Montana (Modern Mail Order Bride Book 2)

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Montana (Modern Mail Order Bride Book 2) Page 8

by Olivia Gaines


  The flowers he had brought her earlier were lovely wildflowers in bright colors. It was obvious he took his time to hand pick each one because they each were cut at an angle at the base like he had bent down to decide which ones were good enough to take home. “The flowers were lovely,” she told him as she kissed him lightly on the lips.

  I am not done yet, Mrs. Johnson.

  Over dinner, from his back pocket, he pulled out a note. No words accompanied it as he took his plate to the sink then headed down the hall for his evening shower. Her fingers were shaking as she picked up the piece of paper and read his words.

  “Light, hope, and eternity

  Shine in your eyes,

  Eyes which bring sight each new day.”

  Forever yours,

  William

  “Damn,” she muttered as she pressed the note to her chest. It even smelled like him. Sweat, bergamot, and something else which was making her get antsy. “This man is trying to seduce me,” she said.

  It was working, too.

  The sun was still in Japan when they got up to head over to the Mckinley’s farm to raise a barn. Somehow, she had managed to get everything loaded in the truck, including her New York Style cheesecake and a carafe of coffee. Billy Joe loaded in a small table and a rug that he picked up at the last minute with a wink of his eye.

  It was all back roads across the land he called home until they reached a locked gate. “Get behind the wheel and drive her through when I unlock the gate,” he said.

  Pecola shook her head no, “I will open the gate; you drive her through.”

  “Honey, it’s dark out and that grass is high,” he said.

  “I know, but I don’t drive,” she told him.

  He took off his hat to look her in the eyes. “New Yorker,” he said softly. “Okay. What we’re going to do is have you put the vehicle in gear, then take your foot off the brakes and let it roll forward. After you clear the gates, step on the brakes and put the truck back into park.”

  Billy Joe opened the truck door and shined his flashlight on the ground. “Slide on over in the driver’s seat, Honey.” She did as she was told. He pointed at everything he wanted her to do once more and she was certain she had it.

  The gate was unlocked. Strong hands pulled back the metal fencing clearing the truck. “Foot on the brake, Honey, put it in gear,” he said to her.

  She followed his instructions, gripping the steering wheel for dear life. It rolled through the gate, as he pulled the fencing closed. Pecola pressed down on the brake feeling right proud of herself, but she forgot to put it in park as the truck lurched forward. She slammed down on the brake again.

  He was at the side of the truck watching her with curiosity. “I tell you what, Honey, you are going to get your first driving lesson today,” he said to her.

  “Why?”

  “Because out here, a girl can’t call a cab or car service,” he told her as he slid into the passenger seat. “Seat belts on, let up off the brake and let the truck coast down the road,” he said. They had just left Johnson land but were still on a back road. “Give it a little gas until you feel comfortable with the power of the vehicle in your hands,” he told her.

  It only took a few scary tries and they were rolling along. “Holy Crap! I’m driving!”

  Her mouth was wide open as they came to a four way stop. Lights were descending upon them as he asked her to put the truck in the park gear so they could switch seats. A long trail of pickup trucks turned down the road. Billy Joe jumped in the line and followed along to the McKinley farm.

  Twenty minutes later, they arrived at a wide-open area.

  “McKinley mainly has sheep. I am not certain what he grows on this land, but we should have a fair sampling of it today. I know there will be lots of corn recipes,” he said with a frown.

  “I brought some tacos for us to eat for lunch. I made breakfast sandwiches to go with the coffee and since dinner was a potluck, I made the cheesecake and some pasta salad. I hope that’s okay?”

  My wife is adorable. “It’s just fine,” he said with a pause. “I’m wearing the old jeans to work in today, but for the dance, I’m going to wear one of the new shirts and britches you got me. Thank you for those, by the way,” he said as he found a flat spot to park.

  “Well, I can’t have my man running around ragged, now can I?” A twinkle was in her eye when she spoke to him.

  “Your man, huh?”

  “Yeah. My man,” she said as she licked her bottom lip.

  “Can your man get a kiss?”

  “I don’t see why not,” she said, leaning over and grabbing him by the collar. The kiss was not one of passion but a loud one of smacking followed by a raspberry then licking of his bottom lip.

  “If you didn’t want to kiss me, Pecola, you could have said so,” he told her as he wiped his mouth.

  He’d misread her intentions. He was out of the truck in a flash and around back pulling down the tailgate. Crap. How did I get it wrong?

  Opening the truck door, she grabbed her gloves and headed around back. “Can I try that again, William?”

  “It’s okay. We need to get this tent up,” he told her.

  Bold, brazen, and full of a desire to make him happy, she reached low and cupped him in her hands. “How about I get this tent up first,” she said as her right hand massaged him. Her left hand went up around his neck, as her lips pressed against his. Billy Joe moaned a bit when her tongue slipped in between his lips, playing with his own.

  “Damn, Honey, we ain’t gonna get much done today if you keep that up,” he told her.

  Wanting to keep it light-hearted, she said, “We can get a lot of things moving forward if you can keep that up,” she said with a waggle of her brows, clamping her hand down on him. She didn’t know what she waggled then; it was still dark as hell and she could not see his face in the darkness.

  “Let’s pitch this tent first and later, we can re-pitch mine,” he said against her face. He disentangled himself from her, pulling away to grab the lanterns. He struck a match and pulled up the glass covering to light the wick. The amount of light that appeared was amazing to Pecola.

  “Pallets on the ground first,” he told her. Gloves on, she helped lay the pallets flat on the ground side by side. “That is our floor,” he told her. Next, he drove in the stakes before pulling the canvas bag down.

  “Get inside to hold that centerpiece there, Honey,” he said to her.

  Again, without question, she followed his instructions as the green tent took shape and came to life. It was bigger than she thought it would have been, especially after he brought in two cots and a table. She also understood what the rug was for when he put it on top of the pallets right before he opened up the cots. On the table, he set the wash bowl and pitcher, along with the carafe of coffee and cups. The lantern gave a lot of light in the tent.

  “Keep the light low when you are changing; too much light will leave little to the imagination,” he told her. He went back out to the truck to bring back two lounge chairs. He rolled out a sleeping bag on the cot. “We can’t do nuthin’ till the sun comes up and that isn’t for another 30 minutes, so I’m going to grab a nap,” he said to her. The hat lay across his eyes as he leaned back on the cot and drifted off to sleep. Pecola was sorely disappointed that he didn’t want to pitch his tent again.

  She watched him lying there motionless. Sleeping as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Two could play that game. Her first attempt on the cot didn’t go very well. No matter which way she lay, she could not get comfortable.

  It’s him.

  In four days this man has ruined me.

  She stepped lightly as she made her way over to his cot, balanced her weight by holding the side and lowered herself half on top of him. He made a grunting sound as his hand came up to grab a handful of her bottom. Pecola rested her head against his chest and soon she too had fallen asleep. Being married to him was nice. She now had to find a way to connect with him on an
other level.

  I want some babies, too.

  12. Leas and Laborers...

  The McKinley rooster was right on time with the rising of the sun. Groans and moans came from waking bodies, crying babies and fussing mothers as the men rose to put on boots and set to work on raising the barn walls for Jeb McKinley. Billy Joe ran a dry toothbrush across his teeth then took a quick swig from a jug of drinking water on the table. Mouth full of water, he opened the tent flap and spit outside.

  “The house is over to the right. Her name is Molly and she’s a very nice lady,” he told Pecola.

  Pecola had his black Stetson in her hand as she walked over to the tent flap to kiss him goodbye. It was a brief kiss, nothing special added to it, and he tilted his hat and headed out. She watched her husband stop at the back of his truck to grab a large toolbox. Firm legs carried him across the plain to meet up with the other menfolk. Since she had never seen anything like it, she pulled one of the chairs outside of the tent and took a seat. Words floated in front of her face as the sun peeked over the horizon. Men in varying shapes and sizes greeted each other. The round-bellied man in the center of the pack must have been Jeb, and he gave orders to the gathering crowd. About 30 men were present with their families. She even spotted the familiar forms of Kovey and Pap as the men pulled lumber from the large truck and placed it on the ground. Half of the men worked on the right side, the other half of the erecting crew on the left.

  It barely took an hour with 30 men working to have all four frames laid out and hoisted in the air for joining. Billy Joe was easy to spot in the crowd. His muscles strained against the cotton of his shirt as he pulled on the rope, calling out the cadence as the men raised the right side of the wall. The back wall came up followed by a hammer which was heard as the friends worked furiously to connect the two pieces.

  Three hours in, the two sides of the barn were up. Pecola’s bladder was screaming and she had no choice but to make her way to the farmhouse. The lights were on, welcoming all with the sweet smell of cinnamon cookies or cinnamon buns drifting through the screen door to greet her. She tapped on the frame of the well-worn door. The woman in the kitchen turned, saw Pecola, and screamed.

  This scared Pecola and she screamed, too. The men came running and she was two seconds from releasing her bladder on the spot. Billy Joe was at her side. “What’s wrong, Honey?”

  “She screamed and scared me, which made me scream. I only came to use the bathroom, but goodness...,” she said holding her chest.

  Almost everyone had stopped doing whatever they had been working on since sunrise to come over and see what was happening. Billy Joe made the introductions. “Molly, this here’s my wife, Pecola.”

  Mary Megan bust through the crowd, “Hey there, Pecola! Needing to whee a little, heh?”

  “Nice to meet you Molly; I was hoping I could use the little girl’s room?” Pecola asked. Molly was still standing there with her mouth open.

  “Don’t mind my sister none; she ain’t never left Montana, so you may be her very first one,” Mary Megan said.

  “Her first what?” Pecola asked with some attitude in her voice.

  “Black person. She ain’t never seent one of you before,” she whispered. Pecola turned to look at the crowd. It was obvious many of them hadn’t either. “Come on, sweetheart, I will show you to the bathroom.”

  Pecola smiled at the woman as she walked past her in the small kitchen. The house was moderately clean. The living room held nothing more than a flat screen, a coffee table, and two chairs. One of the chairs had the permanent indent of Jeb’s rather large ass imprinted in it. Her eyes took in every detail of the house as she entered the tiny bathroom that smelled of lemon cleaner and bleach. Not enough bleach could have ever been used to kill the yellow stains on the toilet seat or the ring of mold around the bathtub caulk, and those details were important to Pecola.

  Another important detail was that she was not going to sit on that toilet seat. This tidbit she did share with Molly in case the woman wanted to change it out after she had used it. People could be strange about some things. She returned to the kitchen to find a calmer Molly standing there, but Pecola wanted no part of her.

  “Thank you so much,” she said. On the small back porch, she was greeted by what looked like every third person in the county.

  “Everyone, this here’s my wife, Pecola. She’s from Brooklyn, New York,” Billy Joe said with pride. “I know you all are going to make her feel welcome and loved.”

  Someone in the crowd asked, “Can I touch her hair?”

  “No! You may not! She is not a pet, George Miller. I know that’s you back there,” Billy Joe yelled over the crowd. He couldn’t say anything more as a hand grabbed her and began to tug her off the porch. Hands came at her touching her skin and someone did touch her hair while a little red headed boy ran over to grab her hand.

  A little imp with freckles pushed through the crowd. “Look, Mama, I am touching the black lady!”

  “Whose child is this?” Pecola asked aloud. A very protective Billy Joe jumped into the middle of the crowd, pushing people away.

  “Okay folks, we still have two more sides to get up as well as half of the floor if we’re going to get to some dancing tonight,” he called out. “Let’s get moving. Break time is over.”

  A grumbling voice called Billy Joe a taskmaster. She recognized one of the men from the wedding, the one who molested her shoe. “Hey, I want my shoe back!” She said to the man who darted into the throng of people and disappeared.

  “You okay, Honey?”

  “I’m fine. I do think someone groped me, but I’m okay. It all felt like a typical subway ride on a Friday evening,” she said with a smile.

  “I’m sorry. I thought with as much as Mary Megan gossiped, it would be no surprise to anyone today,” he said.

  “Telling people about a scary monster is not the same as coming face to face with one. If you look behind us, Molly is still in the screen door staring at me. I told her my ass never actually touched her toilet seat,” she said.

  Billy Joe’s eyebrows shot up, “You didn’t?”

  “I garunbetcha I did,” she told him.

  The two of them stood in the morning sun, laughing at something only they understood. Life for the plain plains people was about to change.

  It was a slow walk back to their tent as she paid close attention to every weed, wildflower, and blade of grass in the field. Her eyes combed the horizon, taking a closer look at all the tents of the people who had come over to help Jeb raise the barn. It was a social time for the community. Babies could be heard crying as mothers gathered the kids close while others played games of horse shoe or lay on blankets with coloring books and checkers. Idyllic was the right word to call it.

  Mary Megan began to bellow orders and every available woman calling each down to the area closest to the barn. A medium sized tent arose next to the structure. Pecola had no idea what she needed to do, but she grabbed her gloves and the hammer she had used to drive in the stakes for their tent and headed down.

  “Pecola, I want you to drive the stakes in and tie off the draw ropes,” Mary Megan told her.

  “On it,” Pecola called back. A rather big-chested brunette in shorts that left little to the imagination came over to lend her a hand.

  “Hey, there. I’m Joanna. Joanna McFie,” she told her.

  “Pecola...,” she had to pause as she gathered her thoughts, “Pecola Johnson. Billy Joe’s wife.”

  “I heard,” Joanna told her as she grabbed the rope. She cinched off the end, tying it to the stake as they moved down the line to drive the next piece of metal and tie that one off as well.

  “I tried to date Billy Joe, but it didn’t work out. I mean I tried as hard as I could to get that man, but once he gets a notion in his head, ain’t no turning him away,” she confessed to Pecola.

  “You two dated for a while?” she asked, truly wanting to know if this woman was her husband’s type.

/>   “Naw, I never could understand a word he was saying...all about retreats and lodges and stuff. He even talked about some New York Times writer stuff, but I didn’t understand it,” she said, tying off the next line.

  “I mean, Pecola, is that your name?” She asked, not giving Pecola a chance to respond before continuing, “I tried to Google the things he was talking about so I could, you know, act like I understood, but I didn’t.”

  Pecola was uncertain what to say to her, so she changed the subject with small talk. “Joanna, what is it you do?”

  “I’m a teacher,” she said.

  This was a shock to Pecola. “May I ask what you teach?”

  “I mean, I am really nothing more than a glorified babysitter at the elementary school. My official title is teacher’s aide, but I thought, since I was in the education field like Billy Joe, that we would hit it off and all...but we didn’t.” She was looking a Pecola with a peculiar stare. “Are you smart and went to college and stuff like he did?”

  “Are you asking if I went to college like Billy Joe?”

  “Yeah, is that where you two met, at his college?”

  “Yes, we did,” Pecola lied.

  “You like to read books and stuff, too?”

  “I love to read as well as write,” she added.

  “Yeah, when I saw you, I figured you had to be something special for him to marry you. I can’t tell you how many of us tried to win that man. He’s such a gentleman too. Alice Fay tried one time to give him a BJ after a dance when he gave her a ride home. She was all drunk and stuff, or so she said, but he wouldn’t let her do it.” She eyed Pecola. “He’s funny like that about sex. If he don’t like you, he won’t sex you.”

  “That’s good to know,” Pecola told her with some discomfort.

  “None of us, outside of maybe one or two in high school who spent some time with him, know what he is like in that department,” Joanna told her. “I bet he is hella good in the sack.”

 

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