Montana (Modern Mail Order Bride Book 2)

by Olivia Gaines

  “Yeap, I would have been in a world of hurt if he had bit me,” he said. Her eyes were wide and full of fear. “Especially considering you left me.”

  “I was going to get help!”

  Billy Joe arched his eyebrows, “Oh, Yeah? From whom?”

  “Don’t get all grammatically correct on me now. It was a six-foot poisonous snake out for vengeance!” she cried. “I was going to get those men in the barn!”

  Sighing, he removed his hat running his fingers through that thick black hair. “Honey, were you worried that I wasn’t going to protect you?”

  “All I saw was a snake. There are no poisonous snakes in Brooklyn!”

  “I understand that, Honey,” he said almost in a patronizing tone. “Running away says to me that you do not trust me as your man to take care of you.”

  For the first time since seeing the snake, she stopped to look at him. His pants leg was stuck in his boot, the knife handle jutting up and the Colt 45 in his hand. Damn, he looks sexy. Focus.

  “I didn’t think about that,” she said softly.

  “Honey, there isn’t anything on this land that I don’t know. Every animal that walks, crawls, hibernates, or populates, I am aware of it,” he told her.

  “Stop honeying me! Water moccasins are not indigenous to Montana. There is no way in hell you knew about that legless monster; it was almost six feet long,” she exclaimed.

  “True; I have an idea how it got here. I just hope it was the only one and a male without a partner,” he told her.

  Fist clenched she walked closer to him, “Billy, whoever put that snake in the lake did so to harm you. Who knew we were going for a swim today?”

  “I didn’t tell anyone. I only came up with the idea when I saw you on the back porch. My mind was more on seeing you half naked.” His cheeks blushed a bit.

  “Then we have an even bigger issue. Someone who has access to this ranch put that slithering assassin in there waiting for you to come and dive in. All of those loose branches pulled over the point where you normally climb into the water. This was no coincidence,” she looked at the house like she was ready to bolt.

  “You are really one with the melodrama, ain’t cha?” he said to her.

  “That viper was trying to kill you, man!”

  His hand gripped her arm. “Seriously, I can handle this, but I need to know right now, honest and true, your hand to God Pecola...” she paused when he looked at her. “Do you trust me to take care of all of your needs?”

  “Yes,” she lied. Trusting him to take care of her was one thing; someone trying to kill him with a deadly snake was another. If someone could get on the land to release a dangerous snake, what was to stop them from releasing a mountain lion or an actual lion?

  Her mind was in overdrive as the squelch of the radio drew his attention away. “Don’t move, please,” he asked her as he reached for the radio. “Johnson One, go ahead,” he said into the radio.

  A deep country twang came through the radio. “This here’s Pap. You were right Sonny. Lucky Lady is foaling. You might want to get in here!”

  Another duty called to him and required his immediate attention. The foal was going to be a nice payday once it was reared. His mouth was tight when he spoke in a tone that was far more dictator than husband. “Get on!”

  Pecola didn’t argue with him as she climbed aboard the ATV. Billy Joe started the engine and drove towards the barn, coming around the side of the large red building to the back door. He extended his hand to help her down. A burly man with a red face, tight lips, and bucked eyes looked at Pecola like she had landed from Mars.

  “Kovey,” he said to the big man. “This is my wife, Pecola. Pecola, this is Kovey, our feedlot manager.”

  “Hi,” she said softly, trying to remain smaller than she felt next to the huge man.

  “Hey,” he spoke back.

  Pap was in the back corner with Lucky Lady. The mare had taken to her side and was trying desperately to push out a hundred pound baby. The soft hay on the floor of the foaling pen would serve as a cushion to the newborn, who was also desperately trying to get out. The arrival of the new resident to the Rocking J Ranch was not without drama.

  “Get in here, Sonny,” Pap called out. Billy Joe grabbed a set of clear plastic gloves that came all the way up his arms. He made his way towards the foaling pen with Pecola following closely behind him, peering over his shoulder to take a gander at the mama who grunted through the sounds of child birthing.

  The sight of what was before her was considerably more than she could handle. The image of the front legs of the foal along with his head sticking out of the animal’s really large baby maker made her gasp. As the foal began to kick and move his head, the mother moaned, pushed, and squirted out a load of brownish liquid goo. Pecola opened her mouth to say something, but the only thing that came out was her breakfast, Exorcist style.

  Kovey yelled, “For a little thang, she hocks it up like a man!”

  The foal looked as if it was wrapped in a white satin sheet as it struggled to come into the world. Billy Joe moseyed into the pen, squatted low, grabbed the forearms of the foal and pulled hard. Another gush of liquid that smelled of sour urine, blood, and something else she could not describe wafted in the air.

  This is too much.

  It is all too much.

  I have been writing about this stuff for years and never, ever experienced any of it. I am so stupid.

  His eyes were not on the foal as it took its first gulps of air and rolled in the hay. Billy Joe removed the gloves and handed the stained plastic to Pap, who was talking to her but she couldn’t hear him. Her legs were giving way when the feel of weightlessness took hold of her body. Pecola was falling but she never hit the ground.

  “I gotcha, Honey,” Billy Joe said as he caught her in his arms. “It’s okay, Baby, I got you.”

  The feel of her in his arms was something he was getting used to. I have only been her husband for 24 hours, but I feel like I have known her all my life. Loving her was going to be so much easier than he’d originally believed. Life on the ranch was going to be far different than it had ever been and for that reason alone Billy Joe was excited about the changes.

  7. Lepidity and Legerity...

  “I garunbetcha she has low blood sugar or something!” Pap called after Billy Joe as he scooped his wife up in his arms. “You can tell by what she spewed that she ain’t had no food in her belly; that was all watery...no chunks or nothing!”

  “Thanks for noticing that bit, Pap,” he mumbled.

  “She sure is cute as a brown button, but she gonna have to learn to eat some real food if she is gonna make it out here in Montana,” Pap spoke again.

  Billy Joe changed the subject. His wife was his concern, not his men’s. “Hey Pap, you and guys keep an eye out. We found a water moc at the lake, which is why we came back so soon,” he told the foreman.

  Kovey nearly knocked him down “A water moc? Here? How in tarnation?”

  “My thoughts exactly. Someone is up to no good,” he said as he stepped through the barn door. He was bone tired from the early morning. He didn’t sleep well with his new wife lying beside him all sexy like. Unaccustomed to sharing the bed with anyone for several years, getting comfortable was troublesome for more than just his libido. The bed also squeaked terribly each time she turned, moved, or exhaled too deeply. Still, the taste of her hung around his mouth even after he’d brushed his teeth. When he burped, he relived the moment of her pleasure infused with a touch of honey all throughout the night. When he finally fell asleep, it was time to get up and get moving.

  Billy Joe blew out a breath of sheer relief when his tired butt made contact with his favorite chair. There was no need to even bother to lay his wife down in the bedroom nor on the couch. Since no movement came from him or his beautiful brown ball of joy, he leaned back into the cushion, one hand on her bottom to hold her in place, while the other rested on her thigh for good measure. Sleep took him over w
ithin seconds.

  As the respite seeped into him, Pecola came awake. Her eyelids fluttered as her brain took inventory of the warmth surrounding her. The constant rhythm of his heartbeat resonated in her ear while her head rested against his chest. My husband. My husband just helped deliver a foal. She shifted her weight attempting to get out of his lap, but his hand tightened under her bum, pulling her closer.

  Pecola tried again, but to no avail. He muttered with his eyes still closed, “You trying to get away from me so soon?”

  “I am moving over to the couch,” she said trying again to extricate herself from his grasps.

  He pulled her back and wrapped his other hand around her waist. “Not yet. I like holding you,” he mumbled.

  Defeated, leaning into to him, she confided in a low voice to the button hole which appeared hold a spot for the missing button on his shirt. “I keep passing out, it seems,” she said.

  “Honey, you need to eat more.”

  “I need to get a grip on reality. My reality has changed and I can’t seem to face the choice...my choices...I am so stupid!” she said, nuzzling her face into his chest.

  He used his right index finger to raise her chin so that her eyes looked upon his face. “Pecola, do you feel in your heart that marrying me was a bad decision?”

  “No, I don’t,” she said truthfully.

  “Was making love to me awful?” he asked her, wanting, yet not wanting to know the answer. Pecola searched for the right words to answer the question, but she couldn’t find the correct phrasing.

  “That pause almost hurts my feelings,” he confessed.

  She sat up in his lap, bringing her knees closer to her chest, nearly curling her body into a ball. “Let me get my wording correct, Billy,” she told him.

  “Wordsmithing is not allowed with me, especially not from my wife,” he said with no emotion in his voice. His eyes hooded to mask the concern about what she was going to tell him next.

  “The pure and simple truth is never pure...,” she began to say.

  “...Nor is it ever simple... You are quoting Oscar Wilde; it must be difficult to tell me this truth,” he said with his head cocked, waiting for her reply.

  She exhaled a deep breath, looking squarely in his face. “It was terrible,” she told him.

  Billy Joe’s eyes were wide in shock.

  “Oh, don’t pretend you are shocked. The only thing missing from that consummation was a stick of butter to lube me up. Honesty is what you wanted, so I am going to give it to you.” She looked him dead in the eyes. “I am an idiot. I had this whole romanticized notion in my head that you were going to be the rough and tough cowboy that I was going to have to tame while I learned to make butter from Bessie the cow. In my head, I even helped old Bessie deliver the calf that we made the best friend of our boy BJ2!” Her expression was somber as she watched him press his lips together.

  He could not contain it. He burst into laughter. A deep rumble from in his chest filled the large room when he responded with “BJ2?” He then laughed harder. “BJ is the one thing I refused to let anyone call me ever! I will answer to William before I ever respond to BJ. You will definitely not call our son BJ either!”

  “Yeah, being called BJ is a whole lot better than passing out when shit gets too real for me,” she said with a twisted mouth. “Ha! I had the nerve to imagine myself delivering a calf. I hurled all of my cookies simply seeing that foal being born. That thing weighed what ...100 pounds? And watching his momma trying to squeeze it out...then I thought about agreeing to give you a child in a year... followed by the idea of me lying on a pile of hay, pushing out our first born...” she said to him.

  “So giving me children is still on the table?”

  “Sure, if the next time you start with the honey first...”

  “What if I remove the honey altogether?”

  “William,” she said with a smile using his formal name, which she liked a whole lot better than Billy. “If we could start with some foreplay it would be helpful. You basically stripped me down, rolled me over, licked two fingers and you were headed inside to play,” she said with a frown.

  “Sorry about that, but you were even prettier in person. I had been thinking about you hard for a whole week, getting more anxious by the minute. And you showed up, you married me, and I thought you were as into me as I am into you,” he told her.

  Her fingers toyed with the thick black hair. “After all the letters, a few phone calls, for me, I needed something more before you know...you jostled me up, but it’s done... we move forward...wait, you are really into me?”

  Billy Joe leaned forward, his fingertips grazing her face, “You are my soul mate, Pecola, and I am yours.”

  He was adorable. So endearing in his earnestness that she initiated a kiss. A gentle kiss full of understanding. My husband. I actually have a husband.

  She wanted him to know her thoughts as well. “I am going to be a good wife to you,” she said aloud.

  “I have no doubts.”

  “Can I ask a favor?” she asked as she kissed his lips again.

  “Shoot.”

  “When we are alone, can I call you William?”

  His lips pressed harder against her mouth, trying desperately not to be greedy, “When we are alone, you can call me Big Daddy if that turns you on, Honey.”

  Pecola laughed, “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  “More than you can even imagine,” he said with a chuckle. “Can I ask you favor?”

  “Sure, anything,” she said hesitantly.

  “Let’s limit the curse words to hell and damn if you could,” he asked her. The idea of his wife having a potty mouth didn’t sit well with him. It lodged like a chunk of timber in his throat the idea of their son’s first words being a common swear.

  “I’m sorry. You know, living in New York and all,” she said softly.

  “You currently live in Montana. Now, let’s get some food in that belly before you pass out on me again.”

  “Only if you promise not to smother me in honey once more and lick me until your tongue swells,” she responded.

  “Aww shucks, you’re no fun,” he told her with some sarcasm.

  “Neither is that squeaky ass bed. Can we get rid of that thing?”

  “Why? It made me feel powerful,” he was laughing as he spoke.

  “For all three minutes?” she asked, biting her lip.

  “That is cold. Besides, I think it was at least five...and it’s not my fault that my wife is so frickin’ hot,” he waggled his eyebrows.

  “William,” she touched his arm as she slowed and turned to face him. “I can do this. I can be a good wife to you, learn how to help you run this place, you know... bring your vision to life.”

  “That’s only half of why I married you, Honey,” he said to her.

  “The other half?”

  “We’ll get to that in good time,” he smiled. “Let’s eat something. I’m starving.”

  8. Lexigrams and Litanies...

  On the third morning of being Billy Joe’s wife, Pecola rose at the crack of dawn with him. While he showered before getting dressed, she seared a ham steak, scrambled up some eggs, and reheated two of the remaining angelic biscuits. A brimming hot cup of coffee was being placed upon the table when her husband came into the kitchen. The surprise on his face at seeing his wife awake was evident.

  Her surprise at being awake was more of a shock to her than anyone. Once more, she had not slept well. Each time she turned, Billy Joe pulled her in closer to him. Spooning wasn’t the word for how he held her all night. Every attempt to move to her side of the bed was ended by a large muscular arm that drug her back into the warm well of manliness she called husband. At one point, she began to feel sympathy for the cartoon character that was mistaken for the bunny rabbit by the abominable snowman named George. Especially after Billy Joe turned over, smacking her hard on her ass. This is also the reason she was awake looking like Hell had shown up and done her ha
ir.

  “I thought I would help you start this Thursday morning,” she smiled at him.

  “A better start to the morning would have been a little jostling before I left the bed,” he grinned, accepting the cup of coffee.

  “You’ll do better with the scrambled eggs,” she told him. She held onto the robe she wore, cinched tight about her waist with a corded tie, for mental support. The cup she held had no coffee since it was her intention of heading into the guest room to go back to sleep on a bed that didn’t complain every time a body moved.

  He ate in silence, never taking his eyes off of his new bride.

  “What?” she asked with a sleepy frown.

  “You are a mighty fine-looking woman, Pecola Johnson,” he told her.

  This was the first time she’d heard her new name. “Pecola Johnson,” she repeated. “I like it.”

  He cut a bit of the ham steak and shoved it into his mouth. “Can I ask you something, Honey?”

  Words were not her friend before the sun came up; Pecola only nodded her agreement. Maybe she should have waited until after lunch to answer her husband. He barreled on wanting to know, “How long before...I mean...when do you think we should start working on making some babies?”

  Had she been drinking something this would have been the perfect point to spit it out across the room. “I’m sorry. I am still asleep. What?”

  “Are you still taking a contraceptive or was our first time together possibly the start of our new family?” he asked, looking her squarely in the face.

  Her lips were pressed tightly together when she answered him. “I am still taking something,” she confessed. Her eyes were down when she responded.

  “How long are you going to continue to take it? I mean it has to get out of your system and all,” he told her.

  “True. The marriage contract states the child has to be conceived in the first year, so technically, we can begin trying in August,” she hoped her words would reach his heart instead of simply his ears.

  “Why so long?”

  “I want a few months to dig into this life, focus on your vision, and get it off the ground and moving in the right direction.” Her words were not flying. She took another approach. “Selfishly, I want you to myself before I have to share you with someone else. I want time to fall head over heels in love with you.”