The Climax Montana Complete Collection

by Reece Butler

  “We’re going to have a doctor in the family,” said Mr. Frost. His voice was less distinct, as if he’d turned slightly away to tell his wife. “Walter went fishing early this morning,” he said into the phone. “He sends his love to you boys. I’ll give him the good news about you, Doc. He’ll say you’ll come in handy when we get old.”

  “You’re already old,” joked Eric. “Tell Pops I’m going to warn Nikki he’s a hypochondriac.”

  “Tell him yourself when you see him.”

  Though she could tell Eric spoke with teasing affection, she was still appalled at him insulting a father who obviously loved him. She pressed her hand over her suddenly tight chest. She hadn’t yet fully accepted the idea of marriage, especially to two good men. Unlike her own father, Eric and Matt would be there for her and their children. She’d have someone to hold when she came home after a long shift, or when tragedy struck and she could not save a life, no matter how hard she tried.

  It was bad enough to face grieving families in a bustling hospital where the patients were strangers. She dreaded having to tell people she knew that their loved one’s hopes and dreams would never happen. Doing so would still rip her apart, but she’d have strong arms to hold her as she cried. In return, she would love and cherish them all her life.

  “Which of my sons are you going to marry, dear?” The phone had been switched again.

  “Nikki’s marrying me, Mom,” replied Matt. “Nikki likes me best. Don’t you, sweetheart?”

  “Excuse me, but I believe your mother asked me a question,” said Nikki. “And if you two don’t behave, my answer might be neither of you. I’m not going to spend my life with squabbling boys who are old enough to know better.”

  “Aww, Nikki, we only do it ’cause it makes Mom mad,” said Matt. He had a pout suitable for a three-year-old. An erection that proved he was fully grown poked out of his undershorts.

  “For goodness’s sake,” she whispered at him, “at least put some pants on. You’re talking to your parents!”

  “Nothin’ they ain’t seen before,” replied Matt calmly. His eyes crinkled in devilment.

  “I’m sure your mother never saw that!” Nikki pointed.

  “I never could keep clothes on that boy,” said Mrs. Frost with a sigh.

  Nikki thought she heard a smile in the words, but wasn’t sure. This was her only opportunity to make a first impression. She set her jaw and straightened up as if she was a medical resident addressing the head doctor on morning rounds.

  “Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Frost. My name is Veronica Meshevski. I have agreed to marry one of your sons.” She glared as they preened. “Though I’m having second thoughts,” she added with a touch of steel in her voice.

  “You have family, honey?”

  “Just one sister. Marci married Simon and Lance MacDougal a few weeks ago.” She heard someone choking, then muffled words as if the phone was covered.

  “Don’t mind Charlie,” replied Mrs. Frost. “He just never thought those wild MacDougal boys would find a woman to put up with them. When’s the wedding? We’re at a lovely RV park near San Antonio. It’ll take us a week or so to get home from Texas. When do you have to leave again, Eric? We can fly home if we have to.”

  “No rush,” said Eric. “I was thinking of the courthouse in ten days. We can hold the wedding party anytime after that.”

  “Ten days?” asked Nikki, her voice rising. “You didn’t say anything about that.”

  “I was going to, but then you rolled over and—”

  “Eric!”

  His chuckle proved he’d done it on purpose to get her flustered. She balled up her fist and socked him in the belly. He must have expected it as she hit a set of washboards that felt like corrugated iron.

  A long-suffering sigh came out of the speaker. “Nikki, dear?”

  She gave Eric a glare, then shot the same to Matt, who was enjoying it far too much.

  “Yes, Mrs. Frost?”

  “It’s Edna. Please don’t be too hard on my boys. They don’t know much about weddings.” She raised her voice. “It’s the bride who sets the date, Eric, not the grooms. You’ve been on your own too long. You’ve got to think of what your wife wants, before yourself.”

  “I know exactly what Nikki wants,” drawled Eric. “And she’ll be getting it whenever I choose.” He said it with heat that flashed across the room to fire up her nipples and pussy.

  Instead of the shocked gasp that Nikki expected, Edna burst into delighted laughter. Muffled voices suggested she covered the phone and passed on the comment. The phone shifted hands again.

  “Enough of that fooling around,” warned Charlie. “You treat that young lady right or I’ll nail your hide to the barn door. Don’t think I can’t!”

  “Yes, Dad,” said Matt. He pointed at Nikki and mouthed “I’ll nail you to the wall.” He moved his hips just in case she hadn’t understood his meaning.

  “Nikki could use a Montana-style truck for a wedding present,” said Eric. “Her rusty rattletrap got hauled down a creek the other day in a flood. Damn good thing she wasn’t in it.”

  Nikki dropped her jaw at the suggestion of a very expensive gift.

  “And here I was thinking she needed an axe handle to beat you two with,” replied Charlie.

  “An axe handle will do fine,” replied Nikki. She shared her glare between the two snickering men.

  “Edna just jabbed me with her elbow,” said Charlie. “That means we’d best go and start packing. When do you think I can expect a grandchild? A man my age needs something to look forward to.”

  “I’ve already been working on that,” replied Eric smugly. “You should be a grandpa by April.”

  Nikki dropped her head in her hands and groaned.

  “Wait, Edna has something to add.”

  “Nikki? Don’t give up on them, dear. They’re a handful, but worth it. Though it may take you a few years to whip them into shape.”

  “Dad’s sixty-five and you haven’t got him in shape, Mom,” said Matt. “You’d best work harder on him.”

  Charlie began sputtering mild curses in the background. Edna was laughing when she hung up the phone.

  Nikki crossed her arms and stared at her men. Eric mimicked her posture, only he projected a far more dangerous edge. Matt, smiling like the imp he was, toasted her with a glass of orange juice. She turned to Eric.

  “I’m calling Marci from work,” she declared. That way no men would be listening in. “If I’m to be married in ten days, there’s a lot to be done.”

  “I expect Brenda will have everything well on the way,” said Matt. “I figure she’s got all sorts of plans to run by you. And that stitch-and-bitch club that Marci joined? They’ll be jumping on the bandwagon as soon as word gets out.” He shook his head. “Womenfolk love weddings.”

  “Men prefer honeymoons,” said Eric, and headed toward her with determined steps.

  Epilogue

  “Look at all those rug rats. You farmers have been busy.”

  “That’s ranchers,” corrected Eric.

  He didn’t correct Tom’s comment about children. In a few minutes Tom would have a whole different view of life. He kept a close eye on his old friend. Tom wore loose Army fatigues. Lines of pain were drawn on his cheeks. The level of noise erupting from the Climax Community Center didn’t help.

  Officially it was the Saturday morning Well-Child Clinic, but the ranch kids looked upon it as party time. Depending on the work, many of them didn’t see anyone but family during the week. They’d just finished haying, a long, grueling time. The hay was stored before a hail storm, drying winds, or torrential rain could destroy the crop.

  Every kid under the age of five was inside with their mothers. The rest of them pounded and yelled on the playground with their fathers. There were almost twice as many adults outside, of course.

  Tom pointed to a sturdy blonde toddler. She towered over the slender boy on one side, though the husky one on the other was only an
inch shorter than her. Considering she wore a T-shirt and overalls, the only way to tell she was a girl was by the pigtails. He’d put those pigtails on her that morning, though she’d added a princess crown. It was left at home, though she’d brought her stuffed kitty in case she got tired.

  “That girl your ‘rancher son,’ Eric?” asked Tom with more than a dose of sarcasm. “The one you insisted Nikki wasn’t carrying when I dropped you on that mountain so you could pretend to rescue her?”

  Eric gave the wheelchair a kick. Gently, and on the opposite side of his buddy’s injured leg. “Yep, that’s my Lila. She’ll be as tall as her momma. She’s always with Danny and TJ.”

  “TJ?” asked Tom hoarsely. He stared at the three toddlers.

  “That’s what Dot named your son,” said Lance MacDougal.

  Scarred hands gripped the handles of the wheelchair. “I have a son?”

  The children turned to chase a ball. Lila was just like Nikki, and her cousin Danny MacDougal was much like Simon. But the second boy was the spitting image of Staff Sergeant Tom White.

  “You were right about the condom breaking,” said Eric cheerfully. “All it took was one night for Dot to have a little something to remember you by.”

  He rested his hand on Tom’s trembling shoulder. Lance touched Tom’s other side, likely sending energy to calm and heal the man. Eric wasn’t sure what Lance did, but he was grateful for anything that helped Tom recover.

  “How is she?” The croaked whisper was just loud enough for Eric to hear.

  “Dot got really wound up when the two-year mark approached a few weeks back.” Eric knew it would hurt Tom, knowing he wasn’t there for her, but it was the truth. “Nikki said she went from hoping you’d come back, then insisting she had no hold on you. When the days went past without a word, she was always just a hug away from tears.” Eric squeezed Tom’s shoulder. “Sort of like you right about now.”

  “She wants me back, even like this?”

  Lance smacked Tom in the side of the head. It was more for show than anything else. “You damn fool! She wants you any way she can! You’re alive, and here, and that’s what matters.”

  “Hand me those crutches!” Tom struggled to stand. “I’m not going to propose to my woman from a wheelchair.” He got upright, balanced on the wooden sticks, and continued to stare in the room. “Where is she?”

  Marci noticed the men standing outside the door. She spoke to a buxom woman with soft brown hair curling to her shoulders, and pointed. The woman looked, then staggered with her hand over her chest. She took a step toward the door. Lance hauled the door open and the two lovebirds stared for a second.

  “Tommy?” Her white face showed up freckles and a nose red from crying. Her green eyes watered.

  “Oh, my God, Dorothy, you are so beautiful.”

  Dot burst into tears and ran straight at them.

  “Hold him up,” warned Lance just before Tom would have been tackled by a woman two inches shorter and fifty pounds heavier. But she stopped in time, tears streaming down her face.

  “You came back.”

  “Said I would, didn’t I?” Tom sniffed. “Got a bum leg. Might take a while before I can give you that ride in the whirlybird.”

  “I can wait.” She half turned, pointing over her shoulder. “We have a son. He looks just like you.”

  “You named him right.” Another sniff. “Anyone who’d seen me in the Roadhouse that night would’ve figured out PDQ where he came from.”

  “You want to see him?”

  “Not until we have us a talk. Lance said he’ll get the preacher here soon as you say you’re ready.”

  “Ready?”

  “Help me down,” demanded Tom.

  Eric and Lance didn’t argue. They moved the crutches, took his biceps and lowered him. His bad knee couldn’t take the pressure, so they held him just above the ground.

  “Dorothy Sherman, will you be my lawfully wedded wife? I’m all banged up, but—”

  “Oh, yes, Tommy! I do. I mean, I will. Haul him up so I can kiss him!” She grabbed the front of Tom’s fatigues and brought him into a lip-lock.

  Eric took all the oh, baby, I’ve missed you and God I want you he could stand, which was about ten second’s worth.

  “That’s it! Time!” When that wouldn’t work, he smacked Dot on the backside. She shrieked and glared, clutching her right cheek. “Don’t punch me for that Tom, there’s better places to get reacquainted than in the hallway with an audience.”

  Tom looked up. Cheers broke out. He waved sheepishly as Lance helped him into his wheelchair.

  “Dot, why don’t you take Tom to the office,” suggested Eric. “You’ll have more privacy to, ah, talk.”

  “The door locks from the inside. Use it,” added Lance. He nodded at the wall clock. “You’ve got an hour before TJ will be wanting his momma. Now git!”

  Dot lost no time in pushing her man down the hallway.

  “How much you bet there’ll be another of Tom’s kids in this room next year?” suggested Lance, watching them go.

  “Dot’s forty-two,” answered Eric. “But this is Climax. Anything could happen.”

  He glanced in the door. Nikki rested her hand on her lower belly as she watched Susie Peters nurse her newborn son. Eric had proudly stood up with Kenny at their wedding the year before. Marci had been wonderful about helping Susie learn the things she’d never had a chance while growing up.

  Nikki and Marci shared a sisterly look that had Eric nudging Lance.

  “You think our wives have something to tell us?”

  The look Lance gave Marci answered Eric’s question.

  “Don’t tell her,” said Lance smugly, “but she’s carrying our twin sons. They’ll share the ranch, and bring us grandchildren.”

  “What about Danny?”

  Lance shook his head, his face suddenly tight. “He will follow another path. We’ll love him every day while we can.”

  Eric grabbed his arm before he could walk away. “He’s going to die?”

  “Everyone dies, my friend. But in this case, I meant he’ll be a career Army man.” Lance yanked free and, instead of heading outside, went in to join the women and little ones.

  “Poppa!”

  Danny’s exuberant cries were shortly followed by Lila’s demands for her own father. As usual, Eric picked up TJ along with his daughter. It would be a while before Tom could bend to lift his son, but it would happen. Having escaped torture in a hellhole, there was no way he would back down from something as simple as making his body work again.

  * * * *

  “You think our husbands know?” asked Nikki as she watched Eric carry the two children outside.

  “That we’re pregnant?” Marci snorted a laugh. “Let’s hope not. The last time they tried to wrap me in cotton wool. I’m not putting up with it this time around.”

  Sammy and Grant McInnes raced past, chasing a beach ball. Twins ten months older than Nikki’s Lila, they often provided an outlet for her very active daughter. They were chased by Travis Adams, Casey Gibson, and Marsha Taylor, all age four, and Sam Elliott, age three. Sophie Adams, chewing her finger, watched them go by before returning to her blocks.

  “Looks like we’re off the hook for childcare,” said Nikki. “Want a cup of chamomile tea?”

  “No,” answered Marci with a grimace. “I’d rather have coffee, but I don’t dare.”

  Because of the nausea the smell often generated, the percolator was temporarily located in the storage room down the hall. When none of the women were in the early stages of pregnancy, it was moved back to the kitchenette. Needless to say, it spent a lot of time plugged in elsewhere.

  “How’s Simon’s search for those gold nuggets?” asked Nikki quietly. “Or has he given up?”

  “Since Danny was born he’s been too busy to spread out the journals and compare them. It hasn’t stopped him from thinking what he’d do if he found them.”

  “Such as?”

 
“Fixing up the Tanner’s Ford Hotel and turning it into a senior’s home and daycare facility, to start. He says it would bring the older generation together, and give those our age a bit more privacy. The kids would love to be near the old ones, and vice versa.”

  “I’m all in favor of that,” said Nikki.

  It was all well and good having a trio of eager grandparents. They hadn’t had to hire a housekeeper. Once Edna realized she wasn’t stepping on Nikki’s toes, she took over as woman of the house. But no matter how pleasant, three helpful elderly adults made it difficult to find a time and place to let loose with her men. Since Lance and Simon were orphans, Marci didn’t have that problem. Her little sister, however, was very generous with offers to take Lila for visits.

  “Simon’s big dream is to find something other than agriculture to support Climax,” added Marci. “If he ever does find that cask, he wants it used for something that will benefit a lot of people.”

  “Whether he finds it or not, at least he has a dream,” said Nikki.

  “We found ours, didn’t we, sister dear.” Marci nodded toward the window.

  After the hard work of haying, everyone was a little wild. Big, strong men cuddled babies, pushed kids in swings, dangled them from their hands, and gave them piggyback rides. The giant chess and checkers tables were full, as was the craft station.

  Nikki knew life wasn’t perfect. As the town doctor she was privy to the secrets that spoke of pain, heartbreak, and struggles. Not every upstanding citizen was jovial behind closed doors. The ranchers in the valley were close, and supported each other. But outlying farms, ranches, and homes were a different story. Abuse existed, as did hunger, cold, pain, and shame. But Nikki knew most of the people of Climax would do anything they could to support those in need.

  Because that’s how families, and small towns, worked.

  Suddenly she had to get outside. She opened the side door and stepped out. The man who made her shiver in delightful anticipation tossed their daughter high in the air. Her shrieks of delight were echoed by TJ, as Matt was doing the same with the boy.