Ben's Folly by Lisa Freed

Author:Lisa Freed
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: time travel romance
Publisher: Lisa Freed
Published: 2021-03-29T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

After a needed detour to the dreaded outhouse, Ben made it to the barn to see Bart carrying the milk pail for his son. Even from the barn door, Ben saw the naked love that shone on Harrison’s face.

Lest he be caught witnessing this tender moment and embarrass the younger man, Ben grabbed a milking stool from the peg on the barn wall and a pail, banging the pail loudly against the wooden stool.

“Running slow this morning, Ben?” Bart quipped as he returned the now empty pail to Harrison.

“Farm life is new to Ben,” Cyrus spoke up from his seated position next to a cow.

“That it is,” Ben said taking his place in a row of docile cows. Mentally he tried to prepare himself for the next several hours. Desperately he wished for a radio or something to break up the monotony. As he rubbed the cow’s velvety soft firm udder, his mind drifted as he pondered if the radio had even been invented yet.

He was so lost in thought that he didn’t even notice when Hazel joined them, placing her stool in the row behind him until her voice penetrated through his concentration.

“I think she’s ready to be milked now.”

Quickly turning, Ben saw Hazel grinning broadly at him. A slow smile spread across his face as he realized he had been rubbing the cow for several minutes. “Thanks!” he called back.

“Ben, you never did say what type of work you do,” Bart said as he passed behind him with another full milk pail to empty.

“Oh, a bit of this and that,” Ben said, wracking his brain to come up with something acceptable.

“Oh aye, we all do that and this,” Cyrus said cryptically.

Bart made a rude noise deep in his throat before he spat on the ground near Ben’s feet. The other man had stopped next to him on his return trip with the empty pail. “Sounds like a lay about life to me. Soft hands, soft man.”

Raising his head, Ben found Bart’s brilliant blue eyes on him, gauging Ben’s reaction to his words. Would the other man’s esteem for him rise if he took a swing at him? Though sorely tempted to find out, he clenched his hands, and lowered his eyes feeling the blood rushing to his head as anger bubbled hotly in him.

The poor cow he was milking turned her head, eyeing him with very human brown eyes that seemed to ask what she had done to deserve this treatment. Disgusted with himself, Ben released the cow’s teats and gave her side a pat.

“Maybe you meant gentleman, Bart? Gentle hands and such?”

“Are you saying I’m no gentleman?” Bart hissed, crouching down so his face was in line with Ben’s.

With a start, Ben realized that Bart was probably his age, it was just a hard life that had aged him. The same way it would age Hazel. A sharp pain twisted in his gut at that idea and in an instant, his anger was gone.

“Not at all,” Ben said, his grin, he hoped, full of innocence.

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