A/N: A huge thank you to all who have read, reviewed, commented, encouraged, and/or discussed Skylines and Wheatfields along the way. It has made may first foray into fic writing a memorable success.
Very special thanks to MariaLisa for her constant encouragement and her stellar beta'ing abilities. I've come so far with her tireless help. Big Hugs!
More thanks to Peanut2lb, Elainhe and notesofwimsey for being there when I needed that extra encouragement, clarifying discussion or a beta in a pinch. Hugs!
Mine Too
The page turns and here ends the lore
Of how a man stood for a woman
And won her heart and loyalty forever more.
-Sally Jetson
They crested the top step of the old farmhouse, hand in hand, to see Uncle Lariat reclining back in a chair, boots propped up on the porch railing and his hat pulled low over his face.
"Odd place to nap when it's below freezing," Danny murmured.
"Not if you're hiding out." Lindsay bumped a hip into Uncle Lariat's legs causing them to thunk down on the wooden porch as the chair legs thudded hard and arms and hat went akimbo.
"Damn woman! Can't a man just set?"
Lindsay's amused laughter rang out, "Uncle Lariat, it's just me, Lindsay."
"Thank the Lord, Lindsay; I thought it was your mamma… you know how she can't abide with no one just a settin'." Uncle Lariat grumbled apologetically as he straightened in the chair and righted the hat on his head.
"Uncle Lariat, you've met Danny, right?"
Lindsay curled a hand around Danny's bicep and beamed up at him. Uncle Lariat stood and held out a hand. As Danny gripped it tightly, he noticed Uncle Lariat's dark eyes still glittered at him but at least there was an ease in his stance.
"Yep, yesterday." Uncle Lariat turned his glittering eyes on Lindsay. "Y'all get things all patched up?"
"Yeah, we did."
"Good thing, 'cause your Mama's on a mission, Lindsay."
"What do you mean?"
"Lindsay!" Patrice burst through the front door to embrace Lindsay. "Are you okay? I can't believe you went up to Deer Lodge… what were you thinking?" Patrice laid her palm against Lindsay's forehead as if to check for fever… or a touch of craziness.
"Mom, I'm okay… really…Danny was there for me." Lindsay removed Patrice's hand from her forehead, squeezing it reassuringly.
Patrice clenched Danny's free hand in her own. "Thank you." Her motherly worry released; her eyes now brimmed with tears. She relinquished his hand, swiping her own beneath her eyes as Matt appeared in the doorway.
"Lindsay girl, are you okay?" His eyes were heavy with concern, hands thrust into his pockets, holding on to his emotions.
But as Lindsay hurried over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, he finally withdrew his hands allowing himself to release the tension into the tightening of his arms around her, his voice cracking, "You gave us a real scare! What possessed you to do such a thing?"
Patrice cleared her throat and telegraphed to Matt one of those Morse code looks that only couples that have been together for eons could decipher.
"Lindsay, come in the kitchen and help me finish dinner." Patrice looped an arm through Lindsay's and cast another meaningful glance at Matt. "You boys go finish up in the barn."
Matt nodded at her and sized up Danny for the second time in as many days. "Give me a hand in the barn, son."
When Lindsay threw a questioning look over her shoulder Danny smiled wryly, "Go ahead… looks I've been picked up for barn duty." Then he turned to Matt, shrugging, "I gotta warn you, I ain't too handy in the barn."
"I suspect you'll catch on quick." Matt gestured his head in Uncle Lariat's direction. "You comin' Lariat?"
"Reckon so… better than being in the fire with Lindsay."
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The barn had an earthy, pungent smell; not unpleasant and certainly better than most of the street smells of New York. But, contrary to what he'd heard about the proverbial roll in the hay, the rectangular bales stacked in the corner of the barn looked less than comfortable for 'rolling'.
"Ever groom a horse?" Matt asked, as he picked up a couple of implements that Danny assumed were intended for the aforementioned purpose.
Uncle Lariat led a horse out of one of the stalls and positioned it between them.
"Nah, this is the closest I've been to a horse, unless you count the track."
Matt cocked an eyebrow at him.
Danny held up his hands in explanative rebuttal, "Purely from an observational standpoint of course. I don't play the ponies."
Matt nodded, swiping long strokes down the horse's back, small clouds of dust billowing behind the brush.
"This here is Cinderella. Patrice named her because she's always been partial to story book endings." Matt worked his way over the hindquarters, "Ever see a finer piece of horse flesh?"
"Umm no." Dannyh wasn't sure if it was a rhetorical question or not but since he wasn't sure where this was heading he figured he'd better keep his head in the game.
"I don't argue with Patrice much when she gets a notion in her head." Matt's tongue curled out of one side of his mouth in deep concentration on the grooming for a few moments, squatting to methodically work his way down the mare's legs before continuing the conversation. "You ever tangle with a woman that's dead set in her ways?"
"Only one," he commiserated as he recalled how long it took him to finally wear down Lindsay's defenses and get close to her.
"Best one in the whole lot, long, shapely legs, strong hindquarters and those eyes…intelligent, sensitive… mesmerizing."
As Matt's voice took on traveling tone, he had to wonder if Matt was referring to Patrice or the horse.
Matt straightened and hooked a hand in the mare's halter, turning her head so he could run a hand from her forelock down to her muzzle. The mare nickered softly. "She'll give you her heart and her loyalty if you treat her right. Know what I mean?"
"Yeah." Again he didn't have much comment on what he thought was the horse aspect of the conversation.
Matt dropped the brush into the tack box, trailing his hand along the mare's neck as he ducked underneath the tether line. Stance wide, his hands propped on his hips, he faced Danny, locking a full face gaze on him.
And suddenly Danny knew they weren't talking about the horse any longer. He mimicked Matt's stance, "Sure, sure, I know what you mean."
"I wasn't crazy about her going to New York the first time she left neither was Patrice no matter how much at odds they were with each other at the time."
He couldn't come up with an adequate response so he just bobbed his head in agreement and kept his mouth shut.
"Can't much abide with her going back this time but I'm willing to stand in her corner if I know she's got a good reason for going."
Danny swallowed hard, staying the panic that suddenly rose in his throat. He'd always thought country folk beat around the bush; he wasn't prepared for the significance of this conversation or for the importance of his response. In the end he decided to lay it out in country folk terms.
"I'm in her corner… come hell or high water."
Matt bobbed his head once and grunted softly as he held out his hand. Danny sighed inwardly, in relief, at his apparent success in this rite of passage as he returned Matt's strong grip.
"Then I reckon we best get inside."
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Immediately Danny sensed the tenseness between Lindsay and Patrice when he, Matt and Uncle Lariat entered the kitchen through the back door. At the moment, only the expressions on their faces were speaking.
Danny leaned back against the counter, behind Lindsay, determined not to interfere but lending silent support nonetheless.
When he looked over Lindsay's shoulder catching Patrice's eyes, she ducked her head, "Lindsay, we can finish this later."
Lindsay took a step back, reaching for Danny's hand. He instantly clasped it in his own, letting their hands rest on his thigh, keeping his breathing steady and even, concentrating on her determined profile.
"No Mom, anything you need to say, you can say to me now."
Her chin jutted up in determination and Patrice's responded in kind.
"Your home, your family, we're all here… in Montana."
"No, Mom, New York is my home. I have a life there, my friends are there. Danny is there."
"But Lindsay; New York? Just consider the pace of life. How can you possibly work through it all when you can't even concentrate?"
"How can I do it here when all I would have is time to think… see all the reminders, your face, her face-"
"You need support, Lindsay."
At this Danny pushed himself off the counter, resolutely straightening to his full height, standing next to Lindsay.
"I have support, Mom." Lindsay steeled her voice.
"But is it enough?"
"It is for me." This time her voice velveted the steel. "Is this about me…or is this about you?"
Patrice's head dropped and Matt stepped up behind her, settling his hands on her shaking shoulders, as she exhaled a quivering sob.
Lindsay closed the distance between them embracing Patrice, their tears and their pain beginning to mingle.
"I miss her, Lindsay."
"I know, Mom, I do too, but me being here isn't going to bring her back. We have to move on… and heal… each in our own way."
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"So is it really true?" he barely managed against her assaulting lips.
"What's that?" she throated as she trailed kisses over to his ear.
"That we're sleeping in separate rooms," he groaned as she flattened him against the wall with her body.
"Not if you're willing to take the risk…" she breathed into his ear sending a surreptitious thrill through his body.
He wove his fingers through her hair tipping her head back so he could gauge her expression.
"What's the risk?"
"Ass full of buckshot."
A grin spilt his face. "Risk is my middle name, Montana."
She laughed softly. "Here's the deal… no boy-," she quickly changed her wording when she heard his disgusted snort, "I mean… no man has ever snuck up to my room and made love to me underneath the very noses of my parents."
He rolled his eyes. "Piece of cake, Montana…. lead the way."
She widened hers innocently, "To where?"
"To your room."
"My room is over there," she gestured to her left, "but you," she continued as she tugged at his arm, peeling him away from the wall, "you have to come through the window."
"What? You gotta be kiddin' me…. through the window?"
When she placed her hands under her armpits and began flapping her elbows, he pointed a finger at her, "I ain't chicken!"
"Trellis is on the left side of the front porch. My window is just above it."
She didn't catch the expletive as he started down the stairs but a saucy grin graced her face as she hurried to her room.
She threw open the sash settling on the window seat waiting for what seemed like eons before she heard more expletives coming from the direction of the trellis. This time she caught his mutterings as she heard his thud onto the roof.
"Ouch! What I won't do for a piece of country girl ass! I must be outta my mind."
He crawled through the window none too ceremoniously and landed in a heap on the floor.
"You're not very good at this are you?" Laughter danced in her eyes as a soft giggle pushed through her lips.
He scrambled to his feet and scooped her up into his arms. Her squealed, "Whoa Daaannnnny," was all she could muster when he dropped onto the bed expertly pining her body with his own, securing her hands with only one of his, leaving the other free to roam along her body at will.
"Now, about me not being good at this," he teased as his hand slipped lower to brush along her breast.
"I don't think you've ever snuck up to a girl's bedroom before," she challenged
"Never had to… they've always invited me in through the front door…." At her incredulous look he continued in mock honesty, "I mean, I'm just that hot and they're just that eager."
"Well, I think that says more about your choice in girls, than your hotness."
"Ya doubtin' my hotness, Montana?"
"That and your choice in girls."
"Uh, uh, Montana, I wouldn't go there if I were you 'cause you're the girl who is lying beneath me now."
"That's where you're wrong," her voice dropped from playful to husky as her eyes muted into softness, "I'm the woman lying beneath you."
His gazed turned serious before he spoke again; humbly and softly, "The kind of woman I thought I'd never have."
His simple declaration caught her off guard, the emotion sweeping through her as tears formed in her eyes. His thumb caught the one that escaped.
"Damn Montana," his own voice husky, "I didn't sneak up here to make you cry, I was really hoping to get lucky."
Her smile broke through the melancholy, "Keep talking like that, Cowboy and you'll be getting lucky until the cows come home."
"Careful, I may have to hold you to that."
"Promise?"
"I promise."
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The wave of emotion took her by surprise as the cloud cover swallowed the final remnants of the Gallatin Valley. She quickly brushed the back of her hand across her eyes.
He caught her hand in his, pulling it to his lips for a quick kiss before securing it in his lap, murmuring, "We'll be back."
She cushioned her head back against the seat giving him a sideways look with the beginnings of a watery smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
"We?"
"Sure, the way I see it, you are miles ahead on skylines and I'm zip on wheat fields," he said as he peered through the '0' made by his thumb and forefinger.
She laughed lightly, "That's true; there are no wheat fields in the winter time. But I have to admit as beautiful as a wheat field is, the look doesn't vary like a skyline. You may get a little tired of looking at wheat fields."
He gave her a surprised look before his face settled into an indulgent cast, his finger trailing along her cheek, "Maybe so, but I'll never tire of looking at the expression on your face every time you see a wheat field."
He placed a tender kiss at the corner of her gaping mouth, "Glad to know I can still take your breath away, Montana." He gave her a satisfied look before stretching out his legs, settling his head back against the seat and closing his eyes, "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got some catching up to do on my sleep. Some insatiable woman kept me awake most of the night fulfilling her most erotic fantasies."
He shifted his position to accommodate her snuggling into his chest, his arms enveloping her, his chin resting atop her head, her hand palmed over his heart.
She hadn't realized her words, "You're my fantasy, Danny Messer, my fantasy come true," had been spoken aloud until his chest rumbled beneath her hand.
"Mine too, Lindsay Monroe. You're mine too."
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A/N: I'm not guaranteeing it but I'm planning an epilogue (later on) to bridge into my next fic but for now this is it. Thanks again for all the support! It has meant the world to me. SJ