The
R ancher
Copyrighted Material
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. This work is for adult audiences.
Copyright © 2019 by Olivia Saxton
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used to reproduce in any manner without the written permission of the author; except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Warning
This work of fiction contains explicit language and graphic sexual scenes.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Chapter Thirty-six
Chapter Thirty-seven
Chapter Thirty-eight
Chapter Thirty-nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-one
Chapter Forty-two
Chapter Forty-three
Chapter Forty-four
Chapter Forty-five
Chapter Forty-six
Epilogue
Thank you
Other Works
Copyright
Warning
Chapter 1
Adrian Matthews drove his pick-up truck down the highway. He was only ten miles away from the ranch. He had gone to Drew’s Bar for a beer. Adrian went there at least once a week.
He stopped at the stop sign at the fork in the road. A car was coming from the right. It was moving at a normal speed, but the car that was coming from across the road from Adrian wasn’t. The headlights on the speeding car were swerving from side to side.
“What the hell?” Adrian said.
Before he knew it, the swerving car T-boned the car that had the right away.
“Shit!” Adrian yelled as the cars collided. The vehicles just missed his truck by a few inches.
Tires screeched on the pavement with the sound of metal on metal. The idiot’s car, which Adrian could now clearly see was a Hummer, pushed and spun the other vehicle off the road and side first into a large oak. Adrian was in shock, and then anger rose in his throat when the Hummer revved and speeded down the road like nothing happened.
Adrian slammed the gear shift into park. He jumped out of his truck to see the Hummer’s taillights and the first three letters of the license plate. He ran across the road to the crashed four-door vehicle.
Luckily, it was the passenger side that was damaged and slammed against the tree. Adrian quickly opened the dented and scraped driver’s side door. The airbag had deployed and was resting in the driver’s lap. The driver, a light-skinned black woman, was out cold.
Adrian knew he shouldn't move her in that state, so he called out to her, “Ma’am! Ma’am!”
She didn’t move, yet her chest rose up and down with each breath.
Adrian dug in his pants’ pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He called 911. The operator told him that emergency responders were on their way. They asked him to try to reach for the driver’s purse to search for identification.
Adrian carefully reached his arm between the driver and the airbag. He felt a strap. He pulled it over. It was a big black purse.
He got back on his cell phone with the 911 operator. “I have it,” he said as he dug past two tampons, a Snickers bar, and a bottle of Midol to look for her wallet. Seeing feminine hygiene products usually made his nose turn up, but there was no time for that. The woman was still knocked out. She could be dying.
“Hold on,” he said frantically to the operator. “I found her wallet.”
“I need her name on the license.”
Adrian looked at her license. “Faith Lauren Roberts. It says here she’s from Miami, Florida.”
“Thank you for that information,” the operator said. “Now, are there any pill bottles in her purse? Like prescription medications that the EMTs should know about.”
Adrian quickly dug around a pack of Kleenex, a comb, a cell phone, and what looked like one of those electronic readers. “No, just a bottle of ladies’ aspirin and….ladies’….monthly products,” he stuttered.
It’s almost midnight. What in the world was this woman thinking traveling to another state this late – alone?
“All right, sir,” the operator said. “Please continue to stay on the line with me until the police and the EMTs arrive.
He looked around the darkness. There wasn’t a soul in sight. Elliot was a small town in Wichita County. The only people that would be out this late on a weekday were drunks and the unemployed. He knelt down next to the woman whose name was Faith Roberts.
Poor thing was still out cold. She was lucky that she didn’t have any burns from the airbag. Adrian examined her position. Her seat was leaned back pretty far. Her head was slightly cocked towards the passenger side.
In Texas, a person could smell a lot of things, cow crap, coming rain, bourbon, and freshly cut grass. But, the last thing any Texan wanted to smell was gas outside of the gas station.
Adrian’s eyes widened at the smell. He quickly looked under the car. Sure enough, the gas tank was punctured, and the liquid was doing a fast drizzle on the ground. If that wasn’t bad enough, Adrian heard crackling. He looked up. The sound was coming from the dashboard.
“Shit!” he yelled.
“What is it?” the operator asked with concern.
“This thing is going to catch on fire!” Adrian said. “Ma’am! Ma’am! Wake up!”
Her hand moved for a second.
“Emergency crews will be there in fifteen minutes,” the operator said.
Adrian watched as a spark crackled across the dashboard. “She doesn’t have fifteen minutes!”
“Don’t move her. She could have injuries that you can’t see.”
“A worse injury than her dying in a burning car!” he shouted with anger. “If I don’t move her, she’ll die.”
“Sir, stay on the line with me,” the operator said urgently.
Adrian hung up on the operator. He jammed his cell phone in his pocket. He slung the driver’s purse on his shoulder and started fighting with the seat belt.
“Come on damn you!” he shouted in frustration as he fought to loosen the seat belt.
The woman’s eyes started to flutter open.
Adrian finally got the seat belt unbuckled.
The woman groaned.
Smoke was coming from the hood.
“Jesus! Come on, woman!” Adrian said as he grabbed her.
She let out a little squeal of surprise. She was staring at him in confusion.
�
�Come on!” Adrian said and pulled her out of the car.
She let out a short shriek and leaned to one side. She was favoring her left leg.
Adrian didn’t waste time asking her what was wrong. If they didn’t get away from the car, it wouldn’t matter. Adrian scooped her up in his arms and trotted across the street. There was a small ditch in their path. He placed her down in it and quickly got on top of her.
“Hey, what the hell-” she said weakly in protest.
“Just put your head down!” he yelled and covered her with his body.
A loud boom shot out from across the road.
Chapter 2
Faith Roberts lay in the hospital bed at the Elliot Medical Center. Faith wasn’t sure if it could be called a medical center. It was the size of a welfare clinic. She barely remembered what happened or how she ended up here. What she did know was that some jagoff slammed into her, her eight-year-old Honda was destroyed, and she was in some hillbilly town in Texas.
A man in a white coat walked into her room. “Ms. Roberts,” he began. “It’s nice to see that you are awake.” He was in his mid to late fifties. He was a short, balding man. What hair he did have was curly and white.
Faith just stared at him. Who is this guy?
“I’m Dr. Seamus Green. I attended to you when the EMTs brought you in. How are you feeling?”
“Honestly? I feel like shit,” she said flatly. She had a headache, the side of her neck was sore and stiff, and her ankle was swollen under the gauze around it.
Dr. Green chuckled. “I’m not surprised, but it could have been worse. You could have come in here in a body bag. You were fortunate that you survived that hit and run.”
Faith nodded. “I see. So whoever hit me just drove off.”
“Looks like. The hero that saved you is talking to the sheriff now,” Dr. Green said. “The sheriff wants to talk to you, too. Before he comes in, I would like to take your vitals.”
“Sure,” Faith mumbled. What was she going to do? She couldn’t afford to buy another car. Half of her clothes were in the charred-up remains of her vehicle. Luckily, the cowboy who pulled her out of her car grabbed her purse. If he hadn’t done that, she would be away from home with no money or a cell phone.
Dr. Green checked her lungs and blood pressure. He flashed his penlight in her eyes. After he was done with his mini examination, he quietly made notes in a chart.
“Is the patient up for visitors?” a cop with a thick Texan accent asked as he walked in.
The cop was wearing a brown uniform with the biggest brown cowboy hat she had ever seen. His mustache was thicker than Burt Reynolds’s. The cop was tall and fat.
“For a few minutes,” Dr. Green replied without looking up from the chart.
The cowboy that saved her ass was standing behind the cop.
“Ms. Roberts,” the cop began as he took off his hat. His hair was blacker than black, like he dyed it. “I’m Sheriff Langford. I’m looking into your case. I need to know what happened from your perspective.”
Faith swallowed. “I’m afraid I don’t know much. I was driving down the road, heading to Dallas. I was approaching a crossroad, and then….it felt like my car was hit by a mac truck.”
Sheriff Langford nodded. “I bet it did feel that way. You remember anything else?”
“The next thing I knew, that gentleman next to you was carrying me across the road and putting me in a ditch. Then, my car blew up,” Faith said.
The sheriff nodded again. “I’ll be writing up a report. I’ll give you a copy to give your car insurance company so they’ll have proof of the damages.”
A lot of good that will do. The car was eight years old. I’ll be lucky if my insurance company will give me the blue book value, she thought.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Why were you heading to Dallas so late at night?” Sheriff Langford asked.
“I was traveling…cross-country,” she said. “I know it was late, but I had a full tank of gas and Dallas is only two hours from here. I would have made it if it wasn’t for the jerk that hit me.”
“If you got kinfolk in Dallas, I can call them. Tell them what happened. They’re probably worried that you haven’t shown up,” Sheriff Langford said.
“My family is in Florida. I don’t know anyone in Texas,” Faith said. “I’m on vacation. I was…just traveling.”
“I’m sorry that your vacation got ruined by a drunk driver, ma’am,” Sheriff Langford said.
“You know he was drunk,” she said.
“That’s what it looked like to our friend here,” Sheriff Langford said and gestured to the cowboy next to him.
“Adrian Matthews, ma’am,” the cowboy said and tipped his black hat to her.
She gave him a small smile.
“If it wasn’t for Adrian, you’d be charcoal crispy right now,” Sheriff Langford said bluntly. “No one is on that road at this time of night during the week. If Adrian wasn’t driving home, no one would have found you till morning. Then, it would have been too late.”
Faith looked at the cowboy. “Thank you, sir.”
“I’m just glad I was there,” he said.
“I’m going to keep you overnight for observation, Ms. Roberts,” Dr. Green said. “According to Adrian, you lost consciousness for the second time after your car caught on fire. I want to make sure you don’t have any brain swelling. I can release you tomorrow afternoon. Is there anyone that you can call to come pick you up?”
“I’m afraid not,” Faith said. “I don’t know anyone in Texas. If you gentleman can refer me to a rental car company, I’ll make my way to Dallas to check into a hotel tomorrow.”
“You are in no condition to travel,” Dr. Green said with a serious tone. “You have a sprained ankle, whiplash, and a concussion. You need to stay off that ankle for at least a week. Plus, you need to ice your neck and head for at least four days. I would prefer you stay closer to the medical center. I'll be able to do a follow-up on you in a few days.”
“Fine. I can check into a hotel here,” Faith said.
“You’ll have a hard time,” Adrian said flatly. “You’ll be on crutches. The hotel and two motels we got here don’t do room service. How will you eat?”
“I’ll figure something out. I usually do,” she said. Although she didn’t know what that was.
“I have a better idea,” Adrian announced. “There’s a small cabin on my ranch. It’s only one bedroom, but it’s cozy and homey. You can recover there. My aunt makes mean chili.”
Faith’s eyes widened. Who was this guy? She wasn’t going to stay with some stranger. Yes, he saved her life, but she didn’t know this guy from a bum on the street. “I appreciate your offer, Mr. Matthews, but-”
“Adrian,” he interjected.
“Adrian,” she repeated. “I am grateful. I truly am. You didn’t have to stop when you saw that I was in trouble, but I can’t inconvenience you any further.”
“No inconvenience for me,” Adrian said. “If I know my aunt, and I do, she’ll take you in like a dove with a broken wing.”
“That’s very sweet, but-”
“As your doctor, I would feel better if you took Adrian up on his offer,” Dr. Green said. “You shouldn’t be alone right now. Adrian is a good man. I’ve known him for years.”
“I have to second that,” Sheriff Langford added. “Adrian’s a helluva guy. I’ve known him since he was in kindergarten. And you don’t want to miss Aunt Bea’s cooking. I envy you being able to stay out there for a while.”
“Aunt Bea?” she inquired.
“My aunt,” Adrian said. “Everyone calls her Aunt Bea, though.”
“I see. It sounds nice, but-,” she struggled out. “How could she say thanks for saving my life, but you could be a sexual predator even though the sheriff and doctor vouched for your character?”
Adrian gave her a smile that would charm most women. “I assure you, I am not a rapist, murderer, or weirdo. What I am offering you i
s good ole-fashioned Texan hospitality.”
“Nothing like it in the world,” Dr. Green said with a smile.
Faith looked at all three men. They were expecting her to agree. The other option was to call her brother and sister-in-law in Florida to fly out to be with her. Faith’s insides bubbled at that idea. She could hear her brother now, I told you traveling alone was a bad idea.
She would rather take her chances with the possible serial killer. Faith looked at Adrian. “I happily accept your offer.”
Chapter 3
The next afternoon, Adrian hopped out of his truck at the Elliot Medical Center. He walked through the doors.
“Morning, hero,” Lodi, the receptionist, said. She had short blonde hair and blue eyes.
He gave her a small smile. “No hero, Lodi. Anyone would have done what I did.”
“I don’t know,” she said with a cheesy smile. “You have a way of being around when a damsel is in distress.”
“Is she ready to go?” Adrian asked.
“Yes, Dr. Green just gave me Ms. Roberts’s discharge papers. Poor thang miles away from family and friends. You’re doing a good thing taking her in,” Lodi said. “She seems nice, but you can tell she’s depressed.”
“I’m sure she is,” Adrian said. “One minute she’s enjoying a vacation and the next minute she’s injured in an accident and the driver callously drives away.”
The elevator doors opened. The medical center only had three floors; the basement, the first floor, and the second floor. A nurse was pushing a wheelchair with Faith Roberts in the seat. Dr. Green walked beside the wheelchair. A candy striper was walking behind them holding a pair of crutches.
Faith was in her clothes from last night. She had her large purse in her lap along with a plastic hospital bag. Her hair was auburn and straight. She was attractive. He didn’t notice it last night because of all the excitement.
“I really don’t need a wheelchair,” she said.
“Hospital procedure, Ms. Roberts,” the nurse said. “Just enjoy the ride.”
The Rancher Page 1