Montana Rhapsody Pt. 01

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A New York novelist is determined to write a western romance.
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Part 1 of the 3 part series

Updated 10/27/2022
Created 06/05/2009
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CHAPTER 1

Hard-faced commissioning editor Ruby Street looked at one of the publishing company's premier writers of soft romances that were laced with mild naughtiness. She smiled bleakly, thinking the success of this attempt to wrench Paris McCoy out of her comfortable rut to hit the bookshelves with a sexy sizzler were about as good as finding a hundred bucks on the sidewalk in Wall Street.

Paris was currently their third-highest revenue producer in fiction and Ruby wanted to force the break-through to hit the top.

"You want me to stop dead, leave town and nine months later come to you with a best seller in time for a mid-November launch to catch the Christmas market? You say a novel that drips with sex and the hero has the edge over the heroine which is contrary to what I do?"

"Yes."

"You are aware that my brief times of experiencing torrid sex were way back at college?"

"Yes."

Paris tapped on her knee with a palm six times. "Okay but I'll do it on my terms."

"Er Paris, you know better than that. Our elite authors are still required to sell the story outline before we commit."

"Yes but you are asking me to take a risk so I'm asking you to take a risk."

Ruby frowned. "You could be toppled from your perch if this experiment implodes on us and I could lose my job."

"So? Be tough Ruby."

Ruby sighed and said, "Sorry but I can't take the risk."

"How much do you have in your budget for that useless exercise of attempting to promote new authors by sending them on promotional tours?"

Checking the spreadsheet on her computer Ruby said $135,000.

"Then give me $50,000 of that to live on for nine months while I produce a manuscript radically different from anything you've seen from me in the years you've been grooming me."

"Sizzling romance?"

"Very definitely," Paris smiled.

"What will be the theme?"

Paris said nothing about the novel would be revealed until the first chapters were submitted. Staring steadily she asked, "Are you still having a relationship with the executive editor?"

Unable to hide her blush Ruby nodded.

"Then call her now. Fill her in briefly and say the only risk to the company is my living allowance of $50,000 and that would come unnoticed from PR funding. Ask for authorization to take an unprecedented risk that you can assure her will be a winner."

"You expect it to be a winner?"

"Yes."

"Well you are not normally that definite about your project. Please leave the room while I make the call."

The door opened and Paris was called back in.

"As I speak $25,000 is being transferred into your personal account. Sorry but Thelma cannot be squeeze to approve another cent more. Perhaps that hard line could be reviewed when the first chapters are submitted."

Paris sighed and thanked Ruby. "Your timing is exquisite darling, I feel ready to be unleashed. A couple of months after I settle in I'll send you a report and brief story line. I'll begin sending finished draft chapters in the first couple of weeks of July and I'll occasional hire a professional photographer to gather some publicity shots."

Ruby said, "At least tell me where you will go to begin your research."

"I don't know yet."

"Oh Jesus."

* * *

A week later in late January Paris had reached the entrance to her cousin's horse ranch in Montana in her pre-owned Japanese long wheelbase diesel vehicle, the model the vehicle dealer recommended to penetrate isolated sub-alpine country in winter.

The notice at the entrance stated 'Harrop Ranch House 2 miles'. She thought it must be a big spread. Somehow she got there, twice having to gingerly back off and attempt a slightly different angle of attack and using the four long metal planks to negotiate extra deep drifts. Those two miles took her three and a half hours and she arrived exhausted.

Three guys in jeans, fleece-lined coats and Stetsons watched her vehicle grind towards them.

She alighted and the guy with blond curls running under his hat to his collar mistook her for a man because she was so bundled up and hadn't bothered with lipstick that day.

"How the fuck did you get through buddy? We've been marooned for three days and another big dump is on the way."

One of the guys said, "Good god, it's a dame."

Fatigued roared through Paris's body to her head. "I..." she began and fell face down into the snow, unconscious.

Paris awoke in a chair beside a roaring fire with some clown attempting to pour some sweet crap into her mouth. She guessed it was cocoa. She sucked some down and her throat and then her belly felt warm. She sipped slowly until she was finished.

"Good girl," said the guy patronizingly as if she'd achieved a feat of the century, but she let that pass. "Who are you?"

"You'll know. You'll have ratted through my things."

"We have touched nothing of yours except to run your vehicle into the barn and switch off the motor."

Paris focused and realized she was talking to the blond guy she'd seen just prior to collapsing. Without his outdoor clothes he looked almost cute. "Paris McCoy."

"What kind of name is that?"

"Probably more stylish than Bill Harrop."

"Bill was my father. He died almost six months ago. He froze to death after falling off his horse and breaking his leg. The overnight gale-driven snow got him."

"I'm sorry. I..."

"Wait on, the name McCoy? We have distant relations in New York. Is that a New York accent?"

"I prefer it called an educated accent. You are my third cousin and your father was my mother's second cousin."

The blond looked shaken. "Are you here to try to extract inheritance?"

"No you fool. I write novels and I'm here to research my next novel."

"In that case why didn't you write asking for an invitation?"

The 32-year old English Lit graduate yawned, stretched and removed her jacket, conscious he was eyeing what was moving under her thick sweater.

"I didn't want to risk a rejection. I did indicate I was educated."

"So you did but was dumb enough to try to come here when the roads are classified as impassable. What happened at the road block at the highway out of town?"

"The guy manning it was asleep in his vehicle so I just skirted it and kept on driving."

"They'll have a search party out looking for you."

Paris yawned again. "I though you said the roads were impassable?"

"Jesus you can be so aggravating."

"People usually call me sweet and mild. Why don't you ask Johnston over there to phone the Sheriff's Office and confirmed I've arrived.

"He's not Johnston, he's Alan and it's the Highway Patrol office.

"Alan ask Alice to phone local Highway Patrol and tell them what Paris had just said. Tell Alice to say she's a New Yorker so thought the roadblock was for local dummies. She's driving a big 4X4 that sounds like a bulldozer in low gear. She's a researcher for some big outfit in New York so he better think twice about ticketing her. She's the type that will fight him all the way to the Supreme Court."

"Yes Hal."

Paris smiled prettily. "Oh, you do have a name. Hal Harrop. Very cute."

"Look if you're trying to..."

"Hal, I'm at my charming self. Any chance of a whisky?"

"What, whisky?"

"Yes no water. I'm still shivering a bit."

"Just who are you lady?"

"I told you, I..." Paris stopped when she caught the grin.

The last thing Paris remembered was finishing her third whisky on a very empty stomach.

She awoke, ravenous and in a very wide four-poster bed. It was dark, very dark, and outside the wind was howling. She thought she would go and find the kitchen... perhaps they dubbed it the chuck wagon? She had no idea of anything western apart from once attending a touring rodeo show when staying with her uncle in Chicago. She felt around on the bedside cabinet and hit the lamp switch.

Hal the conservative fool. He'd not attempted to undress her and have a free feel or whatever ghastly things males do to a comatose woman in their care.

Suddenly he was beside the bed, dressed appalling in only thermal long underwear. Ohmigod what a bulge.

He spoke, almost in gibberish. "Are you okay? You're in my bed. I'm on the sofa. Are you hungry? The bathroom is beyond the end of the bed."

Wow, information delivered with word economy. "Thanks Ha. Don't get cold. I like your Mickey Mouse suit. I'm starving. I'll come looking for you."

Hal had turned and was balanced on one foot hauling on his jeans when she walloped his butt as she walked by. The control freak said nothing, just grunted a tad. Obviously there was no Mrs Harrop junior or senior around. Everything pointed to the house being run in bachelor mode and he certainly had lost any finer touch of dealing with a female if he had ever possessed it. Well, before she began attempting to change anything she'd better secure her position. She found him in the kitchen.

The slimeball! Instead of cooking her something he'd obviously pulled a dark-skinned and a little plump lady, probably the cook, out of bed and she heating up the hot plate to cook steak and tomatoes and she had potato cakes already in a pan.

The black-eyed woman looked at Paris acutely and then grinned. "It's true. You are beautiful with a lovely figure."

"Who told you that?"

"The boss," she grinned through two missing teeth and pointing to Hal. "He's been raving about you."

"I'm sorry I wasn't at the table at the proper time for a meal er..."

"Her name's Jumping Crow."

"Er Jumping Crow."

Too late. As she said the unlikely name Paris realized she'd been suckered and smiled weakly as the cook and the boss carried on as if they'd just heard the punch line of Montana's best joke of the century competition.

"I have a Crow name but you call me Annie. Everyone calls me Annie. The boss's father called me Annie because it was easier to say than my name. I like Annie best."

"Hi Annie, please call me Paris. May I help?"

"This is MY kitchen," Annie said defensively but without losing her smile.

Annie made steak sandwiches. Two for Paris as it was her 2:00 am dinner and a snack for the boss. She then disappeared.

"Hal?"

"Yes," Hal answered cautiously.

"Will you recruit me as a trainee ranch hand?"

He grunted, "We don't hire over winter."

"I wish to be made an exception."

"Oh yeah?"

Paris told him everything... who she was, what she did and why she was there.

"I've decided to write a hot western and need to do the research, talk to people and work on a ranch to learn everything I can and to capture the feeling and color."

"There are only two colors. White during winter and the brown of drought," he said, wearily.

"They are major images but I'll find you color and minor and major battles for life within nature you may have never really noticed before."

"Are you figuring on casting me as the hero?"

"Possibly, depending how well you live up to the image of a slightly flawed hero."

Hal's bottom jaw shaped out a grin while his dark green eyes held Paris's fluttering gaze as steady as galactic rock. "And you the heroine?"

"Perhaps."

Then if it's a hot romance we'll have to..."

He stopped.

"Fuck?"

"That wasn't quite the word I was searching for but yes."

"In the book yes, several times; in the flesh it will depend on you. I have no objection. I am seeking real life experience. I need you to understand that. I've only been on farms twice in my life and that was field day study visits during my early years at school."

Hal wiped his mouth with a paper towel. "Wouldn't it have been easier to set this great novel in a hairdresser's or upbeat bar, using places and activities you are more familiar with?"

"It would have been infinitely easier. But without the grind of securing the setting, shaping characters and plot from go to whoa, would my writing have similar passion to what I expect to extract from myself in this virgin adventure? I think not. I was riding down the elevator after managing to swing this assignment when I had a vision that the theme must be a modern western. My lips opened and involuntarily I said, "Montana."

Paris caught Hal's slightly uncomfortable look and was astonished. "My God, you believe I got the call don't you?"

"It's difficult to reject," he said evasively. "We best go to bed."

"Oooh, is this an invitation?"

"Look lady..."

"Paris."

"Look Paris, if you... oh come on, it is the best bed in the house by far. I'm not going to touch you though, and you keep on your side; is that a deal?"

He received an almost imperceptible nod.

"Was that a nod?"

"Yes," she said meekly.

Hal followed Paris, switching out the lights.

"Change while I clean my teeth," he grumped.

"My nightwear is in my vehicle. I'll sleep in my underwear"

After he emerged from the bathroom she went in.

She came out and with one hand on her hip, which she pushed out and the other hand reaching high up the door jam to emphasize her bust, she called, "Hal?"

He poked his head from partway under the blankets to look at her.

She heard him mutter, "Jesus."

"What is the penalty when I'm in bed if I renege on my deal with you?"

"Death!" he snapped. "Put out of light."

She felt him still shaking in laughter when she got into bed.

A little later, at least it seemed only a little later to Paris, she felt Hal stir and he left the bed. She assumed they hadn't touched during the night. After he left the bathroom she washed her face, dressed and greeted Hal and Annie in the kitchen.

"My bags have not been brought in yet." she smiled, not wanting to push too hard.

"No, and they'll be staying where they are," Hal said gravely. "The snowfall was much lighter than expected last night and the temperature is up a bit. I think we can get you safely on your way by 3:00 this afternoon. I've decided I don't wish to take part in your project, so your time here if finished."

"No you can't do this."

"Oh yes I can."

"B-but, I got to call to chose Montana."

Annie entered the exchange very quietly. "What call?"

"I was riding down an elevator in New York when I had a vision..."

"No!" Hal shouted, but was ignored.

"... about my new book and that it was to be a western. I've never written a western before. Then my lips opened and they said "Montana. I'll swear Annie that I did not say the word."

Annie asked did she hear voices; Paris shook her head.

"She has to stay boss."

"You keep out of this Annie; she goes."

Annie was shaking. "When you were sixteen years old your dying mother made you promise that when I put my foot down you would obey me."

"Yes, but jumping crows Annie I was a kid. That wasn't yesterday. It wasn't meant to continue once I turned, um, twenty-one."

"A promise is a promise; I was there and your mother did not state when that promise was to end. I'm putting my foot down. Paris stays. She has been visited."

"No, no. This is not going to happen. We have lunch at 2:00 and I'll follow Paris out to the highway. It ought to be graded by then." Looking steely eyed, Hal said, "That is my final word."

Annie moved alongside Paris. "Is it now?"

Hal swore, grabbed four pieces of buttered bread and a handful of bacon in a paper towel and left the house blowing steam.

"Thank you Annie. Will he change his mind?"

"No unless it's changed for him. Harrop men are stubborn."

"Then how can we make him change his mind?"

Annie threw up her hands and said she didn't know.

Paris heard the noise of two tractors and they came out of the barn. Hal and the ranch hand Alan on one tractor-trailer unit and the other two ranch hands on the other unit.

"They're off to feed out hay. There's more of that to do than normal this year. Most years it scarcely snows on this valley floor. This year has snowed heavier than usual but I've seen it worse a few times."

Paris put on her boots, jacket and button-down hat and went to her vehicle in the nearest barn and returned with her laptop. She worked through till she heard the tractors returning at 1:45. She'd drafted character outlines of the hero and heroine and made some notes about driving through the snow yesterday and what she saw or rather didn't see because of the heaped snow and the fog and then made some headings under which she'd later develop notes on plot.

Paris returned the coffee cups to the kitchen and saw lunch was set in the dinning room.

Hal came in, said a cheerful hi and disappeared to the bathroom, returning with his blond curls looking quite tidy. "Ah, lunch in the dinning room, a special occasion. What is it?

He was greeted with silence. Looking at Annie he flushed, and said, "Oh yes, a departing visitor."

It was a little feast. Annie had thawed a salmon from the freezer.

Annie stood by the table.

Hal said, "Oh, Paris, do you mind if Annie sits with us?"

"No, of course not, I assumed she would," Paris said, jumping up and pulling out Annie's chair for her at the far end of the table.

"Boss, is it okay if I say a short prayer?"

"Yes Annie, go right ahead."

"Annie spoke a few words that Paris guessed was her native tongue, presumably Crow.

"That sounded poetic," Hal smiled. You don't usually offer a prayer. What was that one for?"

"A farewell," Annie said impassively and remained so when Hal turned and said to Paris wasn't that lovely of Annie. She nodded but looking at Annie felt uneasy. She wasn't at all sure that farewell was for her."

They had a light rosé wine with the salmon. Paris noticed Annie had half a glass while Hal, appearing to be a little nervous, finished the bottle apart from her one glass.

After lunch Hal backed out Paris's Toyota.

She kissed Annie goodbye and loaded her laptop and the few things she'd taken into the house. It really was warmer so she unbuttoned her jacket and threw her hat on to the passenger seat.

She looked to the double doorway of the house and Annie was coming through it with a black shawl over her head and lugging three bags.

Hal came bounding over. "Where on earth are you going Annie?"

"I am leaving. When you have escorted Paris to the highway I want you to return me to my people."

"But why? This is your home now. You are needed here. The boys need you and respect you and I need you and respect you. As I said, this is your home."

"I cannot stay here with you about to dishonor your mother."

"Oh Christ. Paris, say something. Tell her it doesn't matter."

"I'm saying nothing Hal. This is High Noon. Annie is calling you Hal."

"That's crap, this is all crap. This is not supposed to happen. My mother said she thought you would stay with me always Annie."

Annie looked solemn. "Yes, I did hear her say that. I loved your mother Hal, she raised me as a young orphan and although I never said it to her I knew she was my spiritual mother. I cannot bear to think of her being shamed by you breaking the bond she made between you an me Hal. Either you back down and do what I have ruled over Paris or I go."

"Guys please. I'm not worth it," Paris bleated helplessly.

Hal cried, "Oh Christ Annie, I'm sorry.

Towering over Annie he hugged her with one arm, dabbing at his eyes with his gloved hand and saying, "I knew you had the final word Annie but as you know I can be such a stubborn cuss at times. I didn't wish to over-rule you."

Annie broke free.

"Right, coffee in the kitchen in ten minutes. Take my things to my bedroom Hal. I'll help Paris with her things. I'm putting her in with you because she needs to learn everything she can while she's here. She slept with you last night, didn't she?"

"Yes," Hal said sheepishly. "But we agreed not to touch and didn't."

"Well, that's accepted as correct behavior on the night of first dates. There's no hurry to break the deadlock as she thinks she'll be here till the first month of fall."

"Fall?" Hal queried.