Lyndee's Saviors [Men of Montana] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (2 page)

“Yes ma’am,” they replied in unison as Trey picked up the remote and pressed the power to turn on the fifty-inch flat panel TV mounted over the fireplace, ignoring her request to call Austin. Flipping through the channels he landed on a sports channel, broadcasting a baseball game from Denver. It wasn’t that they were really into sports since there were no professional teams in the state, but it was a way to wind down after a day on the range. A few minutes later the screen door opened and slammed against the wall, letting in the tall man who was their foreman and cousin.

“Supper ready yet?” he asked, plopping down onto the matching leather sofa to the right side of the fireplace.

“Not quite,” Trey said, tossing the remote onto the small round table between the two recliners. Raising his voice slightly for emphasis, he answered, “According to the boss lady, about another ten minutes or so.”

A loud “humph” was expelled from the kitchen as the announcer on the TV began an excited tirade announcing the ball flying through the air and the crowd cheering, catching the men’s attention. Watching the game through the excitement of the homerun to the next couple of pitches, supper was finally announced and all three men crowded into the kitchen and around the sink to wash up.

Martha stood at the end of the granite countertop, arms crossed across her chest in irritation. “Why do y’all have to wash up in here all the time? There are perfectly good bathrooms and a mudroom for you to do that in.”

Chuckling, the men finished up, dried their hands, and crowded around the small table in the breakfast nook that had been built as an addition for their mother. It jutted out from the kitchen with a bay window effect on the outer wall, though the windows themselves were floor to ceiling and faced the western mountain range. The sun was setting at the moment, though none of them paid any attention to it as they began serving up the bounty that sat upon the table.

“I hope y’all remember I’m leaving in the morning for my cruise,” Martha said, playing with the food on her plate.

“We did,” Trey said soberly. “I hope you have a wonderful time.”

“We’ll miss you greatly,” Storm said setting down his fork. “You deserve it after you raised us and all.”

“Perhaps you’ll find the man of your dreams while out on the high seas,” Austin joked.

“The man of my dreams doesn’t even know I exist,” she said discouragingly. The boys knew she was thinking about Tom at the steakhouse in town. She had had her eye on him for some time, but he was always too busy to pay any attention to her.

“Oh, he notices you,” said the youngest brother jokingly, taking a bite of fried chicken. “He’s just afraid of you.”

The two elbows, one from each side, slammed into his chest and the foot that kicked from beneath the table surprised him. “Ouch!”

“Have some respect for the old woman, will ya,” Storm said. “She can’t help it if she’s mean.”

He felt the kick from her foot on his shin also, though he remained silent. There were many bruises on their legs from their housekeeper as the trio of men didn’t know how to hold their tongue around her. Like a mother to them, but also a bit of sounding board to their many dilemmas and pranks, they knew how far to push her and when to back off. Now was the time to back off.

“Who’s taking you to Butte to the airport?” Trey asked, shoveling a mouthful of mashed potatoes into his mouth.

“Ginger is. She’ll be here at five in the morning.”

Noticing her melancholy mood, the three men watched her out of concern. Trey nudged Storm to say, “Is there something wrong Martha?”

Rinsing her dish off before setting it in the dishwasher, she sighed loudly before letting the tears begin to fall. “Yes. I’m going to miss you guys.”

The trio of men stood up to their full heights of over six feet and surrounded the woman who they held in such high regard within their home. They respected her even though they threw their barbs at her occasionally. She was a part of their small family and always would be.

“Martha,” Trey started, lifting her chin with two large fingers. “We are going to miss you greatly as Storm said, but you have been here every day for us since Mom and Dad died. You put up with us day in and day out. You deserve this vacation. You deserve to have fun. Let your hair down, live a little.”

Pulling the middle-aged woman into his arms, Storm hugged her like he did his own mother many years ago, “Yes Martha, though I wish you would have let us pay for the trip. You deserve it for putting up with us.”

“And what am I supposed to spend my money on then?” she joked, her face smashed against the dusty shirt spanning the man’s wide chest.

Murmurs made their way around the three men but none could really give an answer. Pulling away from Storm, she let the other two men hug her before going over and clearing the table. As she began to rinse the dishes, she began going over a list of things for them to follow. “There are casseroles in the freezer in the garage for you. One for each night I’m gone. I’m sure you can fend for yourselves for breakfast and lunch. Just take out a casserole each morning and let it thaw and put it in the oven for about forty-five minutes to cook. Except for what you are wearing, there are enough clean clothes to last the two weeks I’ll be gone. I’ll do the washing when I return. Just pile any mail I get on the stand inside the door of the cottage. If I have a problem with a ride home, I’ll call you on your cell to arrange something, but otherwise you should be all set.”

“Yes ma’am,” the three agreed.

Each man stepped up to kiss her on the cheek before going and settling down in the living room. A somber mood hung over the room as the evening wore on and finally none of them could stand it anymore and each went to their own rooms.

Martha had been a stable fixture in their home as long as they could remember. After Trey and Storm’s mother and father had died, they depended on her more and more as the woman of the house. Sure they had their share of women, even bringing some home and going as far as sharing amongst themselves, but no one could ever take the place of dear, sweet Martha. She would be sorely missed in the house for the next two weeks.

* * * *

At the cabin in the woods, Philip had fallen asleep in front of the warm fire, his cock finally deflating enough to let his body rest. He had been in an emotional and physical turmoil for three days now, anticipating the demise of the woman who occupied his bed. A noise brought him fully awake, hoping his captive was awake, but he realized he had dropped the empty beer bottle onto the braided rug beneath his feet. Standing, he quietly made his way over to the old brass bed situated in the center of the room.

The woman in the black tank top with the spaghetti straps and the black jogging shorts lay in the same position. Worry settled over him as she hadn’t regained consciousness yet. Perhaps he had injected too much of the sedative into her. But that was the only way he could have transported her safely on their journey and kept curious eyes off of them.

Eyeing the colorful tattoo that peeked out of the armhole of the tank starting at the side of her right breast and snaking down her side to disappear beneath the tank again, he was curious to see what the design actually was and where it ended. He had never imagined this petite woman who pretended she was so quiet and demure would have a tattoo, let alone have one that was actually on her tit. He felt his dick stir in his pants again and knew he had to move away from her or he would take her while she was still asleep and that wasn’t what he wanted to do. He wanted to fuck her savagely for what she had done to him, to show her that he wasn’t a man to mess with, but he needed her awake to make his point.

Adjusting his burgeoning cock in his jeans, Philip made his way to the door and stepped out into the cold night air. Closing the door behind him, he stood, breathed in the clean air, and sat in the pine Adirondack chair next to the door on the small porch, absorbing the quietness that surrounded him. It was so different than the city noises he was used to, along with the smog that was beginning to pollute the air where he lived. He missed the hustle and bustle of the city, but he would be returning soon enough, after he completed this personal mission.

Philip had been enjoying his break on the porch for about fifteen minutes when he heard the rattle of metal on metal. Launching himself from the pine chair, he rushed into the cabin, letting the door slam open. Adrenaline pumping through his body and with a rush of cold air, he entered the cabin smiling. “I hear you are finally awake, my dear.” The struggles within the metal police cuffs and the tossing of her head from side to side, along with the screaming behind the gag showed she was afraid, and well she should be. She had discovered he was a dirty cop working for the mob, and she had enough on him to put him away for life. He couldn’t let that happen so he was going to have to take care of her the only way he knew how, but first he was going to enjoy her delicious body.

He stood still, letting her anticipate his next move, letting the fear rise within her. With discipline, he kept his hands at his sides, his breathing steady, though he felt his cock throbbing against the zipper of his jeans. The cold air had kissed his captive’s body as her nipples hardened under the skimpy material that covered her breasts and goose bumps danced along all visible flesh, though he hoped the fear caused it more than the cold.

Philip watched as quiet anticipation finally got the best of her and she began to struggle against her metal prison, pulling hard on the cuffs on each one of her limbs, while her body thrashed about as much as it could against the bindings. She screamed through her gag. The cursing was muffled, though he could still make out the words she spat out.

“Now, now,” he chastised with a chuckle, letting his fingers brush lightly along the side of her breast that protruded out from the confines of the tank top. “Those are not words to be used by a lady.”

Trying to move her arm up to brush him away, she caused her bandaged bicep to hit his forearm and she cried out in pain, remembering he had shot her before he hit her. Again she cursed at him through the gag, which caused him to chuckle then grasp her breast and squeeze tightly, causing her to cry out again. Bending down so his mouth was next to her ear he whispered, “You can fuss all you want, Lisa! I intend to have what you have to offer under these clothes, the same way you offered yourself to your customers. You’ve shunned me enough while working for the boss, and now I intend to take what I want from you.”

She must have found what he said funny for she tried to suppress a giggle but wasn’t able to. Her body began to spasm as her laughter bubbled to the surface.

Philip stood straight staring down at his prisoner as if she had lost her mind. He pulled his hand from her body and ran a hand over his face in confusion. The longer the laughter continued he felt she was mocking him so he reached out and slapped her cheek.

“Stop it, bitch!” he shouted at her, causing her to laugh harder. His face became redder with each passing moment until his mental rage overtook his body and he lashed out with his fist and slammed it down onto her jaw.

The laughter stopped and her body went still immediately as she slipped away into unconsciousness again from the impact. Anger continued to build within the man, and lashing out, he struck the headboard once, twice, and then a third time as he tried to release the emotion that had control of his body and mind. Frustrated that he let the vixen get to him, he growled at her before stomping back to the chair in front of the fireplace and sat back down. Staring into the flickering flame that had diminished over time as the logs became smaller, he tried to control himself, breathing in and out deeply until he felt at ease at hurting her again. Eventually sleep overwhelmed him and his body relaxed, though his mind remained sharp.

Sunrise caught the Goodall brothers and their cousin Austin starting up the mountain path west of the ranch house to find some cattle that had wandered up that direction. GPS tags had been attached to the animals at birth so they knew how to track them without searching the entire twenty-five thousand acres for them. If their father was still alive, they would be working the old-fashioned way at the ranch, but after he passed, the boys brought it into the 21st century. Also, it would give them the opportunity to ride into mountains that had allured them day after day. Though exploring had evaded them due to their day-to-day chores.

They had risen before Martha had and actually had breakfast ready for her when she came in to tend to the task. This was her vacation and there was no sense in her working first thing in the morning on her first day off. After seeing her off with her friend Ginger, they saddled up their horses and set off so they could see the sunrise as they started up the trail. Sitting for a moment to watch the pinks, purples, and gold rise from the mountains across their valley gave them each a promise of a new day, a new adventure that awaited them as it did every morning.

A cell tower sat about five miles south on their property so they were able to get a signal on their smartphones for calls and to track the cattle through the GPS tags so all three of them were able to go after them. The other ranch hands remained around the barn and house to perform the chores that needed to be done while the three family members were gone for the day. They hoped to return before nightfall with the stray cattle as the tracker indicated they were about two and a half miles up the trail near one of the streams.