The Climax Montana Complete Collection

by Reece Butler

  “I’m so glad to meet someone my size,” said the much older woman. “I get tired of looking up.” She patted the bag. “I brought a few things I don’t wear anymore. Help yourself.” She looked around, nodding with appreciation. “You’ve been busy. It’s about time someone cared about this home.”

  Katie reluctantly left the bag closed. She was the hostess, though Marci likely knew the home far better. “Would you like some coffee or tea?”

  “Tea would be lovely. I’ve got a ginger cake in the truck. I’ll be right back.”

  Katie put the kettle on, set out newly washed plates and forks, and then peeked in the bag. She lifted out a crisp white top trimmed in lace, and a fuchsia skirt. She held it up against her, discovering it ended a couple of inches above her knees. If only she could get her butt into it and the zipper closed. Baggy sweats were comfortable, but certainly not sexy.

  “Some say redheads shouldn’t wear that color, but I hear you’ve got the attitude to wear pretty much anything you want,” said Marci. She set a cake covered in clear wrap on the table.

  “Who said I have that type of attitude?”

  “Tom, Dorothy, and Stella, to start.” She laughed at Katie’s blush. “Even if I hadn’t heard anything about you, listening to you belt out that song from the bottom of your heart would prove it to me.”

  Her blush got even hotter. “Sorry, I thought I was alone. I don’t usually do that.”

  “You should because you sing really well.” Marci nodded approvingly. “I heard you got the drop on Mr. Safe-and-Secure, Sam Elliott.”

  Of course that story would be all over town. She hoped Trey wouldn’t say anything about the kiss they’d shared. Both times she’d been woken from a deep sleep so neither should be taken against her.

  “I punched Sam in the nose when he startled me,” she admitted.

  “Good! Having a strong sense of yourself is necessary around here. The men are big, strong, and opinionated.” Marci scrunched up her nose, though her eyes danced. “I have two dominant husbands who think they know what’s best for me. I also have a pair of twin sons who need taking down a peg or two on occasion. I want them to find a young woman who can stand up for herself.” She sighed, slumping slightly. “I want grandchildren, but unfortunately Ross and Brody aren’t interested in settling down. Yet.” Her lips flipped around into a grin. “I hear Trey is ready to find a wife now that he’s managed to live to twenty-five. I expect Sam is, too, but he’s too closemouthed to admit it, even to himself. I also hear that both of them find you quite fetching. Do you have a boyfriend or fiancé back home waiting for you?”

  A rush of heat flowed toward Katie’s hairline. She should have realized she’d be big news in a small town. This being a ranching community, the pressure to marry and produce children was high, as Marci had said.

  Katie grew up watching her relatives do almost anything to claw their way up the ladder. She’d learned to ignore their false smiles and lies, instead watching for clues in their eyes and body language. That had come in extremely useful during the last six months. It helped her to judge which patrons to smile at to get a good tip, and which to avoid to save herself from grief. She saw no hidden agenda in Marci. The woman wanted to be a grandmother, but understood her sons weren’t ready. Her tension eased.

  “I’m not interested in marriage.” She added a smile to show she wasn’t insulted.

  “Sorry, no more personal questions,” said Marci apologetically. “I forget you’re from the city where people don’t know each other.”

  She looked so chastened that Katie couldn’t be mad. “There’s no one waiting for me.”

  No one except her grandmother, who she had to e-mail. The others had likely forgotten about her. Out of sight, out of mind, unless one was plotting revenge. Marci held her arms out.

  “I’m a very huggy person. Unless you tell me no, I want one.”

  Strong arms wrapped around her. Katie clung to her, tears prickling as Marci rocked her from side to side. What would life have been like if she’d had a mother who cared, rather than one who acted as if she was a nuisance for existing?

  Ten minutes later they chatted like old friends as they sipped tea and nibbled on Marci’s tasty ginger cake. Though she’d been in Climax less than a day Katie fit in far better than with her stuffy, controlling family. Other than Gram, she didn’t miss any of them, or their infighting. She already knew she’d miss people like Marci, and the Whites, when she left.

  “This cake is really, really good,” she said as she reached for another piece.

  “Glad you like it. I brought the recipe because it’s Sam’s favorite. I also brought my triple ginger cookie recipe. They’re easier to carry in a saddlebag than cake.”

  Katie’s outstretched hand paused. “I’m only here for a few days.”

  Marci set her mug down and leaned forward. “Would you consider staying longer? Say, for a couple of weeks?”

  Stay? Katie looked around the kitchen, noting the dusty spider webs high in the corners above the cupboards that she’d yet to tackle. She suddenly noticed smudges on the door frames at the height of Sam and Trey’s hands, as well as lower down. From children, or visiting dogs? She hadn’t noticed any dogs on the ranch. She could finish the kitchen today, and do a good cleaning of the common rooms tomorrow. But there was a lot more that needed done before she’d consider the place clean.

  “Well, I can’t buy a bus ticket with two days’ pay.”

  “Do you know how important the hay crop is to our valley?” asked Marci.

  Katie nodded. She’d overheard the ranchers talking about it at the Roadhouse that morning. She’d had a few moments so had listened as they explained how beef cattle were not kept in barns during the winter. Deep snow, common to Montana, would cover up all traces of food. Therefore animals had to be fed stored hay all winter or they’d starve. What was unusual in this valley was that they used almost the same process to harvest it as they had over a century ago.

  “It’s a crazy, busy time, though lots of fun,” said Marci. “The men, and some women such as Aggie Adams and Lila Frost, work outside from dawn to dusk cutting, raking, and making haystacks, mostly on horseback. We women do the food. It’s hard, physically demanding work for everyone. The grandmothers take care of the children and the grandfathers maintain the equipment.”

  “I told Tom and Dorothy I’d be happy to volunteer, though I’m not sure what needs doing, or if anyone would want and outsider helping.”

  “You’re no outsider.” Marci waved her hand around the room. “If you can get this much done in a couple of hours, you’ll fit right in.” Her smile faded. She clasped her hands and set them on the table. “We need more than another pair of hands, Katie. We need someone to take charge so all decisions go through one person. It would’ve been Stella, though she wasn’t very enthused about it. Tom said you have a business background?”

  “Well, I have an MBA, though not a lot of practical experience other than with volunteer organizations. Mostly I helped with paperwork, worked at animal shelters and food banks, and planned fundraisers.”

  “So, you’ve done inventory, ordered supplies, and organized work parties?”

  “Well, yes,” she admitted. She hadn’t thought of it in those terms as her family had made light of her contributions the one time she was stupid enough to mention her work.

  “Are you up to the challenge of managing the food? It’s a lot of work. All those boring numbers.”

  “I like doing inventory management, budgeting, and cost analysis. It’s logical. No matter which way I add up the column of numbers, it’s always the same.”

  “If you’re sure…”

  “I’m sure.” The logistics side of Katie’s brain kicked into high gear. She hadn’t been challenged, really challenged, in far too long. “How many people?”

  “There’s nine ranches. With my generation, our grown children and parents, townfolk and those who return every year to help, we’re talking about e
ighty people. Plus grandkids, though they don’t eat much.”

  “Three meals a day?”

  “Plus coffee breaks, depending on what’s going on. We keep working until it’s done. We’re up before dawn and cleaning up after dark. And since it’s July, the sun hangs in the sky a long time.”

  Katie did the math. “That’s about two hundred and fifty meals plus snacks each day. How many days?”

  “It depends on the weather. We start at the Gibson’s Anchor Ranch in the east and work west to the Bitterroot Ranch on the north side of the river, and ours on the south. Since we have a bunkhouse the visiting men live there when they’re not sleeping under the stars. Some of Lila’s wedding guests will stay there after the haying is over. That’s Lila Frost of the Circle C, the ranch to the east of here.”

  The challenge, a real one rather than a paper exercise, gripped Katie. She hadn’t had a chance to prove herself, or to put her years of schooling into practice. She’d also get an opportunity to see into other homes, talk with the women, and maybe come up with an idea for a good product to set before the CEO. Without that, she’d be shoved aside and her career plans derailed.

  “We’ve been doing this pretty much the same way since the 1870s,” said Marci proudly. “We see it as an excuse to have a community party while we work together for the common good of all. Helping each other is a value that is important here. Our roots go deep.”

  “Is there something you can give me in writing to help me plan?”

  Marci tilted her head, tapping her lip with a finger as she gazed at Katie. “Actually, no. If you have the skills, we’d really appreciate having something we could pass on. Stella’s injury was a wake-up call that we’re not getting any younger. We need you, for many reasons.”

  Katie’s heart beat faster. It was being truly needed which really grabbed her. Needed by people who worked together rather than ripping others apart with sarcasm. To top it off, she could leave a written record, a lasting benefit to the people who had taken her in when she was desperate.

  If she stayed a couple of weeks she might get an opportunity to have fun, as in sex. Sam said she was to take the first step. She had, with Trey, but Sam didn’t know about that. Taking on this assignment would give her time to gather her courage and seduce Sam. She figured Trey wouldn’t need much encouragement.

  “It’s hard work,” said Marci, breaking into her erotic thoughts. “We have such a good time, though, laughing and singing, having women’s fun.”

  Even if she didn’t end up in bed with Sam and Trey she would enjoy her last days of freedom with women as relaxed and easygoing as Marci MacDougal.

  “If the other women are anything like you, I’ll enjoy helping,” she said.

  Marci broke out in a wide smile and held out her hand. They shook on it, sealing the deal. Katie suddenly realized she’d agreed without knowing if she could complete the job and get home on time.

  “How long did you say this will take?”

  “A week to ten days, depending on Mother Nature. The hay mustn’t be wet, yet we don’t want a dry wind to suck all the moisture out. Ranchers, like farmers and builders, don’t have absolutes. We have to learn to live with what is thrown at us.” She hesitated. “Is that going to be a problem?”

  Gran, as CEO, always insisted that one’s word was one’s bond, and she still completed deals with a handshake. Katie had agreed to do this, and had shaken on it. As long as her grandmother stayed in charge, she should be fine. Uncle Walter had quite a different view of life than his mother. He insisted everything be written down, checked over thoroughly by his lawyers, and contracts be completed to the letter, no matter what. When a family member failed they were demoted. Employees were fired.

  Gran would want her to finish the job here, as it would be a benefit to the company in good will. If Uncle Walter took over he’d love an excuse to fire her, leaving the way clear for his daughter Matilda, a few months older than Katie.

  “No problem,” said Katie. “I’m in, all the way.”

  Chapter Seven

  “Have you ever lived in the country?” asked Marci. Katie seemed to belong in the Elliotts’ kitchen. She was so relaxed, unlike Jane Adams when she’d first arrived. But then Jane was being stalked by her father and ex-fiancé. Thank goodness both would spend a long time in jail.

  “Yes, as a child,” said Katie. “My maternal grandmother had a farm, and was truly the salt of the earth. Grammie always found something good to say about people, even if it was just that they knew what they wanted, and how to get it.” A small smile played around her lips. “My mother hated the farm, but I loved spending the summer working beside Grammie in her garden or the house. My first good memories are of her farmhouse kitchen. She’d wrap me in a big apron, stand me on a chair, and I’d proudly polish her silver while she washed the breakables. Simple things, but done in an atmosphere of love. That’s where I learned to cook, and to do housework.”

  Marci locked away the information. Knowing Katie had loved living on a farm, even though she was young at the time, might encourage her to stay in ranch country. She wasn’t the right woman for Ross and Brody, and may not be right for Sam and Trey. But there were other ranches with pairs of single brothers, and a few more sets of bachelors in town.

  “It’s important for everyone, male and female, to take care of themselves,” said Marci. I have only sons, but I made sure they wouldn’t depend on a mother or wife to do it for them. Did your mother grow up on the farm?”

  “Yes, and hated every minute. Mom was the oldest so had to help a lot. She married my father right out of college to escape the farm. He’s the youngest of five boys. They were last married, so I ended up the youngest of the cousins. It was made clear that I was a nuisance at home.” Katie sat straighter. “It was different on the farm since I was the oldest by a couple of years. Grammie gave me responsibility, respect, and love.” She blinked hard.

  Marci knew the signs of someone fighting tears and heartache. She gave Katie a moment to recover. “How many summers did you spend there?”

  “From age five to twelve, when I got old enough to start learning the furniture business, and therefore be of use.” She clenched her jaw. “I never saw Grammie again after that. I wrote to her, but if she replied I never saw the letters.”

  “You loved your grandmother a lot.” Marci wanted to say something harsher, but she couldn’t condemn Katie’s family. Yet.

  “Grammie was the only one who loved me unconditionally, rather than for what I could do for her. She was the only one who laughed and gave big hugs, and said how wonderful I was. She had no money but it didn’t matter. She had lots of love to share.”

  “What about your father’s side?”

  Katie slumped. “My grandfather died when my father was young so my grandmother had to take over the company. She did well, and it’s very successful. My parents told me not to bother Gram as she was the CEO more than my grandmother. They said I’d make them look bad, just by being myself.”

  “Thank goodness you got out of there!”

  “For now.” Katie shrugged. “I don’t know what I’ll do once I leave here. If I can finish my assignment I hope to have a good job, leading to a career.”

  She did not seem wild about the idea. “You said you like the financial aspects of a business,” said Marci. “What else makes you happy? The little things, I mean.”

  “Happy?” Katie fiddled with her Kermit the Frog mug.

  Marci remembered it being one of Stella’s favorites, a gift from husband Ron when the boys were small. It was one of many things Stella had left behind when she moved out. Marci wasn’t sure if it was downsizing, leaving things with the boys, or not wanting painful memories. Katie obviously had a few of her own.

  “I like having things neat and tidy. Not just polishing and lining up shoes, but events as well. Doing things that improve things for people. I don’t know what else to say.” She shrugged. “I just like helping, and knowing I’ve done a good jo
b.”

  “You have a strong will.”

  Katie laughed. “Not compared to my relatives. They think I’m a pushover.”

  “Because you like to help?”

  “They said I’m a lamb and I need to be a shark.” She looked away. “I figure there’s enough sharks in the world already.”

  “You’re no meek lamb,” said Marci. “You’re smart, determined, intelligent, and so much more.”

  Katie looked uncomfortable at the praise. “Why do you say that?”

  “You wouldn’t have lasted six months on your own unless you were a good judge of people. You wouldn’t have gotten the jobs, or kept them, or kept yourself safe. You can make decisions quickly and carry them out. You jumped out of that pickup truck at night, in a strange place, to save yourself. That shows smarts, and a lot of guts.”

  “I didn’t have any choice.”

  Marci leaned forward. “You always have choices. Even if it’s to get on your knees and cry and beg for your life when you know you’re going to die anyway, or to stand tall and face your attacker head on.” She hadn’t begged when her husband tried to murder her. She’d fought back, and won. Katie didn’t need to know that. She’d find out if she spent any time here, though. “You need to be in control of yourself to see those choices clearly. If you’re terrified, all you can do is react.”

  “Like when I punched Sam in the nose,” Katie said ruefully.

  Marci laughed. “I wish I’d seen that. It’s about time someone knocked Sam Elliott on his keister.”

  The corners of Katie’s mouth twitched. “Yes, well, it wasn’t a smart thing to do.”

  “It was exactly the right thing to do! You have to protect yourself first. We are small women with big attitudes. If we don’t stand up for ourselves, especially around big men, we’ll get trampled.”

  They were quiet for a moment. From the way Katie fretted, there was something she wanted to know. Marci gave her time.

  “What’s it like being married to two big men?”