BIG SKY Page 4

  “WHAT?” MY BROTHER’S voice comes through the phone. “You did what?”

  As different as we are, we are still best friends, and we tell each other almost everything. He’s the sister I never had.

  He called to see how I was doing. We talk almost every day, but I’ve been so obsessed with myself and my own hormones since I got here to the ranch, I didn’t even think to call him yesterday.

  “Don’t judge me,” I spit back with our standard banter. “Benjamin, he’s so hot. He makes me feel things.”

  “Uh huh.” His flat tone tells me he’s not riding the same ride as me. “I’m sure he makes lots of the women that come there feel things. Trust me, I’m a guy, I know.”

  “He’s not like that.”

  “Based on what? Based on knowing him from a distance for two days, then up close and way too personal for a couple of hours? Mary Beth.” He’s scolding now. “Don’t get caught up. You’re waiting for your golden ticket. Look at me. I love Malory, but raising a baby alone will put a big damper on the dreams you’ve had since we were little.”

  “It’s fine. I can handle it.”

  “I wasn’t hearing ‘I can handle it’ when you were telling me what happened out under that big Montana sky today.”

  “Well, you might just have to trust me.”

  Outside the cabin, there’s the clang clang clang of the dinner bell, and right on cue, my stomach growls.

  “I gotta go. Dinner time and I’m starving.”

  “Fine.” I hear three-year-old Malory start screaming in the background. “Oh shit.” Benjamin’s tone turns to concern.

  “She okay?” I ask.

  “Yeah, just having a meltdown. The dog dared to take his squeaky toy back from her.” I hear him take a deep breath. “Sis, please, just be careful. I’m a guy, and I know most guys. This has tears written all over it if you don’t watch yourself.”

  “Okay.” I try to sound as though I understand, and we sign off.

  I take one quick look in the mirror before heading out the door. I’m wearing the sexiest thing I brought: a low-cut black tank top with spaghetti straps and a short blue jean skirt paired with my boots. I debated bra or no bra and decided to throw caution to the wind and see how crazy I can make Garrett while we eat dinner.

  I half skip down the dirt trail toward the dining area. It’s nice out tonight so we will eat outside again. I hear the hum of low voices ahead, and my heart beats faster knowing I’m getting close.

  They have a cocktail hour before dinner but I’m not much of a drinker, and I needed a good shower, so I took my time. There’s some new arrivals today as well. You can spend an entire week here but there’s also an option for a weekend stint, and that’s brought in about six new folks. They were getting out of the shuttle when I made my way back to the cabin.

  Two women looked very much like they were a couple. Judging by the way they were with each other, I’d say it was a fairly new relationship. Then there were two guys who had city written all over them, eager and out of their depth. And two more women. Thirty-somethings, blond, boobs, pretty.

  So, dinner will be more crowded tonight.

  As I come out of the trail, looks like everyone else is already here. One of the guys I saw earlier today spins around and takes an uncomfortably long look at me as I approach, and I’m immediately rethinking my no bra decision.

  “Howdy.” His voice is thick, and I notice what looks like a glass of whiskey in one hand as his glazed eyes rake down my body. “Guess the eye candy has arrived.”

  I scowl and look around, but Garrett isn’t here yet. When I look up, I see Harriet glaring at them, and she motions for me to come toward her, which is my plan. I ignore the new arrivals and continue walking, but the leach reaches out and grabs my arm.

  “Where you going? Just wanted to introduce myself.” I can smell the sweet, sour scent of the whiskey on his breath.

  “Hey!” Harriet is up on her feet, but I motion to her that I’ve got this. She looks wary but stays put, serving other guests at the buffet line.

  “Let go of my arm or I’m going to shove it up your ass.” One thing traveling alone has taught me is you can’t give an inch. Set your boundaries and stick to them, even if you end up pissing someone off.

  “Whoa! Don’t overreact, sweetheart.” He laughs, looking around at his friend, who steps forward smiling. “She’s got spirit.”

  The muscles in my core tense and tunnel vision takes over. I twist my arm, but he furrows his brow and holds steady.

  “You have three seconds before I knock your teeth out with your balls, because I’m going to kick them so hard, they will fly out of your mouth.”

  “Sorta bitchy.” His friend offers as I let loose.

  I jerk my arm back from his grip while cocking my other fist back and tense my muscle ready to knock his stupid nose crooked. I’m ready for the impact, but suddenly my body is lifted away, leaving my punch undelivered when another hand takes hold of that arm from behind.

  Squirming and twisting, I’m just about ready to knock heads together when both my arms are released, and Garrett steps in between me and the pair of losers.

  “Get your stuff,” he orders, puffing up to the two men. “You’re leaving.”

  “What?” Whiskey guy chuckles. “I’m not fuckin’ leaving. We just got here. Who the fuck are you?”

  “I’m the guy that is going to show you a Montana beatdown if you aren’t in your cabin packing your shit before I count to five.”

  “I got this.” I inch forward and step to the side, then stop when I see the fury in Garrett’s eyes.

  He grumbles toward me. “Yeaup, well you may have, but this is my place, so I’ve got it now.” He turns back to the two. “We can play this out two ways. This is my place. If I feel you are a danger of any kind to anyone here, any animal or my property, I have the right to kick your asses off, and I am exercising that right. Check the agreement you signed. And I am more than happy to assist in that ass-kicking in more ways than one.”

  They look from Garrett to Buck, who is now standing at Garrett’s shoulder, hovering about four inches above him and holding about another hundred pounds. He’s the definition of the silent type; I haven’t seen or heard him speak since I arrived, but he makes a very clear statement without words.

  The guy who grabbed me glares at them both but raise his hands in retreat. “It’s cool. No more problems, we’ll just eat our dinner and—”

  “Nope.” Garrett cuts him off, shaking his head. “The van will be running and ready to take you to the airport in twenty minutes. You better be standing out front, or I’ll drag you from the back of my horse all the way there. Now go. Get your shit packed. I’m not fucking kidding.”

  I hear Buck clear his throat and glance over to see him cross his arms. I thought Garrett was big, but Buck makes him look average. Buck wears a beige cowboy hat that covers his sandy colored hair. His face is more square than Garrett’s, with a protruding brow and a crooked scar on his chin. He looks like the kind of man that could crush a skull in one hand and pet a kitten with the other.

  The two guys look at each other, spit out some expletives, but move down the trail toward their cabin.

  Garrett turns to Buck, tipping his head in their direction. “Make sure they stick to the task. I’ll tell Jessie to get the van. You got your phone?” Buck nods, and Garrett finishes. “Book the next flight out for them.”

  With that, my heart is pounding, and Garrett reaches down and takes my hand, gripping my fingers hard.

  “Hey,” I protest. “I didn’t need the whole white knight, cowboy superhero thing, you know. Nothing was going to happen. I’ve traveled all over the world. I’ve taken care of myself in a lot worse situations than that.”

  He doesn’t answer. Instead, he pulls me along, stopping for a moment to lean down and give Jessie the instructions to get the van around front for a run to the airport. She nods, takes a last bite of the meal on her plate and makes her way to
ward the parking area in front of the dining hall.

  With my hand in his, he guides us behind the dining hall, down a dirt trail and inside the back door of the big main house at the top of the hill.

  “I’m hungry,” I snap, because it’s true and when I’m hungry my fuse is short. “I need to eat dinner.”

  “You’ll get your dinner.” He leads me inside. When I glance at him, I see the veins in his neck standing out. “But you’re not eating in front of everyone dressed like that.”

  “What?” I snatch my hand from his as he closes the door behind us. “So, you’re telling me how to dress now?”

  Inside, the kitchen is big and open. A long wooden table centers the room and cabinets line the walls in a soft, warm wood. An enormous cast iron stove anchors one wall. As I look through the room, it opens into a living area with a high ceiling and a stone wall. Hanging on the wall are probably twenty old leather saddles and pictures of what must be Garrett and his family on horseback, with cattle, sitting at the same long table, eating and smiling at the camera.

  “You’re beautiful. But I’m an old-fashioned guy. Some of you is for my eyes only. And what you are showing off with this outfit?” He shakes his head, reaching up to push his black hat back on his head. “That’s mine and not for everyone’s eyes.”

  I start to clap back and tell him off, but the way he says it doesn’t sound misogynistic, more paternal. And, truth is, I’d never have dressed like this anywhere else. It was for him, it just backfired.

  I roll my eyes but drop the fight. “You think you overreacted a little bit? With those guys?”

  “They can’t be gentleman, neither will I.” He must sense my retreat because his voice lowers, and he reaches out to twirl some of my hair in his fingers. “Okay. Now, I’m going to get you a shirt to put over that. Then we’re going to go back and eat dinner.” His blue eyes sparkle. “I’m sorry, baby. You bring out the animal in me.”

  GARRETT

  WE MAKE IT BACK TO dinner in a few minutes, then I step over to Harriet while Mary Beth chats and takes notes with some of the other guests for her article. Jessie corrals the two city-slickers into the back of the van, I see them glaring my way, but I let it slide this time. If necessary, I’m ready and raring to go if they push it, but I’m not going to make a scene unless one’s needed.

  “Got a little over the top there, big boy.” Harriet kids, brushing some crumbs off my shirt.

  “Maybe.” I glance over my shoulder, watching Mary Beth interact. Buck is there, sitting with the small group. Mary Beth smiles and asks my nearly mute friend a direct question, forcing him to talk.

  He’s quiet for a long moment. Then he starts to talk like he’s been saving up words for just the right moment. He’s talking with his hands, running down some history of the ranch and the town.

  I turn back to my sister, who’s fussing with her turquoise earring. I look at Mary Beth then back at Harriet, shaking my head. “She’s something different.”

  “Yup.” Harriet laughs, running her hands down the front of her apron. “All kinds of different. I ain’t seen you square up like that since the time William Percy made a ‘your mamma’ joke when you took me to the fair that summer. God, since then I don’t remember you so much as raising your voice, let alone your fists.” She raises her eyebrows, and I narrow my eyes in response.

  “You got things covered for the rest of the night?” We usually meet up for coffee after dinner and talk about the next day’s plans, but tonight I’m impatient and have other things on my mind.

  “Sure, brother.” She wrinkles her nose and tugs on her ponytail. “Just don’t go raging on any more guests. I don’t want this to be the Big Sky Dude Ranch and Rumble resort.”

  “They got what was coming to them.”

  “Uh huh. I reckon someone else got something comin’ to ‘em.”

  “I like her. Can’t lie.”

  Harriet’s closer to Mary Beth’s age than mine. She’s my blood cousin, to tell the truth. My parents adopted her when her mom got pregnant and decided being a mom wasn’t in her deck. They loved her like she was their own, so it was easy for me to do the same. Far as I’m concerned, she’s my sister in every way that counts.

  She has a small house on the east side of the ranch, and it’s nice to have her close, but we still enjoy our separate lives. She’s always been a cook and a gardener as well. I’ve taken to the gardening with her in the last few years, developing my own green thumb and a nice hobby.

  Every fall I can pickles, green beans and whatever else we can put up from the harvest. She even posted a picture on the dude ranch website of me in the kitchen, wearing one of her orange polka dot aprons, surrounded by a hundred Ball glass jars filled with beats and beans.

  “Sounds like you’ve got plans.” She smacks my chest. “I’m happy for you both.”

  She has long curly red hair and freckles everywhere. Looks nothing like me and never seems to have a bad day. But there’s also a no-nonsense attitude, and she’s not afraid to check me when it’s needed, without reservation.

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself.” I take a deep breath, knowing it’s me who needs to rein it in.

  She snaps her tongue in her cheek with an incredulous smirk. “I’ve tried to set you up with every prospect I could find for how many years? Half the reason I wanted to start this dude ranch thing was thinking you’d loosen up and have some fun. I’m not complaining if that’s what’s happening here.”

  Harriet has softly pushed me toward a lot of the women that have come to the ranch, but I’ve rebuffed her attempts every time. Never felt right. No one felt right.

  Until Mary Beth.

  Now everything feels right.

  I look over and see some of the guests leaving the picnic table and Mary Beth writing in her notebook, so I wander over near her and run my hand down the back of her hair, tugging at it playfully until she looks up at me standing over her.

  “Yassssss?”

  “Come on.” I jerk my head toward the house.

  “Well, where on earth are we going?” She uses her best Scarlett O’Hara eyelash flutter and southern drawl, and I hear Buck chuckle, then excuse himself and walk toward Harriett.

  “You’re about to find out, Filly.”

  I nod and tip my hat to the other guests as I guide her from the tables and back up toward the house. My dick is already planning all the obscene ways he’s going to make her mine.

  EIGHT

  Garrett

  I’VE NEVER BROUGHT a woman into my home. I mean, other than friends or family.

  Never for this. I never thought much about it, but having her here is my claiming. Under my roof.

  Which I want to be our roof. And I’m planning all the ways I’m going to make that happen.

  There was no way when the van arrived with our guests this week I would have imagined I’d have turned into this man. My life wasn't lonely, not by my description. I worked. Had family and friends, sure, but being alone suited me.

  Until now.

  Now, I can’t imagine not having her around. In such a short time, she’s woven herself down into the very fiber of my being, and I’ll pull out every stop to figure out how to put our lives together.

  I lead her straight through the house and down the hall to my bedroom, unable to think clearly beyond getting her here.

  Under me.

  On top of me.

  It’s taking whatever willpower I have left to not strip that short skirt off her and slake this hunger I have. Merciless and greedy, it lives inside of me now, imagining all the ways I’m going to fuck her, make her call my name and score my flesh with her fingernails.

  Since my parents passed, I’ve lived alone here, never feeling the place needed anything. Now that she’s here, wandering around my room, picking up my things and putting them back down, I know what I’ve been missing my entire life.

  “So,” she starts. We haven’t spoken a word since we came through the door of the house and
into the bedroom. “What shall we do now?”

  Her eyes sparkle as I shut the door and move toward her, feeling my insides shaking. My brain’s been in a fog since I tasted her and as much as I want to show some self-control, the relentless hunger I have for her may override any gentleness I have left.

  The way she rode my mouth out in the open hints that my Filly has her own wild side, and it’s something I will never try to tame.

  “I’ve got some ideas.”

  She’s a mix of worldly and innocent. I know she’s traveled. She’s independent, able to take care of her world, but I want to do it for her.

  Not because she can’t. Because she deserves someone that will.

  She licks her plump lips as I slide my arms around her waist and tug her body to me, unashamed at letting her know the hardness under my zipper is there and ready for her. It’s as though she’s drawn out a part of me so long hidden, I barely know him myself.

  In my life, working out here, with animals and mother nature, I’ve grown to trust my instincts. And my instincts tell me I’m going to discover parts of myself with her I would have never known without her.

  Parts that claw and rip inside me, trying to get to her. An animalistic need I’ve never felt before. And I hope she will understand. My need to fuck her like she was brought onto this Earth to please me and only me, matched only by my obsessive need to make her mine and keep her with me forever.

  I want to know every thought she has. I want her to share every part of herself with me.

  Even the bad.

  Especially the bad.

  “I want to ask you something.” Her cheeks deepen pink as I release her waist and untie my oversized shirt, sliding it off her shoulders and leaving her in the too thin tank top she wore to dinner.

  “You can ask me anything.” I twist one of the thin black straps with my forefinger, half losing my mind with the need to rip it off her.

  “The first couple days I was here, you wouldn’t even say hello to me. I watched you, you spoke to almost everyone else but me. When you looked at me, it was almost with disdain. I was sure you had an aversion to me.”