CHAPTER EIGHT
It was like torture pulling myself from Aiden’s strong tattooed arms, but I knew the group was probably wondering where we’d gone. He seemed disappointed when I suggested I leave first, and then he a few moments later. I assumed that was partly due to his need to flaunt his victory in front of Shep.
The group didn’t pay much attention to my return, or Aiden’s for that matter, with the exception of Elle and Shep. His eyes glued to mine as he spoke about his achievements in the farm to table movement and my thoughts drifted to what Aiden had said about him earlier that night.
Was he a womanizer, a drinker, a man without conviction who only wanted a conquest, and that conquest was supposed to be me?
“Where did you two sneak off to?” Elle asked. She leaned in and smirked as her eyes danced with curiosity.
“Just took a walk,” I lied.
“What are your goals in the food industry, Claire?’ Shep asked, startling me. His direct question pulled me from the third-degree that Elle was about to unleash, so I gladly turned my attention to him.
“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully. I hadn’t given much thought to what I would do next. My main goal was to get through this competition, and win. “I guess it depends on how I do here.”
Shep’s mouth turned down, and his lips tightened as he frowned at me. His eyes locked hard onto mine, and he moved towards me as if I were the only one there. “Well, let’s say you win this competition, what’s next for you?”
His tone shook me and my thoughts scattered. I didn’t know. I truly didn’t know.
“We all need goals,” he said sharply. “If you don’t know what you want, why are you here?”
I felt his irritation with me as he spoke, his eyes blazing into me and I didn’t think he’d let up until he received an answer he found acceptable. I stumbled over my words as I finally managed to speak.
“I’m here because I don’t know what I want. I’ve never done anything like this, and I’ve never allowed myself to have this dream, so I’m here to find out what I truly want.” I felt confident with my answer and was surprised by my sudden depth.
Shep brought his hands together into a slow clap and then repeated the motion until the rest of the group chimed in. I was never comfortable in the spotlight, but in this moment, I was glowing beneath it, loving every second.
Aiden had snuggled in beside me and was inching his hand onto my lower back. Shep’s eyes softened, and his lips turned back into a smile as he looked at me, but then quickly hardened as he spotted Aiden leaning close.
“You were certainly the center of attention tonight,” Elle said after we all disbanded, sarcasm dripping from her words.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
She rolled her eyes. “The way Aiden couldn’t keep his hands off of you and how Shep practically drooled all over you.”
“I’m sure that’s something he’ll ask everyone eventually,” I said, unsure how to manage this inquisition.
“Yeah, but he asked you first,” Elle snapped.
“I think you’re overreacting,” I murmured. “Shep is friendly with everyone.”
I knew that was at least partly true, but it did seem like he’d picked me as his favorite. I wanted to tell Elle what Aiden had told me — that Shep was a womanizer and possibly a drunk — but the resentment in her tone made me leery about trusting her.
I wasn’t about to get into an argument, and I certainly didn’t feel I needed to defend myself, so I climbed into my bed to let sleep steal me away.
***
The week was coming to a close and the competition getting even stiffer. I had taken my turn at sowing the fields, harvesting vegetables, and even cleaning out the pig pens, so today I knew it was my turn at the final task… harvesting a fresh chicken.
Elle didn’t cause me any more grief after that first night I spent with Aiden. Instead, she was chumming up to me and asking for all the gory details about our not-so-secret romance. The other competitors had taken notice of Aiden’s affections towards me, and Elle warned that they had also taken notice of Shep’s.
Aiden had kept my mind preoccupied, so if Shep had made any advances, they weren’t that noticeable. At least not to me.
After working on the farm and enjoying fresh farm to table cuisine, Aiden and I would sneak off from the group and take refuge in Lance’s trailer. I knew I was spending most of my time with Aiden, and I also knew that wasn’t the best move if I wanted to win this competition. I needed to stay focused, which was becoming more and more difficult the more attached I got to him.
My heart was pounding as I faced my next task, two cameras practically in my face. It made my soul ache, but I had to kill a chicken today and even though the other competitors were starting to snicker behind my back and throw resentful glares at me for what they thought was Shep showing favoritism, I refused to let it get in my way.
“You can do this, Claire.” Shep offered up comforting encouragement. “I’m right here with you.”
Shep held a chicken in his arms like a baby as he let his hand smooth over her feathers and calm her anxieties. She was beautiful, and it pained me to know that she was about to be slaughtered, and knowing I was the one who had to do the deed was more than I could handle. The only thing that helped calm my nerves was knowing that the slaughter process would be quick and humane, much more so than how factories did it every day.
I watched as he lowered her head first into a milk jug that was nailed to a post, her head coming through the bottom. She squawked and kicked at first, but once she was secured into the jug, she instantly calmed and just dangled in her forced position as Shep handed me a knife.
“One small cut to the artery,” he instructed, showing me with his finger where I was to make the cut. My hand shook as I gripped the small blade and tears welled up in my eyes. I had never killed anything in my life, not even a bug.
“I can’t do this,” I admitted, stepping back from the bird.
“You can, this is part of life,” Shep encouraged.
His hand reached for my lower back and slowly guided me toward the poor helpless chicken. From the corner of my eye, I saw Elle whisper something to the cutesy blonde, Janine, before they both offered up what appeared to be fake smiles of support.
I looked around the group, noticing some of the glares that were anything but supportive and felt my determination return. My hand rose and under my breath, I thanked the chicken for its sacrifice. Then I sliced and stood back, tears streaming down my cheeks. My entire body shook with both adrenaline and remorse as the knife fell to the ground.
Blood trickled down into a small puddle underneath, and I watched as the realization of what I’d done sank into my soul. I felt strong arms around me and then a hard chest against my cheek. I sobbed and shook, my body trembling and my heart aching as I clung to the body that comforted me and worked on pulling myself together.
“You did great,” Shep murmured as his hand caressed my back, the strong beat of his heart against my ear.
I pulled away quickly, nearly stumbling in my haste. I hadn’t even realized that it was Shep’s arms I had been drawn into. I turned to Aiden who was glaring at Shep, then looked around at the other faces. It was obvious the group was creating their conclusions about Shep’s motives for hugging me so endearingly, and mine for clinging to him the way I had.
Taking a deep breath, I re-focused my attention on the task at hand and followed the instructions for harvesting the slaughtered bird. I was determined to show the others I wasn’t as weak as I appeared. I refused to cry another tear, and I certainly wouldn’t lean on anyone again.
“They think you’re sleeping with Shep,” Elle whispered in my ear after I’d finished my task and was walking towards our room to pack.
“I’m not,” I hissed, but could understand why the others would think so. I looked at Elle and wondered how much of that rumor she had stirred up.
That they believed I would stoop to such a level infuriated me, but also created a fire to prove I was good enough to be here not only to them, but to myself.
As we packed, Gretchen rushed us, giving instructions to be out front in twenty minutes. It was scary knowing the week was over and another competition was about to send yet another contestant home. We were about to become eight, and I was determined I would be one of them.
“You’ve learned many skills while here on the farm. Many of you have mastered them all, some of you mastered some, and a few of you have mastered none,” Shep announced as we lined up for the weekly competition. “Today, you get a chance to show off the skills you mastered here, and for the ones who have struggled this week, now is your chance to survive. One of you will go home, and it may not be one of those who struggled, it just might be one who feels as if you’ve mastered this week.”
Shep spoke loudly and took his time eyeing each one of us as we stood in front of him. I worried that his eyes lingered on me for too long, especially while he gave the warning for the one who might be leaving the competition.
“Are you ready to find out what we have in store for you?” he asked.
We all yelled, “Yes!” with enthusiasm, but I knew that many if not all the contestants were just as scared as I was. And the cameras captured it all.
“You will be given one hour to create a fabulous beef dish.” Shep began to smile as he spoke. “And for your final task here on the farm, you will butcher your own cut.”
For a minute, I was lightheaded, thinking he meant we had to butcher a cow. When the stage crew wheeled in a large platform that housed several large cuts of beef, I nearly sank to the floor in relief. Then, a new sensation overcame me — mortification. As I stared at the pieces of butchered cow, I tried desperately to find the portion that contained the filet. I remembered watching an episode of Shep’s cooking show that gave instruction on how to cut out a filet. As I spotted several cuts that could be hiding the decadent tenderloin, my mind raced with what to do with it once cut.
“Let’s get started!” Shep called out and then motioned for everyone to head towards the platform. I ran quickly, grabbing a large cut that I believed had the tender strip I desired.
I carried it back to the station I was assigned. Beef Wellington was my grandfather’s favorite dish, and I’d helped my grandmother prepare it since I was a young girl. I knew it was risky, and if it was under or over cooked I could be the one going home, but I knew if it was perfect, it would certainly impress Shep and the other judges.
Elle raced past me with a basket full of fresh vegetables as Aiden seemed calm, cool, and collected at his station butchering the large cut he chose. I didn’t have time to focus on what they could be making, even though I was curious. My mind was sharp, my skills seemed unstoppable, and my ambition strong. I not only wanted to win, I needed to win. On my own merit.
Shep walked around the stations and looked over shoulders to get an idea of what was being prepared at each. When he stopped at mine, he offered an encouraging smile and a wink.
“That’s ambitious,” he said softly as he eyed the herbed crepes that wrapped my perfectly butchered filets. “It better be perfect.”
I knew perfection was the only way I could stay in this competition with my head held high. My affections towards Aiden and the not-so-secretive fling we were having was bad enough to start rumors, but the affections that Shep had been showing me was leaving a very bad taste in the other contestants’ mouths, and mine.
The clock ticked down, and Shep added to the anxiety by announcing the last ten minutes. I pulled my filets from the oven and finished the glazed baby carrots and roasted potatoes while I prayed they would be perfectly cooked when sliced. As they rested, my heart raced, and when the last minute was announced, I sliced carefully through the crusted crepes and into the meat. It was like cutting butter… they were perfect!
Five.
My body shook, and my excitement grew as I plated everything carefully, finishing with a fresh garnish of parsley.
Four.
Three.
Two.
My hands lifted from the plates and remained in the air as I looked around at my competition. It was obvious some were disappointed, but Elle and Aiden both seemed confident in their dishes as Shep shouted, “Hands up. Step away from the plates.”
There was no time to breathe before the judging began. The judges were tough, especially Shep. It was clear that the first three dishes were disasters, so at least I knew I wouldn’t be going home.
Elle made a braised beef stew that looked like it could be on the cover of a magazine. Shep loved it, the other judges gushed over how tender her beef was and how well she managed to get a perfect flavor into the broth in such a short time. I was feeling nervous as Aiden’s beef tips were equally complimented, and almost nauseous as Janine was told her ribs were probably the best they had ever tasted.
When it came time to bring my dish to the judges, I felt defeated and knew that first place was out of my reach. “This looks perfect,” Shep said. “If you pulled this off, you might just have a chance at winning this competition.”
My heart raced as he took a bite, my eyes following his fork into his mouth. His eyes closed, and he let the meat tease his tongue as he tortured me with his silence. The other judges took their turns at my plate, each avoiding making any comment.
“This may be the best Beef Wellington I’ve ever eaten,” Shep finally broke his silence. The other judges quickly agreed, and relief made my knees weak.
I returned to my station and waited as the judges finished, then took a few moments to discuss whose they felt was the best, and of course, whose they felt was the worst. Those few minutes were excruciatingly painful, especially as the cameras panned over all of our faces, trying to capture any hint of emotion leaking from us.
“Two dishes were equally as good and are both given third place,” Shep announced. “Janine and Aiden.” I watched as they took their place up front and wore smiles that were mixed with appreciation and disappointment. “Our second favorite dish was prepared by Elle,” Shep continued. Elle took her spot at the front with the others and shared the same conflicted smile. “Our favorite dish of the night was a risky move, but it turned out perfect and was more than just slightly impressive…” He waited a few moments to give the appropriate tension time for the cameras. Then his eyes met mine. “First place belongs to Claire.”
Hearing my name sent chills down my spine. I let out a yelp and rushed to the front to stand by Elle, Aiden, and Janine. The feeling was incredible, as though I’d redeemed myself. The others couldn’t say I was sleeping my way through the competition now, not after that perfection.
I felt bad for those who were called down in the bottom three. As they critiqued each dish and offered up some helpful but blunt advice, I felt relieved to have avoided that shameful spotlight.
As Shep announced the loser — a man named Carl I’d barely spoken to — we all rushed to offer condolences before he was ushered onto one of the airport shuttles and returned home with his dreams crushed. I knew I couldn’t be the only one who was thinking what a relief it was to still be here as I watched him being escorted from the homestead.