by Peak, Renna
I shake my head, suddenly filled with a swell of gratitude that I push down before I blush too much. “What about you? Did you find something?”
“Yes.” He doesn’t offer any more than that, but a little way behind him I see a couple of men moving a headboard. With a smile at him, I slide off the mattress and dart over to it, curious about what he chose.
It’s a big piece made of dark, polished wood with reddish undertones. There’s a matching footboard, too, and each corner ends in a post that has been carved with an intricate spiral pattern. Otherwise, both headboard and footboard are simple and unadorned.
I sense him beside me, and I glance up at him. He doesn’t say anything, but I can tell by the slightly raised angle of his eyebrows that he’s waiting for me to voice my opinion. My grin widens—he might not want to admit it, but he wants to know what I think.
“It suits you,” I tell him. “Very much. I think you made a good choice.”
He shrugs, and the casual gesture looks awkward on him. “It’s a nice-looking bed. I suppose it will suit me.”
“There’s no ‘suppose’ about it,” I tell him. “Trust me. That bed will transform your life.”
He frowns slightly, in that way I think means he’s thinking. He really needs a better resting expression.
“Come on,” I tell him, poking him in the side. “Let’s pay and then get us both some proper ranch clothes.”
Nicholas
It takes an inordinate amount of time to shop for clothing. I sit outside the dressing room, giving the woman who runs the store a polite nod every time she passes by.
“What do you think?” Clara steps outside the door, looking down at herself.
“It’s the same as the last.” I try not to roll my eyes or appear otherwise annoyed with her. The frock she’s chosen is a sleeveless yellow sundress, one that is inappropriate for ranching. Though, I’ll admit it hugs her curves in a way that makes me not care very much.
She tilts her head with a grin. “The last one was blue. And had flowers all over it.”
“Lovely. You should get it then.” I look away from her. It wouldn’t do if she knew I found her the slightest bit attractive. She’s my employee. I need to remind myself of that, as many times as it takes. And regardless of whether or not she’s under my employ, she seems to be made of the stuff I’ve been trying so hard to get away from. I don’t need any drama here. I merely need some peace.
Clara returns to the dressing room, trying on every last bit of clothing she’s chosen, and forcing me to give her some sort of stamp of approval—as though I know what it is she should be wearing.
When she’s finally done, we walk back through the store to the registers.
About midway there, Clara stops in front of a display of hats.
“You should get one.” She turns to me with a grin. It’d make you look like a real cowboy.”
I frown at her before I look over at the hats. I’m not sure what it is about them that make me feel a strange longing in my chest. Perhaps it’s that I’ve had this dream in my head for so long—the dream of living on my own in a place like this. I suppose I always imagined I’d be wearing a hat like one of these—the tan one with the brown and red band appears especially appealing.
“Get it.” Clara grins at me again.
“I…” I look between her and the hat. “I’d better not.”
“Why not?” She pulls down a white hat that looks more like something someone would wear in a garden than while riding a horse. “I’m getting this one.”
Her nonsense snaps me out of my fantasy, and I begin to walk toward the registers again.
I set my clothing down in front of the woman running the store. Clara stands about ten feet behind me, fiddling with a display of earrings.
“Are you in need of jewelry as well?” I ask her.
“What? No.” She turns to me with a forced smile. “They’re just pretty.”
I motion toward the counter with my hand. “Are you going to set your clothing down? I don’t think—”
“You don’t have to buy them for me. I’m quite capable of buying them myself.”
My brow furrows as I look at her for a moment. It’s fairly clear she’s in some sort of trouble—why else would she show up in the middle of nowhere with nothing in her possession, insisting on working at a job she knows nothing about.
Something about her sets off every warning bell inside me, but there’s something else about her that makes me not care. That makes me want to protect her.
I turn to the woman at the register. “I’ll take these, too,” I say, motioning toward Clara.
Clara sets the items on the counter before she throws her arms around me, pulling me into a tight embrace.
“I…” I can’t seem to find my words. I place a hand on her back, letting myself feel her warmth for the briefest moment before I drop my hand to my side again.
This isn’t right. She’s your employee, I remind myself. My employee.
The embrace lasts for far too long, and I’m acutely aware of every place she’s touching—her hands at my neck, her face against my chest, her body pressed tightly to the rest of me.
I realize immediately I’m a bit too aroused by the embrace, and I clear my throat, stepping away from Clara.
She lifts herself onto her tiptoes, pressing a kiss against my cheek.
I look down at her, my eyes wide. What the hell is she doing? Throwing herself at me?
But I haven’t enough time to finish my thought before she pulls away and skips—skips—toward the back of the store again.
I shake my head, turning back to the cashier to finish my transaction.
Before we’re done, Clara returns with the hat I’d been admiring, placing it on the counter before she smiles up at me. “We’re getting this one, too.”
Clara
In spite of Nick’s best efforts, it’s been a productive day. We’ve each got a nice new wardrobe to take home with us and the furniture should be delivered by nightfall. That means we’ll be all set to start the real work tomorrow. Once I figure out what the real work is, of course.
I pull out my phone as Nick drives, taking advantage of the brief bit of cell service to pull up the internet and do a search about ranch management. It’s better than nothing, but I know even before the results come up that there’s no way I’m going to learn everything I need to know in the few minutes before I lose service again.
That’s when I glance up and happen to notice the bookstore.
“Stop!” I shout.
Nick slams on the brakes, and the pickup truck behind us has to swerve to keep from rear-ending us. The driver lays on the horn as he passes.
“What are you doing?” Nick demands. “Have you gone mad?”
I don’t know why, but when Nick’s angry his accent gets more pronounced, and he sounds like someone from one of those historical dramas on TV. It’s kind of funny, actually.
“There’s a bookstore,” I tell him, biting back laughter. “Can we stop?”
“That is why you nearly killed us? For a bloody bookstore?”
“Well, hopefully it’s not bloody,” I say, grinning at him. “I’d hate to stumble into the middle of a bookstore massacre.”
Nick somehow manages to widen his eyes and lower his brows at the same time. His expression seems to be both angry and shocked at once.
“Where did you say you went to college?” I ask him. “You’ve sure held onto that weird accent, haven’t you? You might want to work on that, you know. It makes your anger much less effective. Your accent is way too cute.”
“Cute?”
“Yeah. Trust me.” I look him up and down. “If you put on a flowing white shirt and rode bareback across a meadow, you’d fit right into one of those historical romances. Girls would be lining up for you. And if you do that brooding thing you like to do with your eyes, they’d swoon right at your feet.”
I’m pretty sure I’ve shocked him speechless, and that on
ly makes me want to laugh more. I almost tell him so, but before I can say anything, a car horn sounds behind us.
Grumbling under his breath, Nick pulls into the bookstore parking lot.
“I’ll only be a minute,” I tell him, unbuckling my seatbelt. “You can wait here if you want.” I pray that he takes me up on that offer. Even though I know he knows that I have no idea what I’m doing when it comes to his ranch, I’d still like to play the part for as long as possible. It makes me feel more confident.
“Fine,” he says. I’m pretty sure he’ll be grateful to have a few minutes without me, judging by how hard he’s gripping the steeling wheel.
Poor Nick. He really needs to loosen up a little. Sliding out of the car, I dart inside the shop.
Fortunately, even though this place is a lot smaller than the bookstores I’m used to, it has a huge section on ranching, farming, and other similar topics. I quickly browse through the selection and find a couple that look like great resources. I don’t want to spend too much money—even with room and board covered for the next month, I only have two thousand dollars to my name for the foreseeable future—but I feel better knowing I’ll have at least some reference for what I’m doing from now on.
When I return to the car a few minutes later, Nick seems to have calmed down. Mostly. He’s wearing his usual frown, but he’s not gripping the steering wheel for dear life anymore. He’s looking out the driver’s side window at an open field beyond the edge of the bookstore parking lot. From this angle I can see just how defined his jawline is, just how straight and proud his nose is. I wasn’t lying when I told him he could be the white-shirted hero of a romance—he definitely has the looks for it.
Look at you, creating fantasies around the first guy you’ve met since breaking your engagement, I think. You’re a piece of work, Clara.
Pushing all thoughts of his looks out of my mind, I open the car door and climb inside.
“I got something for you,” I tell him. “Think of it as an apology gift.” I reach into the paper bag in my arms and pull out a sci-fi novel called Soul of Defiance. “I think you’d like this one. It’s got lots of action and adventure.”
He looks a little stunned as I shove the book into his hands.
“You’ll need something to do at night, considering we don’t have a TV or internet,” I say. “Unless, of course, you’d rather we try and entertain each other. I warn you—I can talk a lot once I get started.”
“I hadn’t noticed,” he replies, still looking at the book. He flips it over in his hands, then finally glances back at me. “Thank you, Clara.”
I smile. “You’re welcome.” He’s actually thanking me—that’s progress, right? We might become friends after all.
The ride back is relatively uneventful. So uneventful, in fact, that I end up leaning my head against the window and letting the vibrations of the car on the road lull me into a deep calm.
I don’t even notice myself falling asleep. The next thing I’m aware of is a smooth rocking beneath me and a warmth against my cheek. As I hover on the edge of consciousness, I realize I’m being carried.
I sigh, snuggling my cheek deeper against the warm chest. It’s been a long time since I felt this comfortable in Adam’s arms. It’s nice, just being held and carried.
“Who’s Adam?” comes a deep voice that definitely doesn’t belong to my fiancé.
Wait—former fiancé.
With a jerk, I come fully awake. It’s not Adam carrying me—it’s Nick. My new employer. The events of the last couple days come flooding back, and I squirm out of his arms, landing not-so-gracefully on my feet.
“I’m sorry,” I say, glancing around. We’re in the middle of his empty living room, at the foot of the stairs up to the next level. He’s carried me in from the car. My legs are still a little unsteady, so I place a hand on the wall nearby until I regain my balance.
“There’s no need to apologize,” he says. “You didn’t wake when I parked the car. I thought I’d let you sleep.” He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, which is an oddly inelegant gesture for him. But his blue eyes are still as focused as ever. “Who’s Adam?”
“He’s no one,” I say quickly. “It doesn’t matter.” Suddenly I feel like running away, only there’s not really anywhere to go. “I…I think I will go take a nap, though.”
I don’t wait for him to say anything. I dart past him up the stairs and into my new bedroom. It’s not until I’ve closed the door behind me that I remember I still don’t have a bed yet. The pair of blankets I slept on last night are still spread in the middle of the floor, but I ignore them and go over to the window. My hands are shaking, but I don’t know why. I don’t want to think about why.
It takes a few tries to get the window open, but the fresh breeze that floats in once I do makes it worth it. I breathe deeply, trying to calm down.
This is your new life, I tell myself, looking out across the fields at the distant mountains, and I remind myself of everything that lies in front of me. Everything behind me can disappear.
Nicholas
I’ve always been something of a night owl, and I suppose I hadn’t considered how that might conflict with the necessity of rising early to work on a ranch.
Still, as I lie on my new bed, I can’t help but think that moving here was the right decision. I never thought I could actually appreciate a lack of cellular service, but not having my phone light up with constant texts has been freeing in a way I never dreamed. All the little things my family thinks are such emergencies—things that require an answer right now—must not be all that important.
I’ll admit, I did check my phone when Clara went into the bookstore earlier today. And while there were several messages, it wasn’t nearly the amount I expected. Instead of the drivel that my siblings usually send, there were only texts asking if I was well. It was a bit…shocking.
Imagine it. My family might actually care about my wellbeing.
It isn’t so much that they don’t care, it’s more that they worry about other things more. And the nonsense they carry on about…
I don’t need to concern myself with their folly now. I should be sleeping, preparing myself for the day tomorrow, but I find myself wide-awake, even at this late hour.
Perhaps I should have gone into the bookstore with Clara. I might have found something more enjoyable than this science fiction nonsense that she gave me.
But as I page through the book, I find myself engrossed in the story. It isn’t half-bad, though I doubt I’d ever admit it to anyone I know. Perhaps I’ll have to give genre fiction more of a chance, at least now that I have little else to fill my nights.
You could have plenty to fill your nights, I think. Clara practically threw herself at you today.
I shove the thought away immediately. I suppose a hug isn’t exactly throwing herself at me, but I can’t deny what that embrace made me feel.
But it’s not only highly inappropriate to have any sort of sexual thoughts about an employee—I refuse to allow myself that sort of thinking at all.
I’m not like my brothers, I think as I toss the book onto the bed beside me. I don’t need a woman—or women, in the case of Leopold—to fulfill me. Besides, I’ve already had my heart broken once. I’m not about to allow it to happen again.
And that is precisely why I came here. I’ve no need for anyone else in my life. Something about this place clears my head. Perhaps it’s the fresh air or the open space. Even with the amount of work to do on the ranch, I haven’t felt so…calm in a very long while.
At least until Clara arrived yesterday. Something about her presence has made my chest feel tight again, and I find myself clenching my jaw all too often.
She’s a coworker. An employee, I remind myself as I slide off my bed. I’m not sure what has me so restless, but I need to get some air.
I walk toward the kitchen, thinking I’ll make myself some of the blasted cocoa that Clara insisted we purchase at the grocery. I can
sit on the porch and take in some air, and perhaps that will be enough to allow me some blissful sleep.
“What are you doing?” Clara jumps, nearly dropping the mug in her hand as I enter the kitchen.
I lift a brow. “I could ask the same of you.”
“I…I couldn’t sleep. I thought I’d make myself some cocoa. Would you like some?”
My gaze narrows. It seems quite unlikely that we would have had the same thought this late at night.
She doesn’t wait for me to answer, instead turning toward the stove to get the kettle to pour the liquid into another cup. “Even though this is the fake stuff, it’s not too bad. Next time we go to the store, though, I’m going to get the ingredients to make some real cocoa.”
I take the mug from her, and she follows me onto the porch.
“You should get a swing—you know, one of those bench swings? I always imagined myself sitting on one of those, looking out over my ranch while I held my husband’s hand—”
She cuts herself off, and even though there is little light out here, I can see a deep shade of crimson has blossomed on her cheeks.
I sit on the edge of the deck without acknowledging her comment. I suppose a porch swing would be a nice addition, but it seems unimportant at the moment.
Clara comes to sit beside me, and we sip at our drinks. The sky is overcast tonight, and while I suppose the clouds keep the air a bit warmer, I’m a little disappointed that I can’t see the stars. It’s another thing I never considered, but one that has been a pleasant surprise—it seems I can see every single star in the sky when the night is clear. There’s no light pollution here, making the nights as calm as the days.
She interrupts my thoughts a moment later. “Why did you come here?”
“Pardon?”
She laughs, a lilting sound that makes the tightness in my chest release the slightest bit. “Exactly.”
“I don’t follow.” I take another sip of my beverage. I’ll probably never admit it, but it’s the perfect thing to drink while sitting in the crisp night air.