Montana Cowboy

by Debra Salonen

  She touched his thigh to comfort him. His errant libido took that as an invitation to play.

  Dead pets. Think dead pets. Down, boy.

  “I was in search and rescue, too. Until I had a systemic reaction to poison oak. Half my body swelled up like the Elephant Man. It was pretty awful.”

  They’d reached her driveway. As he turned in, she asked, “Drop me at the barn, would you?” Her tone gave him the indication she planned to do her chores alone.

  Beau loped out to meet the car then paced them all the way to the barn, barking the whole way. “No sneaking in while he’s on the job, is there?”

  “None. Which is one reason I got him. He takes care of the animals and watches out for me, too.” She gathered up her bag and unlatched her seat belt. “But his barking drives me mad, so I’m really looking forward to the new gate you asked Paul to install. Paul told me tonight his crew will be bringing it out next week.”

  He stopped her from opening the door. “I’d like to stick around awhile. Can I help?”

  “With chores?”

  “Whatever needs doing.”

  She looked toward the pens. “It’ll be messy.”

  “Won’t be the first time.” In the half-light of evening, her smile seemed more nostalgic than amused. Why? Had something happened to make her think their time together was ending?

  “I’ll never forget the look on your face when you realized you’d crashed butt-first into a ’paca potty.” She opened the door and hopped out. “I can always use the help. I might even have a pair of gloves that will fit you. Jason Briggs left them here the other day.”

  “You can leave your swim bag here until we’re done.”

  She hesitated half-a-second then dropped the bag onto the floor of the passenger seat. “Let’s do this.”

  A minute later, they stood side-by-side at the gate of the smallest of the four pens. Only five alpacas were present, but the rest of the herd milled around nearby. From the moment Austen stepped onto the scene, he’d sensed something important was happening.

  “Is that one sick?” he asked, pointing to a mocha-colored female standing off to one side. She obviously had something going. Her breathing was loud and purposeful.

  “Penny’s in labor,” Serena stated. “This is her first. I was hoping we had another day or two. She should be fine, but I’ll have to watch in case it’s breech.”

  She looked at her watch. “This might take a while. If you have something better to do…”

  “I don’t.” He probably had a million things he could be doing but he didn’t want to be any place but at Serena’s side. Funny that.

  She took a breath and let it out. “Okay. We’re gonna need some gear. Two bag chairs. My camping stuff is in the tack room just inside the walk-in door of the barn. You get those and I’ll bring the wine and duct tape.”

  “Duct tape? What do you need that for?” He looked at the sweet little animal huffing and puffing like a woman in labor. He couldn’t picture a single usage that wouldn’t hurt like hell.

  Serena’s laugh startled him and made the other alpacas start to hum. “Sorry,” she apologized to the herd. To Austen, she touched his bare arm comfortingly. “When Dad bought our first alpacas, four were pregnant. The breeder told him, ‘When the first one drops, this is what I want to you to do. Get a chair, a glass of wine and a roll of duct tape.’ Dad had the same reaction you did. He looked horrified. The breeder explained that alpacas usually have slow, uneventful deliveries but there will come a point—or three—when you’re convinced something has gone wrong and she needs you to intervene. So, you wrap the duct tape around your legs in the chair to keep you from helping Mother Nature.”

  Austen felt his shoulders relax. “Okay. I can handle that.”

  She turned to leave. “Unless the baby is breach. Then, we’re in for a long night.”

  Austen accomplished his duties quickly, much too quickly. After he opened the second chair and positioned it beside the first, he looked around and realized he was alone in a pen with fretful alpacas. He felt like a voyeur on a playground. A male stranger, an outsider. He didn’t belong.

  Suddenly, a warm snort of breath snuffled beside his ear.

  “Betty Lou,” he said, realizing in surprise he actually recognized the face. “How are you, little girl?”

  He put his arms behind his back as he’d seen Serena do and leaned forward. Betty Lou thought a moment then did the same. Their noses touched and he felt the silliest, most unexpected rush of tenderness.

  Her welcoming acceptance seemed to break the ice. Soon others came closer to sniff and nibble at his pant legs.

  He petted and ruffled a few feathery crowns. He wished he knew their names, which seemed foolish since he doubted they knew their names. Serena credited every animal with more intelligence than Austen figured they deserved. But he was grateful Betty Lou didn’t hold any ill will about the last time they met.

  “So how’d that whole dating thing work for you, Betty?” he asked, realizing too late his voice carried in the near dark.

  A laugh erupted in the barn. “She’s pregnant. That’s all that matters.”

  He turned to see Serena wrestling with a lamp stand and dashed to her side to help. “You said a flashlight.”

  She grabbed his shoulder for support when she tripped over an extension cord. “Forgot to buy batteries. Darn it. But this will work.” She nodded over her shoulder. “The wine is in the cooler.”

  A minute or so later, she completed her set up and trained the light on the animals. “There’s our girl. How are you doing, Penny Lane?”

  “Penny Lane?”

  “I bought her from a breeder in Missouri. He’s a big Beatles fan. All of his animals have some reference to a song title or album.” Her grin made his heart do a back flip. “My two favorites were a male and a female named Ob-la-di and Ob-la-da.”

  She was beyond beautiful in this element, he realized. Joy and excitement animated her face.

  He kissed her, fast and with meaning.

  “Oh, my. What was that for?”

  “You are the most real person I’ve ever met. There is a copious absence of realness where I come from. I didn’t know how much I missed this until I started to see the world through your eyes.”

  “What a nice thing to say. I don’t get it, but I like it.” She hugged him then turned back to business. “Do you mind keeping an eye on the action while I run to the house? I need my log and my phone so I can record this.”

  She disappeared before he could ask for more explicit instructions. Hopefully standing around looking dumb was enough.

  “Bring carrots for my friends,” he called after her.

  The stillness of evening settled like a mantel around his shoulders. The animals milled around, grazing a bit, watchful and on edge. Serena’s comment about filming the birth made him pull out his phone.

  Three missed calls.

  “Three?” He tapped the phone icon to see who called. “Sheri. Weird.”

  He started to return her call when Penny suddenly gave a loud grunt and dropped to her forelegs, as if in prayer. Something was happening, Austen realized. He shoved his phone into his hip pocket and moved the light stand a couple of feet to the left.

  He could see the animal’s back side clearly for the first time. Two grayish looking hooves protruded in a way that made his stomach heave.

  “Holy sh-mokes.”

  “Good save,” a voice said from the dark. “Your mom would be proud of you.”

  “Thank God, you’re back. Look. Look at that.”

  “Here.” She handed him a bottle of beer. “I decided it’s too hot for wine. She’s doing great. Aren’t you, Penny? Not breach. That’s perfect.”

  He twisted off the cap and choked down half of the ice cold carbonation before taking a breath. “If by perfect you mean expelling a gray, slimy alien, then I guess you’re right.”

  Her mirth made him blush. She chuffed his arm. “Let me guess. This is your
first birth.”

  “I didn’t grow up on a farm.”

  “I know. That’s what makes this even more special for me. My first Montana birth with my own herd and you’re here to share it with me. I’m happy.” She removed a black camera bag from around her neck and opened it to reveal a compact video camera. “I charged this last night when I thought she was giving birth. False alarm. I didn’t know you were such an exhibitionist, Penny Lane.”

  Once the camera began to roll, Penny’s grunts and squawks became more frequent. She stood on all fours again and turned in a tight circle, the foal dangling closer and closer to the ground.

  “Shouldn’t you put something down to catch him?”

  “Cria land on the hard ground in the field.”

  True. This was nature at work. Real world circle of life. The kind of stuff he’d managed to avoid for most of his life.

  Serena got up and moved to a better vantage point, which allowed him to observe her watching the birth. He realized suddenly her name fit. She was serene. Utterly at peace with this process and her place in the world she’d created.

  Emotion built behind his eyes—a dry burning sensation extremely alien to him. Cry? Me? Impossible. I’m Austen Zabrinski, Chief Hard-Ass of Staff, as some members of Crandy’s team called him. Certainly his lack of empathy had played a crucial role in his connection to Jenny Paulson. She could have been his salvation if he hadn’t had his head so far up Crandy’s ass.

  But here he was, in a holding pen surrounded by alpacas, moved to tears watching the woman he…he’d grown to care—

  “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. The woman I love. I love her, dammit.

  The silent acknowledgement loosened his control even more. “Here he or she comes,” Serena called out, motioning for him to join her. “Come closer. It’s okay.”

  His knees wobbled in the most ridiculous way. This was a baby alpaca not his own child he was watching being born.

  Serena, still filming, grabbed his hand to pull him close. “Is it a boy or girl? Look. Oh, yeah! It’s a girl. Good job, Penny. She’s perfect. You did awesome, girlfriend.”

  The new mother turned to inspect her progeny. She nuzzled and licked and nudged. The baby seemed a little dazed but within seconds was struggling to stand.

  “In the wild, cria are most vulnerable right after birth, so they get up pretty fast,” Serena said. She made one more sweep with the camera, including a shot of Austen standing, empty beer bottle in hand, no doubt looking as useless as he felt.

  The baby wriggled around to get her dainty little hooves under her. Her slender stalk-like legs wobbled so badly Austen almost ran over to hold her up. But he remembered the duct tape and refrained, and within a minute or so, she could take a few steps.

  “Isn’t she beautiful,” Serena whispered, a cry in her voice.

  Austen brushed a hint of moisture from his eyes. His heart thudded so loud he was surprised the guard llamas weren’t clustered around expecting an attack. He tried to tell himself his reaction was no big deal. Maybe the fact Paul and Bailey were expecting added to his heightened awareness of time passing and missed opportunities. Would the crazy thoughts going through his mind, the idea of watching Serena giving birth to their child, disappear when he went home?

  Home next door? Or home to Helena? He didn’t know. He didn’t want to think about it.

  “What now?”

  Serena turned off the camera. “We give the new mom and her daughter some privacy. The other ’pacas are waiting to meet her. Our work here is done.”

  She stuffed the camera in the bag and picked up her journal, which, he noticed, was adorned in I Heart Alpaca stickers. Austen grabbed the chairs and light stand. The heat from the bulb made him carry it carefully to avoid getting burned.

  “Just set it in the corner of the barn,” she said.

  He did as told. When he turned around, she was right there in front of him.

  “Thank you. I would have been a nervous wreck by myself—even though Penny was fine on her own. Having you here made the whole thing less scary. I owe you. Big time.”

  She reached for his belt. “I keep a sleeping bag in the barn. Just in case I have to camp out with a sick alpaca. Would you be up for some barn sex?”

  He flattened her palm to the instantaneous rise in his pants. “Up being the operative word?”

  Her grin melted into a kiss the moment their lips touched. Her arms locked around his neck, her body pressed tight against his.

  They kissed until they needed more. A lot more. By then they’d lost their shirts, but walking through a barn barefoot made no sense—even to the hot and bothered—so Serena grabbed his hand and led the way to the weathered wooden rungs of the built-in ladder leading to the hay mow.

  A buzzing sound stopped them. Austen pulled his phone from his pocket and set it on a sawhorse, not even glancing at the message. He assumed someone was texting him, but whatever they had to say could wait.

  “You first. I’ll toss up the sleeping bag,” she told him.

  He planted a quick kiss on her perfect nose. “You just want to watch my butt.”

  “True. The only thing nicer than your butt in jeans is your butt naked.” She gave him a little push. “Go. I’m hot and wet.”

  His body reacted to the image of their first time. How wet and wild she was in his arms. He groaned and charged up the ladder. “Um… it’s pretty dark up here.”

  Her laugh made him smile. “Oops.”

  He heard the moving around before, suddenly, there was light… from a single naked bulb suspended a good ten feet overhead. The yellowish glow diffused in the vast, mostly empty space seemed oddly romantic. As if this world had been created just for them—above and beyond the reach of real life.

  A few moments later, he heard her yell, “Catch.”

  He spun around just in time to grab a slippery ball the size of a trash can. He loosened the ties and shook it out. King-size. Good.

  * * *

  She slipped quietly to his side as they surveyed the sloppy mess of hay bales. “Don’t judge me. This is how I found it.”

  He’d just spread the sleeping bag across a fairly level looking spot. “Disheveled bales make the softest beds.”

  She laughed. “Spoken like an expert. You do this often?”

  “Not as often as I’d like.”

  The growl in his voice made everything click. She wanted this, wanted him. Foolish though it might be. So much had happened so fast. She had a lot to process. Like the text she’d spotted on his phone when she was turning on the lights. She didn’t know what the message meant exactly, but change was coming. Which made tonight bittersweet.

  “Now. No thinking,” she murmured, tasting his lips.

  His arms crushed her to him with a need that seemed to match hers. Did he sense the sea change or was he reacting to her desire? Did the ‘why’ matter when they had this?

  His hands were everywhere. Her butt, her back, her breasts. She’d grabbed her pretty bra in a hurry on her way to swim. Had she known subconsciously how the evening would wind up? Probably. She couldn’t deny how much she wanted him.

  He slid two fingers into the cup of lilac lace. Her nipples greeted him, perky and ready for action. “You drove me crazy all afternoon in that one-piece swimsuit. Sexy but demure. How do you do that?”

  “Years of practice.” True, she realized. She’d hidden in plain sight, waiting for the right person to see her unpolished gem self, gleaming patiently on the shelf.

  Austen saw… and polished.

  His nimble fingers undid her bra and tossed it aside. She rose up on the toe of her boots so he didn’t have to lean down so far to lick… to taste… to suckle. The way Penny’s baby had a minute ago. A newborn on wobbly legs. Serena felt just as unsteady. The pull of his mouth reached deep into her core, touching something so elemental she threw back her head and moaned his name, her inner sex fiend coming alive.

  “The pull of your mouth,” she tried to exp
lain. “It draws me right to the brink and you haven’t even touched me.”

  She pushed him back a step. “Let me show you what it’s like.”

  She dropped to her knees, unzipped his jeans and pulled his pants and undershorts down enough to expose his cock and ass. She licked first, like he had her nipple. Lightly, teasing. His penis quivered in response. Then she wet her lips and covered the crown with her mouth, slowly taking him in, tasting him. His hands braced on her shoulders as she went deeper.

  “Serena,” he cried, his fingers tightening. “Wicked good. Wi-cked.”

  His voice broke when she grabbed his bare butt cheeks in both hands and sucked hard, pulling back slowly. Her power fueled his need the same way he had hers. She felt an uptick of urgency between her legs.

  Austen seemed to share her agenda because he lifted her jaw to make her look up at him. “You are… mine. Now.”

  She flew into his arms and they stumbled, fell into the bed he’d made on the hay. His hard, beautiful body cushioned their landing. They quickly yanked off boots and clothes and rolled together seconds later, naked and ready.

  “You are mine,” Serena said, claiming the top position. She straddled him, cuddling his erection at the v of her legs. Her ponytail had come loose and she pulled the rubber band free, letting her hair drop to her shoulders. She felt empowered, alive and sexy in a way she’d never felt before.

  Because I love him, a voice in her head said.

  “Yes,” she said, staring straight into his beautiful Montana blue eyes.

  Then she lifted her hips and guided him into her eagerly awaiting body. She took in all his divine fullness once then lifted up again, this time cupping her breasts and fondling her nipples as he watched. The heat level in his eyes rose and he licked his lips. “You’re killing me here.” She rocked her hips like an exotic dancer. “In a good way. A great way.”

  She loved seeing him work for control. She reveled in the power and the heat building between them. She fell forward, her hands on either side of his head, and closed her eyes as the urgency built. His hands grasped her hips, anchoring her to receive each upward thrust completely. She swore she felt him at the center of her core. Once. Twice. The third time was the charm that made her breath catch and a burst of glorious color explode from the inside out. She barely heard his shout a few thrusts later because she was too busy basking in the powerful, mind-blowing aftershocks of her own orgasm.