“Did he just use his head to punctuate his sentence...like that head nod means something to me. It won’t mean a damned thing if I crack you across the head with my walking stick. Pecola, where did you find this man?” Danessa asked.
Pecola had already climbed the stairs and was opening the front door to her home. The whole brownstone was hers, but she rented the bottom floor to Danessa, who had become a surrogate mother to her when Fanny Peters had taken ill several years prior. Danessa had been wonderful to Pecola during the extended illness that forced Pecola to work from home. The missed online meetings and deadlines caused Pecola to lose her job as a copywriter, but cancer was one of those things that could not be placed on a schedule. Chemotherapy made her mother, Fanny, horribly ill. The late nights Pecola sat at her mother’s side created a longing for another type of life.
It was late one spring evening when the idea of becoming a mail order bride entered her head. A laptop across her thighs, in the dim light of her mother’s bedroom, she wrote, “Chapter 1- A New Beginning.” It was a new inauguration for her as well. Taking an indie approach, she published her first short story of a woman heading west on a wagon train only to be kidnapped by Indians. The story sold well, so she wrote a series, released all three on the same day, and made the a nationally recognized best seller’s list. Montana Hart had become semi-famous.
The death of her mother created a new breed of loneliness, which was supplemented by more stories, cowboys, and westerly adventures. A new venture was opening for her now with her very own cowboy.
“Pecola...Honey,” he called from the bottom of the stairs. “Ain’t cha gonna say something?”
“Yes, stop arguing with a blind woman,” she told him.
Begrudgingly, he followed her up the stairs into the home Pecola Peters had grown up in. Pecola stood in the small kitchen looking out the kitchen window at the plot of grass that she called a back yard. It was very clear to her that this brownstone was no longer her home.
Her home was the sunny yellow kitchen that looked out over the plains in Montana.
20. Leveller and Last Ditch...
Pecola had barely been home an hour when her doorbell rang. Billy Joe jumped two feet. Wide eyes scanned the window looking for threats and possible intruders. She hit him on the arm.
“Billy Joe, burglars don’t ring the doorbell,” she told him.
“They do if they are testing to see if anyone is home,” he told her.
Ignoring him, she went to answer the door. Her very agitated brother, Zachary was standing on the stoop. An exact, and familiar look was on his face, which emanated a certain level of being pissed off with her. This look she knew well.
“Hey, you,” she said opening the door.
“Where the hell have you been for a week?” he wanted to know. The movement from the corner of his eye put him on alert. Zachary turned quickly to find a raven haired beauty with the most gorgeous eyes he had ever seen in his life staring at him.
“Wow,” Avery said.
Zachary pointed at her, his ability to speak was lost in the wonderment of those eyes.
“That’s Avery Johnson, Billy Joe’s cousin,” she told him. She said it as if he knew who in hell Billy Joe was. Closing the front door, she watched her brother ease his way into the room.
“Who is Billy Joe?” he asked, his eyes half on Avery.
Pecola pointed to the man who was standing beside the wall with a broom in his hand. “He is Billy Joe,” she said, taking the sweeping instrument out of his hands.
Zachary, perched to ask the obvious, was interrupted by Avery. “Wow, you are all kinds of Oh, yeah,” she said with wide eyes. “I ain’t ever been with a black boy before.”
Billy Joe, furious with his cousin, yelled at her, “Avery Jean Johnson, don’t you go embarrassing yourself by acting like a common strumpet!”
“Ain’t nothing common about me Billy Joe, which this hunk of a man is going to find out later,” she said with a wink at Zachary.
The finger Zachary was pointing at Avery was now pointed at Billy Joe, then back to Avery. His mouth, wide open, moved like a starving baby word waiting to be fed by its Mama.
“Avery Jean! You don’t know if Pecola’s brother is married or engaged. Get a hold of yourself, woman!” Billy Joe admonished her once more for her behavior.
She was now standing extremely close to Zachary, a hand on his forearm, asking him, “Are you married or do you have a fiancée?”
“I am not married, and no, I don’t have a fiancée,” he said to her. He was still mesmerized by her beautiful gray eyes against the long dark hair, which hung about her shoulders in cascading dark tresses.
“Would you like to be?” she asked him as she gnawed on her bottom lip.
“Shit hell, Avery Jean, I don’t believe you!” exclaimed Billy Joe.
“You shut your biscuit eater, Billy Joe Johnson! You have a wife to cuddle up to every night and all I have is a hard ride on Buster every other day to make me happy,” she admitted in a harsh tone. It sounded almost as if she were scolding her cousin.
Zachary, completely at a loss to the strangers in his sister’s home, was searching for words. Finally, something came to mind. “Who is Buster?”
“My horse, a great big stallion. I can handle him real good,” she said with a slight curl of her lip.
“Pecola, who are these people?” Zachary asked his sister.
She handed her brother a bottled water as she returned from the kitchen, handing one also to her husband and cousin-in-law. “This is Avery, Billy Joe’s cousin, and that is Billy Joe, my husband.”
“Your what?” he said, stepping away from Avery who was petting him like a large dog.
“My husband,” she repeated.
Billy Joe stepped forward, his hand extended. “It sure is a pleasure to meet you, Zachary Peters. I have seen you play a few times. You are a phenomenal running back, really light on your feet,” he said.
The frustration of the awkwardness of it all had reached a head. Zachary, still being petted like she was grooming Buster, stepped away from the strange woman with the beautifully alluring eyes, only to be followed at close proximity by Avery, who had no intention of letting him out of her sight. His eyes focused in on Billy Joe, who was holding the broom in a manner which did not sit easily with Zachary. Pecola had taken it away from him once, yet somehow it was back in the cowboy’s hands again.
Everything Zachary was thinking came out in one big gush of air when he said, “You are married to my sister...like when...fuck that...why did you...Pecola...you didn’t even let me give you away...where does he live...what does he do....who are his people...who is this man?”
Billy Joe took a seat. He pointed at the chair for Zachary to sit down as well. Zachary’s face was contorted and he kept his eye on Avery. Her hands had traveled to his thighs, feeling him as if she were measuring him for either a tux or a coffin. His feet were rooted to the floor while he remained standing. He’d moved another inch to the right but Avery had moved as well.
“I am William Joseph Johnson. I am a rancher and we live in Montana,” Billy Joe began.
“Montana? Montana! That mail order bride shit you write has gone to your head. Please don’t tell me you put a postage stamp on yourself and shipped your silly ass to fucking Montana to marry this man?” Zachary was furious. “Do you know how many things could have gone wrong?”
“Wow, you are so powerful. So dominant,” Avery said as she slipped her hand into his. “I ain’t never been with a black boy before but I am sure am ready.”
Zachary looked down at her since he nearly was half a foot taller than she was. “I ain’t nobody’s boy. I am a grown ass black man!
“Whew! Yes, you are,” she said as she bit her lip.
“Avery Jean!” Billy Joe called out.
“Shut up, Billy Joe. I am going to marry this man and make him the best wife ever!” she declared.
Zachary tried to pry her fingers from his hand and
pull away. Avery only followed his every step. “What makes you think I am looking for a wife?”
“Every man is looking for a wife. It just has to be the right one. I am the right one for you and after our night together, you are gonna whisk me off to the courthouse to make me all yourns,” she said. She nodded her head for emphasis.
“Did you just punctuate your sentence with that head nod?”
“You can gaurunbetcha I did!”
Zachary was outdone. He didn’t know if she was crazy or serious.
“What...how...what...shit,” he said as he took a seat. Pecola had moved over to the couch and was damned near sitting in Billy Joe’s lap. The love between them very obvious, with nothing phony or insincere in the way the man looked at his sister.
“Zachary Peters,” Avery said real low. “Do you know why I would make you the perfect wife?”
“Of course, you are going to tell me,” he said, a deadpan expression on his face. His eyes were still on his little sister. A glow encircled her spirit, pitching out an aura of happiness that warmed him from the inside. Avery’s hand slipped into his again.
“I will make you the perfect wife because I know absolutely nothing about football. I don’t care anything about money, as long as we have enough to keep a roof over our heads, food in our bellies, and shoes on our feet. I am a really good cook, an awesome artist, and outside of riding a horse once or twice a week, I’m pretty low maintenance,” she told him.
“Avery, was that your name...are you proposing to me?” Zachary asked in disbelief.
“Well yeah, if I have to wait until you get around to it, it will take two years. I ain’t got no time for nonsense. I want to be yourns,” she told him.
“I JUST MET YOU!” he said very loudly.
“We all have to start somewhere, Zachary Peters, and you and I start here tonight,” she said with another head nod.
“Goddamn it woman,” he said, but she reached over and popped him across the lips with her hand.
“Don’t you go taking the good Lord’s name in vain, Zachary Peters!” she said.
“You actually just hit me in my mouth,” he said incredulously.
Avery stood up, her hands on her hips, and retorted, “And I will do it again if you get all blasphemous.”
Zachary leaned forward in the chair, looking over into the kitchen. Unsatisfied, he sprang from the seat to check the stairwell. There were no camera people there.
“What are you doing?” Avery asked, taking a seat in the freshly warmed arm chair.
“Looking for the camera crew. This is some weird joke by my teammates isn’t it?” he asked Pecola.
His sister, curled in a ball like a small cat in the man’s lap, was lip-locked with her new husband. The cousin was still sitting there staring at him with those beautiful gray eyes, thick black hair, and extremely kissable lips. It wasn’t a joke. Pecola was wearing a wedding band and so was the man.
“Pecola!” he shouted.
“Yes, Zachary,” she said, calmly pulling her mouth away from Billy Joe’s.
“Do you want to explain?”
“I married a rancher from Montana. I now live in Montana and we are going to convert the ranch to a writer’s retreat, with cabins, and stuff. Maybe you should consider being one of our investors so we can keep the ranch as a family affair,” she told him. “In the offseason, you and the guys can come out and fish, maybe do some hunting or something,” she said with a giant grin.
Zachary sat again in the chair on the opposite side of Avery, his head filling with concerns as he watched the two of them smooch with each other. His lip curled up in distaste. His sister was now married to a man he didn’t know and was uncertain if he even liked. A man who lived in Montana on a ranch. A ranch where his sister would be living.
“Zachary Peters,” Avery said. “Pecola is in real good hands. Billy Joe waited a long time for the right woman to marry, just as I have waited for the right man.”
“And what makes you think I am the right man?”
“You have spent more than 20 minutes with me and not once have you looked at me like I was a sex toy even though I have shamelessly thrown myself at you...shit hell, I even proposed,” she confessed to him.
He lowered his head and laughed. Avery was an extremely attractive woman. He sighed, “Can I at least take you on a date first?”
Her eyes were wide, “A date...like what? To one of them, fancy restaurants where the waiter brings out a bottle of champagne all swaddled up in a napkin like it is some big headed newborn?”
Zachary began laughing loudly. A throaty laugh which rumbled deep in his chest.
“Nope! Not for me. Today was my first time on a plane. Now I am in New York City! I want to order Chinese takeout like I see all those people do in the movies. Get some of that Sake wine to go with it and order a show from Trap Flex,” she said.
“Trap Flex...do you mean NetFlix?”
“My daddy is cheap as hell, Zachary Peters. We have one satellite dish and a subscription to Trap Flex...mainly all you get is Jeopardy and old cowboy movies, I want to experience the real thing,” she said to him.
There it was. The sincerest look in those beautiful gray eyes and Avery Jean Johnson now had his undivided attention. She was beautiful with an easy way about her that didn’t send off any red flags to him, “Okay, I will call and order us some Chinese food,” he said, pulling out his cell phone.
Avery placed her hand over his. “No, let’s order it from your place. I’m probably going to get real loud as I take you through your paces tonight, Buster,” she said with a wink.
“Well, shit hell,” Zachary said as he stood up and grabbed his keys.
“You’re leaving so soon? You just got here,” Pecola said with her lip poked out.
“Yes. Yes, I am. I have a date tonight with my future wife,” he said. “Nice meeting you, Billy Joe.”
Billy Joe was on his feet. “Wait a damn minute. Where do you think you’re going with my cousin? You haven’t spoken to me about taking her anywhere.”
Zachary leaned in real close to Billy Joe, his voice lowered. “Now you understand exactly how I feel about you doing the same damn thing with my sister,” he said as he patted Billy Joe on the back. “You didn’t even give me the honor of flying out to give her away, you cowboy hat wearing, horse riding, Montana ranching bastard!”
Billy Joe pulled back at the insult.
Pecola ignored the brewing hostility between her brother and her husband. “Zachary, she has a hair appointment in the morning and dress fittings for tomorrow night’s award dinner,” she said. Her eyes were on her husband, who stood there with his hands fisted, ready to knock Zachary’s block off.
“Don’t worry, little sister; I’ll take care of all of that for Ms. Avery Jean,” he said as he placed his arm on Avery’s elbow. “Don’t wait up!”
Billy Joe didn’t like it one bit. “Don’t you bring her back here pregnant, Zachary Peters! If you do, I’ll put a bullet in your ass!”
His words bounced off deaf ears as Zachary carried Avery down the steps in his arms. Billy Joe watched him open the door to the slick sports car, helping his cousin into the passenger seat. The joy on her face was the happiest he had seen Avery in years. He had no right to get in between her and this night, but dammit all, she was acting like a stray cat in heat and Zachary Peters was heading down her alley.
She could have at least played hard to get.
21. Lucres and Luminaries...
The pacing Billy Joe was doing in front of the window was driving Pecola to distraction. Her stylist was due at any moment to work some magic on her hair and fit her hubby for a tux. The floor was nearly the same condition as her bed from his tossing and turning all night long. Each time she dozed off to sleep, he would wake her again by exhaling loudly, grumbling and flopping around being a grumpy bear.
“William, I hate seeing you so agitated,” she told him.
“I know, I’m trying to calm down, but Aver
y doesn’t have a cell phone. It is also so noisy here. Do these people ever sleep?”
“Would you like me to call my brother to check on her?”
Billy Joe shook his head no. Tense fingers ran through the thick black hair; the tender eyes full of worry gazed at her. “I don’t want Avery to think I don’t trust her judgment or anything...,” he said with a pause.
“I also don’t want you to believe that I think your brother is a lowdown scallywag for taking advantage of a country girl like Avery,” he added.
“Oh, calm down. My brother is used to women throwing themselves shamelessly at him. I don’t know why the white women are the worst, just downright blatant. Avery will be brought back in one piece,” she said casually. The words were thrown at him, knowing that he was thinking back to last week with her conversation with Chad. Zachary didn’t have a ball in his hand nor was Avery blonde, but it agitated him even more. Just as Avery reached for her phone to call her brother, the car pulled up in front of the house.
“They’re back!” he yelled as he ran to the front door. He gave it a second thought and moved quickly to the couch. He sat with his legs crossed. He uncrossed them and moved over to the chair whose back was facing the door. Billy Joe picked up a magazine pretending to read it, but it was a lingerie catalog.
“Shit hell, what I am looking at here...this woman’s panties has no center,” he said as he chucked the magazine back in the basket it came from. He gave it a second thought, picked it up, rolled in a circle and stuck it in his back pocket. “I may have to order you a pair of them fancy panties!”
The front door opened to a brand new Avery. The thick mass of black hair which was usually an unruly mass of dark tresses, was no full of body, and bouncing freely as she walked, tamed in a high ponytail with coiled ringlets hanging down her back. Black twists framed her perfectly made a face with ideally shaped eyebrows and the perfect shade of pink lip polish. The gray and yellow sundress did wonders for her figure and skin tone. The lady absolutely glowed. Pecola would have hugged her but her arms were full of shopping bags as were Zachary’s.
Montana (Modern Mail Order Bride Book 2) Page 13
