Montana Love: Multicultural Romance (4 page)

 

Chapter 6

 

The next morning Cynthia was awakened by a cluster of birds chirping and dancing in perfect harmony at the feeder outside of her bedroom window. She fixed herself a cup of coffee and sauntered lazily outside to the front porch.  Surprised, she saw Dex Callahan in the distance, working. 

 

Dex had just come from the barn, guiding a tall, brown horse into the sunny area near the front porch. He was dressed in weathered jeans and a dark t-shirt. Brown Cowboy boots with spurs looked sexy at the bottom of his powerful, slightly bowed legs.

 

“Now what’s a good-looking ethnic man like you doing all the way out here in no-man’s land?”  Cynthia asked, gesturing around at the majestic Montana peaks clambering for the vast open sky. Dexter appeared to be a little bit of all nationalities:  white, black, Native American, to name a few, and she was never one to hold her tongue when she wanted to know something. It often caught people off guard, one of the things that made her a good attorney.

 

It was barely dawn, and Cynthia had one of the best night’s sleep she’d had in a long time. Feeling bright-eyed and bushy tailed, she knew she was openly flirting. But what harm could it be? After all, she would be back in San Francisco in no time at all, so a little superficial flirting with the likes of Dex Callahan could do no harm at all.

 

Dex smiled, revealing those irresistible dimples.  “Good-looking?” he chuckled, discounting her ‘ethnic’ comment.

 

“Yes, good-looking,” she chuckled, realizing he’d ignored part of her comment. It didn’t matter to her; people were just people, but it was curious, because he stuck out like a sore thumb in Cattlewood, judging from the ride from the airport and her drive into the little town’s Main Street area with Thelma. The area was lily white, though the people seemed warm, accepting, and a tad-bit nosey. 

 

“Well thank you, Miss Alexander,” he said, glancing over at her.

 

His eyes traveling her body gave her warm fuzzies.

 

Pleased with herself for letting her hair down and going with the flow, Cynthia continued the flirt.

 

“You’re quite welcome,” she smiled, taking a sip from her bowl-like coffee cup.

 

The fresh Montana air and the mountain breeze was already making her feel like she was on a real vacation, so she was noticeably less guarded to her own self.

 

She was clad in a gauzy white shirt that landed mid-thigh. Large, fuzzy white slippers covered her feet, but for painted pink toenails peeking out. The tousle of jet black hair cradling her shoulders was sexy in the morning light. And though Dex tried not to stare, the silhouette of her pert bosom and nipples standing at attention visible through her night shirt could not be ignored. “You’re an attractive lady yourself.”

 

Cynthia followed his brilliant blue eyes to her bosom.  She smiled in embarrassment as she realized her shirt was see-thru in the morning sunlight. Lifting her cup to her mouth to shield her bosom, she breathed, “Thank you.”

 

Dex was warmed by her blushing, and the sudden sensation of blood rushing through his loins made him want to pull her into his arms, steal a kiss, and slip his hands under the soft, flowing fabric and touch what he knew was ecstasy underneath.

 

Cynthia was just about to ask if he wanted a cup of coffee when a pretty woman emerged from the barn. Her curvy frame wiggled over to Dex, and she planted a kiss on his cheek, just shy of his lips. “I’m leaving,” she said in local drawl, a big smile on her face. “Do you need anything from town?”

 

“No, I’m fine,” Dex said. “You be careful on the road, and don’t get into any trouble.”

 

Dex caught Cynthia’s look. He knew what she was thinking, but she couldn’t have been more wrong.

 

Cynthia looked at the woman with the flowing blond tresses.
What was he doing in Montana?
It was now clear.  She involuntarily sighed.

 

He could sense what was probably going through Cynthia’s mind by the tiny daggers in her eyes.  She tried to hide it, but it oozed from her like a little river. She thought Apple was his woman.

 

A secret smile pinned to his heart, Dex decided he’d let her steep a little longer. He rather enjoyed her being jealous; it meant she was interested in him, too.

 

Chapter 7

 

A long, dusty station wagon reminiscent of the Partridge Family and the 70s’ came squelching up into the yard. 

 

Cynthia heard the car before she saw it.

 

Dex heard it, too. He came from the barn to greet who he knew was Miss Emma and help get little Carson settled.

 

“Hello, Miss Emma,” Dex said, opening the car door on the driver’s side.

 

“Hi there Dex. How are you doing today, looking fine as ever?”

 

Dex waived off the old lady’s flirt, which always caught him off guard. She was pushing at least 85-years- old, but she flirted openly as if she were an appropriate age for him.

 

“I’m fine, Miss Emma,” he said, peeking in the car for Carson. The boy was already out, running like a bullet in front of the car toward him.

 

“Hey Buddy,” Dex said, swooping the giggling child up into his arms. “What have I told you about running in front of the car?”

 

“Sorry,” the little boy laughed. “I forgot!”

 

“Well don’t do that again, okay?”

 

“I won’t,” he said, wiggling out of Dex’s arms and flying up the front steps, falling into Cynthia. 

 

She tried to help him up, but he was too quick. “I got it, I got it,” he said, brushing himself off.

 

“Hi,” he said, looking up at Cynthia with big green eyes. His wily, chestnut curls were all over his head.  Rosy, chubby cheeks made him look like the ring leader of the Little Rascals. 

 

Hi,” she said, smiling at his independent nature.  “I’m Carson Hagen,” he said with authority. “Who are you?” He placed his pudgy fingers on his short hips and waited for her to answer.

 

“I’m a friend of your mommy and daddy’s,” Cynthia said, squatting so they were eye level. “I’m Miss Cynthia and I will be staying with you for a little while until your parents get back home.”

 

“Oh,” he said. “Do you like to play, because mommy plays with me all the time?”

 

Cynthia looked over at Dex and the older lady, who were watching. She wiggled her fingers in a wave to acknowledge Miss Emma.

 

 

“Sure, I like to play,” Cynthia said.

 

“Okay then. You can stay,” Carson said. “She can stay!” he hollered over to Dex.

 

All Cynthia could do was chuckle. She covered her mouth to stifle a giggle. Carson
was
a handful; she could see that. But they would get along just fine. The kid had moxie that’s all; and he was clearly one of those brainy children, too old for their age. Yes; they would get along just fine.

 

After spending a few more minutes chatting with Carson, Cynthia and the boy walked hand-in-hand in the yard so she could meet Miss Emma.

 

After Carson finished introducing her, Miss Emma turned to Cynthia.

 

“Well aren’t you as pretty as pie,” the old lady said. “And fresh, too,” she glanced at Dex giving her approval. Not like some of these gals running round here.”

 

Cynthia was shocked at the seemingly nice little lady’s comment.

 

Dex knew Miss Emma was referring to his own sister.  He dropped his head and avoided the conversation. He’d learned long ago to carefully choose his battles. Apple had spun a reputation in Cattlewood, and it was not a good one.

 

Cynthia gave the woman a curious glance, wondering what that was all about. 

 

“I’m sorry sugar, I didn’t mean to talk about you like you weren’t standing right there.”

 

Miss Emma chatted a few minutes more before telling her she lived not too far away if she needed anything. She reminded her she would be picking Carson up for bible study soon.

 

“You kids have a good night,” she said.  “And Carson, you behave yourself for this nice lady, or as God is my witness, I will get my switch,” Miss Emma warned behind a wagging finger.

 

“Yes, ma’am,” the little boy said, suddenly sounding his age.

 

“Do you want to come in, have something to eat?” Cynthia asked Dex after Miss Emma drove off. She caught herself as quickly as she’d said it, remembering the blonde who had planted him with a kiss.

 

Dex hesitated, looking down at his sweaty and dirty appearance. 

 

“You can bring, err, your girlfriend,” Cynthia added quickly so he didn’t get the wrong idea.

 

Dex looked at her and smiled.

 

“You mean my
sister
,” he said. 

 

Cynthia gave him a puzzled looked.

 

“The girlfriend I assume you’re referring to is the lady from the barn.”  He nodded toward the barn where Apply had kissed him earlier. 

 

Cynthia nodded.

 

“That was Apple “And she’s my dear sister.”

 

“But…”

 

“Color doesn’t make family,” he said, knowing what she was getting ready to say. It wouldn’t have been the first time a newcomer to the area questioned it.

 

Cynthia smiled, feeling silly. “You’re right, and I’m sorry,” she said, suddenly remembering the lady Martin had had the affair with was named Apple, too. She knew it had to be the same lady.  Small town. Cynthia shelved the thought, just relieved the lady was not Dex’s woman.  “Let’s start over,” she said.  “Would you like to come in for some dinner?”

 

“I would love to,” he said. “But let me freshen up first,” he gestured toward his homestead in the distance.  In one swoop, he hopped up on the tall stallion.

 

“Good, we’ll see you in a little while. And bring an appetite, because Thelma left a huge casserole.”

 

Dex smiled, already knowing it was the meatball, sweet potato, and macaroni casserole he’d prepared and given to Thelma. It was Carson’s favorite meal, one they had created together.

 

“Come on, Carson,” Cynthia said. “I have a snack for you in the house.”

 

“But I want to go with Uncle Dex.  Carson pulled away from Cynthia, but the look on his face told her he was half-way considering the snack.

 

“Stay with Cynthia, Bud,” Dex said, using the nickname he’d given the child. “Your favorite meal is in the house already.” 

 


Our
recipe
?”
the boy asked.

 

“Mm-hmmm,” Dex said, smiling.

 

Carson inched back toward Cynthia.

 

“Go ahead, I’ll be right back,” he chuckled. He and the child did have a special bond. Dex treated Carson as if he were kin; he treated him the way he would have liked his blood father, had he known him, to treat him.

 

Cynthia reached her hand out to Carson.

 

“Go on,” Dex laughed.  “I don’t
think
she’ll bite.”

 

Cynthia picked up on his flirtatious undertone.

 

Carson put his hand in hers.

 

Cynthia mouthed a thank you before Dex dipped his head and rode off in the distance.

 

The boy looked up at Cynthia staring at Dex’s wide frame galloping away on top of the horse.

 

He tugged at her hand so she would look down at him. “Are you and my Uncle Dex going to get married?”

 

Cynthia chuckled and clasped her hand snug around the child’s fingers.

 

“Come on little one,” she laughed. “Let’s get you fed.”

 

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