by Peak, Renna
“You don’t belong here any more than I do.” She pauses for a moment, though I can’t tell if it’s because she expects me to concur. “Where are you from? Originally?”
I gulp. I’ve never been a very good liar, but I’m not about to tell her where I come from originally. I suppose I should have had a story prepared—something that would be at least plausible. But I haven’t thought that far ahead. I hadn’t really expected to have anyone living with me—at least not so soon after I moved here myself. I’ve barely grown accustomed to living here on my own—
She interrupts my thoughts. “I’ve lived in New York my whole life. This was…not exactly planned. But I can’t imagine a more perfect place.”
“Mm.” I hope that is a sufficient answer for her.
“Have you traveled a lot? I always said I was going to travel. I mean, I went to Spain for a week when I was in high school. And I always said I was going to go back to Europe. I wanted to see everything, go everywhere.”
“And why didn’t you?”
Her head snaps around to look at me. “Life. You know, that little thing that happens after you graduate and shit gets real.” She shakes her head. “I’m sure you had things you wanted to do when you were a kid that you didn’t get to do once you became an adult.”
I say nothing. How can I answer that? There’s very little I haven’t done that I wanted to do—almost nothing I haven’t seen that I wanted to see. This…this ranch is what I’ve wanted most. This is my dream. Perhaps I haven’t realized how lucky I am to have had the opportunity to do whatever it is I like.
“You went to college in Europe. Is there anything there you still want to see?”
“In Europe?” I turn to look at her. “No.”
“No? You’ve seen it all?” She smiles at me. “You’ve really gone to every tiny little place there is to go? I seriously doubt that.”
“Hm.” I shrug, turning to gaze out over the ranch again, not that there’s much to see at this time of the night.
“There’s just so much to see in this world. So many things to do.”
“Or you could just enjoy what you have now. Stop thinking there’s more. What is that expression? Something about the grass not always being green—”
She cuts me off with a laugh. “The grass isn’t always greener? How do you not know that saying?”
“I know it. I just couldn’t think of it.”
“Right.”
I can feel her staring at me for a long moment, but I don’t turn to face her. All this talk of Europe is certain to reveal my secret.
“You know what, Nick?”
“No. I’ve no idea.”
She laughs again, and the sound definitely does something to me this time. “You’re so weird.”
“So you’ve said.”
“You know what I think?”
“No, but I suspect you’re going to tell me.”
Clara laughs again before she loops her arm through mine. “I think we’re going to be friends.”
“Hm.” I shift myself away from her the slightest bit. Having her this close is a little too comfortable—which makes it quite uncomfortable for me.
“You know what else I think?”
I shake my head slowly, still unable to turn to look at her. “No.”
“I think you’re hiding something.”
Clara
I already know the truth, even before I see the terror flash across his face. It’s been obvious since the moment I met him that this man isn’t from around here, and he’s definitely not a rancher or cowboy.
Honestly, I only wanted to see the look on his face. He is so easy to rattle, and it’s really funny to watch him lose his composure. Men like him are used to having the upper hand, and they never quite know what to do when someone else wrestles it away from them.
“Don’t look so frightened, Nick,” I say. I take a long sip of my drink, enjoying for a moment more the sight of him trying not to squirm. “I won’t torture it out of you, I promise. We all have our secrets. In fact, let’s make a deal, the two of us.” I lower my cup and twist to face him fully. “No questions about each other’s pasts. Neither of us has to share any secrets we don’t want to.”
His eyes narrow, like he doesn’t trust the offer. I wonder whether he’s more worried about his own secrets or what I might be hiding. As long as he doesn’t ask me about Adam again, I don’t care.
I extend my hand toward him. “Deal?”
He hesitates, then reaches out. His hand stops just shy of mine.
“Are you not afraid, knowing so little about me?” he asks.
“What? Like your past might be full of murders and animal sacrifices or something? Nah.” I grin. “I fought off a mugger once. I think I could take you.” Granted, the mugger was a good six inches shorter than Nick, and I knew at a glance that his gun was fake, but that’s beside the point. Working in the corporate world makes you a pretty good judge of people, and I don’t think Nick’s the type to tie me up in his basement or something.
I wiggle my fingers. “So are we shaking or not?”
He sighs heavily, as if he finds this whole thing ridiculous, but he takes my hand. “It’s a deal. Neither of us is under any obligation to answer any questions about our past.”
“Good.” Now that that’s settled, I feel much better. Like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.
And my cocoa is almost done. As much as I’d like to sit out here all night, I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow, and I suspect I’ll have an easier time sleeping now.
I hop up. “I’m going back to bed. Goodnight, Nick.”
“Goodnight,” he says, and it sounds almost friendly. I suspect our little deal has made him feel better, too.
I return inside and stop only to leave my mug in the sink before heading upstairs. My new bed is calling to me, and I stop to admire the roses on the headboard once more before climbing onto the mattress. Nick had the foresight to grab a set of plain sheets from the furniture store, and I have a couple of those blankets piled on top, but on our next shopping trip I should probably find myself a proper comforter and maybe a couple of decorative pillows, just to give the room a little more character. Or a quilt—this bed is just begging for a beautiful quilt.
For tonight, though, it’s just warm enough for me to leave the window open, and I’m grateful for the breeze as I snuggle beneath the blankets. The soft sounds of night drift in as I slowly fall asleep.
And I can probably blame the cocoa, but I have the strangest, most vivid dreams. In the first one I’m riding a horse across an endless field of golden grass, the wind sweeping through my hair. I’m chasing something, but it’s too far ahead for me to see what. I only know that I desperately want it, whatever it is.
That dream shifts into something a little more amusing—I’m standing in William’s Feed and Supply, only Bill is an elephant for some reason. He’s telling me all about the strange, amusing people who live in Firebird Falls, but halfway through his stories a group of aliens bursts in through the door and Bill whips out some sort of sci-fi laser gun to fight them all off.
The third dream takes me in an entirely different direction. It starts out simple enough—I’m lying in my new bed, reading one of my new books on ranching, feeling perfectly content. A moment later, though, the door opens and Adam walks in.
Dream Adam is just as handsome as real-life Adam—pale hair swept to the side, not a strand out of place. He’s lithe and athletic—he did crew at Columbia—and he has that white, straight-toothed, almost boyish smile. His eyes light up as he walks over to me in the bed.
“Clara, thank God.”
But I’m anything but happy to see him. I throw the book on ranching aside, ashamed and horrified that he’s caught up with me. Guilt is a hard stone in my stomach, and I feel like I’m going to throw up as he throws his arms around me.
“You have no idea how worried I’ve been,” he says, pulling me close. “Thank God I’ve found you.” He be
gins kissing the side of my neck.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” I protest, pushing at his chest. “You’re not supposed to know where I am.”
It takes some effort, but I finally get him away from me. But when I see his face again, it’s no longer Adam in front of me. It’s Nick.
“You’d prefer to see me, wouldn’t you?” he says in that funny formal way of his. And then he leans back in and begins kissing my neck in the same was Adam kissed me only a few seconds ago.
And Dream Me is all for it. I’m a little ashamed of what happens next, but let’s just say Nick and I do things that I never even dreamed of doing with Adam. Literally. Things that I wasn’t aware I wanted to try, even in the deepest parts of my subconscious.
I wake in a hot sweat, my pajamas plastered to my body and my hair stuck to my face and neck. Throwing the blankets off me, I run over to the window, sticking my face out into the cold air.
Well, that was a surprise, I think. I didn’t come here looking for a hot fling or anything like that. Yeah, Nick is attractive, but I’ve met plenty of attractive men before. Even worked with them. Acknowledging someone is attractive on an objective level doesn’t mean anything.
But I can’t remember the last time I had a sex dream about anyone. Let alone one quite that…steamy. My face heats up just thinking about it, and I pray that this is one of those dreams that slips from my memory as I go about my day. This new job is already going to be complicated enough without me feeling awkward around my new boss for something stupid like an x-rated dream.
I rub the back of my hand across my forehead, wiping the now-cold sweat away. Out the window, the gray light of dawn is already peeking over the trees. I might as well get started on my day. It’s going to be a long one.
Sucking in one last breath of cool, fresh air, I quickly return to my bed and straighten the sweat-soaked sheets. Then I slip into some of my new clothes—soft jeans and a button-down shirt that feels like it should stand up to plenty of wear-and-tear, plus my new boots—and duck into the bathroom to brush my teeth and throw my hair up into a messy bun. No point in worrying about how I look when I’m probably going to be elbows-deep in stable muck for a couple of hours.
Finally, I grab one of my new books. I read a good bit of it before going to bed last night—making plenty of notes to myself in the margins—and I know this thing is going to be my bible for the next few weeks. It’s coming with me everywhere.
I’ve almost succeeding in forgetting my dream by the time I head downstairs. The door to Nick’s room is still closed, for which I’m grateful. I tell myself I’m not avoiding him—I’m just hoping to have a little time in the stable by myself, a chance to get my bearings, before he gets there. I don’t even bother stopping by the kitchen for coffee. Instead, I head right outside, making a beeline for the horses.
The stable is quiet, and the horses only stir slightly when they notice me. I do a quick walk up and down its length, peering into all the stalls, making mental observations about everything I see—what might need fixing or addressing, what might be rearranged, what we should probably buy. I can only answer some of those questions right now, with my limited knowledge, but at least it gives me a starting point. I scribble down what I notice in the back of the book.
I stop by the horses on the way back. Pomegranate doesn’t seem quite awake yet, but Prince pokes his head out of his stall, watching me. With a smile, I tuck my book under my arm and give him a good rub under the chin.
“Good morning,” I tell him cheerfully. “Ready to watch me make a complete fool of myself?”
He responds with a snort, sending horse snot shooting across my arm.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” I tell him, pulling my hand away and wiping it on my jeans. “That’s not very majestic, you know. You’re going to have to work on your manners if you ever want to meet a princess.”
He just blinks at me.
“We’ll work on your etiquette lessons later.” I turn and look down the row of stalls. Right now, it’s time to get to work.
Nicholas
Little do I want to admit it, but I sleep better in my new bed than I have since I arrived in Montana. Perhaps sleeping on the floor wasn’t the best idea I’ve had, but my aching back meant I was able to rise at dawn without an alarm. It’s well past dawn now—light is streaming into my room from my partially opened curtains.
I spring from my bed and quickly ready myself. Something about pulling on the new boots Clara made me purchase yesterday makes me feel almost as though I belong here.
Whether I belong here or not, one thing is certain. There is a lot of work to be done, particularly since we spent the better part of yesterday shopping.
I head down the hall to Clara’s room, meaning to wake her. But her door is open, and there is no sign of her anywhere.
It’s difficult to believe she would have begun her work without me. Not that I’ve much more experience, but she clearly has no idea what she’s doing. I at least have some experience around horses.
After finding she also isn’t in the kitchen—and didn’t prepare any breakfast, either—I make my way to the stables. I’m not even to the doorway before I hear her singing.
Singing?
Her lyrics include something about horses loving to be brushed, and I can’t help but roll my eyes as I make my way inside the stable.
Clara is standing on a stool, her back to me, brushing the gelding inside his stall.
I walk up behind her. “What are you doing?”
I must startle her—she jumps and the stool she’s standing on tilts out from under her, and I catch her in my arms before she hits the ground.
She looks up into my eyes as I cradle her for a moment, and my breath catches in my chest. In this light, her eyes are a much more clear blue than they were before.
Clara blinks a few times before wriggling from my grasp and standing. She brushes at her shirt and jeans, her cheeks flushing a deep shade of crimson. “Thanks. I—”
“You shouldn’t be standing on that.” I walk over to the other side of the stable and pull a step ladder from the wall, bringing it back over to her. “This is much more stable.”
“I didn’t see it.” She flashes a grin at me, her cheeks still red. “I…I knew they needed to be brushed this morning—”
“Generally speaking, you brush the animals after you ride them. After you take the saddle off.” I glance over at the saddles against the wall. “Did you ride them this morning?”
“I…no.” She chews at her bottom lip for a moment, and I’m not sure why, but the action makes my heart beat a little more quickly.
“You should saddle them. We can ride together.”
“Ride?” She looks up at me with wide eyes. “I…”
“You’ve never ridden, have you?” I shake my head. I suppose I should have known. She has no experience with actual animals—she’s admitted as much. But I really shouldn’t be teaching my ranch manager how to ride a horse.
“Have you?” She cocks her head, her stubborn determination returning. “You can’t really judge me for not knowing how to ride when you don’t know anything either.”
I let out a long breath. “I know how to ride a horse. I’ve been riding since I was a boy.”
“Great.” She places her hands on her hips, grinning at me. “Then you don’t need me for that. I’ll clean out the stalls while you ride.”
“No. We’ll ride together.” I motion toward the saddle for the larger horse. “And you’ll learn how to saddle them today, as well.”
She walks over to where I’m motioning and grabs the saddle and blanket, bringing them over to me. I walk her through the process, showing her step by step how to position and fasten everything.
“Now you.” I motion to the remaining saddle. “You’ll do it yourself now.”
Clara bites her bottom lip again, glancing between the smaller horse and me. “I’m not…I mean, I think…”
I want to ask her what
use she is to me as a ranch manager if she’s too afraid to ride a horse alone. But I refrain. “Fine. You’ll ride with me. But only for today.”
“Okay.” She grins at me. “Should you get on him first? I mean—”
“You’ll mount the animal first.” I motion to the larger horse. “You do know how to do that?”
“I…” She glances at the stirrup, and I suppose I should have known the answer to my question before I asked it.
I sigh, taking the horse by the rein as I lead him from his stall. Clara follows us outside, and I pull up the mounting block, motioning for her to step onto it. “It’s easiest to mount from the left. Put your foot in the stirrup and swing your leg over.”
She presses her lips together and marches up the steps, doing exactly as I say. She grins down at me as soon as she’s straddling the horse. “That wasn’t bad at all.”
I try not to roll my eyes as I join her atop the horse. It’s a tight fit in the saddle with the two of us there.
She wriggles against me, and I have to close my eyes for a moment as her ass rubs against my midsection. It’s nothing, I tell myself, even as I feel the blood rush to my cock. The scent of her fills my nose, some mixture of her floral shampoo and hay from the barn, I think. Whatever it is, the combination is intoxicating.
“Well? Are we going to go or what?” She turns to look up at me, and it takes every bit of my willpower not to lean down and kiss her.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I reach around her, one arm on either side of her, and take the reins. And I try with all my might to remind myself that I am not the least bit attracted to this woman.
Clara
I’m a little ashamed of how nervous I was, climbing up onto this horse. After all, I’ve spent my whole life dreaming about this. But it feels a lot higher than I expected. And I don’t like giving up control to an animal that could easily break my neck.