Chapter 16 #2
As the end approached, she was hot, gasping, and groaning on every thrust. The pressure on her spot was perfect, his shaft working hard against her place.
His final flurry induced her first contraction, and she felt his release shortly after.
Panting, moaning, and groaning, they processed the internal spasms until they slowed, then stopped.
Out of breath, he held her against the rock, both breathing hard, both chuckling.
That wasn’t planned. Molly held his torso tight, not ready for his release.
Her face against his chest, she could feel his heart beating and the final pulses deep inside.
If she could design a man from scratch, she wouldn’t do anything differently.
Not one thing. A stud cowboy who grew up on a ranch, loved riding horses, lived off the grid in the wilderness, and who had a perfect mate for Shadow.
She kissed his neck and signaled it was okay to withdraw.
It was time to get back to the pups.
They made the return trip with speed, trotting the horses down the forest trail, then opening it up on the flat.
Molly couldn’t remember a more satisfying ride, looking frequently over at Bart expertly managing Outlaw on a full gallop.
It didn’t get any better than midday sex at a wilderness viewpoint.
The stables in view, they slowed to a trot, then a walk for the final cool down.
Molly walked the horses back to the stables and let stable workers brush them down. She was anxious to get back to the pups. Dusty may have cooled down, but Molly was radiating a deep, satisfying heat that had her neck and face still hot.
She was imagining Betsy’s report to Evelyn after Betsy saw her face in a full Scottish, after-sex flush.
Betsy gave her a private double eyebrow raise when she saw Molly’s face, but didn’t say anything. She gave the full report.
“Let’s see. It went something like this. Eat, sleep, squirm; eat, sleep, squirm; repeat. I had to change the pads. They’re starting to pee. Won’t be long before they’re pooping.”
Molly said, “Don’t know how to thank you for this.”
“How was Lookout Ridge?” She was looking at Bart.
“Spectacular. Molly said the two of you used to ride up there.”
“Only about a million times. And never once got tired of it. Good times, huh, Bets?”
“The best.”
Molly said, “Got to think of something nice to do for Betsy. That was really thoughtful to watch the pups so we could ride.”
“I’ll make her a fly.”
“Huh?”
“She’s big into fishing. Her fly collection in the store is impressive. I check on it when I’m in. She knows what she’s doing.”
“She’s a world class fly fisherwoman. Do you make flies?”
“A hobby, like working with leather. If you grow up on a ranch in Montana, you fly fish, and making flies is part of the deal.”
“Well, if you did, she’d love it.”
“I’ll work on it.”
“What’s up?”
Bart was up and moving around.
“I thought we should give Pup five a decent burial. Did you want to name him?”
“I’d like to. What’s your plan?”
“No real plan. I thought we’d bury him in a corner of the yard and plant a small larch seedling above. That way, when you see the larch turning yellow in the fall, he’ll be remembered.”
Molly had nothing to say to that.
“Okay?”
“Perfect. Let’s name him and I’ll help.”
She retrieved the list of names and followed Bart out the door. He went to the shed, retrieved a shovel, and said, “Where would you like him?”
Molly looked around in her yard and finally pointed toward the end of a row of pines. “A larch would look nice there.”
Bart walked over with the shovel, and quickly dug down about eighteen inches before walking over to the road that led to the cabin. “I saw a cluster of larch seedlings over here earlier. Mind if I transfer one?”
“Please do.”
He dug up a seedling with his shovel and carried it with a clump of dirt to the burial site.
“Got a name?”
Molly was working through the list. “How about Rocky?”
“Rocky it is.”
Bart leaned down and carefully laid Rocky at the bottom of the newly dug grave and shoveled dirt on top, leaving an impression for the seedling. On his knees, he worked the larch seedling into the soft dirt. The deed done, he stood and held Molly’s hand, as they respectfully stood over the grave.
Molly said, “Rocky, we hope your next journey works out better than this one. But we were proud to have you in Bear and Shadow’s litter. Godspeed.”
Molly let Bart put together a happy hour platter. She noticed an interesting email had just popped in on her phone and she wanted to read it. She went to her comfortable chair in the living room and settled in. The email was from Cassie McKinnon.
Hi Molly,
We haven’t met, but I feel like I know you.
I’m Bart’s mother. At my request, Kitty gave me your email address so I could write this note.
Mainly, I wanted to say thanks for the amazing photos you’ve been sending to Kitty.
I know those weren’t just random shots you clicked off.
Each one is beautifully composed, little works of art, really.
And I can’t adequately express how much it means to me to see Bart happy after what he’s been through.
The expressions on his face remind me of the Bart we raised here at the ranch. He looks so happy with you.
Kitty may have mentioned that the family is planning a trip to the Omak Stampede to see Kitty’s farewell ride, see Bart, and hopefully to meet you.
Thank you again for your thoughtfulness in including Bart’s family in your new friendship. And please keep the photos coming.
Warmly,
Cassie McKinnon
Molly read the email at least ten times before getting up. She couldn’t explain why the note moved her so much, but it did.
For some reason, she chose to not tell Bart about the email she’d just received from his mother. They were situated in the Adirondacks in the shade. Bart had poured the Scotch and they had a platter of meat, cheese, and crackers.
“Tell me about Cassie McKinnon.”
Bart looked at her curiously, his mind obviously whirring, but his stoic cowboy upbringing keeping his poker face in place.
“One hundred percent cowgirl.”
“Huh? I thought she was a high school English teacher.”
“That’s her job and she’s very good at it. But she grew up on the ranch next door. She and Dad dated in high school and married soon after. The merger of the ranches has been a long, complicated process.”
“So she can ride?”
That earned a full-bellied laugh from Bart. She hadn’t heard him laugh like that. Mostly he chuckled, but he found that funny. He finished his laugh and said, “Yes, she can ride.”
“What was the laugh about? Either she can’t ride very well or she can really ride.”
“She can really ride.”
“And what does that mean?”
“Queen of the Northwest Montana Rodeo, barrel racer, calf roper, jockey, trick rider.”
“Oh boy. She can really ride.”
“And she’s got the fastest horse in Western Montana.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“They’re beautiful together. Kitty and Mom compete in relay races. No one can touch them.”
Molly loved hearing Bart talk about his mother. The pride in his voice was apparent.
“She still rides?”
“Every day. She’s fifty-five and rides like she’s eighteen. She’s one hundred percent cowgirl.”
“She sent me a nice note today thanking me for the photos. Did you know the whole family is coming for Kitty’s farewell ride?”
“I was figuring it out.”
“That okay?”
“Sure.”