pointed down the hallway, and she headed that way. Once she was gone, he took out two plates and set them on the counter. Then he went to the fridge and took out ketchup, mustard, and two cans of pop.
She came back and was now carrying her sweatshirt over her arm. Under it, she had worn a Landstad Tiger’s T-shirt. The shirt followed her curves like his hands had two months before, and he itched to do again.
“You have a beautiful home, Mathias. Very farmhouse, which of course it is.” She was looking around his house. The large kitchen behind him had a big island in the middle. The dining room was nearby and held a large table and half a dozen chairs. He didn’t even think she had seen the living room. His home didn’t have a modern, open plan but was more broken up into smaller rooms.
“Thank you.”
She put her sweatshirt on her leather bag. “Anything I can do to help?”
“No, I’ve got it.” He loaded up their plates without asking how much she wanted. Then he slid them across the island to where the stools were.
Taking a seat in front of one of the plates, she reached over to almost the other side of the island and grabbed a pop he had set there. In the process, he was able to catch sight of her taut stomach as her shirt rode up. Sitting down beside her, he nearly reached out and touched her bare skin.
