Patty’s Homecoming
[Montana Wranglers – Book 1]
Patricia Graymont knew Blake and Corbin all her life. They practically grew up on her daddy’s ranch after all. She had loved them for just as long. However, stubborn and unable to see what was right before her she ran off for New York City in the hopes of being able to fall out of love with the two men, too bad she fell into trouble instead.
For ten years Blake and Corbin waited for their Tishia to come home to them. Blake served time in the Military while Corbin worked the Ranch and received degrees. Both men knew that one day they would make Patricia Graymount theirs. They just didn’t realize what would bring her home.
Running home after being nearly beaten to death by a Mafia Boss’s crew because she dared to ‘turn him down’ she came back to the only place she had ever felt safe. But there they were. Like a kick in the gut it nearly killed her to see them, and know she would love them forever.
They didn’t let her dangle for long though. Blake and Corbin both ensured she knew that they were there for her and would always be there for her. They both began to show her the life that they could all have, together.
Just as their love began to really take hold, trouble struck like lightening and had Blake and Corbin running to find her before she was stolen from them forever.
Happily ever after, that’s what the trio wanted and needed… a Happily Ever After for them, and a continuation of their families happiness into the next generations. If they can just get there in time.
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STORY EXCERPT
Prologue
Buried amongst the
rolling hills and valleys of Montana lies the
small town of Mission.
Settled south of Great Falls, just north of the Lewis & Clark National Forest, this town of 800 plus
souls live life off the land and a small, but profitable tourist trade.
Thirty miles
due west is the Graymont ranch. Where, as his ancestors before him, Daniel
Graymont carries on the tradition of nearly one hundred and sixty years and
raises cattle and thoroughbred horses. The life isn’t for everyone, hot summers
of hard work and frigid winters that rival even Siberia
take their toll. Only the most hardy of souls dared to settle and remain in the
rugged terrain. But, like his ancestors, Daniel is determined to uphold
tradition.
* * * * *
May 12, 2013
The sound of a
door slamming was closely followed by loud curses of a creative, if inaccurate,
nature. Lifting his head up from the books he’d been semi-diligently going over
Daniel peeked out the window. What he saw was one of his hands, half dressed,
arguing with Constantine, his housekeeper.
Rolling his chair
closer to the window he cracked it open. He didn’t need to, the whole house had
air conditioning. Nope, he was being a nosy old man and cracked it to
eavesdrop. Not that he was old. He was only sixty and still going strong. He’d
had a great life, an even better to his beloved wife Charlotte, God rest her
soul. She’d given him thirty-five years of marriage, love and the best sex of
his life. She’d also given him every single one of his grey hairs, two sons and
a daughter.
Connor worked the
farm and, one day, would take over for him. Brendan was a lawyer in Great falls and handled
all the legal matters for the farm, not that there were a lot, but it was a
business. And his baby, Patricia, was in New
York working for a interior designer and, one day God
willing, would go out on her own. In the meantime she was living life, enjoying
her career and called him every weekend to chat a mile a minute. Just like her
mama used to do whenever she was excited, or pissed off. Chuckling he shook his
head, that girl could talk the ear off of anyone and try the patience of even
the Pope himself.
“I’ve told you a
dozen times Constantine and, I’m sorry I have to apparently declare it to the
whole damned world, but I’m not interested.” Blake, the half dressed hand said
in a loud tone. Daniel’s attention was dragged back to the goings on outside
the window.
“That’s not what
Trevor said,” the woman shrieked. “Do you think I would be there if you hadn’t
apparently been pining for me?”
“Pining!” Daniel
winced. He hadn’t known that Blake’s voice could go that high, or that loud.
“Woman, I have never nor will I ever pine for a woman. Especially you
Constantine Delgado. You are a busybody and way too much maintenance. And if I
ever, ever catch you trying to jump me while I’m in my rack sleeping again I
will personally kick your ass out of Montana
one step at a time.”
The woman shrieked
at the top of her lungs, pure frustration there Daniel thought. His next
thought was he would be needing a new housekeeper. And he was spot on with that
assessment, especially given her next words. “Don’t fucking bother you
degenerate! I quit!” she screamed. With that volume Daniel was pretty sure all
of Montana
knew she’d just quit.
“Good!” Blake
sneered right back at her. “I pity the next fool that dares to take you on. I
only pray that he’s got a wife that puts you in your fucking place.”
Another shriek and
Constantine was
storming towards the house. Eyes going wide Daniel shut the window and rolled
his chair back into place just in time for the front door to smack the siding.
Wincing he turned his attention to the books as she went to her room. More
banging, door slamming and a lot of swearing.
One of the
problems with having a single woman on the farm, the men tended to forget about
her sex when they were working and let loose with some creative language. Not
that he normally minded. The only time he enforced it with the hands was when
Patricia came home to visit. Course, most of the lads thought of her as a baby
sister, so that helped keep the cursing to a minimum. Not that he was fool
enough to believe his baby girl couldn’t out swear them all, she could. He was
just in denial and would remain so until the day he left his farm and went to
meet up with his Charlotte
in the hereafter.
His head came up
as he realized that silence reigned in the house all of a sudden. Oops, thought
it too soon. A door slammed and angry steps stomped towards his office. Pasting
on a bland expression he looked up. “Constantine,
uh, are you going somewhere?” he asked. Okay, an Academy Award was not in his
future but she was too pissed off to notice.
“I’m sorry mister
Graymont, I can’t work here any longer. I quit,” she said, slamming her
suitcase to the floor.
“I’m sorry to hear
that Constantine.
May I ask why?” He tipped his head and hoped he looked confused and slightly
curious.
“It’s got nothing
to do with you sir. It’s,” she waved a hand viciously if vaguely about. “It’s
them! Those no good, vile, men!” she hissed.
Fighting a chuckle
he nodded slowly. “Well, I’m sad to see you go Constantine. But you have to do whatever is
right for you dear.” He grabbed his checkbook and wrote her out a check for her
last pay plus a little extra. Passing it to her he sighed, “If you need
references you have them call me. You did great work while you were here and
I’m going to make sure they know that.”
She folded the
check, stuffed it into her purse and hefted her suitcase. “Thank you mister
Graymont. I am sorry to leave you in the lurch like this.”
“Don’t even worry
about it. We’ll make do,” he waved her off. “Drive safe now and if you need
anything, let me know.”
A stiff nod was
his only answer as she spun away. The door slammed behind her and he turned to
watch her march to her car. The finger she threw towards the bunkhouse was
telling, immature, but very telling. So was the spinning tires and gravel
kicked up behind her as she tore up the drive towards the main road.
“Wow, that
girl is mad,” he muttered reaching for the phone. Hitting a number on speed
dial he grinned when his buddy at the Mission Post picked up. “Morty, how’s it
going? Good, good. Nah, usual shit and lots of it given what I’ve got out in
the north forty. Listen, I need you to run my ad for a housekeeper. Yup, she
thought she’d get into one of the lads pants and he told her otherwise. I know,
damn women are just too pushy. A little subtlety goes a hell of a lot further.
Yup, sounds good. I’ll drop the check off tomorrow when I’m in getting
supplies. What? Yeah,” he chuckled. “We can grab a beer. Let’s say around four
if that works for you. Sounds good, see you then Mort.”
Chapter One
“God damn woman,”
he muttered. Grabbing up his saddle and other tack, he headed for the stall
where his horse was. Easing open the door he moved in slowly. “Morning Rusty,”
he said to the large stallion.
The big head swung
around and he got a nicker of hello. Smiling for the first time that morning he
set everything aside. Moving to his head Blake scratch under the big reds chin.
“Did you have a good night fella?” He got bumped in the chest, the horse was
looking for his morning apple.
“Yeah, I got it
here. So, did you hear that ruckus with Constantine?
Woman is crazy,” he said holding out the apple in his palm. “She actually tried
to crawl into my bed, naked no less. I have never once given her any hint that
I wanted her in that way. Hell, I was only cordial to her because she could
poison us at any time.”
Rusty crunched his
apple and bobbed his head. Sometimes he thought the big guy actually understood
him. Sighing he moved away and grabbed the blanket. Smoothing it over the big
bay’s back he hefted the saddle. “But Trevor is in for it, fucker apparently
told her I was pining away for her or some such shit.”
His horse shook
his head, Blake took it to be in disbelief. “My thoughts exactly. That prick
has been a thorn in my side since he got here.” Tightening the strap Blake
flipped down the stirrup and sighed. Grabbing the halter he moved around the
front and looked into the big brown eyes. Leaning his head to the horses he let
out a breath. “Women are fucking confusing buddy. You have it easy. You see a
lady horse you either get to mount her or you get a hoof to the head. Simple in
comparison to the crap we mere mortals have to put up with.”
No answer from the
horse. Figured. When he needed one he got nothing. “Thanks anyway buddy. At
least you listen to me without a running commentary. Do you know how rare that
is? Well, if you don’t, it’s very rare. You’re a good friend,” he patted
Rusty’s neck. “Open up bud, let’s get this on you and go for a ride.”
Leading Rusty out
of the stable ten minutes later he adjusted his hat and swung up into the
saddle. Glancing around he let out a breath and turned Rusty’s head towards the
trail. “Come on boy, let’s get a move on. We have a lot of fencing to check
today.” And the day after and the day after that. Which is why he had food,
water, his pack, extra clothing and food for Rusty in his saddlebags. He was
going to be out for a time.
The plan was
to meet up with Corbin, who had was out there already with a herd of cattle.
He’d restock his friend, they’d check the fences and then head back in, four
days down the line, to the main farm. They then had three days off before
they’d have to be back to work.
* * * * *
Stretching slowly
he scratched at his chest and yawned. Rolling his head around his shoulders he
groaned. Four days with the herd that did nothing but eat, moo and poop was
damned boring. And he was out there on his own. Normally he didn’t mind, but he
didn’t even have Duke, the farms mascot dog, out there to talk to. Nope, he had
cows who stood chewing their cud while he tried to chat them up.
Thank God Blake
was coming out and they were doing fence sweeps. Blake didn’t talk much, but at
least he listened. And actual human company for a few days would be a relief.
Any human company would have been a relief right then. Blake’s was just a
bonus.
Glancing up he
shaded his dark green eyes from the morning light. Dust coming in, small plume,
single rider. Blake, right on schedule. Moving then he gathered up his items,
stashing them back into the saddle bags. Moving to his horse he started to get
her ready, saddling her as he talked to her quietly. Not that Petunia cared,
she was one of the more easy going horses around. Worked well with the cattle
and didn’t spook easily, a huge plus when she was his only mode of
transportation.
He was in the
saddle, hat covering his dark red hair when Blake came up the last hill.
Tipping his head Corbin moved up to join his friend and fellow cow hand.
“Mornin’,” he greeted him.
Blake gave a grunt
in reply and handed over a flask. Opening it Corbin nearly fell off his horse
at the delightful scent. “Oh thank you God, real coffee.” Pouring a cup while
on horseback took talent. One that he, thankfully, had. Sipping the strong brew
he could have wept, it was that good.
“Constantine quit,” Blake said into the
silence, twenty minutes into their ride.
Looking over in
surprise Corbin blinked. “What? When? Why?”
He got an
irritated look for the rapid fire questions. “She quit, this morning, because I
wouldn’t fuck her.”
Corbin nearly fell
off his horse at that. “What?” he squawked. “What the hell bro? What are you
talking about?”
“I was asleep, in
my bunk, when she decided to molest me. Apparently on the advice of Trevor who
told her I was pining for her. I didn’t get much more out of her before I lost
my cool and basically unloaded on her.”
Whistling through
his teeth he shot Blake a look. “Damn. What in the world did you ever do to
that boy?”
“Nothing. Not a
goddamn fucking thing. The little shit’s been a burr up my ass since he got
here. But this, God Corbin,” he could hear Blake grinding his teeth. “If he’d
been there I’d have whooped his ass and then done it all over again for that
unwelcome wake up call. I can’t believe the gall of him.”
“Well, there has
to be a story there. When we get back, we’ll just have to ask him.” Corbin
shrugged at his friends look. “Real nice like of course,” he grinned. Yeah,
they’d ask. Real nice like. With a right hook or a uppercut or two. One way or
another they’d find out why Trevor was out to undermine Blake.
“Glad to hear
you’re on the same page.”
“Always,” he
nodded. “Course, God only knows what we’re going to end up with now for a
housekeeper.”
“May she be older
than Daniel and covered in warts. And we’ll sic her on the little shit in
payback,” Blake growled.
Laughing at that
Corbin shook his head. “Damn, that’s just mean. As long as she can cook and
hold her own around the ranch, I don’t give two shits what she looks like. But
pretty would be good.”
“You are a dog.”
“Yup,” he nodded
happily. “I am at that,” he let out a howl that had even his sour faced friend
laughing. It was quiet and subdued, but it was a laugh. His work was done, for
the moment anyway.
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