Kentucky Home by Sarah Title Read Free Book Online Page B

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    â€œThat’s why I need your help. I mean, if you have time. I can’t let Keith disrupt his, I don’t know, workflow, because I’m afraid of his dog. I mean, I appreciate it a lot. But he has to stop.”
    â€œSo . . . do you want me to talk to him?”
    â€œI think we both know that won’t do any good.” Chase nodded. “The only way he’s going to stop accommodating my fear of dogs is if I’m not afraid of dogs anymore.”
    Chase blinked at her. She was smiling brightly, as if she was just suggesting something obvious, like the best way to get rid of your thirst was to have a drink. She could tell he didn’t like where she was going. She had to talk fast.
    â€œSo I was thinking, since you’re a farm guy and stuff, and you’re pretty good with animals. Do you think you could, like, introduce me to Peanut? Just a little. I think if I get comfortable with him, it will be OK. Or at least Keith won’t have to worry about me.”
    â€œI don’t really think it’s my place to—”
    â€œChase, I’m begging you. Everyone around here is treating me with kid gloves, like I’m, I don’t know, a delicate flower or something. I’m not.” She sighed. “But I am afraid of dogs. So if I could just get comfortable with this one dog—”
    â€œWell, I don’t really have time, Mal. I have a lot of other things to get done today.”
    Her face fell. “Oh, of course. I didn’t think about that. Sorry, that was selfish. You’re right, I’ll just, ah, OK. Sorry.”
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    Chase watched her walk back to the house. No wonder Luke was marrying her; if this was what saying no to her was like, he didn’t think any man would ever be able to deny her anything.
    He headed back into the barn to tell Keith that Luke’s fiancée was starting to get ideas.
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    Mal did not go back into the kitchen. There was nothing for her in the kitchen, not since she could see Miss Libby working at the sink. Mal wouldn’t even be allowed to dry a dish. There was definitely nothing for her in the stables, not unless she wanted to be scowled at. She wished she knew how to ride. This would be the perfect time to saddle up and ride ’em out. Or was that only for after you’ve robbed a bank?
    She sighed and started to walk, not entirely sure where her legs would take her, but needing, well, distraction. Keith was just as high-handed and manipulative as Michael was. Maybe not as smooth about it, or maybe he was smoother. If she’d never discovered that he’d put Peanut out, then he would have that to hold over her. When really, it wasn’t a good deed. She was afraid of dogs, so he should keep dogs away. Common decency. You don’t have to be grateful for common decency.
    That was a favorite saying of Michael’s. He had used that one ever since she’d met him. The first time was in the dorm, in college. They had ordered pizza for an American History study session (it wasn’t really a study session, what with the late night and the proximity to her tiny twin bed). When they were done eating, she cleared up the paper plates, taking the pizza box out to the big trash can in the hall. When she came back, Michael was leaning against her bed, taking notes from her notebook. She was a much better note-taker than he was. Especially since he went to only about a third of the lectures.
    â€œYou’re welcome,” she said sarcastically, picking up a stray napkin.
    He put down the notebook, reached for her hand to pull her down. She kneeled next to him, their faces level.
    â€œBabe, I paid for the pizza,” he said, cupping her face. She had to look at him or it would seem like she was pouting. “It’s only common decency that you should clean up. You’re not owed any thanks when you do something that is just common decency.”
    That was not the most