Mr. Ambrose leads me out the side door of the house, and I still can’t quite believe I’m here, walking around a place that is my idea of paradise. My mouth hangs open in awe and wonder as I look around the back edge of the property. There’s a classic looking red barn that has hens and tiny yellow chicks wandering in and out. I also hear a rooster making his presence known from inside and am grateful I don’t have to be around for what I’m sure is an early and abrupt wake up call.
We go into the penned-in area and up to a beautiful chestnut mare whose neck is obscuring the ranch hand’s upper body from view. Around us, some cows eye us curiously as they munch on hay.
“Ben,” Mr. Ambrose begins, “I’d like you to meet Ms. Carlisle. She’s interested in the gardening position.”
Suddenly I can’t breathe as the man steps out from behind the horse and takes a few steps toward us. A pair of hazel eyes stare at me from beneath a cowboy hat that has an even thicker layer of dirt and dust than the property owner’s. Under his hat is short chocolate brown hair and skin tanned by the sun. He extends his arm, offering his hand to shake, but my gaze shifts, distracted by the muscles moving and flexing underneath his shirt. Despite their concealment, it’s clear this man is in peak physical condition.
Ben clears his throat, and my eyes snap back to his, my cheeks beginning to burn. A smile reaches my lips as I take a small step forward to take his hand. Gravity intervenes though and my toe snags on some nonexistent obstacle, causing me to stumble right into this very fit man’s now outstretched arms.
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to wish myself into an alternate universe, one where I’m not the clumsiest person on the planet. Sadly, no matter how hard I try to manifest this new reality, I can still feel Ben’s arms steadying me, which now has my whole body heating up in embarrassment.
I raise my head to look at my rescuer and our eyes meet. I notice that amidst the sea of olive green is a swirl of turquoise, and my mouth goes dry. I regain my footing and rub the back of my neck while holding out my right hand, a sheepish smile on my face.
“Sorry about that. It’s nice to meet you,” I manage. He shakes my hand, the left corner of his mouth tilting up.
Mr. Ambrose chuckles and I jump, dropping Ben’s hand, forgetting he’s there.
“Please tread slowly and carefully for the rest of the day, Ms. Carlisle, for your sake and the plants’.” He shakes his head at me amusedly before turning his attention to Ben. “Give this young lady a quick tour of the gardens and show her all the equipment she’ll need. Lunch is at one o’clock. Good luck.” The last part is directed at me and he heads back to the house.
I fiddle with my fingers and chew on my lip, deciding I should at least attempt to explain myself and my behavior, but Ben gets the first word in.
“Where’s your hat?”
My right hand pats the top of my head as if expecting one to magically appear, but my brows furrow as I come up empty-handed. “My-my what?” I stammer.
“Your hat,” he says more slowly, motioning to the cowboy hat sitting atop his own head.
My stomach drops, trying to remember if Lexie mentioned anything about headgear last night. Drawing a blank, I shrug my shoulders and say, “No one told me I needed a hat.”
He lets out an exasperated sigh and rolls his eyes, any hint of that half smile from earlier gone. “You’re going to be working outside in direct sunlight for almost 12 hours. No one should have to tell you that you need a hat. It should be common sense.”
Ben turns away toward the stable and I quickly try to blink away the tears suddenly forming, wondering how I could be so thoughtless. He comes back and I manage a half hearted smile as a battered tan baseball cap is being held out to me. Cautiously, I take it.
“This is the only spare hat I have here. You can borrow it until you get your own. The only issue is it doesn’t have a brim all the way around, so there’s nothing to cover your ears or neck. Hopefully you wore sunscreen.”
I put the hat on my head, having to tilt it back a little to keep the brim from blocking my vision too much. Those hazel eyes seem to soften a bit before Ben looks down, clearing his throat.
“Thank you,” I say, and he nods before motioning for me to follow him out of the pen.
A/N: A shorter chapter, so I hope you guys don’t mind! This just all came together last night and I really loved it. I find that when I try to write longer chapters, I get a bit overwhelmed and bogged down. Plus, with teaching during the week, it’s easier to complete shorter chapters and take the pictures.
I hope you liked meeting Ben . . . or at least liked looking at him? I know I do, haha!
I would love to hear your thoughts, ideas, predictions, etc. in the comments below, and thank you for reading ❤
Bloom Where You're Planted 
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