A Tough Girl From Montana Pt. 02

"Usually means IPA, although some alkies prefer Stout. Locals ask for Bozeman Brewing Hopzone IPA."

"I'll take a 12 pack. Throw in some diet soda and bubble water too."

Addie left her truck for me and I liked the way it roared up the hill to Hugh Murphy's never-will-be-finished house. Cora and Hugh came to the porch together and insisted on hugs. She said, "We are so pleased you and Addie will be neighbors."

Hugh grabbed two of the cold IPA's and led me around to the sunny side of the house, which had a long sheltering porch roof. He pointed to a newish rocker, and took the ancient one next to it. I had a drag on the bottle and smiled to myself. The new guy from the east needed a Montana silence before anything was discussed.

Finally, he said, "There's a woman who teaches at the university. Followed her dad on the Architecture faculty. Stays on the adjunct side so she can do commissions. Has houses all over the state and down into Wyoming. You and Addie should talk to her even if she doesn't do your house. She's likely expensive."

After a long pause, he added. "Emmaline Cartright. Nice pioneer name. Her great grandfather worked on the railroad to make enough money to marry and settle nearby. Went into cattle and did well. Sent all his kids through college."

"You going to get us an appointment?"

"Suppose I could do that. Our families know each other through church. Her grandfather built the current building."

"If this works, we are going to need other help. I could become your beer supplier."

Cora had her husband's untidy locks, applying a kiss. "This is exciting!"

"Addie's threatening me about a house to have her baby in. Have to get busy."

Cora gave me a look and asked, "Is she...?"

"No. Says we have to do this proper. A church wedding, a quick honeymoon some place she won't tell me about, then a house before snow flies. She did mention that perhaps babies could wait until after ski season. She stopped taking her pills, but now she is back on them."

Cora laughed and giggled. "Oh my. Just wait until she gets out her calendar and decides how pregnant she can be and still ski!"

Hugh laughed, "This poor guy is supposed to breed on demand? Sounds like a stable with a stallion in it!"

I spoke up. "I'll tell you a secret, which you probably already suspect. Addie likes sex. Makes wild threats. With those muscles, can take me down anytime."

Cora was laughing again. "Poor suffering Michael!"

"Seduced me in my own hot tub. Dragged me out here..."

"But you are going to build her a house anyway."

"I sure am. That woman is really special. I don't know how I lucked out."

* * * *

Addie came tearing into the house about four on Saturday. "The traffic was bad! Too many tourists! Are you primed for some loving?"

"Let's have a drink. I want your brain, not your body right now."

"Fix me something, I am going to the shower."

A few minutes later, she came out of the bathroom in only a towel, looking for me. She saw two drinks on the bedside table, but no Michael. I think she was beginning to suspect a tease.

She was right, but I was just trying to establish that she was not the only tease in the household. I jumped out of the closet, tossing her high in the air, towel flying far away.

She landed on the bed with a screech, and discovered I was as bare as she was. "Bad! Very bad. Just forget about sex!"

That was the one thing that was not going to happen. We rolled together, cursing the other, and applying kisses, pinches, and naughty fingers. I took the bottom and she laughed, eyes sparkling, from high above. Both hands were gripping my stiff cock.

Leaning down, "You are inviting torture. I can't decide whether you were serious about talk before sex, or whether I should just slide down this."

I reached for a drink and smiled up at her. "Let's do both. There's no hurry, is there?"

She did take her time, deciding the cock needed a visit to her lips and beyond before it found its way inside another opening.

She slurped loudly and I called her a shameless tramp.

In moments, my backpressure was going to produce a gusher. Taking charge, I flipped her to her back and plunged home.

Still laughing, she wailed, "Don't show a girl any mercy, do you?"

A week of abstinence had her coming in a few more strokes. "Ohhh Michael. I'm coming. Ahhh."

I pounded her though another orgasm and erupted myself. My god, what a good fuck.

Holding tight, we kissed and went into that blissful post coital state of nothingness.

In a bit, she was whispering in my ear, "I'm yours, Michael. What a nice way to welcome me home."

In the shower, she punched my shoulder. "Are we always going to be teasing each other? What about fights?"

I refreshed the drinks and sat her on a stool in the kitchen to work on her hair. "No fights and less teasing. Am I taking you out for dinner? There is some nice steak in the fridge, and I fixed the wine supply."

"Gee, grilled rare steak with Michael? I could do home fries. Is there a veggie?"

"The green beans were very nice in the market. And fresh strawberries."

She stood and turned for a tight hug. "If this is what being married to you is like, sign me up for a very long term lease!"

"If we had a teenager, she would be telling us to stop being icky."

"I love icky! Why does hanging out with an older man make me feel younger?"

* * *

The single window in the tiny apartment bedroom faced east, which is why the sun was shining in my eyes. I was alone, but heard noises from the kitchen. A body in a long football jersey appeared, bearing a steaming mug of coffee. I sat up, feeling groggy, and made a noise somewhere between a moan and a groan. Was it the drinks or the sex? Maybe both.

"I have to do something about these women hitting on me all the time..."

The punch was swift and right in the tender part of my upper arm. "No whining! We have lots to do today. Do you suppose that woman architect would see us on a weekend?"

I sipped coffee and put the mug down. "Relax for a minute and tell me what is on the calendar for the next couple of weeks. I do have to write and send a newsletter."

Lying across the bed with her head on my belly, she said, "I'm glad we are both halfway organized. I had a sloppy roommate in college and she drove me nuts!"

"I'm adding 'halfway organized' to my list of your charms. Which comes first, getting married or building the house?"

"You already know the answer to that. I want to get married in the meadow in front of the house, and I want to conceive our child in a bed in that house!"

"That does give us some flexibility. When we have strings up for the foundation outline, we can call that a house in principle. And when the framing is in place, I can put a bed in the middle of the sawdust for my other duty."

Addie flopped on my chest with a hot kiss. "I can see lots of obstacles ahead. There will be no impregnation until there is a roof on my wedding present!"

We rolled around and did get moving. Since Addie distantly knew the architect, she made the phone call. Emmaline Cartright was interested in a commission to do a house on nineteen acres of mountain meadow with its own stream and a view. Interested enough to suggest a visit to the site that very afternoon. Addie hung up, gave a giant whoop and knocked me to the carpet.

"Michael! I can't believe it. Probably the best architect in Montana might do our house!"

"What if she says no to all our ideas? Tells us she has always wanted to do a mound house with a dirt roof?"

After many kisses, she said, "It won't be that way, I am sure of it."

Emma drove up just at 1 o'clock, and I drove the three of us in Addie's truck. She was direct, warm and down to earth. "There are days, you know, when being an architect is an exercise in frustration. The clients you started out respecting turn out to have an impossible wish list. You can't decide whether to cancel the engagement agreement, or just suffer through. I don't why I am sounding off in front of such a nice couple. You are already throwing off good vibes. Did you say Addie put all her savings into an option on the property, not even knowing if her new boyfriend was going to show up?"

Emma giggled, but the two of us shared a nervous moment. I said, "Emma, the boyfriend not only showed up, he has a ring on her finger."

"Oh my, I had better shut up." We were turning from the highway to the dirt road leading to Hugh's place. I stopped to let Addie describe the property from this distance.

"The lot is nineteen acres. A buildable parcel, the county says. The creek is fifty yards in front of that grove of trees. The trees are close to the uphill property line, so there is a big front yard if you want to call it that."

Emma was clicking off a number of pictures and looking impressed by the site. "I don't suppose your piggy bank has enough to buy another thousand acres to save the view?"

Addie sighed, "Oh Emma, don't give us ideas!"

The next hour was spent walking the property, taking lots of notes and pictures. Emma was keeping her thoughts to herself for now, but she had many questions for us. No, we are not interested in a multi-story timber framed monstrosity. No, we didn't need a five thousand square foot mansion. Yes, we wanted an open airy feel. Addie said, "It would be nice if it had heated tile floors to keep tiny baby feet from freezing." I said, "We are thinking of a separate structure, perhaps a barn with space for a few horses, and also a workshop."

Finally, she looked up from her notes and said, "We can go back. I have some preliminary ideas, but need a few days for them to jell and then do sketches for our first client conference. I charge a fixed fee of five hundred dollars to take us to that meeting. If we proceed, there is a standard AIA agreement we will execute. That's when we talk budget and other nasty details."

Addie and I were too impressed to say anything except "Yes, of course. That is wonderful." On the short trip home, she kept us amused with stories of disagreeable clients, adding, "I don't know why I am scaring you with these stories. This has been an excellent afternoon, and I am looking forward to working with you."

As soon as we were in the house, Addie was on the phone to Arthur, "Dad, can you come to dinner? Michael is barbequing. We just finished an afternoon at the property with Emma Cartright. She is going to do a set of preliminary sketches of a possible house for us. We have lots to share with you, especially since it was your idea to find a good architect."

My woman was so excited, she rushed over and knocked me to the floor for the second time today. "Michael, this is incredible. I'm so excited I'm probably going to pee my pants!"

"What if I lie in the tub and you excitedly pee on me?"

She clutched me, "More kinky ideas! Would you really let me do that?"

"I just love fresh girl piss!"

My chest was pounded. "Terrible! How did you guess that when I was a little girl, I ran around the backyard with my pants off, peeing on all the flowers? My mom laughed and then spanked me! Said good little girls did not pee outdoors."

My hands worked up and down her back. "That can't be true. I'll bet you pee outdoors all the time."

Her voice dropped, "Yes, but up to now there hasn't been a naked guy under me!"

I stood us up. "There are dinner chores. But one of these days, you are going to pee on me. File that away."

Arthur arrived at five and we relaxed on the patio with beers. "You kids sure move things right along. I didn't even know about this lot until a week ago."

"Dad, she is so nice. Told us stories about bad clients and said she was sure we weren't like that!"

I said, "We had an idea you might be interested in helping with design of a barn and workshop building. Could have a studio apartment if you are interested."

His head snapped around to glare at Addie, "Daughter, are you messing with me?"

"Yes, Dad we are. Mom is gone and so is your job. You could be a world of help with the project. Michael and I have day jobs to attend to, so your free time could be well used looking out for the owner's interests when we are not able to be around."

"And, by way of a bribe, I get to design my own little nest?" His glare had softened to a thin smile.

"That's not fair, but..." Addie sat on his knees and hugged. He hugged back. I exited to put the meat on the grill.

Dinner was laid back. The three of us speculated on what Emma would come up with. Addie said, "Not a ranch style."

Arthur said, "Not a fancy Frank Lloyd Wright Prairie house."

I said, "Emma was very engaged in our lifestyle comments. We won't get a clone of anything. She will fashion something unique to Montana and to Addie and me."

My almost bride jumped into my lap, "Oh Michael, I hope so!"

* * *

The next days were busy. My first newsletter from Montana was almost ready. The precious mailing list appeared to have survived its ride west in the laptop and backed up on a flash drive. The professional quality printer that was used for labels started right up. Addie introduced me to the Postmaster, who was happy to have a new business customer with his own prepaid postage account.

The title company called for multiple visits. Each time, we signed our lives away in a new way. Since we weren't married yet, there was interminable paperwork to deal with two buyers acting jointly. About the twentieth time we signed our life away, she nudged me and said, "Ready to break the engagement?"

The title company woman across the table looked alarmed until she saw Addie's smile.

I nudged her back, "This can't possibly work..."

Ten days later, as promised, Emma called for an appointment to discuss her thoughts on our new home. "It's best if you come to me. There are large drawings on my drafting table."

We were holding hands, wound up tight as a drum, as we walked to her front door. The smile was broad. "I'll bet you are dying with anticipation. Please sit down. We need to talk before you look at my schematics. Will you have some wine?"

We nodded, limply.

In several minutes, she was back with glasses and plunged right in. "There is thousands of years of history in creating shelter for humans. Not many new ideas are left that haven't been explored. So the job of someone like me is to visualize a new way of combining well used elements into a whole that suits the owners."

She paused to let that sink in and take a sip of wine. "One of the problems in combining elements is that too often you end up with a mishmash that amounts to nothing!"

Addie tried to crack a joke. "Oh no, we are getting a mishmash house!"

"Well, you did say you liked oatmeal."

Addie's head was in her hands, shoulders shaking. I poked her ribs.

"Come along and see what I have drawn. You have been nice about tolerating my suspense story."

She was an artist as well as an architect. The grove of trees on the property was beautifully drawn. Nestled in front, with pasture running towards the viewer, was a multilevel house. About two thirds of it was single story, with strong horizontal lines expressed in the roof treatment and overhanging soffits. To the left rear was a rectilinear tower, perhaps thirty feet tall. Tying the two elements together was a second story with a series of smallish windows in a line, picking up the horizontal motif from the first story. It was a brilliant conception of a Montana house, responding to both the rolling prairies and to the steep mountains.

We were so impressed we had nothing to say for minutes. Emma broke in and said, "The medieval Italians needed towers in their hill towns to keep an eye on nasty neighbors. This is your small scale Italian villa. We can discuss exterior treatments, but I've been thinking about stucco. Hand finished stucco in a Mission style. We are a long way from California and New Mexico, but attractive wood siding has become very expensive and our sun rots it and bleaches it in a short time."

Addie was clinging to me under my comforting arm. "Michael, it is so US!"

I breathed down her neck, "Don't get carried away, Ski bum!"

I asked, "Does the tower have a lift in it?"

"It could, if you have the money. If not, there are nice prebuilt circular stairs available."

Addie said, "We could have real bells at the top, to call in the animals."

Tangling my fingers in Addie's locks, I asked, "How much is this mansion likely to set us back?"

"Depends a lot on the interior amenities. Bare bones around $500,000. Perhaps twice that if you get carried away." Emma smiled carefully, having no idea of our financial situation.

Addie pushed me back to the chairs we were in and sat on me. "Michael, we MUST build it. We can't insult Emma!" She buried her head in my chest and then peeked up at my face looking hopeful.

"Well, if we start now making the adobe bricks..." My hand crept under her shirt for a tickle, but my mind was wondering if we shouldn't erect a prefab metal building to serve as temporary shelter, barn, building materials storage, and so on.

"Emma, we are not in a position to just contract this out. It might take us a year or two, depending on conditions and our finances. What if you go into detailed design on the house, but also help us find the right place for the all purpose barn and staging site we mentioned?"

Her eyes crinkled, "Addie, I do believe you have found a Montana style guy to be your husband. You'd be surprised at the number of requests I get to do the barn first!"

Addie pouted, "Oh, I am terribly disappointed. What about the walkin closet for my frocks? First thing you know, the horses will have heated stalls and I will be sleeping on straw under their hooves!"

She laughed and giggled and twisted under my tickling hands. I sighed happily. My bride to be was happy, the architect was happy, and Arthur would be amazed.

"Emma, I need to take this goofy girl away. We will figure out what size barn we need while you do the site work. Please give us a list of decisions and cash requirements as soon as you can."

She was still shaking as we drove back to the apartment. "Michael, that is such a nice house. Not at all like the cookie cutter timber framed ranchettes."

"If we build it, there will be a lot of critics. The timber frame types will complain someone let the wetbacks in town."

"Oooh, that is so nasty!"

"There are nasty people in the world, if you haven't noticed."

She lowered the seat and closed her eyes. "I am not thinking bad thoughts. I have a guy, I have a lot, I have a house design..."

* * *

Summer roared by. The first Montana newsletter was a big hit. New subscriptions poured in. Addie was lucky and not called out for a big fire with her EMT crew. Emma was juggling clients who wanted everything at once while it was still summer, but had us for wine every two weeks or so. The county had accepted the initial submission of documents. There was a tricky business about keeping the septic field far enough away from the stream.

Addie and her Dad and I were invited to Hugh and Cora's Fourth of July party. Addie had insisted on bringing our camping gear so we could sleep on the house site. It was a good thing, because everyone was pretty juiced by the time we watched distant fireworks go off in town.

In our sleeping bags under a starry sky, I teased my bride, "Is this the night, honey?" She gave me her back, giggling. "Keep away from me, beast. You have no privileges until there is a house over my head!"

I was smashed and he was limp. Sharing body warmth, I slipped away feeling very fortunate.

There was a chill downhill breeze in the morning. Addie was snuggled tight, but said, "If you get the camp stove going, I will do the coffee." I sat up to enjoy the stupendous view. "What about the next thousand acres?"