CHAPTER FIVE
I stepped out of my camper promptly at six in the morning. The rooster had already started crowing, puffing his chest out to the sun as if to challenge it to a duel. Aiden was sitting on a tree stump outside of his camper, lifting a cup of coffee to his lips.
“Good morning,” he said cheerfully.
I smiled, waved, and wrapped my thin jacket over my shoulders as I headed to the common grounds for our daily instructions. “Hey, where’s the fire?” he asked, rushing up beside me.
“I like to be early, and right now I’m barely on time,” I admitted as I picked up my pace.
“I like that,” he said, keeping up with my long stride towards the meeting place.
He smelled of coffee, but the combination blended in well with his musky cologne and what I assumed to be his normal masculine scent. Focus, Claire. Eye on the prize.
Gretchen was standing next to Shep, her clipboard tightly gripped in her fingers. Her cat-rimmed glasses were catching a glare from the sun, and I grinned as I watched her fight the bright light by moving her head side to side. Shep wore overalls, no shirt underneath, and tall black boots. I noticed a stack of denim on the table next to him and cringed at the thought of being dressed like a farmer while on television. Lauren and Kennedy were going to love this!
“Your assignments for the day are listed on the board here. Please find your job and take a pair of overalls in your size to keep you clean. Farming is a dirty job.” Shep’s smile was less than soothing as it turned into a grin. I had come to cook, not scoop up pig shit, but I was willing to do what I had to in order to win this competition.
Grumbles arose from the crowd of contestants as we were ushered towards the table that held our fate, and our new wardrobe. “I bet you’ll look cute as a button in a pair of overalls,” Aiden said, winking as he passed me.
I walked up to the table, stared at the board, and prayed that when I found my name it wouldn’t be beside a filthy job. Gathering eggs. Yes, I can do that.
As I scanned the board to see who I was paired up with for the day, Elle pushed into me playfully. “At least we aren’t cleaning the stalls,” she said.
“No shit,” I replied, wiping fake sweat from my brow.
She giggled. “Literally.”
We were both digging through the stack of denim to find small overalls, but mediums were the smallest size we could find. “Sorry, ladies, they didn’t have any as small as you two,” Shep said with a wink.
Elle immediately groaned while I slipped the overalls over my clothes. They hung loose but felt comfortable that way, so I decided to just go with it.
Shep pointed us towards the hen house and handed us each a wicker basket for our collection. The smell was strong inside the tiny house, and the heat was already sweltering as we entered into what felt like a sauna. Elle started on the left side where all the hens had left their eggs unattended in their nests. That left me with the right side where most of the nests were filled with angry mother hens who didn’t want to give up their precious babies.
“What do I do if they won’t get up?” I asked, eyeing one ruffled mother suspiciously.
“Just reach underneath them,” Elle said as if she knew what she was talking about, so I did.
The hen launched at me, its beak jamming into my hand before it jumped up in righteous indignation. It started making an awful noise and created an uproar with the others. They all started squawking and flapping their useless wings while running around the hen house like it was on fire.
“What the hell?” I asked, laughing hysterically between little squeals as I dodged the pecking beaks of some of the braver birds.
Elle was gripping her belly, bent over from laughing so hard. Even the cameraman was laughing as his lens pointed in my direction. Terrific.
“You made that sound so easy,” I complained good-naturedly, inspecting a peck wound on my hand.
“Sorry, I thought it would be,” she admitted, her shoulders still shaking from barely contained laughter.
I quickly gathered the eggs as the chickens rushed from the hen house. We followed them out and were greeted with a tall, somewhat irritated looking Shep. “Are you trying to squeeze the eggs right out of the poor hens?” he asked playfully, the sour look falling from his face when he saw us.
We both started laughing again, and as we struggled to tell him about the chaos, our amusement grew out of control. His smile was warming. “So no chickens were killed or maimed during the gathering of eggs? We’ll have to put a disclaimer in the credits if there were.”
I guffawed and stuck out my hand. “No chickens. Only one stupid human. Does that count?”
He took my hand in his and inspected the reddened dot, his thumb tracing back and forth over the skin. All laughter fled me as he raised my hand to his lips. I couldn’t breathe when he kissed it.
“Better?” His voice was low, almost a grumble from his chest.
I snatched my hand back, acutely aware of how many people were watching this little scene. I swallowed hard. “Yes, thank you.”
He smiled and took a step back, a professional once again. “Claire, if you would, my mother has a task arranged just for you.”
Elle shot me a strange look as Shep took the basket of eggs that I’d worked so hard to collect and motioned for me to follow him to the main house. I shrugged at her before turning to follow him. His friendliness was creating more of a target on my back than I appreciated, but it did feel nice to have him display such an interest.
His chest was tight and fit. I knew because I couldn’t help but peek at him without a shirt as we walked towards the farm house. He was tan and almost leathery from the years of sun he’d encountered while working on the farm, and even though I tried not to stare, there were a sexy sprinkling of hair on his muscular chest.
“How do you like the farm so far?” he asked. I was pretty sure he caught me peeking at his body beneath the loose denim overalls he wore.
“It’s beautiful here, very peaceful.”
His smile turned into a smirk as he shook his head in amusement. “Yeah, until you hit the hen house, it was peaceful here.”
“Claire, just in time,” Mrs. Thompson called from the front porch.
Her hair was white, the thick tresses pulled into a bun on the back of her head. I felt immediately welcomed by her smile. Her eyes, although obviously suffering from cataracts, were cheerful and bright.
I still wasn’t sure what this task would be, the one that was picked out just for me, but I looked forward to spending time with the sweet old woman who raised such an upstanding young man. “You two ladies enjoy yourselves,” Shep said, leaving me at the foot of the porch steps.
“Have you ever made fresh cheese?” Mrs. Thompson asked.
I shook my head. The process had seemed quite tedious when I watched it on my cooking shows, so it wasn’t anything I ever wanted to do. I had plenty of gourmet shops at home that supplied fresh made cheeses, so why would I make my own?
She gripped my hand and pulled me into the house, surprisingly strong for an older woman. Inside, there were large metal stock pots, cheese cloths, strainers, and vinegar along with fresh herbs that had been gathered that morning.
I listened carefully to her as she described the entire process step-by-step. Fresh milk sat in large jugs on the kitchen floor, and as she gave instructions, I followed. I poured the milk into the large pots and set the stove to a high temperature.
“We wait while it boils,” she said with a smile and then asked, “So, you’re a caterer in Los Angeles?”
“Yes,” I replied, looking anxiously at the pot, not wanting it to scorch.
“And you found your love of cooking while squandered away during your friend’s scandal?” she pressed on. “Lauren, is it?”
It was surprising that she knew anything about me, and I was wondering if she took the time to learn as much about the other contestants. “Yes, ma’am,” I replied. “You’ve done your research.”
The woman smiled, but it failed to hide the sly look she was giving me. Her lips were pressed tightly together as she winked at me. “I take the time to learn what I need to about those my son takes such an interest in.”
My mouth fell open, and I was about to ask her to clarify her statement when I noticed the milk boiling and looked to her for instruction. She smiled and lifted a hand, leaving me to it on my own. She had explained it once, so it was obvious she didn’t plan on doing so again. I lined the strainers with cheese cloths and then poured the vinegar into the hot milk. As the curds and whey started to separate, she smiled, letting me know I’d done it properly.
The next couple hours went by quickly as I worked to strain the milk, rinse the whey and press the cheese. When she started to help, she worked much quicker than I, showing off her years of experience.
I wanted to ask her what she meant by her comment about Shep taking such an interest in me. Was this something she noticed on her own or had he said something to her?
As we squeezed the last bit of liquid from the last ball of cheese, I leaned in and was ready to ask her exactly what she meant. Shep startled me as he entered the back door, causing me to let go of my questioning, at least for now.
“How did it go?” he asked.
“She was an amazing student, and a divine young lady,” Mrs. Thompson replied. Was that an approval?
“Okay. Well, back to the coop for you,” he said with a grin. I groaned, hoping he was joking. He wasn’t. Apparently, part of the job included scraping the chicken droppings from the bottom of the pen and laying down new hay on the floor.
“Oh goody, you’re back for the fun shit,” Elle said, her voice dripping sarcasm.
Shep rested his hand on my back. His thumb moved down my spine before he dropped it to his side. “You two have fun,” he said and left.
“So, what was all that about?” Elle asked, an eyebrow raised as she pushed a shovel across the floor, scooping up the nasty business.
I filled her in on the task I was given as I pulled on some gloves and got to work. She seemed relieved that Shep hadn’t been a part of my “special task,” and quite honestly, I was relieved as well. This had begun to get complicated, as if I was receiving special treatment somehow.
“What have you been doing?” I asked.
“Learning how to properly peel a hard-boiled egg,” she scoffed. “And by that, I mean fourteen dozen hard-boiled eggs.”
I took over the job of scraping the bottom of the pen while Elle gathered the bales of hay for the new floor. The stench was strong, and I would have preferred to load the hay, but I knew I needed a kind gesture to get the target off my back for now.
When Gretchen arrived to gather us for lunch, we were escorted to the side of the barn where a bucket of water, a hose, and a bar of soap waited for us to clean up. “You have a special treat today for lunch,” she said and left us to wash.
Elle pinched my side when we walked up to the table. “Egg salad. Really?” she squawked. I couldn’t help but laugh. I knew after peeling so many earlier that she wanted nothing to do with eggs, of any kind.
The table was filled with plenty of other fresh items, carafes of milk, berries and fruits picked from the farm, a large tossed salad with what looked to be homemade dressings in small glass jars, and of course, the cheese I’d made earlier in Mrs. Thompson’s kitchen.
“So, as you can see, you all helped prepare this delicious lunch today with all your hard work,” Shep announced.
Knowing that everything on the table in front of us was made fresh, using only ingredients found or made on the farm we worked was satisfying somehow. I grabbed a plate and took one of the egg salad sandwiches and a small amount of everything offered. I wasn’t sure if we would be tested on the ingredients used or not, but I wanted to be prepared.
Elle lifted her empty wine glass in front of her place setting. “I hope this means we get wine,” she stated boldly.
Just then, Gretchen removed a large blue tarp from one of the wagons parked near our table. Small bottles of wine, beer, flavored sodas, and water were pushed into freshly chipped ice.
“I stuffed a couple extras into my pockets,” Elle whispered as she passed me on her way back to the table. I decided to follow her lead and shoved two bottles of wine into my own pockets.
After we ate, everyone dispersed back to their cabins to clean up and rest before the next morning’s tasks were announced. Elle gripped my arm and walked with me towards my trailer, ignoring Aiden who had been eyeing me before she showed up to walk beside me.
“Wanna share our loot?” she asked, clanking the bottles in her pockets on purpose.
“Sure,” I said, realizing she’d probably grabbed much more than I had.
“Your camper’s more private, let’s go there,” she said, leading me towards my temporary home.
Elle unloaded her pockets and set four bottles of wine and three bottles of beer on the table in my small make-shift kitchen. “Not bad,” she boasted.
I pulled the lonely two bottles of wine and one beer that I’d managed to snag and set them next to hers. “Where did you put all that?” I asked. She smiled and pulled at her overalls to show how much space she had in between them and her.
Surprisingly, Elle was fun, not snooty at all like I’d thought. She was a private chef, working in some pretty high-scale restaurants in New York, Las Vegas, and even Los Angeles. I was impressed by her resume and realized she’d be a tough competitor.
“So, what’s going on with you and Shep?” she asked. “He seems to flock to you.”
My cheeks turned hot as I watched her eyes widen and her grin grow. “I don’t know really,” I said. “It’s kinda weird.”
“Well, if it gets you ahead in the competition, I say go for it,” she said, opening her first bottle of wine.
I shook my head. “No, no way. That’s not how I want to win this thing.”
“Oh, so you think you’re gonna win, do ya?” Elle teased.
I grinned. “I have a good chance.”
“So, you’re not interested in Shep?” she pushed, her eyes piercing into mine.
I hesitated, not sure if Elle was someone I could trust yet, but as I took a swig of my first bottle of stolen wine, I felt like I needed to let go. It would be a long nine weeks, and I needed a friend here. Lauren and Kennedy were always my sounding board, my strength, and often times, my courage. So what would it hurt to let someone else into my world?
“Okay, so I may have a crush on someone, but it isn’t Shep,” I admitted.
“Aiden?” She burst with excitement as she spoke. I blushed, lost eye contact with her as she squealed.
I knew she had been flirting with him at dinner, and he had with her as well, so my announcement was not only a girl confiding in another girl, it was claiming my territory in a way.
“I knew it!” she exclaimed, sucking down the contents of her first bottle. She reached over and gripped another one, twisting off the cap as she stared at me with a wide grin.
“You did?” I asked.
“Yeah, well, I noticed you were a little frazzled at dinner. I figured it was because I was flirting.” She lifted a shoulder. “I’m not interested. He’s just hot and looked like fun, but now that I know you want him, its hands off for me.”
I was relieved that she wasn’t interested, but a little surprised that she was looking to “hook up” just for something to do. That wasn’t the type of girl I normally spent time with. Kennedy and Lauren were both one man women, certainly not the types to have a fling just because. And, well, I certainly wasn’t, given the fact I spent most of my life with the same man.
“So, you wanna hook up with him or what?” she asked, chugging her wine.
“I don’t think that’s what I want,” I said, feeling the tug of desire warring against common sense.
“You don’t think?” she asked, an eyebrow raised high on her forehead.
“No, I mean…” I blew out a long breath. “I don’t know what I want.”
She listened to my story about Royce and how we met at twelve and had been together until recently. The breakup was hard, and realizing I had to start over with absolutely no experience even harder. The expression on her face was priceless. She looked as though she was in utter shock at the thought of not experiencing other men. It was obvious she had plenty of experience.
“You need to have a fling,” she said. “Aiden seems like a good guy and certainly fun, so go for it.”
I chugged my wine, not sipping like earlier. The thought of just going for it sent chills down my spine and heat between my legs. I did need some experience, and he was hot. The way he looked at me let me know he was ready to explore some options in our dynamic, and with Elle’s words of encouragement, maybe I was ready to explore him too.