The Climax Montana Complete Collection

by Reece Butler

  Hildy swallowed hard. She didn’t doubt that her sons, aided by their wives and children, were eager to put her away. Far away. They were all money-grubbing, backstabbing hypocrites, except the youngest. Dear Katie had never fit in. The girl was smart, but no shark. That’s why Hildy sent her away, hoping she’d find something better than being devoured by the family business.

  From the reports Katie sent to Hildy’s private e-mail account, her true personality had burst forth, along with her riot of red curls. The last photo, taken long-range by her chief of security, showed her at a cattle ranch, laughing as if she hadn’t a care in the world. Two tall, handsome cowboys were with her. Hildy had experienced a stab of jealousy when she saw the photo. She’d grown up in the country and had always wanted to return. As for having a cowboy of her own…Gentlemen friends had been impossible, until now.

  “After my husband died I had no time to be with my children,” she admitted. “I regret that, but had little choice. I blame myself for the way they’ve turned out.”

  “I doubt Walter would be much different no matter how he was treated,” replied the doctor drily. “As for you, your body has been stressed to the limit. You may live a long time, but you won’t enjoy much quality of life unless you do something drastic.”

  A brisk knock announced the next patient. When the door opened, Walter’s wife was waiting for her. The shackles of family obligations closed around her. The invisible chains dragged her down. She suddenly felt all seventy of her years, plus another twenty.

  “Mother, you must tell us where you are going.” Stephanie always spoke shrilly to her, as if she couldn’t hear. “It’s very upsetting when you disappear.”

  “This appointment was on my calendar, Stephanie.” Not that it was any of her business.

  “You need to take things easy in your old age,” continued Stephanie, ignoring what she did not wish to hear. “I’ll help you find a retirement place. You will be able to relax.”

  “And do what?”

  Stephanie’s eyes flicked around as she desperately searched for an answer. She didn’t frown because she couldn’t, thanks to Botox.

  “Whatever old people do.” She flipped a hand. “Cards and shuffleboard? My mother loves her bingo. She won twenty-five dollars last week.”

  Hildy kept her face blank. “Thank you, Stephanie. What an excellent idea. I will certainly consider that.”

  Shuffleboard and bingo? Win a paltry amount of money when she had millions invested? Why the hell would she want to subject herself to boring old people?

  A few games of cut-throat poker might be fun. Or strip poker? Oh lord, wouldn’t that get Stuffy Stephanie’s girdle in a twist! She needed interaction with people who were alert and alive, not old fogies. And, considering her children and their spouses, ‘old’ had nothing to do with biological age.

  Harry, her chauffeur, opened the door for her. They shared an eye roll. He was a huge man, bald and covered with tats. He was also a pussycat. He and his buddies volunteered with Bikers Against Child Abuse. They’d roar up on their bikes to the child’s home like a gang, all dressed in their colors. They made sure everyone knew they cared, and woe betide anyone who even thought to harm the child again.

  Hildy had made plans so Harry would get a good pension when she left the company. Walter would immediately fire him, and anyone else who had close ties to her. The man was such a paranoid control freak that he didn’t trust his left hand with his right.

  The concierge, Jacob, had been with her from the beginning. She’d shocked many when she’d promoted the black man. He was the only one who called her Hildy, and only in private. The only hugs she’d received in years were from Harry, Jacob, and Katie. Her personal assistant and her chief of security would also be well taken care of.

  Yes, it was time to let go. Nothing would stop her from continuing to help the charities she’d believed in. She might finally get a chance to put on a helmet and boots and ride behind Harry on his Harley! He’d been offering for years, but she hadn’t dared. She sat up straighter. It was damn well time she lived her life instead of watching it go by!

  She ignored Stephanie, who chattered on about how wonderful her children were, and how Walter would make sure they did well in the new corporate structure. As in, when Hildy was gone, or dead.

  The feeding frenzy of sharks smelling her blood had already begun. She had to disappear, quickly. When she took the family portrait from her office, Benson, her chief of security, would instigate the Trojan horse program and retire. She’d do nothing to damage the company, but it would protect the things important to her. Walter didn’t realize that not everything he saw belonged to the company. She’d kept a few things for herself, including those barns of old and beautiful wood.

  ’’She felt old and tired but she would not give up until she had a plan. She wanted…joy. Laughter. Snuggling. The strong arms of a man who said that everything would be all right and meant every word. She wanted to be cherished and loved and treated as a precious flower by a man like the ones in Katie’s photo, only much older. A silver fox with a personality even stronger than her own, who would sweep her off her feet and into his bed.

  She wanted…a cowboy.

  Benson had investigated the town of Climax, and the Elliott family in particular. He reported there were some colorful personalities, as well as unusual lifestyle choices. All that mattered to Hildy was that Katie seemed quite happy. She sounded so in her e-mails. Keith Adams’s project intrigued her. Katie didn’t say what they were building, other than it would never interfere with the Winterbourne Fine Furniture Company. Benson said Mr. Adams had quite a forceful personality, as did a number of other ranchers. He’d added, with a wink, that there were a few interesting gentlemen at the senior’s facility, as well.

  Harry slowed at the guardhouse for the heavy, black, wrought-iron gates to open. As they drove through, Hildy felt the bands around her chest squeeze the breath right out of her. Her heart fluttered. She had to escape this mausoleum.

  Benson said the seniors’ residence took guests as well as locals. They allowed well-behaved pets, such as Socrates. She’d go there, using her maiden name. Her family would never think to look for Ms. Hildy Janacek. She’d book accommodation for three weeks and see how it went. Maybe one of those unattached older men would court her…

  Stephanie raced off to change for her tennis luncheon. Hildy told Harry to keep the car handy as she may go out. She put her feet up and had a cup of tea in her favorite chair, cuddling Socrates. Unlike most of her Minton teacup collection, the flowers on the Spring Blossom pattern seemed wild. Hildy took it as a sign to let go.

  An hour later she stood in the office where she’d spent most of her life. Her desk had been cleared. Everything had been put neatly in a box. That would’ve been done by Abigail, her personal assistant. She’d told Abby to follow Walter’s orders when it came time. She walked over to the wall and lifted down the family portrait. She’d leave it behind and look to the future, rather than the past.

  “You’ve waited a long time, Walter,” she said to the silent room. “Enjoy your kingdom.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Monday started with the alarm going off when pink fingers of dawn were still reaching for the sky. The men dressed quickly and headed downstairs. Breakfast, chores, and they were gone to meet with each ranch to go over the plans for the haying. After feeding them she’d soaked in the giant tub with another of Marci’s books. That night they fell into bed and just cuddled. Tuesday morning they’d woken early again, though not to do the morning chores. She’d taken them in her mouth, one at a time.

  She hadn’t realized oral sex was a far more intimate act than having someone use her pussy to get off, as her previous partners had done. What had really surprised her was that she’d enjoyed making Trey and Sam happy. They were both clean and eager. They were careful, giving her total control. They even made suggestions for improvements, as if she’d still be around in a few weeks. She tried to
forget anything but the moment.

  Forgetting was easy once the haying started. As the weather was supposed to hold for a while, Sam, with input from the older generations, announced they’d start at the Gibson’s Anchor Ranch at sunup Wednesday morning. The next days were a blur. She had no time for anything but the task at hand. It wasn’t until Friday evening that she had time to check for Gran’s reply.

  There was nothing, which worried her. She sent another text, the telephone rang with a potential crisis, and it went from her mind. The weather changed Sunday as they worked the J Bar C ranch. They raced through the day, the men grabbing a bite as they could. The hay was stacked before the rain hit, though they finished cleaning up in a drizzle which got progressively worse. When they staggered home and put the horses back in the barn only two ranches, the Double Diamond and the MD Connected, were left.

  She’d showered, dressed comfortably, then checked her e-mail for a reply from her grandmother.

  “Finally!”

  “What’s up?” asked Sam, wandering in. He stood behind her, massaging her shoulders.

  “Gran replied about Keith wanting the leftover stock.” Sam dug his thumbs into the knots between her shoulder blades. She clicked on the icon, closing her eyes to enjoy the massage while the e-mail loaded. “Mmm, that feels wonderful.”

  “That doesn’t look good,” said Sam.

  The stared at the screen. This account has been locked. Do not reply. This is an auto-response. For further information please review the Winterbourne Fine Furniture Company website.

  She immediately called it up, cursing the computer's slow speed.

  “Didn’t you say that was your grandmother’s private e-mail account?

  “Yes, but if it was run from the company server they’d have control over it. I sure hope Gran is okay.” She tapped her fingers restlessly, waiting for the front page to load. “I should’ve sent her the ranch’s phone number.”

  “That doesn’t look like the same company,” said Sam.

  Instead of a tasteful representation of products, her uncle’s arrogant sneer filled the screen. Her stomach clenched in fear.

  “Oh God, no!”

  “What’s up?” Trey, holding a piece of apple pie on his palm, padded into the office.

  “Something’s happened to my grandmother. She didn’t answer my e-mail and now her account is closed and my uncle’s face is all over the company website.”

  “Whoa, slow down.” Trey leaned over her shoulder. “That your uncle?” He shuddered. “Why would you ever want to work for an arrogant bastard like that?”

  “I don’t, but I have little choice.”

  “You always have a choice. You can stay here until you figure out where you want to be. You blew everyone away with your professionalism, organizational skills, and your personality. With those abilities, you could go anywhere. Anyone here would be glad to give you a reference.”

  She hadn’t gotten to the point of thinking about references. If she left the company, by choice or not, they would not give her a positive response.

  “Due to Mrs. Winterbourne’s ill health, Walter Winterbourne has taken on the reins of the Winterbourne Fine Furniture Company,” said Sam, reading the screen over her shoulder. “Mrs. Winterbourne, a grandmother many times over, will now be able to enjoy her golden years.”

  “Gran’s sick?”

  “Sounds like there’s been a coup, and your granny was put out to pasture,” said Trey. “This is the official company website. Why say anything about her being a grandmother unless they wanted to put her down?”

  “You’re right. It doesn’t talk about her business achievements. Gran’s been head of the company for forty years, and won all sorts of business awards.” Tears sprung into her eyes at the insult. “Damn him!”

  Sam squeezed her shoulders gently in support.

  “What a pompous ass,” said Trey.

  “I’ll have to call first thing in the morning and find out what’s happening.”

  “When are you supposed to be back?”

  “Nine o’clock Wednesday morning.”

  “Hate to break this to you, Katie,” said Sam, “but you’re not going to make it. Not if you intend to finish your job here.”

  “I said I would stay until the job’s done, and I will.” She twisted around to look up at him. “My grandmother knew what I was doing here, and gave me her total support to stay until the job was done. But something’s happened to her.”

  “You want us to call the hospitals’?” asked Trey.

  She exhaled. “No, they would’ve gloated about her being sick if it was true. There’s nothing I can do until tomorrow morning.”

  “Yes, there is.” Sam released her shoulders. He rolled the chair away from the desk and turned it around. “You can come to bed where I will give you—”

  “I’m not really up to—”

  “—a massage that will put you to sleep.”

  “Damn, Katie, we know you’re hurting,” said Trey. “We’re not wanting to jump your bones, we want to give you some cuddles so you can sleep. You’ve been working your ass off just as much as us. We all need some downtime.”

  Her heart melted. Unlike the family she’d been born into, Sam and Trey, and the others she’d worked beside, cared about her, not just what she could do for them. She’d made good friends here and didn’t want to leave yet. Lila’s wedding was coming close, and she had to stay for that.

  Unless she could get her appointment rescheduled she would not be having a career in Oregon. No one else in the industry would hire her for fear of offending Walter. She liked it here in Montana. If she could stay for a bit she could send resumes to the companies that had shown interest when she talked with them at the college hiring fairs.

  “May I stay here until Lila’s wedding is over? By then I should know where I’m going next.”

  “Dammit, Katie, you have to ask?”

  Trey made a noise of disgust and picked her up. She snuggled against his warm body, her fingers caressing the curls at his neck. He really needed a haircut. He’d have time while it rained. They’d have time to do a lot of things, things far more fun than getting a haircut. Not tonight, but maybe tomorrow they could investigate that locked room. She’d have to clean it first, of course.

  * * * *

  “I don’t want her to leave.”

  Sam kept working, pretending he hadn’t heard Trey’s comment. He’d slept like a log the night before, waking curled around Katie’s back, his hand holding her breast. He’d lain there for a while, not wanting to move. He never lay around in bed as there was always something to do on a ranch. He was trying to convince himself the laziness was another reason Katie wasn’t right for him when she’d woken and smiled. It had taken an extreme amount of self-discipline to get out of that warm bed to feed the horses.

  Katie made him want to play instead of work. Play was good, but not when it interfered with work. He needed a wife who did not make his heart pound and his cock rise just by thinking about her. He needed someone he could take for granted.

  For years he’d planned exactly the type of wife the Rocking E needed. Those requirements that he’d set down in stone now seemed hollow. Nowhere on the list was the ability to smile when exhausted and under pressure, or to respond to his cousins’ ribbing by giving as good as she got. Every morning when he and the other men had arrived for breakfast she’d smiled as she dished out the bacon, sausages, scrambled eggs, home fries, and more. At lunch she drove a pickup loaded with food out to where they were working. And at night, when they hauled their exhausted bodies to whatever place they were to sleep, she’d still been able to send zingers in response to the wisecracks the cousins threw at her.

  He told himself she was putting in a special effort to look good. Anyone could act pleasant for a short time if they really wanted to and she felt obligated to them because they’d rescued her. He told himself that even as he rolled eyes at himself. Katie had exceeded everyone’s expectations
. Those expectations hadn’t been high because she wasn’t a ranch woman yet she’d astounded them all, him most of all.

  “I said,” repeated Trey forcefully, “I don’t want Katie to leave.”

  Sam tossed the last flake of hay and turned. “She won’t be leaving for a while,” he said, his voice flat and composed. “She said her uncle would can her for being late, so she’s got no job to go home to. Anyway, she hates living in that family compound. She’s done a good job so far, so I don’t mind her staying until she finds a new job. There’s enough work here to keep her busy for a few weeks,” he added.

  Trey poured the rest of the grain for the waiting horse. “I’m not talking a couple of weeks, Sam.”

  He finished his job, putting everything away exactly as it should be, all ready for next time. His stomach rumbled. He wanted Katie to stay until they found a suitable prospective wife. He’d grown used to her food, and her company. It would be a pain to have to cook again.

  Don’t lie to yourself, Samuel Henry Elliott. You want her, bad!

  “You’re afraid you’re going to care for Katie, then get ripped apart if something happens to her. Do you even care for her, beyond someone who cooks and cleans and satisfies you sexually? Katie would be a bright, intelligent, loving wife who’d make our lives complete. But because you’re scared, you want to turn back into a robot, just like before Katie punched you in the face.”

  Sam curled his hands into fists. He wanted to punch Trey’s mouth, but he knew his brother was only doing it to get a rise out of him.

  “I care for her, Sam,” said Trey, quiet and intense. “I don’t want to lose her because of your pride, or stick up your ass, or whatever it is that’s holding you back.”