Montana (Modern Mail Order Bride Book 2)

by Olivia Gaines

  “In the cabinet above the coffee pot,” he pointed.

  The shelves were a bit higher than she was accustomed, which required her to tiptoe up to reach the brown honey bear. Tiptoeing brought his shirt up to expose the hocks of her butt as she grabbed the brown bear. Honey in hand, she turned to find him behind the counter observing her every move.

  “What?” she asked him with her forehead furrowed trying to understand.

  He shook his head as he laughed at himself. “I just realized that I ain’t gonna get much done around here...”

  Chivalry wasn’t too lost on him as he pulled out the chair for her to sit. Billy Joe spoke softly to her, “...because all I’m gonna be thinking about is you...in this house...in fancy panties.”

  Wide eyes gazed at him across the table as she pulled the honey drizzler from the bear to drip the golden syrup on the biscuit. Changing the subject seemed in order. “Do you have a large jar of honey that you use to refill the honey bear?”

  “No, we have a hive on the far side of the property. Pap, that’s our foreman, is an amateur beekeeper, so he supplies us with natural organic honey,” he told her.

  “I know this is a working ranch, but your own honey?”

  “Yep, the food we eat, we grow. The beef we eat is our own, the eggs, et cetera. You will have to learn to bake bread if you don’t already know how. I buy flour and sugar wholesale. Other items we can get in Billings if needed,” he told her.

  “So you have breakfast, head out to do ranching, then come back to the house for lunch, back out for ranching, and home again by dinner?”

  “You make my life sound so simple,” he told her. Those tender eyes of his were twinkling again, “I like you.”

  A deadpan look was on her face. “That is good to know,” she responded with one eyebrow arched.

  Billy Joe had stopped eating. An odd expression covered his face while he sat there and gazed at her as she picked up the drizzler to add a tad bit more honey to the biscuit.

  “What?” she asked him again.

  “Put down the darn honey thing! It’s driving me nuts!” he exclaimed with a frown.

  She picked it up again, drizzling a small circle of honey onto her plate. “This is driving you nuts?”

  He rose from his end of the farmhouse table to walk over to her. In one motion he turned her chair to face him as he snatched the drizzler from her hand and jammed it back into the little brown honey bear. He pulled it up slowly, cupping his hand under it to not make a mess. The back of his other hand pushed away the tail end of the shirt she was wearing. He drizzled the honey across her thigh and replaced the applicator into the jar. He lowered his head, the thick black hair shielding her vision from the action she knew he was about to take.

  Dumbly, she asked anyway, “What are you doing?”

  The answer came quickly as she felt his tongue licking away the honey from her thigh. Pecola was truly at a loss for words. When all of the honey on her thigh was gone, he ripped open her shirt, stood slowly, and grabbed for the fancy bra. She tried to hold onto it feebly with her hands, excited, intrigued, and somewhat anxious to see what he was going to do next. It only took one of his thick fingers to pull the lacy material over her breast as his other hand went back to the honey pot.

  “Hey now!” she muttered while her fingers sank into the thick hair, holding his head in her hands as he licked away all the honey he dripped on her chest.

  “I am starting to like you a whole lot too, Billy Joe Johnson,” she said playfully.

  “Just wait until I get to the bottom half,” he mumbled as his hand went for her underwear.

  5. Lunch and Landaus...

  The crow of the rooster sounded louder each time that cock sang his doodle-doo. It also sounded as if the two-legged alarm clock was sitting next to the bedroom window peering in, crowing to taunt her. His first crow scared her out her sleep, but by now, it had simply become an irritant. Begrudgingly, she pulled herself from the bed, padding down the hallway to the bathroom. A bathroom that was ridiculously clean.

  Curiosity made her open the cabinet under the sink and peer in. The same nosiness drove her to peek in the medicine cabinet as well to see if any other hens had left anything in her new henhouse. There was nothing to be found except a can of shaving cream and grooming items. This will change real soon...as soon as I unpack. Billy Joe had brought in the large suitcase after dinner and placed it in the bedroom next to the bed.

  If there was one thing about the house she would want to change, it would definitely be that squeaking bed. She, unlike her husband, hadn’t slept soundly last night. Each time he rolled over or moved, her eyes popped opened. When it came time for sleep, Billy Joe lay flat on his back, exhaled twice, and was out like a light. On the other hand, every noise, every grunt, every motion he made kept her up, partially out of nervousness that he would want a second round of the sorry action he called love making and partially out of anticipation that he would turn into a honey badger again and go rooting around in her underpants for a sweet treat. I didn’t mind that part too much.

  The part she did mind was that she hadn’t seen her new home. It was the butt crack of daylight when Billy Joe rose, patted her on the bottom, and made his way out on the range to whatever he needed to do this morning. In her mail-order bride books, the husband was usually up milking the cows while the wife went into the hen house for the first time to collect eggs. Based on a scene she’d once witnessed in an old western, that was the detailed research for adding that portion into the story.

  Maybe those ugly ladies were correct. I don’t know what the hell I’m writing. It’s time for me to learn the ranching life.

  Grateful for being allowed to sleep in, she knew it wasn’t the norm. A warm shower was required to wash away the remaining sticky residue of honey. Pecola, now energized, was ready to face the day. Easily, she sauntered down the hall wrapped in a large soft and fluffy towel. Since no one was in the house with her, she peered into the other rooms in the hallway. One was a guest bedroom. The other was a storage space for boxes. The last room was a sewing room. The machine wasn’t new; however, she was certain it could get the job done. Quickly, she dressed in a pair of jeans and a soft blue tee with some sneakers.

  It didn’t take her long to make the bed, fluff the pillows, and gather the dirty laundry. The shirt Billy Joe had loaned her was taken into the kitchen to be loaded into the wash; the hole in it bugged her a bit. The laundry basket held several other of his shirts, all with holes in them.

  “Maybe I should try to mend these,” she said to herself. “What am I thinking? I can’t sew!” She located the travel bag she never left home without, found her laptop and cell phone, and got online.

  “He seems like a Sears type of dude,” she mumbled as she created an account and ordered 7 shirts in varying shades of grays and blues. Before she placed the order, something made her go back and check the chest of drawers. Pretty much as she suspected, all of his t-shirts had holes, the socks were threadbare, and she only shook her head on the underwear. “I am throwing away every single pair of those,” she said with an upturned nose.

  “I might as well check the jeans,” she said as she peered into his closet. Those were raggedy as hell, too. She grabbed one of each item and went back to her computer to extend her order. The shopping cart full, she placed the order and expedited the shipping.

  “My first official duty as his wife,” she said with a smile. “Now to check out the rest of this house.”

  No frills nor anything fancy was in the home, but the antiques were remarkably well preserved. The kitchen was by far her favorite room in the house, especially the charm of all of the cast iron cookware hung on the walls for easy access. Other rooms held simple décor as well. The living room, which she had not noticed yesterday, was very large and airy with a brick fireplace that climbed all the way to the ceiling. The fireplace had notches on it for hanging Christmas stockings. The walls in the room were a soft peach color with one wa
ll papered with little peaches and chickens.

  “That will have to go,” she said moving into the next room.

  Her breath caught at the beautiful formal dining room. The solid oak table easily sat twelve. No centerpiece adorned the table, but a beautiful sideboard, simply made from the same light oak, was a handsome piece of furniture. The matching china cabinet was open faced with hearty blue plates, stemmed glasses, and matching cups. It was a far cry from fancy, but it appeared to be the traditional pattern of Yorktowne from Pfaltzgraff. She recognized the stoneware from a similar pattern her grandmother had in her kitchen, only her Grammy had the set that was brown.

  “Everything requires a good dusting,” she spoke aloud before continuing her tour.

  Another room sat to the right of the dining room that led back to the kitchen but it was locked. “No problem,” she said as she heard the washer stop. Pecola was in a great mood as she walked toward the kitchen but it felt like the ground was moving. She heard thunderous hooves as she looked out the back window to see Billy Joe riding towards the house. Three other men rode along beside him, venturing towards the barn instead coming to the main house. I wonder if everything is okay?

  No sooner than she took a step out the back door, she almost stopped breathing. It was so beautiful and picturesque that she wasn’t sure if she wanted to take a picture to capture the moment or grab her laptop to verbally record what she as seeing. The other image that did not escape her attention was that her husband looked mighty sexy sitting atop a chestnut stallion.

  “Morning, Honey,” he said as he removed his white cowboy hat.

  Pecola couldn’t help but smile at the reference. She played along. “Morning back at you, Honey Badger,” she smiled as she said the words.

  The horse was eyeing her suspiciously. “And what is this big fella’s name?”

  Billy Joe patted the withers of his longtime friend, “This here’s Bucky. I’ve had him about 4 years now. He’s a pretty good cutting horse.”

  “So what are you and Bucky about to cut up?” she asked with her hand over her eyes to shield them from the glare of the sun.

  “I was thinking it would be nice if you have a swimsuit, to maybe have a picnic while I show you the ranch,” he said. He gripped the reins tightly to keep Bucky in line. The horse was prancing because he was ready for his rubdown and some oats.

  “I am not going on that thing,” she said defiantly.

  “Honey,” he said as he turned the horse. “This thing is the life blood of this ranch. I can’t do my job without Bucky here and he is my best friend.”

  Pecola didn’t know what to say to that... something flippant, something clever... “You should probably get out more if a horse is your best friend.”

  “I am hoping now that I have a new friend that the two of you could get along,” he said to her with those genial eyes imploring her for acceptance.

  “Sure thing, but it will be a while before I try to ride him,” she told him.

  “You don’t have to be that close...besides, he won’t let anyone on his back but me”.

  It was a stare off between her and Bucky who quickly tired of the staring game and turned his head. “So, do we have to use your friend here to go on the picnic and swimming...I don’t see a pool...”

  “Take four steps to you right and look over there,” he told her.

  Pecola followed his instructions, which took her off the porch to the side of the house. “Good Lord, that is magnificent,” she said as her hand flew to her chest. The lake sat in the background, nestled between two mountains. “That has to be one of the most magnificent sights I have ever laid my eyes on!”

  “Yeap, I know what you mean,” he told her. She turned to look at him, but his eyes were not on the lake, but on her.

  Warmth crept up her cheeks and she wrapped her arms around her body. “How do we get over there?” Her eyes went back to Bucky, who’d decided even the grass was more interesting than she was.

  “Since you don’t want to ride yet, I can get another horse and hook up the landau for a ride out,” he told her.

  Eyes and mouth wide, she asked, “You actually have a landau?”

  “We do, and it is in perfect condition,” he said with a smile. “The only drawback is I would have to get one of the hands to drive us out so you are not sitting in the back seat all alone.”

  Riding behind a horse after lunch wasn’t her cup of tea, either. She shook her head no. “What are the other options?”

  He held up a finger as if a magical thought had dropped into, “You go grab us a come towels and something to eat for the picnic, and I will be back in a few.”

  A couple of clicks of Billy Joe’s tongue and Bucky was off towards the barn for oats and a rubdown. Pecola was excited to see the ranch, but she knew he didn’t manage it by himself. The ranch consisted of 75 acres of land, which did not include the nice sized lake. There had to be more people on it than the three others who rode up with Billy Joe. An abrasive sounding motor jolted her back to reality as the sound of a small engine got louder as it neared the house.

  It was easy to pack a quick lunch since everything from yesterday was already nicely wrapped. She gathered a couple of pieces of cheese, a few drumsticks, two apples, and two slices of pound cake for the outing. A picnic basket sat high on the shelf in the laundry room above the washer. She also found an old blanket on the shelf over the dryer as well as the two towels in the dryer. Perfect. She ran back to the bedroom and opened the bottom drawer where she spied a pair of swim trunks for him. Her suit was next in the bag.

  Pecola made her way out the door to see her husband ride up on a four wheeler. “Once I show you the lay of the land, we have another one of these that you can ride. For today, we ride together, okay?”

  He tied the basket down with straps then he climbed on and restarted the engine. “Up you go,” he said to her. Pecola placed her hand on his shoulder and climbed on to take a seat behind him.

  “Arms around my waist,” he said. She followed his instructions.

  “Hold on, Honey,” he told her and they sped away towards the lake. It was a nice feeling holding on to him as they rode across the land. Her head rested against his back because it felt comfortable to her. Holding him felt comfortable. What happened next completely drug her out of her comfort zone and made her crave the streets of Brooklyn.

  6. Lakes and Leglessness...

  Serene was the first word that came to mind when the ATV rolled up to the lake. The drive path to the lakeside was a wide open cleared space redolent of large trucks driving the path on a regular basis. The closer they got to the water, the cooler the temperature became. Billy Joe parked the ATV a couple of feet from the lake and stood high on the pads of the vehicle to seek out a perfect spot to enter the water. Wood and debris blocked the idyllic spot to dive into the lake.

  “I’ll have to come back with a truck and clear all of that out,” he told her as he turned the vehicle to move closer to the lake in the other direction

  Billy Joe cut the engine and reached for the blanket to spread it out on the soft grass. A movement at the water’s edge in the bulrushes caught both of their eyes. Pecola didn’t get off the vehicle. The way the foliage moved in the water imitated something serpentine.

  “What is that?” she asked, pointing at the water’s edge.

  Billy Joe moved closer to the water as the black snake slithered out of the water onto land. The expression on his face confused Pecola. She even told him so.

  “What the hell are you doing? That is a big ass snake!”

  “Yeah, it is also out of place,” he said as he reached for the knife in his boot. Out of the side of his eye, he could see his wife dismount the ATV. He held up a hand, asking her to hold still, but Pecola wasn’t hearing him. The snake opened its mouth to show a pure white interior.

  “Holy shit! That is a water moccasin!” She yelled at him.

  Billy Joe knew what it was; he just didn’t know what it was doing her
e in his lake, let alone in the state of Montana. There was only one poisonous snake in the state, the prairie rattler that lived in rock facings. This animal was out of place in more ways than one. With nothing to stop it, it could dominate his lake front and change the ecosystem. As much as he hated to kill it, this was not the place for the predator to make a home. The knife was aimed, positioned, and thrown. It did not make the mark; instead, it only marked the skin of the snake, which sincerely pissed off the slithering menace.

  The angry viper came at Billy Joe with a vengeance. He took off running, making the snake chase him. It chased him around the ATV twice as he fumbled to retrieve his Colt from the bag on the rear seat. The whole thing would have gone considerably smoother if his wife had not taken off running. He looked down the lane to see the back of her head and elbows swinging high while she moved at a clip.

  The snake struck out in his moment of distraction, almost catching his boot. Stumbling a bit, he doubled checked the barrel and fired twice, hitting the viper in the head. This is troubling. One thing that troubled him was a non-indigenous snake being in the place he loved to swim. If he had been bitten, there was no local antivenin for treatment. He would have probably died. The second thing which troubled him was his wife running off and leaving him, when, if he had been bitten, he would have surely died by the time she stopped running.

  Billy Joe looked down the lane and she was still running. He started the ATV and gunned the engine to its top speed to catch up to her. “Slow down,” he said as he rode beside her. Pecola refused to look over at him as she continued her pace like she was out for a morning jog.

  Pecola stopped when he sped up ahead of her to block her path, but she ran around him, making a beeline for the house. Again, he sped up and cut her off at an angle so she would have to stop.

  “For God’s Sake, Honey, slow down,” he told her.

  Out of breath, sweating, and panting like an overheated dog, she yelled over the engine, “You slow down! That snake tried to kill you!”