by Emily Mayer
Much to my dismay, once on the plane, Rodney chose the seat directly across from mine and immediately tried to lure me into a conversation. Even the pre-flight speech one of the two flight attendants who would be assisting with our flight was in the process of giving didn’t deter him.
“So Evelyn, Ben tells me you’re also an attorney. Quite the career change—going from attorney to executive assistant, I mean.”
“It was. I think I made the right decision though,” I responded, purposely trying to keep my answers simple enough not to warrant a follow-up question.
“Got tired of spending all your time in the basement with us bottom-feeders, huh?” Rodney said with a chuckle.
I knew that, in reality, Rodney had a large office with windows facing the Chicago River and a view of Millennial Park.
“My new office is a little bit nicer than my cubicle in the basement.” I managed to force a smile.
While one flight attendant instructed us where the emergency life vests were located, the other appeare with coffee, saving me from having to continue the conversation with Rodney. I sipped my coffee and tried to close my eyes the rest of the fight, only joining in the conversation when I had to.
“You seem deep in thought, Evelyn. Care to share?” Rodney asked, leaning forward in his seat to address me as the pilot finished his reminder to buckle our seat belts as we prepared for our descent.
“Just trying to remember whether I turned off the coffee pot,” I responded, hoping I sounded friendly and not nervous. I was not a good flier. Planes just seemed liked airborne coffins that could drop out of the sky in a fiery inferno of death at any minute. Smaller planes were even worse. To be fair, I’m not sure a corporate jet counts as small, but it didn’t feel as steady as a commercial airplane.
I peered anxiously out the window, searching for any sign of a runway as the plane began to make its descent. The horizon was filled with trees, and it seemed almost impossible that a runway could be lying somewhere below. Just as I was beginning to really worry, I saw a tiny strip of cement appear in between the trees. I watched as it got closer and closer, growing steadily larger but still not looking wide or long enough to be a runway. I closed my eyes, gripping the armrests, until I felt the familiar jolt of the plane landing safely.
Opening my eyes, I saw that the ‘airport’ was actually little more than a four-lane road with a few buildings at the far end. Ben unfastened his seatbelt and smiled at us.
“Welcome to Montana,” he said, gesturing toward the door like a game show host.
I turned my attention back to the window and watched as two men wearing bright orange vests appeared from one of the buildings and moved toward the plane. Parked at the far end of the runway near the row of buildings was a large black truck with a man leaning casually against the front, watching the scene unfold. I wondered if this was the famous brother I had spent an embarrassing amount of time fantasizing about since my internet stalking last night.
The thud of the staircase hitting the ground jolted me back to the moment, and I realized Ben and Rodney were gathering their things and making their way to the exit. I unbuckled my seatbelt and slipped my jacket on. I focused on climbing out of the plane without tripping. It was harder than I expected – my attention was divided between avoiding Rodney’s helping hands and the figure slowly approaching the plane.
Ben walked out to meet the man and wrapped him in a quick embrace. Rodney and I followed behind Ben like ducklings behind a mama duck while the “ground crew” started to unload our luggage. When the two men separated, I took the opportunity to covertly examine the man I assumed was the former rodeo star while he was distracted. My eyes traveled up denim covered thighs that definitely looked like they were capable of holding onto an angry bull for eight seconds, to a button-up chambray shirt stretched across broad shoulders. I swallowed, as my eyes traveled the rest of the distance up to a face that left me feeling slightly dazed. Everything about him seemed to be just a little bit more than Ben somehow. He was just a little taller than Ben, his brown hair a few shades darker, his muscles a little broader everywhere, and he made my heart do something wildly erratic it had absolutely never done for Ben.
“Rodney, this is my brother, Jack. He looks a little rough around the edges, but don’t be fooled—the man has a head for business.” Ben smiled broadly as the two men shook hands.
I braced myself for one of Rodney’s speeches, but it seemed Rodney was also busy sizing up the newcomer to our party, and he responded with a courteous hello. I didn’t know the man was even capable of limiting himself to just one word.
“Jack, this is my executive assistant, Evelyn. I decided I couldn’t do without her this trip.” Putting one hand between my shoulders, Ben propelled me forward.
I took Jack's reluctantly extended hand and shook it firmly, trying to maintain a confident smile. Judging by the scowl on his face, he was not pleased at the news of an unexpected guest, but I was determined not to let my nervousness show.
“It’s nice to meet you, Jack,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady and resisting the urge to break eye contact. His brown eyes were warm despite his obvious displeasure. Somewhere in my mind the roughness of his hand registered—which seemed like a strange thing to notice, all things considered.
He responded with a curt nod and dropped my hand like it was diseased. Ben directed us toward the truck where our pile of luggage was stacked and waiting to be loaded. I listened as Ben and Jack made small talk about the ranch and the flight here, with the occasional interjection from Rodney.
Jack made quick work of folding back the bed cover and began loading our luggage into the truck while Rodney and Ben hopped into the cab, deep in conversation about the procurement clauses they had been discussing on the flight. In an attempt to earn myself some type of goodwill, I reached for one of my suitcases and tried to swing it over the side of the truck into the bed. But my swing came up short, and the large bag came tumbling over the edge toward me. I lunged, trying to simultaneously shield myself from the wayward bag and catch it before it hit the ground. I heard myself grunt as I fumbled, trying to control the avalanche of bag tumbling toward me. What did I even pack that was this heavy?
“Evelyn, get in the truck before you kill yourself. Let Jack get the bags,” Ben called from the passenger-side window.
“It’s fine,” I half-mumbled, half-yelled, “they just always put these handles in such awkward spots. No one’s arms work like this.” I swung the bag with more force this time, successfully clearing the side of the truck. Avoiding everyone’s eyes, I slid into the cab.
So much for goodwill, I thought.
Rodney seemed to have found his voice and was busy describing his last wilderness adventure—where he had managed to land a “real nice twelve-point buck;” mounted the antlers in his office, even—to his captive audience. Literally, we were captive, or at least I felt captive, since hopping out of the truck to watch Jack load luggage didn’t seem like much of an alternative. I rolled my eyes, facing the window, and thought of plausible scenarios in which Rodney actually killed a large deer. I knew the most believable explanation was that he’d hit the poor creature with his Jaguar on the way home from a steak dinner.
Jack joined us just in time to catch the end of Rodney’s story and even he looked a little skeptical. He made a noncommittal noise that was mostly drowned out as the truck’s engine roared to life.
“Rodney, the hunting out here is unbelievable—right, Jack? We get all kinds of sportsmen during the various seasons. In fact, we used to host some of the parties. Jack can take you out if you’re interested. I don’t have the patience or I would offer,” Ben hastened to explain, shrugging his shoulders at the obviously irritated looks coming from his brother.
“Yeah, that would be great. I bet you have a lot of big game out here. Better than deer. Do you ever get any wolves?” Rodney asked.
I glared at him, not even trying to hide my disgust. As far as I was concerned, wol
ves were the dogs of the forest, and I loved dogs. Jack peered at him through the rearview mirror; I thought I saw his lip curl a little before he answered.
“No, we don’t get a lot of wolves. People around here let them be unless they give us trouble. You’re looking at a lot of elk and moose. Someone gets a bear on occasion,” Jack responded evenly.
“Now a bear would be something. We don’t get many in Illinois, huh?” Rodney said, slapping the back of Ben’s seat, totally oblivious to the shift in mood.
I was grateful to be excluded from this particular conversation, and used the opportunity to give the rapidly changing scenery outside the window my full attention. I could tell we were gaining elevation. There would be sudden breaks in the tree cover where rocky patches peeked through, seeming to slope down into smaller patches of green. Everything seemed to be bigger. This is why they call it big sky country. I saw the reflection of my smile in the window.
“Hey, Evelyn are you still with us?” Ben asked from the front seat. “You’re awfully quiet back there.”
“Just taking in the view,” I answered, smiling at him. “What type of trees are those—the bigger ones that look like… like they have a Christmas tree on top of them?”
“Lodgepole pine,” Jack responded, not even bothering to glance my way.
“Oh.” I was startled by his response, even though I should have known he would be one of two people in the truck likely to answer. “I don’t think I know that one.”
Of course you don’t. I chastised myself for sounding like an idiot. You wouldn’t have asked if you had known. Why, why, why could I not just answer like a normal human being? I looked back out the window, hoping no one would see the slight reddening of my cheeks. The trees were so tall I had to crane my neck with my face pressed very close to the glass to see their tops. Some of the pines seemed to have a golden hue that reminded me of marigolds, and the green and brown landscape was punctuated with bright purple. One of my hands came to rest on the edge of the window. Montana might not turn out to be the total wasteland I had been imagining, but I was still convinced being stuck with two disgruntled Danvers and Rodney was going to be torture.
5.
My gaze remained fixed on the landscape for the rest of the ride. I was in awe of all the vibrant colors. I had thought of Montana as being all tall grass and flat land. This was an entirely new part of the country to me, and I couldn't help smile at the discovery.
When it appeared, as if out of nowhere, the house looked like it had always been a part of the landscape. The front of the house rose to a point, like an A-frame, and appeared to be one big window made to overlook the mountains. The rest of the house stretched outwards from both sides of the large window and was composed of a combination of wood and stone siding. A large porch on one side of the house was lined with rockers and dotted with window boxes filled with bright flowers. It looked like a home you would see on the front of a magazine.
I noticed several barns and fenced-in areas just behind the house, which I assumed were for animals. Closer to the house was what appeared to be a large garden and a chicken coop. There was not one single part of the sprawling ranch that I didn’t immediately love. It felt strangely like coming home.
The truck's driver, however, didn’t seem to share my enthusiasm. In fact, I didn’t think he had cracked even the tiniest smile since greeting his brother back at the airport.
As the truck approached the house, the front door swung wide open and a woman walked onto the porch and waved. A large dog was right on her heels, managing to sneak out of the door just before it closed. The dog raced to the end of the porch and began to howl. The woman swatted good-naturedly at the dog in what I guessed was an attempt to stop the howling. I smiled at the scene.
When the truck came to a stop, both the woman and the dog came bounding toward it. When Ben stepped out, the woman immediately wrapped him up in a hug. The hound dog was enthusiastically jumping and drooling on Jack, who was trying to remind him he had only been gone for a couple of hours. I circled around the back of the truck to stand beside Rodney, because standing next to Rodney actually seemed like a more appealing option than being alone on the other side with Jack.
"I’m so glad you’re here, Ben! Break your mother's heart, staying away so long," she said, pulling back to smile up at him.
"I know, I know. I should have come home sooner," Ben responded affectionately, pulling her into another hug and kissing the top of her head.
"I’m sure you remember our attorney, Rodney," Ben said, extending his arm in Rodney's direction.
She took Rodney's hand and smiled warmly. "Of course. It’s good to see you again, Rodney." I thought I heard a hint of forced friendliness in her voice.
"Thanks for having me. You have a beautiful home," Rodney responded enthusiastically, shaking her hand.
"And who do we have here?" she asked, turning her gaze toward me. Normally, I would have been uncomfortable with the attention shifting to me, but everything about the woman exuded warmth. Her short brown hair had hints of grey just peeking through in some places, and she had those tiny wrinkles at the corners of her eyes that only come from smiling often. She was a lot shorter than either of her children, but she had the same rich brown eyes.
"Mom, this is Evelyn, my new assistant. She’s great, you’ll love her. Sorry to surprise you with an extra guest, but I didn't think I would ever talk her into coming." Ben winked at me like this was some joke we shared.
"Well, surprise or not, we’re glad to have you here, Evelyn," she said, her warm smile never faltering.
I took her hand, easily returning her smile. "It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Danver. Ben didn't actually tell me I had the option of not coming. I’m sorry if I’m an unexpected guest."
"Oh, no need to apologize! We have plenty of rooms and I love having guests. But please—call me Mary. You’re going to be here for a while and ‘Mrs. Danver’ will get tiresome for everyone," she responded graciously.
A brown blur rounded the truck enthusiastically greeting Ben before smashing its nose into my leg, almost knocking me to the ground. I reached for the side of the truck to steady myself and looked down to see the dog from the porch peering up at me, his tail wagging furiously behind him. I couldn’t help laughing as I dropped to my knees to greet the adorable little guy. I was met with enthusiastic kisses and head butts.
"Hello, you handsome boy. You are just the sweetest thing, aren't you? Yes you are. I just love you already," I said, scratching his ears and underneath his chin.
"I think the feeling is mutual," Ben laughed. "Hank Williams, give the poor girl a break!"
"I don't mind. His name is Hank Williams? Like the 'I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry' Hank Williams?"
"The howling and big ears reminded Jack of Hank Williams. Their granddad was a big Hank Williams fan—the musician, not the dog," Mary explained.
I stood, only to have Hank Williams lay down across the top of my feet, making it impossible for me to take a step. I shrugged my shoulders in response to the laughter the dog's theatrics elicited.
"Well, I hope you like that dog more than I do, because I think you have a new boyfriend," Ben said, still chuckling.
"What can I say? It was love at first sight for us both," I said, stooping down to give his belly some pets.
“Why don’t we head inside? I’m sure you’ll all want to get settled before dinner. Don’t worry about the bags. Jack can have some of the guys take them to your rooms. Jack, put Evelyn in the lilac room. I think she might like her own bathroom,” Mary said, turning toward the house.
“Up, Hank Williams,” Jack ordered.
Hank popped up and trotted behind Jack toward the barn, releasing my feet. The inside of the house had the same warm, beautiful design as the outside. The entryway had a nook for coats and boots, and it was currently occupied by several hats and two dusty coats. Beyond the entry, a large staircase wound up to the second floor where part of the hallway was visible, lined with
framed pictures. Just to the right of the staircase a large stone chimney climbed the wall of a cozy living room. Everywhere I looked, warm woods lined the floors, walls, or bookcases. It had a Joanna Gaines feel to it that I loved.
"I’m sure you can show Rodney and Evelyn to their rooms while I finish dinner," Mary instructed Ben.
"I think I remember where everything is," Ben responded playfully, earning him a smile and small laugh from his mother, who very obviously adored her oldest son.
"Actually Mrs… Mary, would you mind if I followed you to the kitchen? I forgot my water on the plane," I asked.
"Of course! The kitchen is this way—you’re always welcome to help yourself, Evelyn," Mary replied, motioning for me to follow her down the hallway just to the left of the stairs.
I noticed a large office on the right, whose large windows overlooked the barns and fenced-in areas. It was the perfect place for the office. I hoped it would be where we would be working during our stay.
"You really do have a beautiful home," I said, echoing Rodney's earlier sentiments but without the extra helping of creepy.
"Thank you. It was truly a labor of love! My husband was a big dreamer, and I’d like to think I kept him grounded. When he got the idea to move to the ranch fulltime, I absolutely refused to go along with him unless he convinced me this wasn’t just a passing fancy. So, he built me a house. Nothing says permanent like a house."
"I would say this house is a pretty compelling argument. And I can see where Ben got his negotiation skills."
Mary laughed as we entered the kitchen. In contrast to the dark earth tones the rest of the house was decorated with, the kitchen was a bright yellow with white cabinets that made the entire room seem open and inviting. I suspected a great deal of time was spent in this room, gathered around the breakfast bar lined with stools or the large farm-style table just beyond the cooking area.