Montana Wild: A Small Town Romance - Book 4

by Vanessa Vale

  I was doomed to love a man who was pushing for something he'd never find in New York. He had to search inside himself to find it, and I was afraid he never would.

  Oh, God. I loved him. I did. I was in so far over my head. I had no idea how I was going to recover from knowing he was going away again. I tried to steer clear, tried to protect myself. It had been a futile effort, like fighting a riptide. One look, one touch, one kiss and I was swept under. My body craved his, remembered it. Needed it. I needed him.

  But it wasn't just that. Mike was able to see right through me, through the facade I'd built, to the real me. He was right. I didn't want to be a teacher. I wanted to be a writer. A writer. An erotic romance writer. But I was afraid. Worse than that. I was chicken. I had to let that asshat Todd stop ruling my life, stop letting words of a bad high school teacher get to me, even after all these years. I knew it, but it was hard. Really hard to do. I just had no idea how I was going to leave a good job to become Cherry Bottoms.

  Chapter 21

  Jubal, the twins and Goldie were back by lunch. Mike updated Jubal on the FBI's visit the day before, but he didn't seem bothered. In fact, he fell asleep in his recliner almost immediately, so he clearly wasn't a wanted felon on the lam. The twins took Jubal's truck and left, no one knowing where. Ever since the baby announcement, they'd kept their distance, which was fine with me.

  Goldie, on the other hand, had become my sidekick, regaling me with all the details of the brown bears standing in the river trying to catch salmon swimming upstream to spawn. When she finished her play-by-play, she moved on to me.

  Lucky me.

  “Have you calmed down at all about the book?” Goldie asked, making herself a sandwich in Jubal's kitchen. It was hard to concentrate on her words as I was picturing in my mind what Mike had done to me on that counter.

  “Have you unpublished it yet?” I retorted.

  She spread mayo on a slice of bread. “Now why would I do that? You're making a fortune.”

  The thought of making money—lots of it—certainly had appeal. “Because I don't want the whole world to know me as Cherry Bottoms.”

  Goldie chuckled. “Love that name.”

  “People jump to conclusions about me and what's in the book based on that name. It's practically misrepresentation!”

  Goldie eyed me. “Is that your problem? What other people think?”

  I screwed the lid on the mayo jar and put it back in the fridge for her. “Of course, it is. People are going to think that I...that I'm...” I couldn't say it.

  “That you don't have a cherry bottom?”

  “Exactly!”

  “So what?”

  I just stared for a minute. “So what? I won't be able to look my parents in the eye ever again.”

  Goldie added a slice of tomato to her sandwich. “Have you ever been filmed for a sex tape, online video or porn?”

  Was she serious? “No!”

  “Then your parents know it's not real. It's a book, Violet. It's pretend. Not an autobiography.”

  “But it came from my imagination. They'll know I came up with that...that story.”

  Goldie put down the head of lettuce and turned to me. The look on her face was different than before. More serious. “This is bigger than just the pen name, isn't it? I don't know what it is, but it's kept you from writing. You're really, really good and people are buying something you wrote. I don't just mean one or two friends to make you feel good about yourself. Thousands of strangers. But you avoid writing because you're afraid and hiding behind your job. I'm right, aren't I?”

  Was I all of a sudden completely transparent? I stared back, trying to hold in hot tears. She was good, dammit. She could see things you tried very, very hard to hide. Mike had seen through me, too, been able to see the real me through all the fake walls I'd put up.

  I could only nod.

  She placed her hand on top of mine. “You don't have to tell me about it. But you need to tell Mike.”

  “But—”

  “You've loved him since you were a kid. Something changed while I was off watching bears.” She eyed me from head to toe. “I'm guessing you did that man like I said, but I'm not going to pry.”

  Yeah, right.

  “Tell him what happened, Violet. He'll be there for you. You might not think it, but he's been there all along.”

  I was speechless. I wasn't sure if it was because Goldie said I loved Mike, or because he would be the one who could understand.

  Mike was in Jubal's workout room on the treadmill, going somewhere between a run and Mach two. He wore running shorts and a trim fitting, sweat soaked T-shirt which totally worked for me. Man, did it work for me. The last time I'd seen him sweaty and out of breath I'd been straddling him on the kitchen floor crying out his name.

  Oh, God.

  He pulled ear buds out and let them dangle around his neck.

  “Um...” Focus, Violet. “How come you're not running outside? The rain's stopped.”

  Mike kept pounding away. “Bears.”

  Couldn't fault him for that answer. “Here.”

  I held out Goldie's e-reader. I felt like I was in middle school and handing over a bad report card.

  “What's that?”

  “My book. I want you to read it.” Kind of.

  Mike stepped onto the sides of the treadmill, and then shut it down. He used a towel to wipe his face, looked at me closely. When he was satisfied with whatever he read on my face, he took the reader from me and nodded.

  An hour later the clouds had lifted, but I wasn't sure for how long. It was cooler, only in the fifties. I had to get out of the house, away from Mike and his reading, so I dragged Goldie to the Alaska Zoo. We were bundled up in jeans and sweaters, rain boots, raincoats. We both carried umbrellas like walking sticks, just in case.

  The place was deserted and quiet. Goldie didn't say much, which wasn't her usual, enjoying the animals without any meddling. For once. Perhaps she sensed my mood and didn't want to push.

  Possible, but highly doubtful.

  It was a great zoo, housing animals that were only indigenous to the cold climate. There weren't any lions or zebras or other species that lived in arid climates.

  We'd made it past the black bears, the caribou and the wolves before stopping and staring at the Siberian tiger. Supposedly, there were two, but only one was pacing, following a circuit all around the large enclosure, surrounded by a very, very high, electrified fence. We were within ten feet of the one tiger, his coat so amazing to look at Goldie and I were mesmerized. The tiger was equally intrigued with us because he stopped right in front of us and gazed right back. Although I figured he was thinking how good we'd taste if the fence wasn't in the way.

  My cell rang, interrupting the staring contest. The display read Mike.

  “Hi. Have you seen this Siberian tiger? It's gorgeous.” Even with the big fangs.

  “Yeah. Um, Vi. The FBI's here and I need you to come back to the house.”

  Goldie was watching me as closely as she did the tiger.

  “Sure. Give us ten minutes.”

  Goldie didn't ask many questions on our way back to the house because she probably was smart enough to realize I didn't know anything. I had no doubt she wouldn't leave my side when we arrived, however.

  We found Mike, Jubal and the FBI sitting in the living room. None looked comfortable in the high-backed chairs, the vintage seventies couch. Laurel and Hardy still had on their jackets.

  Mike stood, took my hand, leaned in and kissed my cheek, smiled at Goldie and gave her his seat.

  “Miss Miller, we're here investigating the theft of a necklace that seems to have been taken from a small museum in Alabama. Looks just like this one.”

  If I didn't know any better, he held up the necklace that Jubal had given me.

  I pointed at the cross. “That's a duplicate?”

  “Yes, ma'am.”

  I looked at Mike and then Jubal. Did Jubal steal a necklace? No way. He
couldn't pull off something like that. Nor could he have traveled to Alabama while working for the military in Alaska. They might be close in the alphabet, but were definitely far apart geographically.

  Hardy continued. “We believe Mr. Jgorgen was sent the real necklace by mistake.”

  “I told them I gave it to you as a gift,” Jubal added.

  “Congratulations, by the way, on the baby,” Laurel said as his gaze dropped to my stomach.

  Mike still held my hand in his so I gave him a good, hard squeeze. Was I perpetuating a crime by lying to the FBI about a fake baby? Yeah, probably not.

  “Um...thank you. Would you like me to get the necklace?”

  “I went looking for it but didn't know where to find it,” Mike told me. “Sorry.”

  I shook my head. “No, no. It's fine. It should be on the sink in the bathroom. I'll just go get it.”

  Not sure if I could go, I looked to Laurel and Hardy, who both nodded.

  When I left the room I heard Goldie say, “I thought you all wore black suits and ties.”

  Knowing they wouldn't get bored while I was gone, I went directly to the bathroom. I remembered taking it off after brunch the day before when talking with Mike. But it wasn't there. It was big enough that I couldn't miss it. I looked in my toiletry case, on the floor in front of the vanity, all around the bathroom. Gone.

  I turned to go back into the bedroom and looming in the doorway was Mike. My heart jumped into my throat. “Shit, you scared me.”

  “Sorry. I guess you didn't find it?”

  “No. I took it off in there.” I pointed to the sink. “Alex rifled through my suitcase the other day so it wouldn't surprise me if he took it for something.”

  We looked around the bedroom, scanning. We saw it at the same time and we both let out a pent-up breath. Sitting on top of the dresser was George with the necklace around his neck. The chain was wrapped three times and he looked like a gnome rapper.

  “Good thing we're fake pregnant,” I said. “I'm not ready for real kids.”

  Mike made a noncommittal sound as he carefully pulled it from George and we went back to give it to the feds. Goldie was still yammering away, asking them about their badges and what metal they were made from.

  Both men stood abruptly when we came in the room, probably thrilled to be able to cut Goldie off.

  “Looks like we have a match,” Mike said, the necklace dangling from his fingers.

  He handed it to Laurel. The man inspected it, flipped it over, assessing the chain, and compared it to the other.

  “Can I see them?” Goldie asked.

  Laurel thought for a moment, and then handed them both to Goldie.

  “Hmm,” she said, weighing both. “This one feels heavier. No, they look identical, don't they, Violet?”

  They did. Identical. Goldie lifted them up and held them to her ample chest. “Same length.” She put them side by side. “Remarkable. Violet gets to keep the fake one then?”

  “Yes. You're welcome to keep the replica which is what Mr. Jgorgen paid for.”

  Goldie handed the replica to me, the real necklace back to Laurel. I had no choice but to put it on. The chain tangled in my hair and Mike helped me pull it free. To me, I couldn't tell the difference. My back was going to ache regardless of authenticity.

  “Mr. Jgorgen, we're sorry for the confusion. Thank you for your time.”

  “Sure, no problem.”

  The men gave us their thanks, nodded to Goldie—probably afraid she'd start asking more questions if they talked anymore—and left.

  “Sweetheart, I'm so sorry for the mix-up,” Jubal said to me. “At least now you won't be afraid to wear it, knowing it's not the real deal.”

  Right. “It's okay.”

  “Bob, what is all this about? Stolen jewelry?” Goldie asked.

  “I'm hungry. Anyone else?” Jubal asked. We followed him into the kitchen where he began scrounging through the fridge. “I ordered it online. It was supposed to be the replica of Mrs. Davis' necklace, and it sure as hell wasn't from a museum, and it certainly wasn't supposed to be stolen. I have a hankering for fried chicken. I'm going to go pick some up at the drive-thru. Anyone want to join me?”

  “Aren't you curious about it?” I asked. I sure was.

  “Honey, I'm retired now. I'm going to Maryland next week to be Jubal Early. You have the right necklace now so I'll let those two young bucks solve this mystery.” Jubal clapped his hands. “So, fried chicken, anyone?”

  “I heard back from New York,” Mike told me two hours later.

  I'd been reading in one of the recliners in the man cave. Jubal hadn't returned yet. Goldie decided to take a nap and had yet to resurface. No sign of the twins.

  I looked up from my book at his words. “Oh?”

  “I'm leaving tonight.”

  “Oh,” I said, this time in a completely different tone. This was it. It was official. I'd done my job, kept Susan away. Now he was leaving and I was to go back to my old life. I missed him already. Crap.

  “My parents, Banks, Trish and Alex won't be back from Denali until the day after tomorrow. They're enjoying it too much to leave. I figured you didn't want to stay with Goldie and Uncle Bob, and there's no way in hell you're staying by yourself with the twins, so I changed your ticket. You're on the red eye out tonight, too.”

  My heart sped up. “With you to New York?”

  He shook his head, let out a long breath. “No, Seattle, then an early morning flight from there to Bozeman.”

  That feeling—pain, sadness, anger, bitterness all rolled into one—took over. “Right. Um...I'll just go pack then.” I stood and made it to the doorway where he stood. He was so big he loomed over me, blocking my escape. I tried to move him out of the way, but he wouldn't budge.

  “Vi, please don't be like this.”

  I looked up at him, saw something in his eyes, something that said everything wasn't right with him either.

  I pasted on a fake smile. “Like what?”

  “Like I just ran over your dog.”

  I had to work on my fake smile. I sighed. “Fine. I'm...disappointed. But that doesn't matter. I just want you to be happy. If that isn't with me, then I'm okay with that.” I really wasn't, but that was the way it had to be. I did love him. Enough, maybe so much that if he didn't want to be with me, I would let him go. I didn't want a man who was with me, but his heart was in New York City. He'd resent me and that would never go away.

  His gaze roamed over my face, searching. “Happy? You want me to be happy?”

  Before I could reply, his mouth was on mine. Hard, powerful, aggressive. His tongue swept between my parted lips, tangling with mine. He stepped forward, pressing me into the doorway, his hard length pinning me, some lower places definitely harder than others. My nipples ached, my entire body softened for him.

  “You make me happy, Vi. Be with me.”

  I pushed harder against his chest and with a sigh, he stepped back. “Where? In New York? Regardless of what I might want to do with my life, I've got commitments. I'm teaching school in August whether I want to or not. I have a mortgage, a life. In Montana.”

  “Shit,” he murmured, running his hand through his hair, parts of it sticking up.

  “We just reconnected.”

  “We reconnected, all right,” he added, his voice sly.

  “It's not enough. I want more. More reconnecting. Maybe a date? Dinner and a movie? I want to be like a normal couple getting to know each other. You have to admit this trip is not normal.”

  “Vi—”

  I held up my hand to hold him off.

  He grabbed it, looked at the palm where I'd been stung, put it to his mouth and tenderly kissed the spot.

  “Go. Do what you need to do. But think about this. Are you taking the job in New York because your friend from camp died and you're trying to help others, or are you taking it because you're mad at yourself for something you had no control over? It's never going to stop. New York, Austral
ia. You can run, but it's never going to stop until you let go.”

  I did just that. I let go. I left him standing there and went into the bedroom, packed my bags and had Goldie drive me to the airport.

  Chapter 22

  “Are you going to be okay?” Goldie asked, concern lacing her words. We were in the clown car on our way to the airport. She drove. Like a New York taxi driver. Every turn was taken at the same speed as a straightaway. Fast. I held onto the oh shit bar and had my foot pressed to the floor on my imaginary brake.

  “I'm numb at the moment.” I was numb on the inside, but frantic we were going to have a close encounter of the animal kind. The clown car didn't stand a chance next to Bullwinkle popping out of the woods.

  “Why is it you're leaving today? I missed the whole 'abandon ship' scenario.”

  I gripped the bar above the door tighter and squeezed my eyes shut as we plowed through a yellow light. “Mike's taking a job in New York. Watch that car!”

  “Oh,” Goldie said, weaving around a slow car. I looked over at the driver, who promptly shared a lovely hand gesture. Nice. “I thought he was settled in Bozeman. He's got that lovely house and his practice is doing so well.”

  “Yeah, well. He's searching for something he's never going to find.”

  “Like a treasure?”

  Goldie honked at a car that was going too slow on the road leading into the airport.

  “No. More like a unicorn.”

  “You should know this, Vi, but they don't exist.” She patted my leg.

  “Exactly.” Oh god, she was driving one handed. Where were the cops when we needed to be pulled over?

  “Okay. Weird, but okay.” Moving the car into the Drop Off lane, she put the car in park. Turned to look at me. “Why are you sweating? It's fifty degrees out.”

  I frowned at her. I was sweating because my heart was at stroke point.