would have to do. She tried to shake the wrinkles out of her white cotton undershirt and then made the spur of the moment decision to unpack. She just couldn’t handle the wrinkles, she reasoned with herself. She could always easily re-pack when she needed to, she hadn’t brought that much anyway.
There was a small closet that she had found in the bathroom and she hung most of her clothes in there, only placing her undergarments and nightgowns in the drawers of the dresser near the bed. She felt much better when the task was finished, more in control of the situation. She decided to stick with just the cotton t-shirt and slacks, not knowing what Ben had in store for her today. The real dilemma came when she looked at her shoe selection. She only had heels and she was pretty sure those wouldn’t do.
She wrapped her hair into a tight, efficient bun and applied some light make-up before heading downstairs, barefoot once again. She hoped Mrs. Owens might have a pair of shoes she could borrow.
She passed through the dark entryway quickly and headed straight for the kitchen. She found Ben lounging at the kitchen table drinking a cup of coffee. He looked up expectantly when she entered and examined her from head to toe. She squirmed under his scrutiny, wishing she could control the blush that was rising into her cheeks.
“Like omelets?” Ben questioned.
“Sure.” She agreed smiling. Maybe today they could start fresh without all the animosity.
“Good.” He said standing from the table and picking up a basket which he thrust into her arms. “The chicken coup is through that door and to the left, we’ll need about ten eggs.” He instructed pointing to the kitchen door, laughter and challenge dancing in his eyes.
“I don’t have any shoes.” Cassidy admitted reluctantly, they both looked down at her bare feet. He looked back up, one eyebrow raised in question. “ I only brought heels. I was hoping Mrs. Owens might have some I could borrow.” She explained feeling foolish.
“ Mrs. Owens doesn’t get up until five.” He told her then turned and walked into a room off the kitchen. He returned shortly carrying a pair of work boots. “You can use these.” He offered handing them to her.
She placed the basket on the table to take the boots. They were huge. She looked back up into his expectant face. He was watching for her reaction, a smile playing around his lips. She glared back and plopped down into a kitchen chair pulling on the boots. She didn’t even have to unlace them to pull them on.
She stood and grabbed the basket then stomped out of the kitchen without another word. She clomped her way across the back yard looking for the chicken coup. The boots were ridiculously large causing her to have to take exaggerated steps. “Mrs. Owens doesn’t get up until five,” she mimicked to herself as she searched for the coup. Apparently she was the only one he felt the need to torture this early in the morning.
She found the coup easily. There was a small door on the front ; she examined it a moment before opening it and crawling inside. Two rows of chickens lined each wall, each chicken sat on a nest. She considered her options for a minute before approaching the first chicken. It eyed her warily. Slowly she reached out toward it wondering if it would allow her to simply reach beneath it and pull out an egg. Apparently not. As soon as her hand was in striking distance the chicken pecked at her viciously, squawking and flapping its wings. The other chickens followed suit and in no time the coup became a mass of swirling feathers, flapping wings and angry chickens.
Fearfully Cassidy covered her face an d backed out of the coup with images from the movie The Birds playing in her head. She scrambled backwards on her hands and knees falling back onto the ground once she was outside. She looked down at the spot of blood on her hand from the vicious chicken.
She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t return to
There was a small closet that she had found in the bathroom and she hung most of her clothes in there, only placing her undergarments and nightgowns in the drawers of the dresser near the bed. She felt much better when the task was finished, more in control of the situation. She decided to stick with just the cotton t-shirt and slacks, not knowing what Ben had in store for her today. The real dilemma came when she looked at her shoe selection. She only had heels and she was pretty sure those wouldn’t do.
She wrapped her hair into a tight, efficient bun and applied some light make-up before heading downstairs, barefoot once again. She hoped Mrs. Owens might have a pair of shoes she could borrow.
She passed through the dark entryway quickly and headed straight for the kitchen. She found Ben lounging at the kitchen table drinking a cup of coffee. He looked up expectantly when she entered and examined her from head to toe. She squirmed under his scrutiny, wishing she could control the blush that was rising into her cheeks.
“Like omelets?” Ben questioned.
“Sure.” She agreed smiling. Maybe today they could start fresh without all the animosity.
“Good.” He said standing from the table and picking up a basket which he thrust into her arms. “The chicken coup is through that door and to the left, we’ll need about ten eggs.” He instructed pointing to the kitchen door, laughter and challenge dancing in his eyes.
“I don’t have any shoes.” Cassidy admitted reluctantly, they both looked down at her bare feet. He looked back up, one eyebrow raised in question. “ I only brought heels. I was hoping Mrs. Owens might have some I could borrow.” She explained feeling foolish.
“ Mrs. Owens doesn’t get up until five.” He told her then turned and walked into a room off the kitchen. He returned shortly carrying a pair of work boots. “You can use these.” He offered handing them to her.
She placed the basket on the table to take the boots. They were huge. She looked back up into his expectant face. He was watching for her reaction, a smile playing around his lips. She glared back and plopped down into a kitchen chair pulling on the boots. She didn’t even have to unlace them to pull them on.
She stood and grabbed the basket then stomped out of the kitchen without another word. She clomped her way across the back yard looking for the chicken coup. The boots were ridiculously large causing her to have to take exaggerated steps. “Mrs. Owens doesn’t get up until five,” she mimicked to herself as she searched for the coup. Apparently she was the only one he felt the need to torture this early in the morning.
She found the coup easily. There was a small door on the front ; she examined it a moment before opening it and crawling inside. Two rows of chickens lined each wall, each chicken sat on a nest. She considered her options for a minute before approaching the first chicken. It eyed her warily. Slowly she reached out toward it wondering if it would allow her to simply reach beneath it and pull out an egg. Apparently not. As soon as her hand was in striking distance the chicken pecked at her viciously, squawking and flapping its wings. The other chickens followed suit and in no time the coup became a mass of swirling feathers, flapping wings and angry chickens.
Fearfully Cassidy covered her face an d backed out of the coup with images from the movie The Birds playing in her head. She scrambled backwards on her hands and knees falling back onto the ground once she was outside. She looked down at the spot of blood on her hand from the vicious chicken.
She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t return to
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