by Mia Ford
“Yes.” She replied, in a meek voice. She had obviously expected a stranger to pick her up, but not such a handsome one. This man was a cowboy through and through, the likes of which she had only ever seen in films or on TV. She hadn’t thought that people like him actually existed in real life.
He was in a dark plaid shirt, with the sleeves rolled up. His jeans were dark too, with a wide boot cut at the bottoms. For shoes he had ruddy dusty boots and a cowboy hat to shield his face against the sun. But the sun had definitely got to him, because his skin was darkened, and it glowed like bronze in the midday heat. His eyes were piercingly blue, and Celia dropped her gaze from his face when he looked at her, because his eyes nearly frightened her. He looked muscular and lean, like he worked outdoors all day. As hard as she tried to stop herself, she couldn’t help her mind from wandering and imagining what his bare torso would look like, underneath those clothes.
“Do you have bags?” The man asked and she nodded her head.
“They’re right here.” She said and pointed to her feet.
He walked around the front of the truck silently, taking quick long steps and was by her side within seconds. She felt her muscles freeze from his closeness. She couldn’t remember the last time her body had reacted this way to the physical presence of someone else. Without a word he picked up both the suitcases and tossed them into the open back of the van.
Celia winced when she heard the thump of the bags as they fell. She didn’t want to imagine what the state of her perfume bottles and makeup cases were going to be inside them.
“Get in.” She heard him say, and he walked back around to the driver’s side without waiting for a response from her. Celia gulped. How was she supposed to get in?
She tried pulling at the passenger door, but it wouldn’t give. The man had already climbed back into his seat. He had his hands loosely placed on the steering wheel and was watching Celia struggling to get the door open. It was like he was enjoying her trying and failing and then trying again.
She yanked and pulled, but the door wouldn’t budge; and the man wasn’t helping. She turned a sour face to him through the windshield, her lips quivering as she glared at him. What was wrong with him? She thought, but didn’t say anything. After she had glared at him for a good few moments, he leaned over and pushed the door open from his side. It slid open as smoothly as a knife through warm butter.
Celia tried to haul herself up into the seat, as best she could. She wasn’t dressed for the occasion, she realized as she did this. Her pencil skirt clung tightly to her thighs as she tried to wriggle into the seat, her cheeks flushed and her neck burning red from embarrassment.
He was following her every movement with keen watchful eyes, and when she turned to look at him, she realized that she hadn’t once seen him smile yet.
“Thank you.” Celia said, as politely as she could, even though she didn’t exactly want to be polite to him, when he had been nothing other than rude to her.
The man said nothing, but simply started the engine and the truck roared and came to life.
Despite the fact that she was a little offended by this man’s coldness, she still couldn’t stop herself from admiring him. She couldn’t help but imagine what a big hit this man might be in the fashion industry; with his muscular physique and sharp jaw lines, he would look good in anything, and especially delicious in nothing.
“So, you know my grandfather?” She said, trying to make conversation. He had been driving in silence for a few moments now and she was beginning to grow uncomfortable in his presence. She didn’t want to simply stare at him the whole way.
“Yes.” He replied, keeping his eyes on the road. Celia realized that he had barely even looked at her. The hat remained on his head as he drove, and she noticed the clenching of the muscles on his long arms as he clutched the steering wheel.
“I’ve never been to Texas before. I grew up in Chicago and recently moved to New York.” She continued, looking over at him, hoping for a reaction, for something.
“I can see that.” He said in the same heavy emotionless voice he used to say everything else. Celia blushed again.
“I’m sure I’ll get used to this, won’t I?” She added with a smile, but he wasn’t looking at her to notice that she was trying her best to be friendly, to please him.
“No, you won’t.” He said, keeping his eyes on the road. Celia’s brows crossed. How dare he form opinions of her when he hadn’t even looked at her properly, when he barely knew her or anything about her life. She turned her face away from him, trying to control her displeasure as best as she could.
Everywhere she looked, it was dusty and covered in sand. The trees were sparse and they had crossed very few houses. She couldn’t even imagine this much open space in the cities. It was unheard of. The warm sandy air lashed against her face when she turned her face to the windows. She shielded her eyes against it and allowed the harsh rays of the sun to warm her face some more. She’d show him. She’d show this man, what she was really made of.
“What is your name?” She asked him, turning to him again.
“Wilder.” He replied, without skipping a beat. Just when she was least expecting it, he turned to look at her. Their eyes met. His blue eyes looking straight into hers, deep into her soul, studying her face. He held her gaze for several seconds before he looked away and Celia licked her lips nervously. She wanted him. As much as she wanted to dislike this man, she couldn’t help but acknowledge the fact that she wanted him. She wanted his rough hands on her skin, his blue eyes to look into her face, his shoulders to engulf her tightly…
“Why are you here?” He asked, interrupting her fantasies about him. Celia braved a look in his direction, although she was aware that her cheeks had turned red again. It was almost like he had caught her fantasizing about him, like he knew what she was thinking.
“My grandfather.” She said, fumbling with her words a little. “He needs me. He’s sick.”
Wilder looked away from her, and back to the road again.
“Why now? I don’t remember you ever visiting him before.” He said.
Celia’s brows crossed again. This man was relentless! He was passing one judgment after the other, with no reason. What on Earth did he have against her?
“Because my parents never brought me here. Then I was busy with college and finding a job and…” The words came tumbling out of her, even though she knew that she owed this man no explanation whatsoever.
“We’re here.” He said, cutting her off. He stopped the truck just as suddenly as he had started driving it. Celia’s body yanked against the seatbelt with a sudden pull from the motion of the truck. She nearly screamed from the fright. She decided right then that she wasn’t ever going to get into a car with this rude unkempt cowboy ever again. She couldn’t wait to get out.
She hadn’t noticed where they had stopped till right now. Till she pushed hard against the passenger door to get it open. They were parked at the gate of what could only have been an enormous ranch.
Wilder wasn’t helping her to get the door open. She struggled against it, panting now from the exertion and the anger she was feeling towards him.
“How do you know my grandfather?” She asked, whipping around in her seat to look at him. Grateful that the journey was over and if luck would have it, she would never have to see this man ever again.
“He works for me.” He said, with the first smirk forming on the side of his mouth, a smile that Celia knew could only mean disaster for her. “Welcome to my home.”
Celia followed Wilder in silence, looking around her in awe. He was carrying both her bags with ease in front of her. None of this was making any sense. Why had he brought her to his home? Why did he drive an old rusty truck when he lived on a ranch like this?
It was enormous, with a mansion that stood in the center of it, and even though Celia couldn’t see them, she could hear the cattle and the horses in the distance. This ranch had to be worth billions. And this man, Wilder, did not
look or dress like a billionaire.
They had reached the front steps of the mansion and Wilder lifted the suitcases as he led her into the house. He pushed the screen door open with his foot and then held it open, indicating to her to walk in. Celia did as she was told, entering the mansion with thoughtful steps. She didn’t know what to expect any more.
The inside of the house looked impeccably decorated. It was big, open and airy and had beautiful lace curtains on the windows, bottle green carpeted floors and expensive looking art hanging from the walls. Wilder had followed her in, placing her bags by the front door where he stood.
“Celia?” She heard her grandfather’s voice from somewhere inside the house. Then she saw him, on a wheelchair, sliding into the foyer from one of the rooms near the foot of the long winding staircase. When he came towards her, she didn’t initially recognize him, he looked so different. He was much more frail than she remembered, all his hair had turned white and his eyes looked watery and weak.
“Grandpa!” She cried out and rushed towards him, falling to her knees in front of him. He used to visit her family home in Chicago once a year, every year for the first sixteen years of her life. She had a strong connection with him, waiting for him to visit month after month as a child. He used to take her camping, had taught her to fish and told her made-up stories every night when he tucked her into bed. In the past three years she hadn’t had a chance to see him. Ever since her own parents passed away in a car accident, and his health started failing, he couldn’t visit her. Then she was caught up with college…and now this.
“Oh grandpa, how are you?” She said, resting her tired head on his warm frail knees. He stroked her hair lovingly, his voice had become thin and weak as well.
“I’m as well as I can be, my darling girl. I’m so happy to see you.” She heard him say. When she looked up at him, he was smiling at her and then he clutched her chin in his hands, just like he used to when she was a child.
“I couldn’t stay away grandpa, I’m here now.” Celia said, her eyes watering as she looked at the old man. The old man from her childhood who used to be so full of energy and kindness and a sense of adventure. She couldn’t believe he was in a wheelchair now.
“Yes you are, you’re finally here.” He said, still smiling at her. All the doubts that Celia had, all the anger she was feeling towards Wilder; had gone. She could see how happy her presence had made her grandfather, and she knew instantly that she had made the right decision.
“But what about your job in New York? Are you sure you can stay here for very long?” He asked her and Celia shook her head.
“Don’t worry about it grandpa, I’ll be fine. That job wasn’t important.” She smiled at him and patted his knees as she straightened herself up.
“I see you’ve met Mr. Moore.” He said then, looking past her and admiringly at Wilder who was still at the door. Celia turned to look at him, caught the grim look on his face and then turned to her grandfather again.
“Yes, he very kindly gave me a lift from the train station. I’m sorry grandpa that I haven’t been in touch, I didn’t know you worked here.” Celia spoke to her grandfather softly again. He still had the same kindly smile on his face.
“I’ve worked here at the ranch for fifty years my child. Ever since I was a young boy and Mr. Moore’s father ran the place.” He said, taking Celia’s hands in his. She noticed how bony and cold his hands were, and a chill ran down her spine. How much longer did he have to live? She didn’t want to think about it.
“I see. It’s a lovely place.” She said, without turning to look at Wilder.
“Mr Moore has offered to put you up in a room beside mine so we can be close to each other. I’ve lived in that room ever since your father moved out of our house.” He continued, patting Celia’s hands now.
“That is very generous of him.” She said, turning to Wilder finally. He was standing with his arms crossed over his chest and his legs parted wide. He was watching them closely, studying her like he was doing previously. She couldn’t imagine what he might be thinking. All of this was too much to take in.
“Ah, is that your granddaughter, Jack?” A different male voice appeared at the top of the stairs. Celia craned her neck to look up and found a young man walking down quickly.
“Yes it is, Sir.” Her grandfather said, turning his wheelchair to face the stairs now. Celia stood next to him, with her hands held tightly together. She hadn’t heard anyone else in the house till now.
The man bounced down the stairs with a skip in his step. He looked young, in his early twenties, probably the same age as her. His hair was dark and neatly swept aside, like he had spent some time trying to get the style right. His eyes were the same blue as Wilder’s, but just not as deep or intense. He was shorter than Wilder too, and thinner. He had a handsome face, probably a little too handsome in the classic sense. Although, Celia knew instantly that they were brothers.
His face was clean shaven, while Wilder’s jaw was bristly with the shadow of a beard. This man’s hands and feet weren’t as large and he just had a more friendly demeanor. Celia smiled earnestly at him when he approached her with a hand stretched in her direction.
“I’m Conrad Moore, Wilder’s younger brother. You must be Celia.” He said, grabbing her hand and giving it a light shake. Celia nodded her head.
“Pleasure.” She said, as airily as possible. She wanted to demonstrate to Wilder just how pleasing and friendly she could be.
“You’re from New York? I’ve been there a couple of times. What a great city.” Conrad said, still grasping Celia’s hand in his.
She smiled at him and then turned to look at Wilder.
“Something tells me you didn’t take your brother along there.” She said and Conrad laughed loudly at that, a pleasant variation from Wilder’s reactions to whatever she said.
“Don’t think my brother’s ever been out of town. Ever been on a plane.” Conrad quipped and Celia dragged her hand away from him, a smile still lingering on her face. He had managed to make her feel instantly at home, as compared to Wilder who had made her feel unwelcome from the moment he saw her.
“I’ll take your bags to your room.” Wilder cut in and they all turned to him.
“Thank you.” She said to him, catching the look in his eyes as he turned his face away. As usual, he looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here, like he couldn’t stand the presence of human beings around him.
He walked past her and towards the back of the foyer where he turned to look at them again.
“And Celia, please expect to perform some duties around the house if you’re living here.” He said in a harsh blank voice before turning and walking away with the suitcases.
Celia could feel her heart thumping fast. She felt embarrassed and offended. Why would he assume that she expected free boarding from them? She had all intention to pay for her stay, or help them in any way she could. He hadn’t even asked her.
“Don’t mind Wilder, Celia. He can come across as a bit of a brooding bitter man, just ignore him and you’ll be fine.” Conrad said, and when she looked at him he was smiling at her.
“We’re all glad that you could come down here, I know Jack’s been wanting to see you for very long.” He said and placed a hand on her waist. Celia felt her muscles tense up and she stepped away from him nervously. This man was the complete opposite of his brother, he was probably a little too friendly.
“Of course. I’ll just freshen up a little and see you all in a bit.” Celia said nervously, aware that her cheeks were red again.
“Take your time. Want a game of chess Jack? While we wait for your granddaughter?” Conrad said, turning to her grandfather. Celia looked at them both, her grandfather looked tired and exhausted but he nodded his head nonetheless.
“Sure, lets go.” He said with a smile at Conrad.
Celia wanted to say something, wanted to offer her grandfather a relaxing bath or a quick nap instead of going out of his way to entertai
n Conrad, but she remained quiet. It wasn’t her place. She didn’t know these people and she wasn’t sure what her grandfather wanted to do really. Instead she turned on her heels and walked in the direction that Wilder had gone.
Despite the house being large, she found her room easily. Wilder had left her suitcases next to the open door of a bedroom with pastel pink walls. She dragged the bags in and closed the door behind her. The room was tastefully decorated. Fresh flowers had been placed in a crystal vase on the window sill and a full length mirror greeted her by the en-suite bathroom door.
Celia stared at herself in the mirror, before beginning to undress. She needed to take a shower, her strawberry blonde curls were in a tangled mess. Her brown eyes looked large with exhaustion. Her cheeks looked bright red, to match the color of her lips. It was as a result of the harsh sun, she was tanning quickly.
She slipped out of her blouse and her pencil skirt and rummaged through her suitcase for something more appropriate to wear. This wasn’t New York, this wasn’t her fashion conscious office, this was a small town ranch in Texas. She needed to dress accordingly. But she didn’t really own anything for the occasion. A thin cotton tunic dress would have to do, she thought and she laid it on the fluffy looking bed, before walking into the bathroom.
She turned the shower on and the mirror fogged up. Celia slid her hand across it to look at her face again. What had she gotten herself into? She was so far away from home, from where she was comfortable. Here she was surrounded by strangers. By a man who made her gut turn from how utterly handsome he was, but who also made her boil with rage by the things he said to her. And then there was his brother who was friendly and nice, but had something not quite right about him that Celia hadn’t yet figured out.
Either way, this was not the kind of adventure she had planned on having. If only she had paid attention to her grandfather’s life, and then she could have come prepared.
By the time Celia had showered, changed into the more appropriate dress and dried her hair, it was nearly dusk. She stepped out of the bedroom to be greeted by a strong whiff of ham being baked in the oven. She followed the scent to the dining room, where she found Conrad and her grandfather sitting at a long table, deep in hushed conversation.