Page 24 of Miles. Alton & The 9:04 (Modern Mail Order Brides #19)

He watched her resting in the bed and slowly pulled himself from her embrace. After slipping on a pair of loungers and boots, he pulled a shirt over his head and headed out the back door. There were still a few rays of the day remaining as he looked out over his land.

Twenty-five thousand acres didn't seem like a lot initially when he thought of the jazz festival he wanted to have on the property.

However, when he factored in the cost of laying railroad tracks to go inside Mae's barn for her diesel engine, the idea of the jazz festival seemed, well, kind of dumb.

“She's right, let the City of Alton foot that bill,” he mumbled, looking at the train depot.

Thom walked off the porch to climb the small incline, then the stairs to his personal train museum.

He thought of opening it to the public, and people wanting to touch his toys.

He considered the hours needed to open the museum, staff, and people wandering in off the highway.

His home was too close by, and he wished he'd planned it better because now all he could see was some weirdo, circling back to his home, wanting to go after Mae because she smiled at him and passed the creep a free lollipop.

“Maybe it should simply be virtual tours of the museum with facts and history of the train, the sets, and the collection,” he said to himself. “It wouldn't need to be open to the public. I wouldn't have to pay staff or work on the weekends and would be free to travel with Mae on her train engine.”

He made his way home, looking at the house which now had curtains on the main windows—a nice home on a good plot of fertile soil, perfect for growing veggies.

In the backyard, under the cover of darkness, the motion sensor lights kicked on.

Thom reviewed the area where he wanted to plant a small garden of leafy greens, beans, and maybe some squash.

He considered tomatoes but thought those would be better on the deck in pots along with hanging berry baskets.

“Thom?” he heard Mae call for him. “Thom, are you out here?”

“Yeah, heading in,” he called back. He stood a moment longer, staring into the darkness, wondering if there was anything in the darkness staring back at him.

Suddenly, an idea hit him. “What if her family wants to come for a visit? Do I want them in our home? Thanksgiving? Oh God, the idea of arguing over dinner and I can’t escape them is not going to work. ”

A knot formed in his stomach at the thought, then just as the fear appeared, it eased off. “What am I thinking? I have twenty-five thousand acres. I can put a double wide over there and let them stay in it when they come.”

He thought of Kimbrae's husband Peter, whose family had a separate building where everyone met for the holidays to share meals.

It was the building where they held the wedding reception for Peter and Kimbrae.

The idea of the kids being able to ride bikes and run and play in the open fields made him smile.

He thought of fireworks on the Fourth of July and a big cookout with water slides.

Aunt Sue had badminton sets for them when they grew up and tennis rackets that people often donated.

A great deal of that stuff was still in the barn.

“A barn,” he said. “I can buy a barn-like building for when the family comes. We have cookouts there, and no one is in our bathrooms.”

“Thom?” Mae called again.

“Coming,” he said, walking onto the back deck. The light from the bulb backlit him as he walked up, making Mae smile.

“You are fine looking man, Thom Brown,” she said, noticing the wide shoulders. He had lots of sinewy, corded muscles from physical labor and just enough height. No one would consider him to be classically handsome, but to her, he was simply stunning.

“Are you trying to make out with me again, Miss Lady?”

“No, but I would like to know what you were thinking about out there,” she inquired.

“I was thinking, I got it all wrong,” he said. “I got it all wrong, but you're showing me right. You're right for me. You feel right.”

“I don't know what that means,” Mae said, feeling unsure of what he was saying.

He entered the back door and secured it for the night. He led her to the couch and took a seat. He held her hand in his own, looking her in the eyes. Carefully, he strung together the words.

“Most men have a rough plan for their lives,” he said.

“Eight times out of ten, it includes a wife and some kids.

Preferably planned, but hey, life can make decisions for us and we go with what is correct versus what we know in our hearts is right.

I've always gone with what is correct, and for the first time in my life, I am going with what feels right. You feel right. This feels right.”

“And the jazz festival, haunted train ride, the museum?”

“Yeah, that was some wishful thinking and some bullshit,” he said, laughing.

“I get sick of dealing with the people who come through the train station being rude and nasty.

I sure as shit don't want them on my land or touching my train collection. And heaven forbid some creep comes through here looking at you, fantasizing you want him because you gave him a free branded lollipop.”

Mae's eyebrows arched, “You lost me at the lollipop.”

“I just need a new plan, Mary,” he said. “Or maybe no plan at all, and we allow life to unfold for us esoterically, but there has to be a barn. I don't like a lot of people in my space.”

“Thom, why would we need a barn? For my engine?”

“No, for when your family comes for the holidays and cookouts,” he said, frowning at her.

“My family is going to stay in the barn?”

“No,” he said, chuckling. “The barn will be for the meals, the cookouts, and storing bikes, slip and slides for the kids, and sporting equipment. I am going to get a double-wide, and your family can stay in it when they come. Oh, maybe there is another idea I was considering as well. Either way, your Mamma is not going to be rambling through my stuff and making comments about my underpants.”

Mae burst into laughter. “I have no idea where you're getting all of this, Thom.”

“In-laws ramble, Mary,” he told her. “They come into your house, and the moment your back is turned, they are in the cabinets and your good liquor and taking shit they like.

We're not going to have that problem because they are not coming in my house. They will have their own. We can eat in the barn.”

The smile left Mary's face. She wasn't sure about his train of thought or why her family had to eat in the barn. He held up a finger, then went to fetch his phone. He came back to show her a photo of a barndominuim.

“Oh,” Mae said.

“If I get it at about this size, there can be two bunk rooms, one for the boys and the other for the girls,” he said.

“Three bedrooms for your brother, sister, and parents, which would make it five bedrooms, plus a play area with games, a big screen TV, and several bathrooms. It can also have a large kitchen with a big picnic-like dining table. If I add in on this end the large garage door, we can do some special coding with the walls for your engine, but my fear would be the diesel fuel smell.”

“Thom, this is kind of genius, but expensive,” she said.

“Naw, Adriano has plenty of these plans, which would take care of the up-front cost or getting a building schematic,” he said.

“Or I can simply order the metal building, pour the foundation, and get a crew in a few weeks later to frame it out. It can all be done in less than a month, if all goes well. Jeremy did one in his backyard for his campaign headquarters, and it works well for when his in-laws come for a visit.”

“A month?”

“Yeah, kill two birds with one stone and pour both foundations, but the tracks have to be laid for your engine,” he said.

“Maybe two months. I'm going to give myself four, but I know several train company track men who help me maintain the 9:04 line who can come through and lay track for your engine off the 9:04 line in a weekend. I just need to think about it, so I can get it right.”

“Or we can head to bed and think about getting married in the morning,” she told him.

“No, you don't understand men, Mary,” he told her.

“Your father and brother are going to want to come and see where you've moved to or if I have you living in some shack.

It's going to take them a month to coordinate everything because everyone is going to want to come and see. I have 45 days from the day I meet them until their arrival at best. I have to get the foundations poured. They are not coming in my house or playing with my trains, Mary, and your Mamma is not going through my underwear drawer.”

“What is with your fixation with the underwear?”

“Moms check those kinds of things to see if their daughter married a good wiper,” he said. “I have bidets in this house! No one is checking my underpants, Mary!”

“Dear God, man, relax,” she told him.

“I can't. I know pugnacious men, and they are bitches,” he said. “I have to be ready. I have to be ready to defend our castle and our lands.”

He stood in the middle of the floor, his hands on his hips as if he were William Wallace ready to make a stand against David the Bruce.

“Calm down, Braveheart,” she said, rising to pat him on the chest. “A step at a time.”

“Not calm. Thom needs a plan,” he told her, reaching for his phone.

She watched him carefully. He made four phone calls back-to-back at 9:30 at night.

When he hung up, his forehead was furrowed, his eyes were set, and in that second, she saw the face of their son.

A warm feeling hit her center, and she was more certain now than she'd ever been in her life.

Thom Brown was the right man and she'd chosen well.

Her father was about to meet an adversary he couldn’t best. Thom Brown was planning for war. She had no doubt that he would be the victor.