Chapter 8
They cuddled naked on the bed for a half hour before finally getting up and dressing.
“I have a steak and baked potato for dinner. Are you ready for a drink?”
“Sounds great. Do we need check on Bear and Shadow?”
“I’m sure they’re fine.”
“I guess I don’t know what happens with a pregnant dog.”
“She’s not in heat and not interested in sex. If Bear is interested, she’ll discourage him. I don’t think we have anything to worry about.” They were in the kitchen. “Scotch?”
“Perfect.”
She slipped two potatoes in the oven, selected two glasses, a bottle of the Glenfiddich, and led the way outside.
It was a warm, late May afternoon. They settled in Adirondacks in the shade with a view of the lake and Canadian Rockies.
Bear and Shadow emerged from the woods, trotting over to settle next to them.
She poured two fingers in each glass and handed one to him.
“To healthy pups.”
Glasses clinked and they each took a drink of the smooth, aged, single malt Scotch.
“Do you have any idea how many pups there’ll be?”
“Average litter is eight. Not unusual to have more. But I’ll have more information soon. In another two weeks, I’ll take Shadow to the vet I used to work for. She’ll do an ultrasound, and we’ll count pups. Very exciting, and we’ll get a sense on how healthy they are.”
“Okay, then. Have you been in touch with Kitty?”
Molly chuckled. “Yes, she sent Bear’s papers, so we’re all set.”
“Good.”
“You didn’t tell me she was a barrel racer.”
“Oh yeah, she’s a barrel racer.”
“Our careers paralleled each other years apart.”
“I’m not surprised. You’ll like her.”
His phrasing assumed they’d meet. She liked that.
“I have some information I’m supposed to give you.”
“Oh, boy.” He sat still, his eyes fixed on the Canadian Rockies.
“She’s going to do her farewell ride at the Omak Stampede and said it will break her heart if you’re not there to watch.”
He chuckled. “Got it. When’s the Stampede?”
“Second week in August. Can you adjust your rotation for that?”
“I’ll work on it.”
“Can I ask questions about your family?”
“I think you already have. The last time we talked about them, you couldn’t stop laughing.”
She ignored the barb. “What do they know about what you’re doing now?”
“And what am I doing now?”
“Living off the grid in the mountains.”
“I think they know that.”
“And how would they know that?”
“I’m sure someone told them.”
“Would that someone happen to be you?”
“It’s possible.”
“Okay, Bart, now you’re making me crazy.”
“Huh?”
“When was the last time you saw your parents?”
“I’d have to think about that.”
Molly started laughing. She couldn’t help herself. Why wouldn’t he talk about his family?
“Has it been years?”
“It’s possible.”
She reached over and slugged him in the shoulder.
“Well, Kitty wants me to provide a report about the latest Bart sighting. What would you like for me to tell them?”
“Tell them everything you know. I’m not hiding anything.”
“You’re hiding where you live.”
“I live in the mountains. What more do you need to know? Does it matter if I live in this valley or that one?”
“Good point. By the way, am I any closer to getting a visit to your place?”
“It’s possible.”
“BAARRTT!”
“Yes, Molly.”
“You’re making me crazy.”
“What did you tell Kitty?”
“I told her that we met when Bear and Shadow got together. I said we spent a weekend together and that you were living off the grid in the mountains. I said you seemed healthy and fine. We didn’t talk about the PTSD.”
“And what did she say?”
“She said the family was pretty worried about you. That’s what gave me the impression they’re in the dark about what you’re up to, except that Kitty did know you were in the Pasayten.”
“Really, that’s all they need to know. I’m healthy, happy, and living in the Pasayten. What more is there to know?”
“Can I take a selfie of us to send to her?”
“Sure.”
Molly pulled out her cell.
“Before you do that, I have a few presents for you.”
“Presents? You trying to get laid?”
“Yes, and it appears to be working.”
He got up and walked into the cabin. Molly liked presents. It wasn’t just the presents. It was that a guy was thinking about her. It was a sign of how thoughtful a guy was.
He walked out with a leather package tied with leather cords and handed it to her.
She looked at the package on her lap. “Couldn’t find any wrapping paper?”
“The Pasayten is short on shopping malls. Have to make do with what’s available.”
She pulled the leather cords and the leather wrapping opened. She couldn’t have been more pleased. He’d made her a leather cowgirl hat, a leather vest, and moccasins that matched his. She brought her hands to her face, overwhelmed.
“Thank you. Amazing.”
She put on the cowgirl hat. It had style, a female version of his, and fit perfectly.
“How’d you get the fit?”
“I took measurements from hats you had in the house.”
She picked up the vest. It had silver bling. She slipped it on. Again, a perfect fit.
“You took my measurements.”
“I love your measurements. Memorized them with my hands.”
“Oh boy, you do want to get laid.”
She picked up the moccasins, taking her heavy duty outdoor shoes off, and slipping them on. They fit beautifully.
“Let me guess, you measured my shoes.”
“It’s possible. How’s the fit?”
“Perfect. How’d you get the cushioned sole?”
“It’s double layered thick leather with fur between. It may feel hard now, but it will form to your foot and protect from rocks and hard objects. It may take a few weeks for the fit to set, but once it does, they’ll feel like an extension of your feet.”
Molly put both on and walked around. They were so comfortable, and she loved the look. They wrapped around her ankle, were tied with fine leather straps, and had two silver pieces like buttons.
“So can we take a photo in the gear?”
“And the dogs.”
Molly was tipsy from the Scotch but pleased.
He wanted a posed photo of the two of them with Bear and Shadow to send to his family.
She felt better. He wasn’t hiding her from his family.
He might not be reaching out to his family, but he was okay with honest communication.
Maybe like lovemaking—he didn’t talk, but he did communicate.
They both adjourned to the bedroom to put on their matching hats, vests, and moccasins.
Molly put a light highlighter on her eyes and played with how her hair tumbled out of the cowgirl hat.
She modeled the vest in the mirror and decided to wear a different blouse, a more western one, to fit the look, and added a bolo tie.
She kept the same jeans on but changed to a rodeo silver buckle belt.
Finally, she put on dangling western silver earrings that matched the silver on her hat, vest, and moccasins.
When they were dressed, they looked at the other and laughed as they returned to the chairs.
“You’re in charge of the camera. I have no idea how to take a selfie.”
“I’m on it. I have a tiny tripod that sits on a stool. I’ll put my cell phone in that and set the timer. Are you thinking two chairs or one?”
“Maybe one chair, you sit in my lap, a dog on each side, a toast of Scotch.”
Molly chuckled. He wasn’t afraid to signal to his family the nature of the relationship.
They summoned the dogs, positioning one on each side.
Bart sat in the chair. Molly adjusted the camera a dozen times until she got it just right, then set the timer for ten seconds.
She stood and surveyed the scene. Perfect.
She started the ten seconds and moved quickly to Bart’s lap.
She wrapped her arm around his neck, gave her sexiest sitting-in-the-cowboy’s-lap-pose, and they clinked glasses with big grins just as the camera clicked.
They repeated the process a half dozen times until they got the perfect shot: both dogs sitting straight and looking at the camera; Molly and Bart with giant laughing grins, faces glowing from the Scotch, sex, and fun; and hats, vests, and moccasins in view.
Molly couldn’t take her eyes off the perfect shot.
If that didn’t make his family feel better, she didn’t know what would.
It sure made her feel better.
When the baked potatoes were almost done, Bart opened a bottle of Walla Walla cabernet and prepared the steaks for the barbeque, lightly rubbing olive oil over the surface and adding salt and pepper.
Molly made a green salad, and gathered chives, butter, sour cream, and bacon bits for the potato.
Bart was working the barbeque when Molly came out with potatoes, salad and potato fixings.
She finished the table set, poured two glasses of wine, and sat down, awaiting delivery of the rare rib-eyes.
They were both wearing their leather outfits, happy from three glasses of Scotch, vigorous afternoon sex, and the prospect of a steak dinner. Bart set a steak on each plate. Molly added salad and a potato.
He sat down and lifted his glass. “Thank you for a lovely day.”
Molly was emotional. The day had been so perfect, and she’d been so nervous.
She was so relieved when he wanted to stay at the cabin.
Then a fun shower and sensational sex, followed by happy hour, the posed selfie, and dinner.
She was happy. Not surface happy. Deep down happy.
If asked if she could be doing anything in the world right at that moment, she would have answered exactly this. He was getting in her head.
“So can I send the photo to Kitty?”
“Of course.”
“It’s going to make your family happy to see you like that.”
“Whatever.”
Well, he wasn’t going to talk about that, but he’d not only agreed to the photo, he’d enhanced it with the leather gifts and the recommended pose with a dog on each side.
“So what happens tomorrow?”
“Business day.”
“And what does that mean?”
“A video conference in the morning with my VA therapist. Then, in the afternoon, provisioning and some internet business.”