Farmer Takes a Wife Read online

  He asked, “So– you planning to marry that one?”

  Farmer smiled some more. “Yep, next month. I am going to drive up to Idaho Falls to meet her father, formally ask him for her hand, and then have a small ceremony at her family’s church in Ammon.”

  “Hmmph,” Jack said.

  Those were the only words he had for Farmer. An odd feeling coursed through him as he went back to work on the foundation for the farm house. The subject of Farmer’s lady opened a door between the men. Stories were shared with Jack on how she’d helped him through rough patches in his life even though she lived clear across country. She seemed like a bright and cheerful sort of woman, not Jack’s type at all, but the stories were engaging. Jack found himself wanting to meet this Cyndi.

  Jack brought in bright cheerful paints to jazz up the white walls in the house and added special touches to the farm house. A house that Cyndi would live in with Farmer. The more he learned about the woman, he found himself adding special touches to the farmhouse that he thought she would like. His disposition changed throughout the next two weeks. The closer it came for Farmer to go and fetch his bride to be, the crankier Jack became. The last picture she sent to Carson was a full length one of her holding a cup of coffee. The lady was round and just right in all the perfect places. Secretly, he watched how Farmer used his hands. Hands made for farming. He wouldn’t know what to do with a woman like Cyndi.

  By the time Jack returned to the bunkhouse each evening for dinner, he was in a foul mood. Jamar picked up on it instantly. Over the past eight months, he had learned to read Jack’s moods even though the man didn’t talk much. He often joked with Daniel that his relationship with Jack was like dating a moody chick without sex. When Jack was like this, Jamar knew that sex was what he normally needed.

  “Jack, you want to head in Laramie on Friday for some R & R?” Jamar asked his friend.

  “Yeah, maybe. We’ll see,” he said.

  Sex wasn’t on his mind even though he would be more than happy to spend the night between the warm thighs of a hot woman, versus dinner with a volatile Colombian chef and a skinny man building a town. His mind went back to Cyndi. What would it be like to come home in the evenings to a woman like that?

  The grumpiness he understood. The emotion which seldom visited him had returned. Jack Kinson was jealous. A woman like Cyndi never picked a man like him. He had never been a good enough man to earn himself a quality, good-hearted woman like Cyndi. I am my brother’s keeper. He dismissed the thoughts of her and begin to change the subject when Farmer brought her up while they worked. It wasn’t a smart thing to do- no man should brag about the bags of money in his basement he was always told this by his father.

  “Son, if you keep telling people how good you got it, they will either want to take it away or try it for themselves,” Hobbs Kinson told him. He wanted to share these wise words with Farmer, but held his tongue. Based on the life story the man had shared with them, he deserved all the happiness he could get. Besides, he had other things to worry about. Food was one of them. He wanted a beef hamburger, not an elk, venison or a bison burger. He was going to go grocery shopping to buy food that he wanted to eat.

  The universe aligned at the formation of his thoughts. On a cool crisp day in November, the supply truck of food didn’t show up. The driver had been delayed by three days and the cupboards were almost bare.

  “Señor, I cannot be expected to create fantastical meals when there is no food to prepare for you to dine. I have only six eggs left in the whole kitchen,” Chef said with anger in his voice.

  “Jack, I may need you to make a run for us if you can. We need some food to tide us over until the truck arrives,” Jamar told him.

  “Okay,” Jack said softly. He needed a distraction and to get away. He gathered his things, preparing to leave as Farmer came around the corner on two wheels.

  “Help!” he shouted to his new brothers.

  Jamar, Chef, and Jack all bolted to their feet.

  “What’s wrong?” Jamar asked.

  “It’s Cyndi. Something is wrong and she’s not telling me. I was going to pick her up next week, but she wants me to come now. There’s panic in her voice, guys. I am worried. I’ve never heard her sound like that, but I have to get to Cheyenne today to get this tractor or the guy is going to sell it to someone else,” Farmer said frantically. “I need somebody to either go get the tractor so I can go get Cyndi or someone to go get my Cyndi while I get the tractor.”

  “I’m flying out today to get supplies. I will go get her,” Jack volunteered. He’d said it so fast, he looked around the room to be certain no one had spoken for him.

  Farmer grabbed his hand pumping it furiously. “Thank you, Jack. You are a life saver.”

  No truer words were ever spoken as the men watched the blue and white Cessna taxi down the makeshift runway and up into the sky. It was a four hour-long flight from Laramie to Idaho Falls on a commercial plane; a bit less from Serenity. The drive time from Serenity to Idaho Falls was almost 8 hours. Farmer calculated the time it would take for him to drive the two hours to Cheyenne, buy the tractor, attachments and groceries for the house then come back. It would take less time for Jack to pick up supplies and get to Idaho Falls and back.

  Jamar watched him. “You will need to work something out with Darlene for the night for her lodging. No single women can stay in Serenity even if you are planning to wed her tomorrow.” Jamar told him.

  “I will run across the way to speak with Darlene before I leave,” he said to Jamar. “If they get back before I do, will you have Chef prepare her something to eat and take it over to the store for her while she waits for me?”

  “Sure,” Jamar told him.

  “You guys are a hell of a lot better than my actual family ever was me,” Carson said to him.

  “We take the brother’s keeper oath seriously, Farmer,” Jamar said to him. The trouble was, over the next few days, the oath was going to be tested in Jack. An issue which neither man had ever considered was the telling of Farmer’s Cyndi tales. Jack felt as if he knew her as well, if not better than Carson Royal ever could.

  I am my brother’s keeper.

  I am my brother’s keeper.

  He repeated the mantra to himself several times in hopes that it would hold off the emotions which were coming up inside of his guts like bad tacos from a roadside stand in Juarez. He knew the feeling. He understood the emotions. It would be a cold day in Jamaica before he would ever admit that through a month of Carson’s stories, he too had fallen for a woman he’d never seen. The next few days would test him in ways which would either make him a better man or prove to all around him, that Jack Kinson was truly a bastard. He focused on the controls of his plane as he crossed in to Idaho and made his way to the market outpost where her liked to shop, then on into Idaho Falls.

  The Cessna made it to Idaho Falls to pick up its passenger, but he did not stop for fuel. The wind shears had slowed him down considerably, so the fuel would have to wait until he’d picked up Farmer’s bride to be. He’d made it there by 4 pm. At six thirty that evening a solemn call came in to Jamar that the plane had disappeared off the radar screen. Jack’s plane had crashed somewhere over the Teton Mountain Range and snow was set to fall that night.

  No one slept that night as prayers went up for their brother Jack and the little lady he went to pick up.

  The adage of never shopping while you are hungry came to Jack well after he loaded the plane. Jamar’s shopping list left a great deal to be desired and he was of the same mindset as Tallulah. He wanted a beef burger with cheddar cheese, a Kaiser bun, and some good old fashioned French fries smothered in ketchup. An unnatural hankering for a thick slice of carrot cake was pretty high up his list as well. If Chef didn’t know how to make the delicious sweet treat, today he was going to learn. A sense of vindication coursed through him as he loaded the can of instant coffee, two large mugs and two large bags of white granulated sugar. The poo-poo chi-chi coffee
that Jamar ordered was fine for special occasions; however, there was nothing like a hot black cup of instant coffee full of caffeine to get you through a tough day. He grabbed several large bottles of water for his private stash, then put them back and opted instead for a case of 16 ounce bottles.

  Several thoughts sat on his shoulder as he made his way to the landing strip in Idaho Falls for smaller aircraft. He scoured over a mental checklist as he remembered to pick up the axe Jamar wanted, the two knives for Chef, a new skillet, and a case of actual soap for himself. The soap that Tallulah and Holden sold made the underside of his balls itch. No man should walk around with itchy balls, he thought quietly to himself. His first thought was the weight limit the plane could hold. The second thought was that he was going to be alone with Cyndi. It was only going to be for a few hours. I’m a grown damned man. I can be alone with a woman for a few hours.

  All those honorable thoughts left his head when he walked through the doors of the passenger waiting area for the air strip. There she was. All of her. Every glorious, voluptuous curve of her.

  Cyndi.

  Farmer’s Cyndi.

  That stupid picture didn’t do the woman justice.

  I am my brother’s keeper, he repeated inside of his head several times as he swallowed hard. The look of relief on her face when she saw him kicked in his protection mode. He wanted to save her. He wanted to save her from a life of boredom with Farmer. A woman like that should spend every night being ravaged, taken on private getaways, and covered in jewels. She didn’t deserve a life of evenings by the fire, peeling beets and discussing weather patterns for harvesting vegetables. Something was definitely wrong, not only with her, but also with him. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman was genuinely this happy to see him. Then anger crept up on him because she wasn’t happy to see him per se, but happy he was going to take her to Farmer.

  “Jack? I am so pleased to meet you,” she said to him, the smile warming him from head to his itchy balls. “I am Cynthia Kleene, but you can call me Cyndi.”

  Jack’s eyes roamed over her curvaceous body admiring everything about the black woman. In all his days, he had never seen any woman so stimulating. What turned him on more than anything was that she didn’t know how attractive she was. She carried her beauty as if it was a bad haircut that would grow out in a few weeks. Cyndi was eyeing him while he looked around her at the two boxes, the giant suitcase and an oversized coat.

  I am my brother’s keeper.

  “How much do you weigh?” Jack asked with a scowl on his face.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I asked how much do you weigh. I have a load in the plane. If you are over 200 pounds, we may have to leave those boxes or run the risk of hitting an updraft over the Tetons and going down like a hooker in Hong Kong,” Jack said flatly.

  Cyndi’s mouth was wide open as she stared at him in disbelief. A little old lady who had been waiting for her grandson to arrive walked over to Jack and slapped his face with everything in her wrinkled wee feeble body.

  He massaged his jaw while he looked at Cyndi, waiting for an answer. Her bottom lip quivered while she tried to hold back the hurtfulness of his words. Always self-conscious about her generous curves, to be insulted by a total stranger was the last thing she wanted today. She was tired and hungry and had spent the night in a box of an airport by herself in fear for her safety.

  Hands on her hips, she asked with attitude, “You have a problem with big beautiful women, Jack?”

  “No, I have a problem with dying. I am not crashing because you wanted to bring curtains and a bedspread for your wedding bed,” he said with no emotion in his voice. “Go through the boxes and bring only what you need.”

  “Fine,” she said with some huff in her voice. “Just so you know, Farmer spoke highly of you, said you were a man he trusted not only with his life but with his wife.” She bent over, opening the first box and removing the curtains she had packed to go in her new master bedroom. Jack’s eyes tried to shift to something else, but all he could see was himself, standing behind her, gripping onto those luscious hips as he jammed...

  “Stop staring at my ass,” she said over her shoulder.

  She pulled the quilt out of the box. The quilt she was taking because her grandmother had made it. The hand stitched bedding was the one thing her father had given her when he sent her to live permanently in Idaho Falls to keep her safe from the predators in Ammon. The quilt had become like a security blanket.

  “I also want you to know that I think you are not a very nice man and I don’t like you,” she told him. The little old lady who had come to her defense watched the whole scene unfold.

  Cyndi asked the little woman, “Ma’am, if you would be so kind, will see that these items make it to a shelter or are given to a needy family?” Her arms were full as she dropped the curtains she was lugging.

  Jack gritted his teeth. “Shit!” he said as he grabbed the curtains, her suitcase, and the quilt. “Let’s go!”

  The actual boxes he left in the waiting area as he loaded in her very large, heavy suitcase. The oversized coat he told her to remove, shoving it into the plane with the rest of the cargo. He layered the curtains behind the seats before draping the quilt over her legs and securing the passenger door. Jack covered her legs because the thought of sliding between the large thighs as he claimed her body on a cold night tugged at his groin. He gave her a quick glance as he started the plane. Her full, perfectly formed lips, the almond shaped eyes, the cute as a button upturned nose, and two of the most amazing breasts he’d ever seen were a good reason to have a little talk with Jesus. Common sense had spoken to him earlier, warning him not to walk behind her out of fear that he would touch Farmer’s woman. For some odd reason, he wanted to take the long braid out of her hair so his fingers could run through what looked like a thick mass of wavy curls. He finished his prayer and closed his pilot’s door while keeping his eyes on the blacktop drive ahead of him. He started the plane.

  “Here we go,” he said as they taxied down the runway.

  Cyndi watched him out of the corner of her eye. Jack Kinson was all kinds of sexy. He had muscles and attitude and was covered in alpha male. She noticed his strong thighs when he lifted her suitcase. Calloused fingers grazed her legs when he tucked the quilt around her thighs. She was uncertain if she was warm from the blanket, or hot because of him.

  “Quit staring at me like you want to eat me lady,” he said.

  “No, not even close. I have never seen an asshole fly a plane, so this is amusing to me,” she said to him waiting for a response.

  Jack pulled down the navigator shades, showing her deep brown eyes. Sparks flew in the cabin between them. Shocked at the attraction, Cyndi turned her face towards the window, looking outside, away from her rescuer and pilot. He too was taken off guard.

  “Farmer says you are a math teacher,” he said, trying to start a conversation.

  “Math and English,” she responded. “I am hoping with the downtime that I can start a novel I have been wanting to write.”

  “What kind of novel,” he sincerely wanted to know. Farmer had not mentioned this part to him.

  “Honestly, I want to write the great American novel about a woman coming into her own and finding her way,” she said with pride.

  “Hmph,” Jack grunted.

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “I dunno. I was always told that you should write what you know,” he said.

  Cyndi, was taken aback at his second unwanted, unwarranted, and unneeded assessment of her took grave offense at his words.

  “Well, I was shocked to see that you have opposable thumbs, but you don’t see me judging you,” she said snapping at him.

  He found himself smiling. “That was good,” he told her.

  “Yeah, and you are still an asshole,” she said. Giving it more thought, she added. “How do you know what I am able to write or what I know?”

  “Don’t get your pantie
s twisted. I was just thinking that a woman coming into her own wouldn’t be marrying some man she met on the internet to move out to a farm in the middle of nowhere. Those hands of yours hadn’t seen any hard labor other than making red marks on a badly calculated word problem. Farmer has to work that land and make it bear fruit. It is just the two of you. Back breaking work don’t seem to be in your wheelhouse,” he said gruffly.

  She reached over and socked him in the arm.

  “You don’t know what in the hell I have in my wheelhouse, hothouse, storehouse, my house, or any damned thing else. Stay in your lane Jack, or you just might get run over,” she said looking back out the small window.

  Before he could respond, a sudden updraft of wind came as the plane crossed into Wyoming. The turbulence of the air current lifted, then dropped the aircraft, unbalancing the plane, throwing it sideways. Jack pulled on the throttle, trying desperately to regain control of the Cessna. Two minutes was all it took to understand they were going to crash. For this, he was grateful that he hadn’t fueled up. At least, when they went down, it wouldn’t end in a fiery ball of death.

  “Cyndi, we’re too heavy for me to correct us in the air. I am going to go low to get under the air pockets to see if I can get us back on track. If not, we are going to crash,” he told her. He was trying to sound as if there was hope. He knew there wasn’t.

  “If that is some crack about my weight, if we live, I am going to kick your ass,” she told him.

  “Hold on to that anger, we may need it to get us through this,” he said, wrestling with the controls.

  “If we die, Jack, I’m going to haunt you in whatever Hell you end up,” she responded looking for something to grip.

  “I truly don’t want that, so I will do my best to make sure we live,” he told her. They were going to survive. Jack Kinson was going to make certain of that. He was uncertain at this particular moment, if they did survive the crash, he would be forced to endure Farmer’s wrath if he touched his woman.