I touched down in Missoula at six o’clock in the evening, Mountain Time. My heart fluttered in my chest, not knowing what to expect. A man name Joshua was supposed to pick me up and drive me up to Bear Creek Ranch. The early late summer tipped low on the horizon; the last golden fingers spread out over the mountains to the west.

It would be dark on my trek up into the mountains to the ranch with a strange cowboy I’d never met. My stomach contorted as if I was taking off on the plane again. I found my way to the luggage claim area, grabbed a baggage cart, and waited for my overstuffed U-haul boxes to pour down the chute.

Chill air blew in from outside, and I had to rummage through my carry on suitcase to find a sweater to pull over my bare shoulders. It had been eighty-five degrees when I left St. Louis, and I was wearing shorts, a short-sleeve printed T-shirt, and flip-flops.

After I found my sweater and pulled it over my shoulders, I stared down at my pale toes and pale pink nail polish. What would this cowboy think of me? I felt a tap on my shoulder and snapped my head around. Nerves pricked all over my body.

“Ain’t you a jumpy one,” said the tall fifty something cowboy with a graying mustache. He wore a straw cowboy hat, faded denim jeans and a matching jacket. A massive belt buckle gleamed from his waist.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Sorry, ma’am. Didn’t mean to frighten you. I’m Joshua Slew, from Bear Creek Ranch. You’re Miss Jane Elder, right? Came to pick you up.”

“Yes. How did you know?”

Joshua blushed and tipped his hat over his face, looking at the ground. Then he looked up at me, showing crooked teeth and a friendly smile. His eyes gleamed with mirth.

“Truth be told, Miss, Nate told me to look for a flatlander, college girl.”

“I see,” I said, already feeling annoyed and out of place.

“Don’t take it as an insult Miss Jane. I shouldn’t have said that. We sure are happy to have you to look after Miss Morgan. She’s quite the handful.”

I turned back to the luggage carousel and spotted my boxes coming toward me. I went to grab them from the conveyor belt and Joshua quickly helped me put them on my cart. He didn’t try to keep me from lifting them, and he didn’t make me do it myself.

As we walked out of the building, he offered to push the cart to the car. Outside the air was dry and cold. I told myself, I should have checked the weather report as I hugged my body to keep myself warm.

Joshua led me to a 1980’s orange Chevy pickup and hefted my heavy boxes into the back. He climbed in the driver’s seat and leaned over to unlock the passenger door by hand. I climbed inside. We pulled out of the parking lot, and Joshua turned on the heater.

We drove out onto Interstate 200 that led out of the small city of Missoula, headed northwest. Even under the dim light from the headlights, the velvety sky was covered in millions of bright stars. I leaned my head forward to gaze out the front window. I’d never seen stars so bright.

A huge moon loomed above that cast blue light all around. It sparkled down on the highway, illuminating the rural landscape. I smiled at the simple beauty and sat back in my seat.

“Gonna be a full moon tomorrow night.”

“Yes.”

“Surprised Nate brought you up the day before.”

“Why?”

Joshua took a sharp intake of breath and stared out at the road. “Miss Morgan sure does need a school teacher. Nobody’s got the time to drive her twenty miles to school each day.”

“What about the moon?”

He looked over at me for a second, his face grave. “Some wolves down from Canada have been coming around for livestock during the full moon for the last year or so. Can get pretty ugly.”

“Oh! Is it safe?”

“Well ma’am, that all depends.”

My heart sank. Was he telling me that Bear Creek Ranch was besieged by wolves? My face dropped, and I gasped. Joshua let out a whooping laugh and smacked the searing wheel.

“What?” I demanded.

“You should see the look on your face.”

I was getting tired of his teasing. If this was the way I would be treated under Nathanial Ellis’ employment, I might as well be on the next plane back to St. Louis.

“Well, is it safe or not!”

“If’n you’s a calf, it might not be so safe.”

I rolled my eyes and sank back into my seat. We turned off the interstate and pulled onto a narrow highway that led up into the thickly forested mountains. Joshua drove along wordlessly humming to the sound of music in his head. I sat in my seat trying to stay warm. I nodded off for a while and woke to find we were on a dirt road.

The dirt road went on for ages, crushed in on both sides by dense evergreen and aspen forest. Above, the blue moon cast the forest in a cool glow.

A sign rose above the road, held up by two smoothly hewn and polished logs. The dark-brown  words “Bear Creek Ranch” appeared to be burned directly into the pale yellow timber, and an image of a grizzly bear ran underneath them. I knew it was a grizzly by the hump on its back. I’d learned about them at the St. Louis Zoo.

“Are there grizzly bears around here?” I asked, hoping for an honest answer.

“Not always,” he said as we bumped over a cattle grate.

We drove the last mile and came to a large parking area in front of a huge Victorian style mansion. I had expected a modern, log ranch-house. This place looked straight out of a Gothic novel.

We parked. I hopped out of the truck, gazing at the mansion, my mouth hanging slightly open. Between the gravel parking area and the house, sprawled an extensive flower garden. The lights from the house glowed down on the gravel path that led to a wraparound porch dripping with flower boxes.

Joshua pulled my things out of the back of the truck while I gawked at the house. A pointed turret jutted up from the middle of the roof rising above a series of dormers that surrounded it. The dormer windows looked out from all sides of the house, most of them glowing with warm tungsten light. The windows in the central turret remained black.

The front door swung open, and a man walked toward me. He was followed by a little girl in a flowing white nightgown and bare feet. In the distance, I heard a howl and I shivered.

The man approached me. I could see his broad shoulders and glossy black hair as the light of the moon illuminated his back. When he came closer, I could see his chiseled chin, high cheekbones, and dark eyes. He was immaculately groomed and impeccably dressed in what seemed to be high end designer clothing. He reached out to shake my hand while the little-girl  clung to his leg. When we touched, a surge of electricity pumped through my veins. I wanted to let go, but he continued to grip me in his strong, smooth hands. 

“I’ll just take these upstairs,” said Joshua.

“I’m Nathanial Ellis, Ms. Elder. I am pleased you have come. This is my daughter, Morgan,” he said looking down at the girl. He released my hand and put it on his daughter’s tangled black hair. “Morgan, say hello to Ms. Elder. She will be your new teacher.”

Morgan’s pale face sank into her father’s side, and she peeked up at me through thick, black lashes. She didn’t speak. I bent down to her height and smiled brightly at her.

“We’re going to have loads of fun, Morgan. I’m so happy to meet you.”

“You aren’t my mother!” the little girl screamed before she tore back to the house.

I was taken aback. I hadn’t expected that kind of reaction. Mr. Ellis hadn’t said anything about the child having emotional issues. She had lost her mother a year ago, but her reaction seemed extreme and out of context.

“I’m sorry,” said Mr. Ellis, backing up, “She’s been through a great deal. I’m afraid the child spends too much time alone. Please, come inside, you must be freezing.”

I shivered, holding my hands tight to my upper arms, and followed him inside. The front entrance was as magnificent as the exterior. I was met by an ornately carved wooden staircase that led to the upper levels and dark wood floors polished to a high sheen. To my right, a doorway led into what looked like a formal parlor with a roaring fire in a brick fireplace. Mr. Ellis directed me to the parlor while Joshua walked through the front door and up the stairs with my second box.

I walked into the parlor. The room was furnished in delicate Victorian antiques, and the walls were painted a pale yellow. A floral upholstered couch sat by the fireplace, and Mr. Ellis directed me to have a seat. He went to a sideboard filled with decanters and etched glasses, and poured himself a glass of scotch over ice then turned his face to me.

“Would you like a drink?”

“I’d love one.”

He sprayed soda over ice cubes, poured two shots of scotch in the glass, and handed it to me. I sipped slowly and let the warmth of the liquor stream down my throat, warming my chest and stomach. I sat back in the couch and stopped shivering.

“This was my wife’s favorite room,” he said, sitting in an overstuffed chair across from me. “You can’t see it now that it’s dark, but this window looks out on the garden.”

“Oh, that sounds nice.” I didn’t know why he was telling me about his wife, other than to try to explain the feminine decor. I took another sip of my scotch and soda and waited. I was already feeling uncomfortable. The episode with the child had left me shaken, and I honestly didn’t know if I was qualified to address serious emotional issues. My hand itched to reach for my cellphone to call Kimmy to tell her I’d be on the next flight back to St. Louis. On top of that, my new boss was making me feel tingly in my private places.

“Morgan has been distant since her mother passed away. Part of her is missing; you see. She needs more than education.”

I cleared my throat. “While my education qualifies me to address a number of developmental issues in children, I am not a child psychologist. You must understand that, Mr. Ellis.”

“I understand, Ms. Elder. I didn’t hire you because I thought you were a psychologist. I believe your skill set is what my Morgan needs. From the way you wrote your letter, I assumed you were capable of helping her. Was I wrong?”

His words stung, and my face flushed. I put my glass down on the table a little too heavily, and it made a loud clunk. I stood and walked to the fire to soak up the heat while I decided how to respond. My legs were covered in goose bumps, and my mostly bare feet seemed to be turning purple.

“We agreed on a two-week trial, Mr. Ellis. Let’s just see how things go. The child is confused. We will give her time. As for tonight, I’d like to see my room and get some much-needed  rest.”

“Of course, Joshua will show you.”

I turned and found the cowboy standing in the doorway. He looked so out of place in the feminine Victorian sitting room. I had to blink a few times. Maybe it was the excitement and the few sips of scotch, but everything seemed surreal. I needed sleep.

I followed Joshua up the creaky wooden staircase, past a balcony, down a hallway decorated with an old-fashioned paisley print runner-carpet and landscape paintings in antique frames. Joshua opened a door and showed me into a comfortable room with a canopy bed covered in billowing blankets and a lacy dust ruffle. A sweet little vanity with a pillow top stool sat next to a big dormer window with a padded window seat, lined with throw pillows. A working fire place stood opposite the bed, where a fire had already been built. In front of the fire was an overstuffed arm chair.

I clapped my hands together and walked into the room. It was absolutely adorable. This room made the whole trip worth it. The bed looked like I could melt down into the mattress and sleep like a princess.

“You like it?” said Joshua in his sarcastic tone.

“I love it.”

“Good night then,” he said, shutting the door behind him.

My boxes and suitcase were stacked behind the door in front of a wall lined with empty shelves and an empty chest-of-drawers. There was a big closet behind a ruffled curtain on the other side of the bed. I wanted to unpack, but I was drained and a little freaked out. A rush of exhaustion washed over me, and I felt like I was about to become hysterical. A tear slid down my cheek, and I wiped it away.

I went to my suitcase and pulled out the red flannel pajamas I usually wore in the winter and slipped them on. I pulled a novel out of my backpack, switched on the bedside lamp, switched off the overhead light, and climbed into bed. The room was filled with the soft glow of firelight, and the mattress couldn’t have been more comfortable. The linens smelled of lavender as I sank down onto my pillow.

I cracked open my book, read two pages, and fell asleep.

 

 

I was in a garden. Cherry blossoms budded all around. The air smelled of the subtle scent of daffodils. I laughed as I ran. My hair bounced around my shoulders and over a flowing white dress that clung to my exuberant body. Sensations traced over my skin like delicate fingers playing piano.

I ran through the garden, full of the ripening abundance of spring time. My lungs breathed the beauty in the air. My bare feet touched soft new grass. I twirled around, dancing. Petals fell in my hair. When I slowed down, I saw him. A boy. He stood before me in the garden. Tall and strong with waving blond hair. His hand reached out for me.

“Who are you?” I asked in the underwater dialog of dreams.

“I’m him.”

“Who?”

“I’m Owen.”

I took his hand, and he pulled me into his chest. He was dressed in an old-fashioned  white shirt and black slacks. His feet were as bare as mine. His touch intensified the waves of sensation on my skin. I giggled and clung to him. He felt good. His body was supple and strong, as if he spent his time swimming in lakes and running wild through the vast Montana woods.

“How did you get here?” I asked him, clinging to his chest. He smelled of honey and deep forest.

“I’ve always been here. It is you who have just arrived.”

“Good. We can be together now.”

I took his hand and pulled him through the garden. We ran with the soft grass between our toes. Laughter echoed in the hazy dream world. He caught me up and twirled me around until the stars poked through the blue sky.

“Come with me,” he said, as he led me by the hand through the garden.

We passed an ancient oak grove until we came to a little rocky stream. On a grassy ledge, we sat with our feet dipping into the cool water. Behind us was a bough of soft ivy that arched over a bed of moss.

“This place is enchanted,” he said holding my hand. I tilted my face up to his, the waves of my Titian hair cascading down my ivory back. He bent down and pressed his lips to mine. Fireworks exploded inside me sending little sparks through my chest and between my legs.

Our kisses deepened, and he held me intimately close. I felt soft and languid, like the petals of a rose. The back of his knuckles caressed my cheek as he drew me into the bed of moss below the arch of ivy. I let him take me there. I lay my head in the soft green lichen, my hair spilling around me, my curvaceous body open and willing. He ran his hand up my leg, over my stomach and gently cupped my breast.

I put my arms around his neck and waited for him to kiss me again. His face moved toward me, and he opened his mouth into mine. Our tongues danced as he reached under the skirt of my dress. I had no panties, and his fingers touched the soft longing of my flesh. A shock pricked my body as his caress lightly brushed the outside of my lips. I gasped under his kiss and let my legs fall open.

His fingers sought my moisture, tickling at the seam that stood between him and my desire. He pressed inside, letting the flood of moisture drip onto his fingertips. Lubricated with my own passion, his fingers delicately rubbed my erect pink mound. I gasped and arched my back as he kissed down my neck and over my exposed décolletage.

My nimble fingers hastily plucked open the buttons on my lacy bodice letting the pale flesh of my breasts pour through. Owen’s tongue circled a pink nipple and flicked it while his finger pushed further into my yearning darkness. My breathing accelerated as his hands pumped inside me. His thumb rubbed my clit while his index and middle finger pressed in and out of my pussy.

I could feel him hard against my leg. Owen’s chest was exposed through the opening in his shirt. I glanced down to see lean rippling muscles, flexed to keep his weight from crushing me. I reached down to grab his cock over his trousers, and I kneaded it with my hand. He buried his head in my breasts and let out a pleased sound into my skin.

The feeling of his cock in my hand and his fingers inside me excited me beyond reason. The dream world shifted colors: pink, purple, violet. His fingers pushed inside me vibrating on my clit and pressing against my g-spot. I let my legs fall wide open, and his fingers pounded into me. I could hear the sound of flesh pumping into flesh. His teeth nibbled at my nipples, and the tide of desire rushed against my body.

I felt excitement rise in me like a flooded dam. The waters rose until there was nothing left to contain it. My breath panted as the climax erupted inside me. I let out a long, squealing “Ohhh,” and clung to my dream boy.