by Mia Ford
“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 gras
ping 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, let’s 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 entertain 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.
She walked in with a smile, but they still hadn’t noticed her. Conrad seemed to be riled up in what he was saying, talking animatedly but quietly to her grandfather, who was sitting silently and listening to the other man, not offering any words of his own.
Celia cleared her throat.
“There you are! Feeling more relaxed?” Conrad jumped out of his chair and rushed towards her. She had noticed the way his eyes glittered when he saw her. His gaze had dropped for a moment to her full breasts, before he looked away, pretending like he hadn’t just studied her body.
“Sit down, here, take this chair.” He was fussing around her as he pulled out a chair next to his. Celia thanked him, smiled and then sat down.
“Mr. Moore is cooking us dinner tonight.” Her grandfather said from across the table. Conrad sat down with a thump next to her, his expensive smelling cologne filling her nostrils. Celia sniffed.
“Who cooks dinner usually?” She asked, a little surprised because she hadn’t quite pictured Wilder as a big chef.
“It’s usually Wilder. In fact, it’s always Wilder. Only because he’s very particular and he doesn’t accept any of our help.” Conrad said, dragging Celia’s attention away from her grandfather.
“Don’t you have a housekeeper?” She asked him, just as Wilder entered the dining room with a tray of ham, his hands covered by thick oven mitts, and an apron tied around his waist. She nearly burst out laughing at the sight. This tall strong muscular man, with his cowboy hat still on his head carrying a tray of ham.
“We’ve had six housekeepers in the past ten years, ever since our mother passed away, and Wilder has managed to drive away all of them.” Conrad said, eyeing his brother with a flourish in his gaze. Wilder grunted in response, not acknowledging his brother’s look.
“It wasn’t Mr. Moore’s fault alone. They probably couldn’t deal with the demands of three bachelors in a big house.” Her grandfather cut in, but Conrad turned to him now.
“Please Jack, don’t sugar coat it for Celia. It was all entirely Wilder’s fault.” Conrad said with a victorious laugh. Celia was about to smile when Wilder banged the tray of ham loudly on the table as he placed it.
“That’s enough, Conrad.” Wilder growled, rage dripping from his voice. Celia’s breath choked in her throat and she didn’t dare look at him, she didn’t want to know what his face looked like right then.
“I’m not your wife, Wilder. I don’t have to listen to all your commands. I have equal share of this house and there is nothing you can do about it.” Conrad said, in an equally menacing voice to his brother.
“I said that’s enough. Behave with some dignity in front of our guests.” Wilder said through gritted teeth, standing over his younger brother. Celia stole a look in Wilder’s direction now and she saw his blue eyes narrowed, a vein thick and angry running down the center of his forehead. He looked powerful, wild and frightening. She looked away from him.
“They’re not our guests.” Conrad said with a light laugh. He reached for the tray of ham and started carving it for his share. “It’s just Jack and his granddaughter.”
Her grandfather cleared his throat.
“Have a seat Mr. Moore, we’re all hungry and the food smells delicious.” He said.
The food did smell good. The ham looked like it was glazed with a speci
al red homemade sauce, and bowls of mashed potatoes and steamed vegetables accompanied it, which Conrad helped himself with and started passing around the table. Wilder took a seat at the head of the table quietly and watched the food being served like a proud parent. Celia smiled to herself, this man was full of mystery, even though she was a little afraid of him. He made her shiver with anticipation, there were goosebumps on her skin.
“Eat your fill, Celia, although I hear that women in the big cities starve themselves to look good.” Conrad interrupted the silence.
Celia licked her lips and turned to look at him with a forced smile on her face. She was starting to dislike him more and more with every passing minute. There was just something unpleasant about him, despite his handsome smiling face and friendly demeanor.
“There’s no reason to stereotype us all.” She said, bringing the crystal glass of water to her lips.
“Why don’t you just leave her alone?” It was Wilder who had said that, and Celia whipped her head to look at him. This wasn’t something that she had expected him to say. Conrad broke into a loud laugh.
“Practice what you preach big brother.” He said, munching on his food.
“How are you feeling grandpa?” Celia spoke directly to him, ignoring the two quarreling brothers on either side of her.
Her grandfather looked tired, barely touching his food. He was drinking too much water and staring at his hands instead of concentrating on his dinner. He looked up at Celia and tried to smile when she spoke to him, but she could see it in his eyes that he was ready for bed, his illness had already got the better of him.
“Just tired, dear girl. I’ll be better in the morning.” He said, and Celia nodded her head.
“Of course. I’ll tuck you in whenever you want to go.” She said, holding her grandfather’s gaze.
