Chapter 1- First Meeting
Margaret drove into Livingston for her monthly supply run. She drove her old 85' GMC with the windows down. The air conditioning wasn't working again and she didn't have time to leave her truck at a repair shop for it to be fixed. She had things to do and a farm to run. It didn't matter overly much, it was an abnormally cool summer so far with the high only reaching the mid-eighties.
Cool air from the windows being rolled down flipped the strays of her platinum blonde hair that had escaped the long braid that was pulled over her left shoulder. Two-sixty air conditioning was all she needed, Montana never really did get too hot during the summer.
'Yikes,' She chastised herself with a chagrined smile, 'Don't jinx it!'
Two summers ago it was abnormally hot. She had thought she was going to melt before fall finally came that year. She had barely been able to stay out of the river and get any work done, it had been so hot.
The thought made her sad. She would have loved to have gone to the river and skinny-dipped with George. She missed him dearly. Her best friend and husband for twenty-four years.
'How dare he up and die on her like that!'
The loss and her subsequent loneliness pained her. Running the farm had to be done. She couldn't just let it go. It had been George's life. It had been their life. A legacy to leave their children, except, they never had any. She didn't know why. If it was her fault, or his, either way, they were just never able to conceive. It wasn't something to go to the doctors about. It was what it was. God had just not seen fit to bless them with children.
Pulling into the local Seed and Supply Store, Margaret hopped out of her truck and walked in.
"Good morning Val," She called out with a wave to the portly greying man behind the counter as she walked with a purpose toward the back of the store.
"Good morning Marg," He replied with a big smile and a wave, "Beautiful day we're having isn't it?"
"Sure is," She purred as she looked through the saddle straps hanging from a peg.
She looked over and smiled and for not the first time in their long retail relationship, she caught Val staring at her ass. He saw her turn her head in his direction and immediately looked up to meet her eyes, but she knew what he was really gazing at. Her ass. Her wonderfully wide, heart-shaped, capital-C, thick as a bookshelf ass! It was her one defining feature. Some women had tits. She had an ass. Thick and round and perfect. Or, so her husband had always said, and of course, she knew men had always leered at her so she supposed it was true. She had to admit, she knew her thighs were thick along with her calves. She had thick ankles and small feet, and she knew she absolutely slew a pair of Wrangler jeans.
Looking away, she smirked as a smidgen of ego warmed her belly. She really did like wearing her tightest fitting jeans on these monthly excursions to town. It felt good to know she still had the goods to turn men's heads even if she never intended to take advantage of it. She just simply didn't have time for a man now.
Grabbing a new girth strap and saddle blanket she walked back to Val and laid them on the counter. Val met her golden brown eyes, after all, her ass wasn't facing him at the moment as she said, "I will take these along with the rest of my regular order."
"Yes ma'am," Val answered, "I will have Darrel and Lance load your truck. I'll be here when you return."
"Thanks, Val," She said with a warm smile. Leaving the store she put a little more sway in her hips as she walked out and up the street.
Her next stop was Gina's Diner. She would get breakfast before continuing her shopping at the grocery store. As she walked up she saw a young man. Any man younger than her was a young man to her now, but this one was at least half her age. He sat on a bench outside of Gina's Diner with a sign in his hands announcing, "Will work for food, fuel, and lodging."
Marg could tell he was no vagabond. He sat there in an olive tweed suit with a motorcycle helmet on the seat beside him. Directly across from him, parked in a parking space, she assumed the Triumph cafe' racer was his.
'This is no homeless guy.'
'This is just a guy down on his luck.'
"Where are you from, kid," Marg asked as she stopped and stood in front of him with her hand on her shapely hips.
"Florida," He answered as he slowly looked her up and down, from her boots and Wrangler jeans to her tank-top, her blonde braids to her golden brown eyes.
When his eyes met hers she was fairly taken aback. They were a stormy grey-green, and they seemed tired and aged beyond his years. There was a story behind those eyes, and she wanted to hear it. Otherwise, the boy was handsome. Very handsome. Not Sean Connery or Clint Eastwood handsome. This kid was more Harrison Ford back in his Indiana Jones days handsome. Ruggedly so, not pretty.
'George had been ruggedly handsome.'
"Florida!" She laughed, "Well, I tell you what, this is my monthly supply run. I have a lot of shopping to do today and I need some help bringing it all back to my truck just over there."
She pointed to her truck parked in front of Val's Seed and Supply before continuing, "I will be here almost all day. If you help me out with the carrying and loading I will buy you breakfast and lunch."
"Yes ma'am," He answered immediately as he stood up and grabbed his helmet. He put the helmet on the seat of his motorcycle, and then he stretched his hand out toward her offering to shake on the deal.
Marg looked at him, and then took his hand and gave him a firm shake as she asked, "What's your name?"
