Montana Love: Multicultural Romance

Montana Love

Published by

Stone Cottage Books

Cassandra Black

http://www.StoneCottageBooks.com

Copyright © 2015 by Cassandra Black

Manufactured in the United States

Overview

Cynthia Alexander is on her way to the Midwest to babysit her godson.   Her friend Thelma and her husband have planned a long overdue honeymoon, and Cynthia has agreed to help out.

Two weeks in Cattlewood, a sleepy Montana town -- hold-up on a ranch with a feisty four-year-old -- is certainly not her idea of a relaxing vacation, but the timing really couldn’t be more perfect. The law firm is in the midst of relocating its downtown offices to another building, and everyone’s caseload is coming to a strategic halt.

Cynthia knows a break from her fast-paced career as a corporate attorney will do her some good because she’s been on the fast-track too long.

While many of her friends from college are married with children, in Cynthia’s world, settling down is nowhere on the radar -- especially in the midst of competing for the coveted partnership position at hand. No husband and babies for her, and she likes it that way just fine … but for those occasional moments of loneliness in the middle of the night. 

But unforeseen circumstances suddenly thrust her into a position where she’s left as guardian of the little boy, and life as she’s known it comes to a screeching halt. She’s suddenly a single mother in an environment that is as foreign to her as running a ranch.

***

Handsome rancher Dexter Callahan can see the little lady is out of her element in Sheppard County, especially with
Dennis the Menace
underfoot. The boy is a handful; Dex knows from personal experience.  Carson gives his own mother a run for her money, so it amuses him to see Cynthia trying to keep up.

Dexter would like nothing more than to help the newcomer get settled -- for the child’s sake and for his own personal reasons -- if she wasn’t so stubborn and hell-bent on leaving. 

***

Cynthia has decided this cannot be her fate. She has one thing on her mind:  getting back to San Francisco.  But after a little while, she can’t deny there is something irresistible about Montana, the little boy … and Dexter Callahan. Spending time with them has her taking a closer and sometimes painful look at her priorities and how she’s been living her life, and it has her reconsidering the idea of settling in the Midwest. 

Chapter 1

“Hi Thelma,” Cynthia clasped the sleek silver iPhone between her neck and shoulder. “Yes, I’m looking forward to it,” she said to her friend on the other end.  “I’ve been so swamped here, I swear I need the break.” She simultaneously mouthed and motioned to her secretary to take the stack of binders on her desk into the conference room for her meeting with the partners.

“Hold on, Thelma,” she said, covering the phone with her free hand.  “Thank you Margaret,” she said to the secretary. “And please call Mr. Stringer and tell him I can meet with him if he can make it over here within the next two hours.”

It was 7:30 a.m.; Cynthia had been in the office since three that morning.

“But you already have Mr. Daily and Mrs. Witherspoon before your flight,” Margaret reminded her with stretched eyes.

“It’s okay, squeeze him in please.” 

The middle-aged lady with the round, brown face nodded as she took the files from her boss. As she eased the office door closed behind her, she shook her head from side to side.  “That woman is going to spontaneously combust if she doesn’t slow down soon,” she muttered to herself.

“Sorry about that, Thelma,” Cynthia cradled the phone back under her neck. “It’s been a mad house around here with the office relocation looming. Everybody is trying to get everything done before the big move.”

Cynthia sat down at her oversized desk and began pecking away on her laptop.

“Are you sure this is a good time for you to be taking off and coming out here?” her friend asked.

“Thelma, we agreed to this months ago, so don’t you dare.  Yes, this is the perfect time,” she said, all the while knowing the last thing in the world she needed to be doing now was taking a two-week hiatus. But Thelma needed her, and she would be there. Period.  “Besides, it will give me a chance to get to know my godson. I haven’t seen him since he was, what…?”

“Let’s see, Carson was two when we were in California for Martin’s brother’s wedding,” Thelma offered.  “But I warn you, the boy is four going on forty,” Thelma chuckled.

“Well, I look forward to seeing him.” Cynthia glanced at her watch, knowing she still had a lot to do before she left for the airport.

The women had been friends since college. Married for almost eight years, Thelma and her husband Martin had never really taken a proper honeymoon. But things were looking good after years of working to make the ranch profitable.  A formal escape was finally on the horizon for the two of them.

“You don’t know what this means to us.”

“Oh stop.” That’s what friends are for.  Now let me get off this phone so I’m not late for my flight this afternoon.”

“Alright, travel safely, love you honey,” Thelma said.

“I will, love you, too,” Cynthia smiled.

As she slid her phone back down on the desk, her arm clipped the cold coffee she’d been sipping on earlier.  The careening cup splashed brown liquid all over her desk.

“Jeez!” she said, as the puddle of dark fluid streamed its way down onto her crème-colored Donna Karan suit.

Cynthia’s mind flitted to the partners waiting in the conference room. It was the initial meeting designed to ‘feel’ potential applicants out for the partnership position that was slated to be filled over the next several months. They called it an informal meeting, but she did not see anything at all informal about meeting with the top brass to see if she would fit into the elite partners’ club, positions everyone knew were quietly slated for men at the law firm.

Glancing at her watch, she realized there was nothing she could do about the coffee decorating her suit with less than five minutes to spare; her condo was fifteen minutes away on a good traffic morning.

Cynthia sighed as she wiped at her suit with a napkin before opening her office door and heading toward the conference room. 

Vacation was not coming a minute too soon!

“What happened to you?” Eric Jackson, her primary rival for the position, teased a little too eagerly as he spotted her striding with her head held high down the hallway.

“Go fuck yourself Eric,” she retorted before taking a deep breath and opening the conference room door.

“Gentlemen,” she said with a bright, confident smile. “Good morning.” 

She saw all of their eyes drop simultaneously to the large, black spill decorating her pencil-thin, knee-length skirt.

A couple of the men glanced at each other.

But Cynthia strode on into the room, as if she was as clean as a whistle. “Please forgive my appearance,” she let out a little laugh as if it was no big deal. “I’ve been at the office since three a.m. working on the Goldstein file.”

Dean Goldstein was the firm’s most lucrative account.

Several of the partners dipped their heads approvingly.

Cynthia swore she could see blinking dollar signs dancing in their eyes.

“I’m afraid I had a little accident, but I did
not
want to keep you gentlemen waiting, because I know time is money, as Bernard always says,” she sang, referring to the managing partner, with all the charm she could muster.  “Shall we begin?”

The men stood up and nodded as she took her seat at the table.

Chapter 2

Several hours later …

Finally on the airplane, Cynthia laid her head back and exhaled.  She had successfully fit in all of her clients, taken a mountain of work with her, and she had gone over the status of her current caseload with her paralegal and secretary, instructing them to call or email her any time, day or night, if there were fires that had to be put out in her absence from the office.

As the plane prepared for takeoff, she smiled a little, pleased at the initial informal interview with the partners.

There was still a lot of work to do, but she was almost certain the partnership position could be hers if she kept her nose to the grindstone. At Ebert, Smith and Cooper, she believed money would ultimately trump gender.  Of the three primary applicants, not only had she been at the firm the longest, but she had the most billable hours, and it didn’t hurt she had a great rapport with the firm’s most lucrative client.

Unless something catastrophic happened, things would work out just fine, she told herself.

Cynthia peeked out the window as the plane lifted from the tarmac into the air.  It felt odd being out of the office and not in route to a meeting in another city. Until that moment, she hadn’t fully realized how much of a whirlwind her life had been. Taking another deep breath, she relaxed her shoulders against the plush seat and reflected on her life … 

***

It had been eight years since she had graduated from law school and landed her first job as a corporate associate at a mid-level San Francisco firm. After getting some years under her belt, she finally received an offer from the coveted firm of Ebert, Smith and Cooper after having courted them for years.

But it was not all for naught; after many long hours, missed social outings and the sacrificing of a personal life, Cynthia was exactly where she wanted to be in life: on the brink of being a major player at a prestigious law firm.

She had all but given up on dating -- at least dating in the traditional sense:  with the intention of finding a husband, settling down and starting a family.

Sure, she got lonely sometimes, and she often wondered what it would feel like to be married and have children. But it was just nowhere in sight.  Part of it was because there was just no time; there weren’t enough hours in the day as it was trying to keep up with her work, exercise, and the few engagements she did afford herself.

The other part was fear.  Her greatest fear was getting old and not being able to support herself; wondering where the next dollar would come from to feed herself … and her children if she had them.

That grave fear stilled her in a place where she did not let anyone, particularly men, get too close.  Over time, she didn’t know how to share emotion, beyond surface feelings; and she certainly didn’t know how to give -- or receive -- love when it came to relationships.   

After some years, that distance became a habit, a
comfortable
norm, she began to convince herself. 

***

Cynthia teared up as she thought about her mama, Mattie Alexander.  She was a good mother; the best, and she would do anything for her daughters.  When their father passed, she rolled up her sleeves and took on both roles, raising her young girls alone.  Cynthia often wondered how she did it all.

Their mother demanded she and her older sister Gail go to college. Cynthia was always in awe when she talked to some of her friends about what they were going to do after graduation. They actually had a choice. But college was not up for debate, negotiation, anything.
Not
going was simply not an option in Mattie Alexander’s house.

Under their mother’s stern guidance, both she and her sister ultimately won scholarships to good schools.

Cynthia giggled when she remembered the time she had notions of wanting to run off with a drummer she thought she was madly in love with. She thought she was going to be a singer in his band.  Her mama told her she was 17 and almost grown. She said if she wanted to go, she would not try to stop her. But she reminded her if she left home with that boy, she needed to stay gone.

“You think I’ve struggled tooth and nail, working my fingers to the bone at that post office to provide and raise you proper, so you can throw your life away behind some boy?” her mother asked her the night she caught her trying to sneak out the bedroom window.  “No sir! If you leave my house tonight, you stay gone, because as long as you’re under my roof, you’re going to abide by my rules, and that means going to college. It’s your choice.”

She promptly eased back inside and climbed back into her bed that night.

Cynthia replayed her mother’s mantra many times in her head when she felt like she was getting away from her lessons in college and away from her work after graduation, long after her mother had succumbed to diabetes. 

“Stay in school, get your education, and learn to support yourself,” she preached over and over again. “And don’t be getting no babies. All that will come after you can feed your own self. Leave these men and these babies alone. God will send you the right one after you make your way in this world.”

When she had those inevitable moments of feeling like she was falling for this man or that one, her mother’s words always came to her after a particularly heated evening.

To Cynthia, making her way in the world meant making partner.

Her older sister, Gail, had done the opposite.  Before graduating from college, to the chagrin of her mother, she had gotten pregnant and moved from their home in Queens, to the South. Gail met her boyfriend at NYU. He promised he’d marry her and they would become a family if she moved away with him. Cynthia knew their mother’s heart was broken when her oldest child left home. 

A couple of months before the baby was even born, Gail’s boyfriend left her at his mother’s house in Chattanooga.

Too embarrassed to come back home to New York, she stayed on in Tennessee.

Soon after giving birth, the young man tipped back around and Gail fell for his sweet talking again. He left her with another swollen belly before going back to NYU to finish school.  On welfare and ending up in government assisted housing, her sister’s plight scared her even more. So she steered clear of men -- and certainly any possibility of having children -- like they were the plague.

Though she did sometimes find herself wondering what it would be like to have a family of her own …

As she loosened her seatbelt and repositioned herself in her seat, she dozed off after peeking out at the fast-disappearing skyline of San Francisco below.

***

A little while later …

Coming out of a deep slumber, Cynthia peered at her watch. She knew they would be landing soon.

“Can I take that for you, ma’am?” the flight attendant interrupted her thoughts, pointing to the coffee cup on the little tray jutting out from the seat in front of her. She was doing her final walk through the cabin.

“Yes, thank you,” she nodded up at the flight attendant, handing her the cup.

The captain came over the loud speaker … “It is a pleasant seventy six degrees in Billings today. Not a cloud in the sky. If you look out your window to the right, you can enjoy an interrupted view of Pryor Mountains, a one hundred and forty five thousand square-mile range that spans Montana and Wyoming.”

Cynthia craned her neck to take in the majestic view. The Midwest was stunning country. The green valleys and rugged, icicled peaks of the mountaintops; the wide-open sky; and the masses and of land that appeared endless tugged at a special place in her heart that held a foreign yearning just revealing itself.

“Your first time in Montana?” the man next to her asked, following her wide gaze at the scenic wonder out the window of the aircraft.

“Yes, it is,” she said. 

“What brings you out?” he asked shuffling papers about in his briefcase.

“Visiting to watch my four-year-old godson for a couple of weeks,” she said with pride. “My girlfriend and her husband are taking a long-overdue honeymoon.”

“That’s very nice of you,” the man said. She noticed the gold wedding band on his fingers.  “Two weeks with a four-year old. You’re a good friend.”

“I try to be,” Cynthia said, pleased with herself.

“We’ll be landing in about twenty minutes, a little earlier than expected,” the captain continued. “Make sure your seatbelts are fastened as we prepare for our final descent into Billings Logan International Airport.”

***

Less than an hour later, Cynthia was in the passenger’s seat of Thelma’s husband’s truck, headed to their ranch in Cattlewood, a tiny enclave of Sheppard County.

“It sure is good to see you, Cynthia,” Martin said.  Martin was a handsome, brawny man of medium height.  His headful of wiry red hair showcased the Irish in his blood.

“You too, Martin. You, too. I can’t believe it’s been over two years.”

“Time flies, indeed,” he said. But we know you’ve been busy out there in Cali’.”

“Yes, trying to make it.”

He shook his head in understanding.  ”Just a little warning,” he said.  “Thelma is a Nervous Nellie about leaving Carson,” Martin smiled over at her. 

“I know, she’s always been a Nervous Nellie, ever since college.” Cynthia remembered Thelma having to pop Xanax on a regular basis to control her bouts of anxiety and depression.

“How are you all getting along, Mr. Hagen?” Cynthia asked.

He sighed. “As you know, we had some rough starting years with the ranch. With over half the horses being wiped out by the virus...” His voice trailed off, as if reliving those treacherous years when a number of breeders in southeastern Montana suffered.  A deadly horse disease spread by a species of biting midge had crippled area ranchers.

Cynthia reached over and rubbed him on the shoulder. “But you all made it through it,” she reminded him.   He was a big man, yet she could see it still affected him.

“Yes, we made it, but by the grace of God, because we could have lost the entire herd. I know we were lucky. Some folks lost as much as ninety percent of their herd within a week.”

“You all were lucky indeed,” Cynthia said.

She wanted to know about the ranch, too, but her question was really about him and Thelma, as a couple. “Now, how are you and Thelma doing … you know?” she asked, gesturing with her hand.

Martin looked over at Cynthia, knowing what she was asking.  He knew his wife had told her about their marital problems a few years back.

“No complaints on this end, but my wife may have a different take on things,” Martin laughed nervously.

“No matter what, I know for a fact Thelma is as crazy about you now as she was the day she met you,” Cynthia said. “I can hear it in her voice every time we’re on the phone.”

“I love her to pieces, but I’ve made a few, let’s just say, errors in judgment.”

Cynthia knew he was talking about the woman Thelma referred to as Apple. 

“I’m still not quite sure why she married a poor rancher when she had so many other options in her world.”

“Because her world was
you
,” Cynthia reminded him, always knowing Martin felt inadequate because he wasn’t a wealthy man -- a lifestyle that had belonged to Thelma since birth.

“I love my wife, but God knows I’m not perfect.”

Cynthia felt like Martin wanted to say something else, but he didn’t. “Nobody is,” she said, taking a sip from the bottle of spring water in her hand.  “And I would bet my life on that.”