Chapter 12

“Samuel, I don’t know why you are calling me. You and I have nothing to say to one another.”

Claire couldn’t believe that he had the audacity to contact her after all this time, after what he had done. It was like sitting in salt water only to feel the sting in a wound that had been forgotten, but is not quite healed. The last person she had expected to hear on the other end when she answered her cell phone had been him.

“Claire, please just listen to me…”

His voice sounded urgent and she was tempted to hear what he had to say. The memory of how we had left things wouldn’t allow her to give him even that. Claire wasn’t falling for any sympathy ploys from him.

“No. I stopped listening to you the moment I walked into your apartment and found you balls deep in your bimbo neighbor. Don’t call me anymore.”

Claire ended the call on her cell and then blocked his number so he couldn’t call again. Her heart was pounding from just the sound of his voice. She had loved him and he had betrayed her. It was something she would let him do twice. The phone rang again. A different number. Was he calling from another phone?

“Hello?” Claire wondered if her voice sounded as annoyed as she felt right now.

“Miss Ronson? This is your driver. I’m downstairs. Do you need assistance with your luggage?”

“No, no. I’ll be right down.”

Claire looked around the apartment one last time and tried to shake the phone call from Samuel. No way was she going to let it hang over her like a dark cloud while she was away. She fully intended to wow the new client with an ad campaign he could be proud of and she needed her wits about her to impress someone like him.

“Miss Ronson?”

It was the driver again as she stepped out the front doors of the apartment building with her bags.

“Yes.”

Claire eyed the sleek Mercedes sitting at the curb. Harper was certainly not lacking in class. He had sent only the best to transport her the two hours or so it would take to get to the farm in upstate New York.

“Steve Burkett. I’ll be driving you today.”

Claire accepted the man’s hand that was offered, shaking it briefly as he stepped back to open the door for her to enter the vehicle.

“I’ll put your bags in the trunk,” he told her.

“Thank you.”

Claire slipped into the rear door and onto the cool black leather seats. She had not come from money, so this was an extravagance to her. Her father was a master plumber and her mother was a history teacher. They were average middle-class parents who did okay for themselves where they still lived in Tennessee. No one in her home town owned a car like this, much less could afford having a driver chauffeur them for several hours to another town in one.

The ride to Poughkeepsie was peaceful enough with the tranquil music being piped in from the front of the car. Her thoughts ran the gamut from wondering why Samuel had called her out of the blue to what she should expect when she arrived at Taylor’s ranch. Looking at her phone, she could see where the auto block had kicked several more calls from Samuel to the curb. She was feeling very anxious By the time the car arrived at its destination, her hands all but shook and she felt ill.

“Miss Ronson?”

Claire was pretty sure her last name had not been used this formally, this much, in a long time. More likely, it had never been used so much at all.

“Yes, I’m Claire Ronson.”

Claire looked the woman speaking up and down. If there was a model for the stereotypical farmer’s daughter, this girl was it. Her blonde hair was separated into two braids and she wore a cowboy hat on top of her head. Her skin-tight jeans were tucked into a pair of well-worn cowboy boots and the buttons that ran up her denim shirt seemed hard pressed to hold in the contents of her ample chest. She had to wonder what exactly this woman did for Taylor on the ranch.

“Hi, I’m Alexandria Turner, Taylor’s sister. He asked me to fetch you if he and Mr. Tanger were still at the barn when you arrived. Let’s get you settled into the guest house.”

“Oh, great. Thank you.”

Claire felt embarrassed about her previous assumptions as Alexandria helped her with her bags and led the way toward a small rustic looking cabin that sat to one side of the immense house. It was hard not to be taken in by the large white columns and balconies of the massive home designed in a plantation style more often found in the south than a New York ranch.

“I’ll let you get settled in,” Alexandria said, after showing her where everything was in the guest house and departing.

Claire made quick work of it and stepped out onto the small patio out back. The view was breathtaking. Everything was all green and there was a faint smell of roses in the air. Looking to one side, she saw the trailing roses that climbed up one side of the cabin. She had seen them elsewhere as she had followed Alexandria in.

“Well, hello there, Claire. Don’t you look lovely in your boots and jeans? Did you get those at Niemen Marcus?” she heard a voice say from behind her and turned to find herself greeted by the gorgeous smile of Taylor Turner.

He was quite a sight in his faded jeans, boots and work shirt that read “Tea Rose Ranch.” Claire had thought it an odd name for a ranch until she had arrived, met Alexandria and seen the beautiful tea roses that seemed to grow everywhere. It was now her guess that the sister named the ranch.

“No, I’ve had them for a while,” she replied. “I’m not exactly a Niemen Marcus sort of girl. I am from Tennessee, after all.”

“I see. Well, I thought we could start with a tour of the ranch and then grab some lunch in town. Your associate will be here in a moment. He seems to have stepped in something he found unpleasant. Do you like sushi?”

“Yes.” Claire found herself laughing a little at the thought of Harper having accidentally planted one of his expensive Italian loafers in a pile of cow manure. It was all she managed to say, caught off guard a bit at the suggestion of going out for sushi. It was hardly the sort of meal she would have thought would appeal to someone like Taylor.

“All right, let’s get going then,” Harper interjected from a nearby doorway. Claire skirted past him, her stomach aflutter again just from being near him. He reached for her hand and stopped her, sending a familiar jolt of excitement down her spine. His fingers brushed the collar of her shirt as he leaned in toward her, a soft smile on his face, reaching behind her neck.

He was going to kiss her again. Oh, God! she couldn’t move. It was a bad idea. Claire knew it, but now that she was here, she didn’t know if she could resist the temptation. She heard a soft pop and he pulled away.

“You forgot to take the tag from your old shirt,” he whispered as he handed it to her with a familiar smirk.

Her anticipation of the kiss was quickly replaced by the hot flush that spread up her face. How could she have forgotten something as simple as removing the tags?

“Th-thanks.” It was all she could manage. Thankfully, he didn’t plan on prolonging her embarrassment, instead letting Taylor know he was ready to get going.

“All right, let’s get this tour started. We’ll start with the house and living quarters for guests. They are cleaner than the barn…won’t get your new boots as dirty,” Taylor said from nearby.

Were the two of them planning to take turns teasing her the entire time she was here? Claire wrinkled her nose at them playfully and followed along toward the long structure that sat on the other side of the guest cottage.

“So, you just have the two guest cottages?” It seemed odd that they would have a bunkhouse for most guests, but not improved accommodations for a premium price.

“Yes, the people that come here want an authentic ranch experience. That involves staying in a large bunkhouse to build camaraderie with their fellow visitors. They do everything as a group. We get individuals who just want to enjoy being a part of a working ranch, as well as people who use it as a team building exercise. The guest houses are for personal visitors who require more privacy than the house affords or those who we don’t want to stay in our house.”

“That makes sense, I suppose. So, you and Alexandria started this place by yourselves?”

“Alexandria? No. she is just staying her for a little while. Messy divorce. She came out here to get away from the psycho.”

“Wow. She seems so young.”

“She is. Alexandria is my half-sister from my father’s second marriage. She ran off and married some oil tycoon twice her age. I guess he was as slick as his product. Anyway, he’s not a nice man. Alexandria is here to stay out of his way until the court date.”

“Poor thing.” Claire was glad she had not wed Samuel only to find out that he couldn’t be faithful. It had to been devastating enough as it was. Her heart went out to Alexandria for whatever wrong had been done to her.

“She’ll be fine. I’ll make sure of it,” Taylor added.

The unspoken meaning was clear. No man in his right mind would bother her here, surrounding by men that would not abide any nonsense. Claire was secretly even more enamored with the old school chivalry. Taylor Turner made it incredibly hard for a woman not to be completely drawn to him. she would have to watch herself with him as much as with Harper, it seemed.

“This bunk house looks a bit nicer than I would expect for ranch hand accommodations,” Claire referenced the portly bunks with plush mattresses and a large flat screen TV on one end in a common sitting area.

“Well, people want to feel like they are getting a first-hand experience of ranch life, but they don’t.”

He laughed and winked at her playfully as she chuckled. They continued their tour of the grounds, including the main house. It was all fantastic, but her mind seemed to dwell on the fact that Harper was being unnaturally quiet. Was this him out of his element or just allowing his client to take the lead for now?

“I had it custom-made so that you can really spread out and get wet everywhere.”

“What? Oh. Yes, I can see that.” The flush warmed Claire’s face again. Her mind had still been well absorbed in contemplations about his bed as he had moved on to the enormous garden tub in the nearby private bath. She should have felt ashamed of herself for her thoughts, but the fact remained that there was really no reason for him to include his personal home on the tour, much less his private bedroom.

“Well, I think that just about covers everything doesn’t it, Taylor? Perhaps we should get on out and enjoy a bite of lunch,” Harper suddenly said from nearby. Claire glanced at him, noted the look of annoyance on his face that he was trying to play off as Taylor looked up toward him.

“I suppose we should. We’ll make a round through the dairy barn on the way out. Try to keep your shoes clean, Harper.”

“Yes. Lessons learned and all that. Definitely must watch where I’m going around this place.”