Welcome to Paradise

by Rosalind James

  “Rachel,” he said when they were standing before him. “As the only woman left on Arcadia, you’re obviously nominated. But to make this fair, we’re going to let you select your opponent. Mira or Zara. Your choice.”

  Mira thought fast. Quickly schooled her face into a worried frown that was all too easy an expression to assume as Rachel looked sharply at her, then shifted her gaze to Zara.

  Don’t pick me, Mira attempted with all her might to project. She didn’t dare look to see Zara’s expression, but she was willing to bet it appeared less anxious than her own, even though Mira was the better milker. Zara hadn’t done it since their one lesson with Alma, but somehow, she always appeared confident anyway.

  Mira saw Rachel’s face firm with decision, but wasn’t sure she’d convinced her until she heard the words.

  “Mira,” Rachel announced. “I’m going up against Mira.”

  Mira bit her lip, looked across at the cows uncertainly as they were led into place, tied to stakes driven into the ground in front of the spectators’ area. If she could lull Rachel into complacency, so much the better. In fact, it wasn’t too hard to act concerned. She’d only been milking the past few days. What if Rachel had been doing it all along? Maybe she, like Kevin, had an affinity for animals.

  Stop it, she commanded herself. She could only do what she could do. And right now, that meant milking a cow just as fast as she could.

  “We’ve got two Guernseys for you here,” Cliff announced as Zara returned to the bench, leaving Mira and Rachel to approach the big brown animals. “Same breed you’re used to, and we’ve selected them specifically to match, to make this fair. They each give about the same amount of milk, and give it equally easily. Piece of cake, right?” he asked with a smile to which Mira responded with a nervous laugh that she didn’t have to fake.

  “Mira,” he went on, “Since Rachel got the pick of opponents, you get the pick of cows. Which one do you want to milk?”

  “This one,” Mira decided. She went to the cow on the right, who had turned to look at her with what Mira chose to think was a kindly eye, and laid a hand on her flank. “This is my cow.”

  “All right, then.” Cliff nodded at the milking stool and pail already set next to the cows. “The winner is the one with the most milk at the end of twenty minutes. Simple.” He waited until they were both seated on their stools, with their buckets positioned under the udders. “And challenge is . . . on!”

  Mira shut all thought of Rachel out of her head. Put her head against the big, warm flank and tried to send calm and certainty into the hands that grasped the rubbery teats. To her relief, the cow was docile and good-natured, and let down her milk as easily as Gabe had joked about Bessie doing.

  On and on she went, her fingers squeezing steadily, the milk squirting into the bucket. She focused on the rhythm, felt her hands tiring, and refused to slow down. When her mind began to spiral down into fear, the pain in her hands threatened to distract her, she began to sing in her head. The very first song they’d sung together, that first night. “Michael, Row the Boat Ashore.” She finished the last verse she remembered, started at the beginning again, milked to the rhythm, the upbeat tune reverberating in her head, mingling with the sound of the milk hitting the bucket.

  She was fully engrossed, lost in a trance of milking and singing, when she heard Cliff shout, “Time!” Came back to herself, let go of the teats, and sat back as Jay removed the bucket.

  As she turned around on her stool and got to her feet, she found that her legs were trembling, her hands shaking now that the ordeal was over. She wrapped her arms around herself and watched Jay carry her bucket to a table where two large jars were set ready, volume measures clearly marked on their sides. Tried to see inside Rachel’s bucket, but couldn’t tell how much it held.

  She’d done her best, she repeated to herself. She’d kept it together, and she’d done her best.

  “We’ll measure Rachel’s milk first,” Cliff announced. “And she got . . . just over six quarts. Six and an eighth quarts, to be exact.” He paused for the congratulations of the Arcadia homestead.

  “And now, Mira’s bucket.” He paused portentously.

  Just measure it, Mira thought desperately. Tried to think how full her bucket had seemed, how that would have translated into quarts, and for once in her life, couldn’t do the math.

  All too slowly, Cliff poured her bucket into the big jar. Paused dramatically before announcing, “Seven and seven-eighths quarts! Paradise wins the women’s challenge, and Paradise wins again!”

  Her teammates crowded around her as she laughed in exultant relief. There was Stanley, giving her an exuberant hug, telling her how proud he was of her.

  “Mira,” Kevin was saying sternly now, standing back with his hands on her shoulders. “Did you just play my sister?”

  “When you pasted that anxious look on your face, I about died,” Zara said. “‘Oh please, B’rer Fox, don’t throw me into that briar patch!’” She began to laugh. “Who knew you had it in you?”

  Mira laughed back at her, although she still felt shaky from effort and emotion. “I wasn’t sure it would work. But it did! She bought it!”

  Gabe shook his head ruefully, gathered her into his arms and gave her a squeeze of his own. “I’ve thought from the beginning that there was a lot more to you than met the eye. Remind me not to go up against you. I’m beginning to think I’ve met my match out here.”

  “I think you may have done just that,” Stanley agreed with a smile. “And that our Miss Mira has some real hidden depths.”

  Despite their exuberance at the moment of victory, it was a sober group that walked home again after the challenge. Mira knew that everybody else’s mind was turning over the same question she was. Who were they going to vote out next? If last week’s decision had been hard, this was agonizing.

  “When do you think they’ll put us together?” she finally turned to ask Kevin, walking behind her and Gabe. She dropped back to talk to him.

  “After this next vote, I’d think,” Kevin said. “When there are eight of us. Which means,” he went on, his normal cheeky humor resurfacing, “if you make it through till tomorrow, you and Scott should be safe.”

  “Because everybody wants to go to the end with us,” Mira agreed. “And nobody has to worry that we’ll win Safety. And meanwhile, if he’s too awful, we can get the boot anytime. Because when you think about it . . . nobody’s going to want to give Scott a hundred thousand dollars. That might even outweigh the certainty of winning the million, for some people. Not for you, obviously,” she said with a laugh.

  “Hey,” he grinned, “I came on here to be strategic. I came on to win. And I haven’t had to live with Boyfriend all this time. I could put up with him for a few weeks. For a million dollars? You bet I could.”

  “Yeah, but can Rachel?” she pointed out. “And stop calling him Boyfriend. He’s not my boyfriend anymore, remember?”

  “That’s the question,” Kevin agreed. “If Rachel can. And I really doubt she and I are going to be winning any Safety challenges. Have to get through on our looks and charm. Gabe and Alec, now . . .”

  “My ears are burning,” he said, turning around ahead of them. “What about me?”

  “We’re talking about the Safety challenges, once they put the two teams together,” Kevin said boldly. “And who’s likely to win them.”

  “What’s that I feel on my back all of a sudden?” Gabe asked, twisting around to check himself out. “Oh, yeah. A target.”

  “If I’d had any sense,” Kevin sighed, “I should’ve made sure we lost that challenge today. I’m sure Zara’s had the same thought, not that Mira gave her a chance. Because then we’d both have had another guaranteed week out here. But I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t stand to lose to Boy— to Scott. Testosterone poisoning claims another victim.”

  “But as it is,” he said, looking behind him, where Stanley was bringing up the rear with Zara, “you’ve got Stanley and M
ira, Gabe, and Mira’s got the two of you. Which means that it’s one of two people tomorrow. And that I’m one of them.”

  Getting Ruthless

  “Hey,” Gabe said quietly after their music session that evening, shorter than usual after the difficult day. “Want to take a walk?”

  “Sure.” Mira got up with him, exchanged a quick look with Zara, and set off on the path toward the mountains. The last bars of late afternoon sunlight fell on the fields of grass, turned golden now by the August heat. They’d have a few extra minutes together tonight, before it got dark. A few minutes to be alone, or as alone as they ever were.

  Gabe waited until they’d entered the forest of white pine before speaking. “I wanted to talk to you about the vote. At least,” he smiled down at her, “that’s one reason I brought you out here. Let’s get the hard part over with first, though.”

  “OK,” she said resignedly. “Zara and I talked about Kevin already, while we were making dinner. Is that what you’re thinking too?”

  “No,” he said bluntly. “The guys and I . . . we’re thinking Zara.”

  “Oh.” She swallowed. “Oh.”

  “Because with three of us guys,” he went on, “and without Hank there as a possibility, it’ll definitely be Scott, plus the other two, of course, against us in the challenges. And those are some pretty good odds.”

  “That’s a valid point,” Mira conceded.

  “Because otherwise, you know,” Gabe continued, “if Arcadia wins next time . . .”

  “Yeah,” she agreed. “If they win, Scott and I leave. I know that. And Zara makes sense anyway. Because if the two of them, Hank and Zara, make it to the final . . . they’re both too popular. I can see that.”

  “You can?” he asked in surprise.

  “Of course I can.” She looked at him with a bit of exasperation. “I love Zara. But I do get that it’s a game, you know.”

  “I know you do. But you still surprise me, all the time,” he admitted. “OK. Zara. Do you want to tell her it’s Kevin, or would you rather I did it?”

  “I will,” Mira decided. “That’ll work much better. I went for a walk with you, we talked about it, and we agreed on Kevin. But I do hate this part. I hate to lie.”

  “It’s no fun,” he agreed. “Especially lying to somebody you’re as close to as Zara. And I know it’ll mean more work for you, even assuming they put the homesteads together right away. Six men and only two women. That’ll be a lot to do, but we’ll help. You’ll have to tell us what to do, but we’ll take turns in the garden, with the cooking, the laundry, everything. We already discussed it.”

  “OK,” she sighed. “It’s a plan. It’s just that everyone is a friend now, aren’t they? I wish there were still somebody here I didn’t like so much.”

  “You’re such a soft touch,” Gabe said with a smile. “Tell me, when you thought about coming on the show, did you think about this part?”

  “Of course I did. But I wasn’t expecting to get so close to everybody. And if you think I’m not capable of thinking strategically,” she went on boldly, “well, you can think again. Because I know exactly what I’d do if I thought I had a snowball’s chance of winning. And if I cared about winning.”

  “And what’s that?” he asked, still smiling.

  “Talk to Zara and Kevin about voting you off, of course,” she answered promptly. “Because you’re the biggest threat out here by far,” she went on at his bark of surprised laughter. “And you know Kevin would do it. Stanley wouldn’t, but Kevin? In a heartbeat. He’ll try to do it at the end, if he gets that far. There’s no way he wants to go up against you in the final vote.”

  “Who knew you were so ruthless?” he said wonderingly. “All soft and innocent on the outside, all those cuddly curves, those freckles on your nose. Why didn’t I realize that was just a front? Guess I’d better be more careful. You could just be softening me up for your sneak attack.”

  “I could,” she said with a toss of her head. “You just watch yourself.”

  “You’re getting pretty sassy, aren’t you?” he asked. He stopped walking on the forested path, turned her towards him and laced the fingers of both hands through hers. “And you know what happens to girls like that.”

  “No, what?” She smiled up at him happily.

  He backed her up against one of the big pines, lifted her hands above her head. Turned his own so they were the ones resting against the rough bark, while keeping a tight grip on her. “They get in trouble,” he promised.

  “Mmm. What kind of trouble?” she asked innocently, opening her eyes wide at him. She’d never teased and played like this before. And wasn’t it just the most fun ever.

  “The kind of trouble I’m going to be showing you all about, just as soon as we’re out of here,” he assured her. He moved even closer, pressing her against the pine, then lowered his mouth to hers.

  She welcomed the pressure of his hard body, the invasion of his mouth. His lips left hers, moved to her cheek, then down to her neck. He kissed her there, moved his teeth over her, biting gently, and she arched up into him, moving her head to the side and moaning aloud at the almost unbearable sensation, feeling her nipples hardening inside the constriction of the corset.

  “You like that, huh?” he murmured against her skin, before he began again, biting a little harder, moving around under her ear and making her gasp even more. Each delicious movement of his mouth seemed to go straight to her center, and she squirmed against him, trying to get closer, thrilling at the feel of his erection through the layers of clothes, wishing she weren’t wearing the corset, that she could feel even more of him.

  “OK,” he breathed, letting go of her hands at last and taking a reluctant step back. “OK. I should know better than to start something with you. You make it so hard to stop.”

  She stayed where she was, pressed against the tree, her hands above her head. “You don’t have to stop,” she said, looking up at him. “We could tell Stu to leave us alone. Or . . . sneak off.”

  He shook his head. “We do that, that’s exactly when he’s going to follow us. One of them’s got us in some kind of long shot right now, and you know it.” He reached a hand out to grab her around the waist, pulled her towards him. “But if you stand there like that, you’re going to end up starring in Mira Does Montana. Because you’re killing me here.”

  She felt ridiculously happy at the thought that she could affect him that much, that she was actually testing his self-control. At least, the part of her that wasn’t hopelessly frustrated was happy.

  “We wouldn’t have to show much,” she said slyly, as he began to pull her by the hand down the path again. “Maybe you haven’t noticed our underwear’s . . . unique feature.”

  “What?” He looked down at her, startled.

  “It’s crotchless,” she said, amazed at her own boldness. But she had a feeling that was a piece of information he’d enjoy having.

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope. Just a . . . slit. What do you think about that? I could be up against that tree and . . .”

  “Help,” he said ruefully. “I’ve created a monster. You realize you’ve just added another fifteen wakeful minutes to my nightly frustration.”

  “Really?” she asked, inordinately pleased. So she wasn’t the only one.

  “Oh, yeah,” he assured her. “Lying awake, thinking about you? Imagining how it’s going to be? You’d better believe it.”

  Regrets and Plans

  The vote had been just as hard as she’d feared, Mira thought the next afternoon as she walked back to Paradise, her hand in Gabe’s as always, Danny riding backwards on the ATV ahead of them to film.

  Zara had only smiled sadly, though, when the votes were read. “I did wonder,” she’d said. “Well played,” she’d murmured as she gave Mira a hug goodbye. “See you soon. Love you.”

  Mira herself had teared up, of course, watching her walk off with Hank and the others: Chelsea and Melody, Lupe and Maria-Elena,
Arlene and Martin, still on crutches, toward whatever waited on the other side of the trees. It had been the right decision, but life was going to be a lot lonelier without Zara.

  “I couldn’t believe it,” Kevin said now, interrupting her thoughts. “I was sure we were going to merge. They’ve always merged at eight. When Cliff told us to go on back, I was, like, what? But it has to happen soon. The only question is, before or after the next challenge? Will the next one be homestead against homestead, or a Safety challenge with our original partners?”

  “No telling,” Stanley said philosophically. “We just go on the way we are, wait and see. Don’t borrow trouble.”

  “It matters, though,” Kevin argued. “Strategically.”

  “Why?” Mira asked. Kevin looked at her, startled, as she went on. “I mean, of course there’s a difference in the outcome, but there’s not much you’d be able to do as far as planning for it, even if you knew which way it would go.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Kevin asked dubiously. “Instruct me.”

  “Say we do merge on Saturday,” she began. “That would make it a Safety challenge. Then it all depends on who wins Safety. If you and Rachel win . . . then it’s tough. Then it’s Alec and Gabe going home, or Stanley and Calvin, depending on who Rachel’s tight with, who she can sway. And there’s nothing you can do about that now. You can try pitting Stanley and Gabe against each other this week, but that’d probably just antagonize both of them, and you’d be worse off than you were before.”

  “And if Alec and Gabe win it,” she mused as Kevin looked at Gabe in astonishment and Gabe grinned back at him, “then you and Rachel go. Because you’re a much bigger threat than Scott and me, obviously. Again, nothing you can do about that now. And if Stanley and Calvin win it, it’s also you and Rachel, for the same reason,” she finished.

  “So unless Rachel and I win, I’m screwed,” Kevin said gloomily. “OK, Smartypants, what if you and Scott win?”