by S Doyle
I really hated it when she cursed. She didn’t do it often. But when she started, she couldn’t stop herself.
I lowered my voice in an attempt to get her to do the same. I did this so I wouldn’t have to tell her to be quiet, which whenever I did that with difficult drunk Janet, she invariably got louder.
“I don’t get what the big deal is. You’ve always been fine with the bunk house. It’s nice in there with the fireplace going.”
She stood, wobbled on her feet a little, but steadied herself.
“Take me home.”
“Janet…” I sighed. I really wanted to get laid.
“Now.”
“Yeah. Okay.” The night was over. I could see it in her face.
I drove her home without a word between us. There was no point. She was too drunk to really listen or understand anything I might have said. I thought about the hand job I would give myself when I got home as a way to distract myself.
The reality was that by the time I took her back to her place, then drove all the way back to Long Valley, I was too tired to do anything but crash. A rancher worked seven days a week, three hundred and sixty-five days a year, and I needed to be up at dawn.
I made a mental note to talk to Ellie about always locking the door before I fell asleep.
Six
Ellie
February
“This is weird. Do you think everyone will be staring at us?” I asked Jake as I sat in the passenger seat of his truck while I looked across the parking lot of Nash’s Grocery Store.
“Why would people be staring at us?”
“Uh, it’s our first official appearance as a married couple in town.”
Jake huffed as he popped open his door. “We’re at the grocery store, Ellie. It’s not like we’re going to walk in as they announce us Mr. and Mrs.”
Fine, he didn’t have to be freaked out, but I was. We were three weeks into our fake marriage, with only fifteen months and one week to go.
Javier and Gomez were back. It took a little bit of explaining in my best Spanish that my dad was dead and I was married to Jake. They didn’t blink. Like it made sense that we would marry and carry on with the ranch.
They called me boss lady. They called him boss man. They did the work as always, with little conversation and no complaints.
But as soon as the calves started to drop the work increased by threefold. Protecting the newborns, watching for predators who had a penchant for calf afterbirth, constantly monitoring the weather for sudden drops in temperature. During calving season a rancher had to be super hyper-focused on all of it.
It was a big deal to take time out from that, but today we decided we would go grocery shopping together. This way I could get a handle on what he liked and him the same with me.
Which meant that one us (which would be either of us at times, because the idea that only women grocery shopped was sexist) could do grocery shopping in the future and we would be confident we knew what the other person liked.
As it was restock day at Nash’s, I was feeling pretty confident they would have at least one of everything I typically bought.
We grabbed a cart and started with fruit.
“I like apples,” Jake said. “Any kind.”
“That’s fine, but a few bananas too. Also I’m allergic to anything berry.”
“No berries, got it.”
We moved on to produce.
“Vegetables suck,” Jake said. I had to cut him a little slack because he was a cattle rancher and meat was his passion. “I know vegetarians exist, but don’t try to actually convince me this shit is good.”
“It’s good for you,” I said. “That’s the point. You shove enough broccoli and asparagus down and you don’t feel guilty about french fries.”
Jake looked super serious when he said, “I never feel guilty about french fries. I can handle lettuce, spinach, and broccoli. Bring home Brussels sprouts and you’re on your own.”
So noted. We didn’t have to worry about the meat aisle, because we obviously butchered and ate our own. However, I did point out the need for chicken. Because I was a girl and couldn’t live on red meat, and because chicken parmesan was delicious.
“Why? We can just kill one of the chickens no longer laying eggs.”
“No,” I said. “I like the chickens.”
Then I got the rancher frown. My dad had mastered this look by the time I was three.
Ellie, you don’t get attached to the product. Cows are meat, chickens lay eggs until they become meat, and the horses are your employees. You want a pet, we’ll get a dog.
“I know, I know. I’m saying every once in a while packaged chicken instead of having to slaughter the dinner I fed that day is easier, okay?”
“Fine.”
That’s when things got a little dicey. We cleared shampoo and conditioner no problem. I liked Fruictise Rainforest, and yes I needed both shampoo and conditioner. He liked Dove shampoo because it was the cheapest.
I needed body wash, any brand would do.
He needed Irish Spring soap.
He showed me the razors he liked. I showed him the deodorant I had to have. Fresh Scent.
Then we got to feminine products.
“Awkwaaaard,” I sang.
“Get a grip. You’re married now.”
I laughed. I think that was actually a joke. Jake didn’t really do jokes very often.
“Always pads, Tampax tampons.” I showed him the right color bag and box.
“Yep.”
We walked past the condom section. Did not say a word. Just kept walking right past it.
Joey at the register bagged us up and we made it back to the truck without anyone stopping us or staring at us or in general being weirded out by us.
On a scale of one to ten, I called the shopping trip a resounding nine.
Jake thought my whole scale stuff was stupid.
Jake
March
“Tell me what I’m watching again?”
It had become a thing, I realized. Ellie and I would either cook or clean up. We went back and forth based on whoever felt like doing what. Sometimes that came down to a coin flip, then we changed into our comfort clothes (she called them jammies—I refused to reference any article of clothing I had as jammies) and watched TV.
I was a rancher, I was up at dawn so I was in bed by nine at the latest, but sometimes it helped to drift off to something mindless.
She had her phone in her hand and was feverishly texting someone. “Scandal,” she said without look up.
“Catch me up. What’s the plot?”
She lifted her head and gasped. Actually gasped. “I can’t catch you up on Scandal. Do you know how many things have happened? It would take months, it would take essays.”
Essays? On a TV show?
“I can’t get a general grasp?”
She sighed and set her phone aside. “Well, okay, that’s Olivia Pope and she has this badass law firm, sort of? Anyway she was in love with the President, and they had an affair, but he of course was married and then she fell in love with Jake, I think. Or she’s still been in love with the President the whole time, it’s hard to know. But Jake is a serious badass and no one is sure if he really loves her or if he is just loyal to her father.”
“Who is her father?”
She looked at me like I had two heads. “Hello, he’s the bad guy. There, that guy. He runs like this super spy agency, which does really bad things. Oh, and he killed the President’s son.”
I tried to think about what that meant. “So Olivia was having an affair with the President, but then her father killed his son.”
“Yes. But I think at the end of the show she’s ultimately going to end up with the President and not Jake. You know. True love.”
Her phone started buzzing again and she went back to texting.
I didn’t know much about true love. My mother left my father when I was five. Still, if my true love’s father killed my son,
I’m pretty sure I would have a problem with it.
“Who are you texting? Chrissy?” I wasn’t sure why I asked. I guess because it wasn’t like her to be so distracted. She wasn’t one of those girls pinned to her phone all the time. She had too much work to do around the farm for that kind of stuff.
I wasn’t certain if she was even on Facebook. I sure as hell wasn’t.
“Riley.”
The boy. Now it made sense. “I want to meet him at some point.”
“Yes, Jake,” she answered, but I could tell she was humoring me.
Still, I figured I would leave her to her… conversation. All that typing. I don’t get why he didn’t man up and call her.
“I think I’ll go up and watch ESPN.”
She smiled at me. “Okay.”
I got up and started to head out of the living room when she said, “Jake?”
“Yep?”
“Game of Thrones is coming back soon. You like that show, right?”
“My favorite.”
“Okay, so we can watch that together.”
She was lonely, I thought. The texting Riley aside, this was different. Being in the house with someone. Sam had been more than her father, he’d been her whole world. Except for me.
“Yeah,” I told her. “We can watch that together.”
Ellie
April
“Not bad,” Jake said as I showed him the numbers. We were at the kitchen table. It was Sunday night, which meant we were working financials of the ranch.
Expenses, our calf yield, the current market rates for beef, and what we needed to sell to hit our goals.
It was strange because I wasn’t the best at math in school, but for this stuff you could use a calculator and I seemed to have a head for it.
Like now I was showing Jake how we were overpaying for hay. My dad had always stuck with Mr. Johnson, but they were charging almost ten dollars more for a large bale than the McCurdys.
I had no intention of being disloyal to Mr. Johnson, but I told him if he didn’t come down on the price I was walking.
He crumpled like a tin can under extreme water pressure.
Jake could care less about that kind of stuff. Until he saw the result.
“You really called Mr. Johnson up and started haggling for hay cost,” he said smiling as I showed him what it meant in savings per year.
“Girl’s got to do what a girl’s got to do.”’
He looked at me then and I could see he was thinking something serious.
“You’re really getting into this. I wasn’t completely sure if you would or not.”
“Uh, hello? Like I sort of have no choice. Future here.”
He nodded. “I guess it never it occurred to me if this was the future you wanted?”
“Of course it is.”
Right? I mean I always knew ranching was my future. I suppose I wanted it. Or maybe I hadn’t really thought it out because I was supposed to be way older before I started having to do any of this stuff.
And it was a lot of stuff.
So I thought about it. Really thought about it and answered him again. “I’m a Mason. Long Valley is Mason land and has been for five generations. It’s mine to have and work for future Masons. I don’t know if it’s about wanting it so much as knowing this is my destiny. It all came way faster than I was expecting. But it doesn’t mean I can be any less responsible about it. Does that sound corny?”
He smiled, then reached over and ruffled my hair, which I hated.
“Stop!” I smacked at his hands.
He laughed and seemed to come to some conclusion about something.
“When school’s out I’ll start taking you around more. Showing you every aspect about the ranch. I want you to be as prepared as you can be.”
Yep. That’s what I needed to be. As prepared as I could be because we were counting down time now. Only twelve months and two weeks left.
Seven
Ellie
April 22
It was official. Today was going to be the best day of my life. On a scale of one to ten, a total ten.
First, it was my birthday. Jake promised to make me my favorite for breakfast. Eggs and ridiculously burnt bacon. Normally we fended for ourselves in the morning. He was always up before me anyway.
Especially during calving season, because those little suckers were always popping out.
He could be up around the clock some days. But calving season was always exciting because it meant securing the future. Which was good news, something we needed around Long Valley because we hadn’t had it in a while.
Either of us.
Janet had broken up with Jake a couple of months ago. Then she asked him to get back together. Then she broke up with him again.
It was all very intense.
As of today I think they were officially on again, but one thing was quite certain.
She hated me.
Like next-level hated me. My first official enemy in Riverbend. She would call the house line because cell service was spotty out on the ranch, and I could hear it in her voice.
Hi Ellie! How are yooooo?
So chipper. So peppy.
Translated.
I hate you, Ellie… please divorce my boyfriend soon.
One more year to go. Anyway, back to my birthday. I was seventeen. Jake was taking time to make me breakfast this morning. I wasn’t expecting a gift, but you never knew with him. Some times Jake did (remember my horse Petunia—that was a Jake gift) and sometimes he didn’t. Just a simple ‘happy birthday kiddo’ instead.
Point of fact, I hated it when called me kiddo.
I made sure he had a gift on his birthday every year he lived with us, because he was… Well, he wasn’t an orphan. We all figured his mom was alive somewhere in the world, but no one knew that for certain. What was certain was that she would never step foot inside the state of Montana again. She had hated living here. A transplant Ernie had picked up from Seattle and brought home.
Not a good fit.
Since he was basically as good as an orphan, I would make my dad give me money so Jake had a present on his birthday and for Christmas.
Today, first time as my husband, who knew what to expect. But it didn’t matter. Because no gift was going to be as big as tonight.
Tonight was prom night. We didn’t do proms by grades. Just one big dance where everybody could go. In the gym, which was a little old-school cheesy, but the only place in Riverbend that would fit us all for an event.
Riley had in fact asked me to go with him. We weren’t dating, but we were officially hanging out. With some kissing. Hanging out and kissing. Tonight was going to be our first real date.
I had a dress. I had an appointment with Bella to get my hair blown out. But the best thing was… I was going to lose it tonight. The V card. I was going to tell Riley I wanted to have sex. Actual sex. Full on penetration. His dick, my vagina. We were going to do it.
Chrissy had done it. Lisa had done it. Karen hadn’t done it yet, but she’d given her boyfriend a blow job.
I had done nothing! Nothing except the kissing and I was ready for more.
I had condoms. I would be safe. I figured it wasn’t going to be as good as Bella and Edward’s first time, but Riley was hot and I was really motivated.
Jake had met Riley and had instantly shut him down with a man glare. Of course. Worse, I could tell it had made Riley uncomfortable. When I’d called Jake out about it, he’d said a man shouldn’t be intimidated by a look. I would have reminded him that Riley was only eighteen, but it didn’t matter. Jake was not going to like any boyfriend I brought home. It was how he was built.
And truth was, he didn’t get to have a say in this part of my life.
We had been clear from the get go. Our sex lives were separate. Sure, he didn’t think I had one, and if he knew what I was planning tonight would probably do something to make that not happen. I figured what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
&
nbsp; I knew entirely far too much about his. Thanks to a pretty loud Janet several months ago I knew his girlfriend called his dick a peen and that Jake liked blow jobs.
Things I figured out pretty quickly about myself: I would never call a guy’s dick anything other than what it was. A dick, a cock, a penis, whatever. Janet had sounded like an idiot.
Also I took it for granted that most guys liked blow jobs. I thought I wanted to start with some straight-up sex first, but I was of the opinion I should be open minded in all things related to sex.
How could you know what you liked or what you didn’t if you didn’t try it all?
I had even tried doing it to myself, but I was not having a whole lot of success pulling off the orgasm thing. I could finger myself and play with my nipples, and that felt good, but it never went anywhere, which I knew it should. Which meant I probably wasn’t doing it right, but it’s not like I was going to ask my girlfriends how to jack off and it certainly wasn’t a conversation I could have with Jake.
In some ways I was hoping he would be cool with me about guys and sex. He wasn’t that much older than I was. It’s not like he didn’t remember high school at all. I thought I could talk to him as one soon-to-be non-virginal adult to another.
It took that one hard macho staredown when I introduced him to Riley to seal the deal.
He couldn’t not be that guy. The overprotective, wrap me up in bubble wrap and let’s pretend that I wasn’t going to be on my own in a year running this ranch, guy.
I bounced out of bed washed my face and brushed my teeth and headed down for breakfast. I could already smell the bacon cooking. I would eat first, then chores, then get ready for school.
“I smell bacon,” I sang.
“Burning as we speak,” he said over a popping and sizzling frying pan.
I sat on the stool at the island and waited patiently. “Eggs, eggs, eggs,” I said, pounding the counter with my fists. Okay, maybe not so patient.