Montana (Modern Mail Order Bride Book 2) (21 page)

“That still is not going to save us our property.  The loan payment is due next week,” he told Chad. “Even if we turned all of this over to the sheriff, who is Duncan’s cousin, it won’t do us any good.”

Avery, who had been real quiet, walked up and draped her arms around Zachary’s waist. “Billy Joe, if you asked Zachary for some help, he would give you some of his money, like he is going to give me to get my art supplies.”

This gained the attention of all the Johnsons standing about, including Pecola, but more so Brooks.

“I am not asking Zachary for any of his money,” Billy Joe said with indignation.

“You don’t have to,” Zachary said.  “I’m going to write you a check as an investment in your new business.”

Billy Joe’s eyes began to tear up. “That’s nice of you, but I don’t want your sympathy,” he told his brother-in-law.

“I don’t know why Pecola hasn’t said anything yet; she could easily take care of all of this for you,” Zachary said.

“I was planning to tell him that in the privacy of our home later tonight if you would have given me a chance,” she said.

“Honey?” Billy Joe asked, confused, unclear on what they were saying.

“I sell a lot of those mail-order bride books,” she told him. “I make a lot of money.”

Chad’s eyes were on Zach as if he just realized who the man was standing next to his brother.  “Holy crap! Zach Peters as I live and breathe...wait. Why is Avery all over you?”

“That’s the same damned thing I want to know,” Brooks said as he brought his shotgun high.

Ruby Johnson was frowning at her daughter. She leaned into her red-faced husband and whispered in his ear. The expression that covered both of their faces made Zach pause.

“What?” he asked them both.

“My daughter appears a might too friendly with you there, young black fella,” Brooks said to him.

Zach extended his hand to the man. “I’m sorry.  I’m Zachary Peters, Pecola’s brother.  I came back with them to look at the property for an investment as well as to meet you...”

“Why in Heaven’s name do you want to meet us unless you have been fornicating under the eyes of Lord with my child?” Ruby accused.

“I know you ain’t let this man know you carnally, Avery Jean Johnson,” Brooks said.

“Wait a Goddam...” Zachary started to say, but Avery popped him in the mouth.

“If I ain’t told you once, I have told you at least four times, Zachary Peters, you do not take the Lord’s name in vain.  That combination of words is blasphemous,” Avery told him.

Ruby whispered to her husband again. Brooks nodded his head in punctuation, the thick gray hair with streaks of black and eyes focused in on Zach. The old man’s eyes moved to Ellwood, who circled around to stand behind Zach.

“In the truck,” Brooks commanded.

“What?” Zach asked.

“I said in the truck, young man; you too, Avery Jean,” Ruby said.  Ellwood clucked Zach in the back with the walking stick as he pushed him towards the truck.

“Pecola! Billy Joe!” Zach called out.  Ellwood’s walking stick was in his back as they pushed the sinewy black man towards the four-door pickup.  Avery knew what was about to happen.  She was grinning from ear to ear as she helped Zach into the truck.

“You guys!  Don’t let them lynch me!” Zach called out. “That is no way for a black man to die!”

Billy Joe, a wry smile on his face, called out, “Hey man, can you write me that check before ya’ll leave?”

Pecola, wringing her hands, hollered “Where are they taking my brother? You people get back here with my brother!”

The truck pulled off as Pap and Chad jumped in his truck, the squirming little man still tied up in the back.  “I gaurunbetcha your fancy running brother ain’t even ready for this right chere!” Pap said as he slapped his knee.

“Shit hell, I know he sure ain’t,” Billy Joe said as he slid in the cab of Chad’s truck, pulling Pecola on his lap.

“What is happening?” she asked, scared for her brother.

Pap chuckled, “We are finally going to get Avery Jean married off to a decent fella!”

“Say what now?” Pecola asked as the truck sped away towards town.

––––––––

W
hat am I doing here
?

Zachary Peters found himself standing in a courtroom before a judge in the middle of nowhere Montana getting married to a burly rancher’s daughter with tender eyes and thick black hair because...shit hell, he didn’t know why.  All he knew was that a gun was pointed at him and a half blind man holding a knobby cane with a knot on the end of it kept hitting him. His bride-to-be’s mother was very happy for her daughter, although a black man wasn’t what they had in mind for Avery Jean’s future.  Even for a decent looking woman like her daughter, Avery had a horrible dating history, combined with being caught in the barn with two football players, one that her father shot, a simple blessing rained from the heavens that they never had a chance to connect their bodies physically.  Ruby had taken her to the doctor several times to make sure her little girl was still intact. One weekend away from home and some muscled black guy had deflowered her angel. This was not the way the story was supposed to go for their Avery Jean. Such an imbalance in the fairy tale is what pushed Ruby to this ending for her daughter. Today Zachary Peters of New York City was getting hitched to Avery Jean Johnson.

In Montana.

In the middle of nowhere.

To a raven haired beauty with gorgeous gray eyes.

“Do you, Avery Jean Johnson, take Zachary Peters to be your lawfully wedded husband, keeping only unto him and forsaking all others, as long as you both shall live?” The judge was speaking to her with his thin lips and weathered face, a face so taut it looked as if he’d spent the better part of the night licking on something sour and aggressive that snuck up on him in the middle of the morning for a surprise visit.

“I do,” Avery said with a shaking voice. 

“Do you Zachary Peters, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward?”

“Hell no,” he said.

Ellwood clocked him on the back of his shoulder with his stick.  Brooks loaded another shell into the shotgun chamber. He leaned forward, voice low and ominous, “Ask that question again your, Judgeship,” Brooks said.

The question was asked again.

Zach said no again.

Ellwood clocked him with the stick again.

This time, Brooks pointed the shotgun at Zach’s foot.

“Shit hell, I guess I do,” Zach said real low.

He looked around the drab little courtroom to ensure no one else had answered for him. The benches were as weathered as the audience who came to witness the ceremony. Again his eyes searched the room with its peeling wallpaper and pictures of old white judges who hung on the walls like ghosts of shotgun weddings past.

I am agreeing to this; I am actually marrying this woman
.

Judge Martin posed the question once more to Zachary, who seemed to come to terms with his current circumstance. Those beautiful gray eyes of his blushing bride, still adorned in one of the fancy outfits he’d had Angie send over for her. The pretty pink sundress with matching pink sandals that showed off the perfectly polished toes gave him a sense of pride. Zach looked at her and softened up all over again. She was being forced into this as well. She would not be stuck with some sour faced man who had taken something from her and not be ready to own up to the deed.  His chest stuck forward the same instant Billy Joe and Pecola walked through the door.

“I do,” he said with pride.

Pride is what got me here. Pride and the desire to kill a horse named Buster
.

“You won’t regret this,” Avery Jean said to her new husband. Her eyes searched his face for understanding. “You will learn to love me,” she said to him.

“Loving you, Avery Jean Peters, is going to be the easy part,” he told her as he lowered his head to kiss his new wife. The hard part would be to introduce the country mouse to his fast-paced world without ruining the beauty that was Avery Jean.

If nothing else, he had time.  His football career was on its last legs and he had been wondering what was next for him. Investing in the ranch would be a nice getaway from the lifestyle which had taken his youth, used up his body, and nearly compromised his morality.  Avery Jean was an opportunity to build something substantial and be a daily part of his sister’s life.

For some odd reason, I am okay with this.

T
he spray of the water from the showerhead saturated the thick black hair on Billy Joe’s head as his arms pressed against the wall under the shower tap.  The pressure of the water forced the hairs on his forearms to lie flat from the barrage of droplets. A feeble attempt was made to corral the mixed emotions stampeding through his head, leaving a spark of hope trying to break through the despondency that was threatening to fold him in half.

It takes a special sort of evil to try to kill a man to take over his belongings.  Only a heartless bastard would poison nearly three hundred head of cattle. Those animals were food for a great number of people
. The way the animals were poisoned was even worse; they had died in the middle of night, right between the shift changes, and were not found until the next morning. He didn’t even have a chance to try to save the hides. Half a million dollars in livestock, gone.

Because of greed.

“William,” Pecola called to him.

“Be out in a second, Honey,” he said as he lathered the thick black hair one more time, rinsed, then did the same thing for his body. No matter how many times he washed, the scent of half a million dollars in burning beef sat heavily in his lungs. Each time he exhaled, the sour stench of disappointment drifted about the bathroom on the puffs of steam.

Sore hands turned the taps to stop the flow of the cleansing waters. Phone calls continued to come in from neighboring farmers who had also suffered substantial losses. Chad fielded as many as he could.  He answered as many of the questions as he could. He sounded as positive as he could when he responded to fretful landowners.

“Billy Joe has a plan,” he heard Pecola say.

“Yes, we will all benefit,” he heard Pecola tell a caller. “No one is going hungry this winter or any winter.”

Duncan, in his attempt to destroy the community, had inadvertently set into motion a new era for the residents of Johnson County. The Writers Retreat at the Rocking J would be ready to take its first residents in the fall. At least that is what he told Pap. The jobs would come to the locals who would be needed to help build the lodge house and small cabins for visitors. Lumber would be purchased from the lands of Johnson County’s residents.  Meals in the lodge house would be prepared by the womenfolk to pick up extra funds. Teen daughters and sons who were not sports oriented would be employed by the Rocking J.  Billy Joe Johnson’s staff of 10 would soon become nearly fifty people.

“Honey,” he called out to her, the towel slung low around his hips as he made his way down the hall. Zachary unwillingly had been pulled to his Uncle’s house to spend the night with his new bride.

“I’m in the bedroom,” she called back.

Billy Joe opened the door to find his wife of only two weeks perched upon the bed in one of her really fancy bras and extra special lacy panties, holding the little brown honey bear.

“There you go again in them fancy panties and matching brassiere. You know I could get used to seeing you in all that foofy. Shit hell, I feel like getting on my knees to lick those right offa ya cute little caramel-colored bottom!”

“I didn’t find those words cute on our wedding night, but right now, William, they sound right sexy,” she told him.

“Stand up, Honey,” he told her.

Pecola got on her feet as she watched him round the bed to the other side.

“I tell you what we are going to do,” he said as he walked around the side of the bed.  “I am going to go to the other side of the room and drop this towel, and then meet you in the middle of that bed.”

“...that bed...” she repeated just as she had on the first time they were about to make love.

“Yep. That one right there,” he said as he dropped the towel to the floor.  His strong body, rippled with muscles from baling hay, roping, riding, and being a burly rancher looked as fine as wine next to a thick porterhouse steak. He was ready for her. Unlike their wedding night, tonight she was also ready for him. Billy Joe was trying patiently to fold down the covers, but Pecola grabbed them, yanking the sheeting to the foot of the bed.

“A little anxious, ain’t cha, Honey?” he said with a wry grin.

“Honestly, William, if I don’t make love to you soon, I think I might just burst wide open right here on this floor,” he told her.

“Ain’t those my words?”

“I will give you authoring credit in the footnotes,” she told him as she reached for him, dragging him down into the bed. His body weight landed on top of her. “Right now, I want to get to some jostling.”

“Pecola, we need to talk about the financial aspects of this venture. I don’t feel good about taking your money; your brother’s I don’t have a problem with. That asshole...” Billy Joe grumbled.