The Climax Montana Complete Collection

by Reece Butler

  “Maybe there’s things Eric and Matt didn’t know,” he added ominously.

  “Thanks for watching out for me, Mister Tanner. I’ll need a pair, no, two pair of extra-large Tyvek bodysuits.”

  “You got a messy job planned?” he asked as he reached for them.

  “Yes, but it won’t be me doing the work.” She leaned over the counter and lowered her voice. “I don’t think either of those men have cleaned out a hog pen before. I think it will get their attention, and show them what happens to men who act like idiots.”

  His eyes sparkled as he handed over the garments. “You have a problem if I spread the word about that?”

  “Not at all. Enjoy spreading it far and wide.” She was still smiling when she climbed in the quiet truck.

  “Uh-oh,” said Houston when she chuckled. “Something tells me we’re in deep shit.”

  She laughed even harder. “Not until we get home.”

  “Dammit, Lila,” complained Houston. “You don’t have to enjoy this so much.”

  “Yes, I do,” she replied, still smiling as she pulled out onto Main Street. “It’s about time somebody else got in trouble.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “We appreciate you allowing us to visit you, Mr. MacDougal. The girls were excited driving through the mountains. They don’t usually get very far from Bozeman.”

  Lance nodded at Tatiana, the head counselor for the Girls At Risk program. Six were visiting today. Four giggling girls between nine and twelve who couldn’t wait to ride a horse, a bookworm fourteen-year-old, and a pregnant, too-quiet fifteen-year-old. Josh, in his role as sheriff, had provided a police report on Jet and Houston from info Tom dug up. Otherwise the two men wouldn’t have been allowed near the girls. Their presence allowed Brody and Ross to enter a rodeo they’d been looking forward to.

  Tatiana had briefed him earlier in the week. The four youngest were either foster kids or had a parent in jail. Lila provided a strong female role model. Savannah the bookworm and her four younger siblings were brilliant, but their parents had no time for them. Savannah provided housekeeping services as well as that of nanny and cook. She had little time for her passion, which was engineering. She’d come to the attention of the program the second time she’d slashed her wrists. Houston’s civil engineering degree and his sister’s suicide were easy for Tom to discover. Lance had suggested he’d be a good match for her.

  Madison’s attackers had threatened her, and she’d said nothing until her pregnancy was well advanced. She’d told the counselors very little, and refused to speak to the police. Her parents insisted she keep the baby, which they would raise. They were very controlling, which was perhaps why Madison wanted to give her child up for adoption. As Jet’s mother had been the same age when she got pregnant, Lance hoped they’d find a common ground.

  Lila had been over the previous day to help Marci bake. The girls had already had a snack, having left Bozeman two hours earlier. They’d likely sleep all the way home.

  “We’re happy to help out,” he said. “My wife and I weren’t blessed with girls. It’s great to hear children laughing again.”

  “They so rarely get the opportunity to just be children.”

  Lance’s role, like that of Tatiana, was to observe, stepping in only when necessary. Lila had been the one to set the program up. Lance, Simon, and Marci had jumped on the idea. They had the horses, and Marci loved being with the girls. She said it balanced the overdose of testosterone she had to put up with the rest of the time.

  “Houston’s taking the part of the good-natured, teasing older brother,” said Tatiana. “He does it well, and it’s appropriate to this age group. Jet balances that with his quiet intensity. They make a good team.” She nodded to herself. “You said they were hired workers. Will they be here all summer?”

  “That’s up to Lila, though I expect they’ll be here.”

  The first time he’d held her as a baby he’d known Lila would marry and have children one day, but that was all. He didn’t look unless there was a reason. He knew Lila was pregnant from that one peek, when she and Marci had radiated waves of tension. He’d not looked at her since, and wouldn’t without a good reason.

  Marci was helping the smallest girl tack up a horse. It was important for them to see women as successful and confident. He wouldn’t intrude unless Marci needed help. Considering the size of her, and the weight of the saddle, it was time for him to step in.

  “We’re taking a picnic lunch, so I’ll see you later this afternoon,” he said.

  “Perhaps next time I’ll be able to ride along,” she said. “These two need me nearby.”

  Savanna was settled in the porch swing, nose in her engineering book. Madison leaned against the barn, watching the younger girls with longing. At this stage in her pregnancy she not only shouldn’t go on a trail ride, she couldn’t get far from a bathroom.

  * * * *

  Lila nodded encouragingly at Kayla. The nine-year-old absorbed every word quietly. Chloe, also nine, was the opposite. Jet was helping Jessica, who at twelve years of age was flirting as if she was a decade older. Houston had Brianna, an outgoing, athletic eleven-year-old.

  “I brought one of Brody’s shirts for you, Jessica,” said Lance. He held out a long-sleeved cotton shirt. “You might get chilly at the higher elevations.”

  She flicked her eyes toward Jet, to gauge his reaction.

  “Good idea,” said Jet, nodding. “It’ll also help prevent sunburn. You don’t want your pretty skin to be all red and sore.”

  Jessica accepted the compliment and the shirt. The girl wore a push-up bra, lace showing under a very low V-neck T-shirt two sizes too small. The bigger shirt would also bridge the gap between her T-shirt and her jeans, covering her inappropriate clothing without making an issue of it.

  “Are you wearing a helmet?” she asked Jet. “I mean, aren’t they childish?”

  The other girls shot her looks but didn’t say anything.

  “I would if I was riding along,” said Jet seriously. “Houston and I aren’t as good riders as Mister MacDougal and Ms. Frost. There’s a lot of rock up there. If you get tossed, you want your brain protected. And your arms,” he added, motioning to the shirt she’d just put on.

  “Your noggin isn’t worth protecting,” joked Houston. Jet gave him a light punch on the shoulder with his fist. “Hey! Miss Lila, Jet hit me!”

  “Don’t they act just like your younger brothers?” Lila rolled her eyes to make the girls giggle. Even shy Kayla smiled.

  “Maybe you should tell them they’ll get a cookie if they behave,” said Brianna. “Mom says that works better than threatening spankings.”

  Jet smirked at the girl’s choice of words. Lila ducked her head, turning her back to adjust the stirrups to hide the furious blush that erupted.

  “Honey works better than vinegar,” said Lance.

  Lila heard a chuckle hiding in his calm voice. If she could meet his eyes, she’d also find them twinkling. She adjusted her hat brim lower on her forehead. She’d taken the brim off an old hat and added a few inches of elastic so it would fit over her helmet. She always wore a helmet when she took children out so everyone had the same protection.

  “Almost ready to mount up?” she asked cheerfully. Houston choked. She realized what she’d said, and her face heated again.

  It would be good to get away from Jet and Houston for a few hours and just be her old self. She loved working with these girls, and had spent many hours at college volunteering with children at risk. You could only study for so many hours without going crazy. She wasn’t into the dating scene after the fiasco of her first few months at school. So she’d put her time to good use, volunteering at a riding stable that gave lower rates to children in the program. These girls had taken enough lessons to be comfortable in the saddle.

  She’d seen girls come into the program, withdrawn, hardly daring to look an adult in the eye. They’d learned to care for their horse, to share a bond and
trust, some for the first time in their lives. She kept in contact with a few of them, sending e-mails of encouragement. One was now a veterinary technician, having dealt with her past and moved on. Others were still in college, something they hadn’t dared to think was possible. They’d learned their true worth, and held their heads up with pride.

  She wanted the same for these girls. There was something wonderful about sitting on the back of a horse. Add in a beautiful day, a picnic, and friends to share the experience with, and it was magic. They could forget their home life and be children.

  She felt that even more today. Seeing Madison, ten years younger and pregnant, made her heart ache. The poor child must be terrified. She herself, with a mother who was a doctor and a supporting, loving family, was scared of being pregnant. She knew she was healthy, and everything should go right. She couldn’t imagine going through this at fifteen. Lance said the girl insisted on giving up her child, so it would have a better chance at life.

  She pressed her lips together, clearing tears. That a child should have to make such a mature decision was not right. She hoped today brought a little joy to Madison and the others. It made her refusal to marry Jet seem so selfish. She pushed the thought away for consideration later. These girls needed a hundred percent of her attention.

  “All right, who’s ready for some fun?”

  * * * *

  Jet stood beside Madison, waving as the younger girls rode away. Lila was first in line, which meant Lance rode last. Jet hadn’t missed the shotgun in his scabbard. All six horses wore big jingle bells on their saddles. The girls thought it was to help find the horses if they wandered off. In reality, it was for bears and mountain lions. Considering how much noise four happy little girls could make, any predators would hear them well in advance and get out of the way.

  “We could sit inside and play cards or a board game,” he suggested to Madison. “There’s these huge windows that look up to the mountains. Or we could just sit and snooze.”

  “I’m a bit old for a nap,” she replied, though she let Jet guide her up the porch steps and inside.

  He grabbed a plate of cookies and a couple glasses of lemonade on his way through the kitchen.

  “There’s a two-piece washroom,” said Jet, pointing it out. “I’ll be in the family room, just beyond. Why don’t you look around for a bit while I set these down.”

  Madison joined him a few minutes later, looking relieved. She walked around the room, hands clasped behind her back, investigating everything. The family pictures, the bucket of kids toys for when youngsters visited, the giant sword over the fireplace. Jet shuddered, not wanting anything to do with the ancient weapon. She went to the windows and looked up, toward the white-tipped mountains.

  “I want my baby to grow up in a home like this,” she said quietly.

  Since she had opened the discussion, it was up to Jet to take it farther. Lance had briefed him on Madison’s situation. He didn’t like baring his soul, but this girl needed all the hope she could get. He wouldn’t lie, but he could tell the best version of the truth.

  “My mother was your age when she got pregnant with me. She signed papers and left me at the hospital because she wanted me to be adopted by a good family.”

  “My parents want to keep my baby. Do you think I’m wicked for wanting to give it up?”

  “Did you choose to get pregnant?” he asked gently.

  She shook her head. He could see her reflection. She was fighting tears.

  “You want your baby to have a good start, one that is not contaminated by how he or she was created.”

  She wrapped her arms around herself, head bowed. He walked near, arms loose. He was there if she wanted a hug, but he would not reach for her. He did not want to trigger something from her attack. He thought of his adoptive family. They were all he had as a child, so of course he’d loved them even though they’d treated him badly. He’d hated them when they left, yet still wanted them back.

  “It’s possible to love someone,” he said quietly, “and not want anything to do with them.”

  She turned. Tears streamed from her eyes. “You understand!”

  He nodded. He made a slight motion with his hands, opening himself. She took a hesitant step, then another. And then he held a teenager who should have been laughing and playing with friends, rather than facing a life-changing decision. The top of her head barely came up to his nipples. A child having a child, and not by choice.

  Tatiana, the head counselor, stepped into the doorway from the kitchen. He could see her, but Madison couldn’t. The counselor raised her eyebrows in question. He nodded that it was all good. She backed out of the way, but he was sure she stayed within earshot.

  “What do you want to take in college?” he asked when Madison calmed enough to release her tight grip. He said it as if college was assumed. He hadn’t had the opportunity.

  “I want to teach high school English and history, but my parents insist I live at home and take a one-year secretarial course.”

  “Why?”

  “My father wants me to stay home and be his secretary.”

  Jet held back a furious groan. “And your mother?”

  “If I’m doing all the housework and cooking, as well as my father’s secretarial stuff, she can do whatever she wants. I’m already their unpaid housekeeper,” she added quietly.

  “Why would they want to keep your baby?”

  Her jaw was set when she looked up at him. This was no child. Not anymore.

  “A baby would tie me to them. I wouldn’t be able to leave because I wouldn’t have job experience, or much education. They’d have a built-in servant for life.”

  And she’d have a constant reminder of the attack that had led to her pregnancy, and the destruction of her dreams. The baby would grow up in a stew of bitterness and pain.

  “Madison,” he said quietly, looking deep into her eyes, “you are a far better parent right now, deciding to give your child a better chance at life, than the two you are living with. You are an amazing person.”

  Her eyes filled. Had his mother made the same decision, for the same reason? Was he a child born of rape? Or were his parents teenagers who got carried away, as Lila had with Houston?

  “Today isn’t the end of this,” said Jet. “I might only be here for a few weeks, but there has to be something I can do to help.”

  “You’re a big, strong cowboy,” she said, suddenly shy. “Maybe you could visit me, and flex your muscles at my dad.”

  Tatiana, back in the doorway, shook her head, though Jet knew a visit wasn’t possible.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea. But if you want me to be there, with your counselor and parents when you sign the forms, I will.”

  “He won’t hit me if you’re there.”

  The counselor’s wide eyes suggested the physical abuse must be news to her.

  “He better not even think of hitting you, or verbally abusing you, again.” Jet took a calming breath. He hated people who hurt kids. “Tell you what. We’re going to get a picture of you and me today. Your parents will be able to see how big I am, with my arm around you. Tell them I was a soldier for a long time.” He winked. “I know how to hurt people where it doesn’t show.”

  Madison laughed, thinking it was a joke. The counselor looked thoughtful. It was no joke to Jet. This little girl now had a champion. He would be looking into what had happened to her, why, and what was being done about it. Maybe she’d open up to him about her attack.

  “I, um, better wash my face,” she said.

  The counselor joined him while the girl was in the bathroom.

  “I guess you didn’t know about the parental abuse?”

  “No,” said Tatiana. “Madison just said more to you than she has to anyone before. Are you serious about helping her?”

  “As long as I’m in Montana, yes. “

  “Why?”

  “I spent ten years in the foster system. I don’t like abuse, or adults treating
their children as property.”

  “Good. We’ll be in touch.”

  She melted away before Madison returned. When the girl came out she looked far more relaxed. She went for the cookie plate.

  “Uno or Go Fish?” asked Jet, figuring he could handle either.

  Madison looked at the shelves under the window, full of board games. Her eyes lit up.

  “Scrabble!”

  * * * *

  Houston rubbed another dose of cream into his face after the riding party left. He then took his cane, leaning on it more than necessary, and made his way to the porch. He went directly to the plate of cookies and jug of lemonade. He filled two glasses. The plate was plastic, so he put it on his head. He hung his cane over his arm and slowly made his way toward Savannah. She pretended she didn’t see him, but he was well experienced at seeing without people noticing. He stopped in front of her and held out the glass.

  “No, thank you,” she said without looking up.

  “I can’t bend over to put it down, and I can’t take the plate of cookies off my head unless you empty one of my hands. So, could you put down the fluid dynamics book before I give you a practical application of fluid in motion?”

  All she moved was one eyebrow.

  “As in,” he continued pleasantly, “I will pour this glass of lemonade in your lap.”

  She took the glass. He took the cookies off his head, and slumped in the seat to her left.

  “That book’s not bad,” he said, “though it explains things in a rather convoluted fashion.”

  “I thought you were just the ranch mechanic.”

  It was an accusation, slamming him for interrupting her and putting him down for his lack of education at the same time. He liked her spirit.

  “Yeah, I spent years in the army working on machines. I also happen to have a degree in civil engineering.” He bit into a cookie. “Got any questions?” he asked with his mouth full.

  “Why are you a mechanic if you have a degree in engineering?”