Clint continued, “Every mother and father’s fervent wish is that their children be happy. The best part of this weekend for Cassie and me is seeing our son happy. We have no words to express our appreciation to you for that.” He raised his glass again, “To Bart and Molly.”
This time the voices were quiet as the glasses clinked. Molly was blinking back tears. It was a lovely tribute and one she’d cherish, Bart’s leg pressed warmly against hers, as they drank the emotional toast.
After dinner, the campfire by the lake was lit and folks settled into their chairs, each with their choice of cognac, Jack Daniels, Glenfiddich, or coffee. Clint brought out a box of Cuban cigars in the fancy original box and walked around the circle offering a cigar to anyone who wanted one. To Molly’s surprise, everyonebut the kids took one. She wasn’t a cigar smoker but did enjoy the occasional smoke at festive occasions.
Having distributed the cigars, Clint went person to person, expertly making a precise cut and toasting the end with a torch flame lighter before handing it back for a proper lighting. Molly enjoyed the ceremony and letting Clint properly light her cigar. She took her first toke and smiled. She’d smoked a few cigars in her time, but this was special: an expensive Cuban cigar, most likely illegal, the draw beautiful, the smoke aromatic.
Bart kept throwing large logs on the fire, letting the flames shoot high as the air from the lake brought a welcomed cooling to the hot day. The cigar, cognac, and lakeside fire were the perfect ending to a beautiful party.
Naked in bed, Bart was spooned in behind, his arms holding her tight.
He whispered in her ear, “What’s your pleasure, cowgirl?”
She wiggled her rear into him and said, “Just like this, please, slow and steady. I’m exhausted.”
She continued to work her behind as he touched her with his hands. Molly could feel the stiffening process. Her head was light from the cognac and cigars, her face hot from the sun and building arousal. She lay still while he retrieved a condom and resumed his position spooned in behind. It was all the energy she had to raise her leg so he could slip inside. Once connected, they rocked slowly back and forth for a long time before she whimpered and let her contractions pull the fluid from his body.
She woke several times in the night to enjoy him. For the first time, he was still spooned behind. The second time, the positions were reversed.
And when she woke in the morning, she was back in his arms.
Chapter 23
Molly sat at her desk Tuesday morning processing the events of the week.
The Sunday trail ride to Twin Falls had been fun. After saddling up, they set up the horse race on the practice track behind the corral. The beautiful chestnut mares finished in a dead heat, just ahead of Bart on Rebel, and the rest of the pack. The trail ride was through a beautiful older forest and finished at two waterfalls where they laid out a picnic of leftovers.
Upon return, the family packed up, checked out of cabins, loaded horses, and, one by one, expressed their thanks to Molly.
Bart used Monday for business: his appointment with Gloria, provisioning in Omak, and his writing projects. Molly chose to not join him, feeling a need to reconnect with her business. Over drinks by the fire Sunday night, she’d debated pressing him on how long he was going to stay off the grid. Two days a month was fine for now. But were they going to have a relationship or not?
She decided not to press the issue. They’d just had a wonderful weekend with his family. She was still processing the gift of Ginger. The sex had been off the charts. She didn’t want to press right now when everything was going so well. And she really didn’t need bad news. The relationship was moving in agood direction and was becoming increasingly important to her. Finally, it would be better ifheproposed spending more time together. Much better than her nagging him into it.
But he didn’t say anything Sunday night, or Monday night, or Tuesday morning on departure, and Molly was disappointed. What were they, and where were they going? Was she just a good lay on a monthly visit? That was pretty convenient for a mountain man not wanting commitments. She couldn’t shake the image of cowboys in the wild west out robbing banks and stealing cattle who only came to town once a month to party in the saloon whorehouses.
Well, shereallydidn’t like that image.
The good news in Molly’s life revolved around resort finances. She’d checked the numbers on Monday morning and had been stunned. She was still processing the numbers Tuesday morning. The outside area at the diner was pulling people to the resort in unprecedented numbers, and that was boosting all resort businesses.
On Tuesday morning, Molly pulled up the financials for Stampede week again and tallied the week’s results. While she’d been out partying with Bart’s family, her team had turned in the biggest week in resort history. Twelve cabins at $300 per night for seven nights: $25,200. Forty RV sites for an average of $60 per night for seven nights: $16,800. A weekly total of 352 trail rides at $75 an hour: $26,400. Seven days of an overflowing restaurant with heavy liquor sales: $59,649. Seven days at a grocery store with strong beer sales: $46,354. Boat rentals: $12,485. Back country excursion fees for horses and mules,stall rentals, and exercising horses: $13,347. Total for one week: $225,435.
Molly ran the numbers over and over and compared them with the bank statements. They kept matching. Yes, she had expenses and a payroll against that, but still, she could feel the resort moving into new territory, a territory never imagined by the Macks who’d pioneered the business.
After reviewing the numbers a dozen times she came to a firm decision: her team needed to be rewarded.
At the bank, she requested $8,000 in one hundred dollar bills. Back in the Jeep, she divided the bills into groups of four, one stack each for Evelyn, Betsy, Mai, and Silas. She slipped $2,000 in crisp new $100 bills into four envelopes and called Evelyn, asking her to assemble the management team in her office. Then, as an afterthought, she returned to the bank and got nine more $100 bills, three each for Willie, Buck, and Becky for helping her entertain Bart’s family.
Mai and Betsy were walking together to her office when she pulled the Jeep into her parking place. She could see Silas ambling down from the stables. Mai was inside watching Shadow and the pups. Everyone assembled in her office.
“I know you’re all busy, so I won’t take more than a few minutes.” She surveyed the four faces of her team, each person trying to figure out why there were being called into an impromptu meeting with the boss. “I’ve finished reviewing the financials from last week. You see the numbers from the business you run, but you don’t see the resort totals. This meeting is just to say thank you for running your businesses the way you do. Not only did you set a resort record for oneweek’s business, each of your businesses is on a steady growth trajectory.”
Molly paused. She could see the looks of relief. No one was being fired or scolded. The boss was happy. The resort was making money.
“I don’t think Mack 1 or 2 ever envisioned what we’ve built here. They envisioned a sleepy fishing resort for crusty old men. But I marvel every day when I walk through the resort seeing children swimming in the lake, boats filled with fishermen, all the cabins rented, all the RV sites full, the restaurant overflowing with people waiting to get in, customers carrying sacks of groceries and beer out of the store, and families lined up at the stables waiting for the next trail ride.”
Molly paused again. Her team was now relaxed. The boss was saying thank you.
“I can’t believe I have the good fortune of having each of you managing your business. The reason for our success is the vision and attention to detail that each of you bring to your work.”
