Hot Cowboy Nights

by Carolyn Brown

  Lizzy pushed at the airbag and unfastened her seat belt. “Are you alive?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he said hoarsely. “Don’t put your feet on the ground. Unless I was seeing things, we’re sitting in about a foot of water, nose down into a creek with a high muddy bank on both sides of us.”

  He fought with the bag, opened his door, and stepped out onto the running board, which was a mere two inches above the stagnant water. “We aren’t getting out of here until someone comes along and sees us, Lizzy. We’ve gone through a guardrail and it’s at least fifteen or twenty feet up to the road, and the rain has turned it into nothing but a slippery mess of red clay. I don’t think we can get out without a rope or someone’s help.”

  She crawled over the front seat into the back, away from the air bag.

  He followed her example. “Are you sure you aren’t hurt? You didn’t hit your head or get whiplash?”

  “I’m fine, Toby, but who shot at us?” she asked.

  “It was a blowout. If we hadn’t slowed down to look at that twisted cell phone tower, we would have rolled and probably been upside down with water up to our noses or higher.”

  “So there is a silver lining in this dark cloud? Looks like we slid right into Miller’s Creek.”

  “Much traffic going through here at this time of night?” he asked.

  “We can only hope,” she said.

  His long legs were not made for a cramped backseat and he couldn’t get comfortable. He groaned and flattened out a palm over his chest. Lizzy moved from the corner where she’d hugged up to the door to give him more room.

  “Please tell me you aren’t having a heart attack.”

  “I’m not having a heart attack,” he answered with a chuckle. “You okay?”

  “It scared me, but it was like slow motion and I knew we weren’t going to roll when we started to slide. Ouch!” she exclaimed as her knee bumped her chest.

  “Seat belt, right?” he asked.

  “We’ll both have a bruise, but we could have gotten bloody noses from the bags so we’re lucky. This is going to make for some cramped quarters. Let’s go to the bed of the truck.”

  “It’s sitting at a pretty good angle,” he said, “and we’d have to crawl over the side. Getting there wouldn’t be nearly the problem as getting back if we don’t like it. But I do have a blanket stashed in the toolbox back there.”

  “Anything is better than this,” she said. “Let’s give it a try. If I don’t like it, I’ll wade down this creek and find a way out of here.”

  “You’re taking this well,” he said.

  “It’s not raining. It’s a fairly nice night. We’ve got a burger and four tacos plus tea if we’re brave enough to trust our bladders. It could be a hell of a lot worse.” She paused for a breath and winced at the pain in her shoulder from the seat belt. “How many women have been on that blanket in your toolbox?”

  “None,” he answered quickly. “Not a single one because it’s a brand-new one, but we will definitely not talk about the one that it replaced. Are you ready to try this acrobatic act?”

  “The front seats are full of air bags. You couldn’t cuss a cat in this backseat without getting a hair in your mouth or scratched all to the devil, so it’s either that or walk home with wet feet.” She picked up the brown bag with their food and tried to open the door, but it was jammed. “Looks like you are going first and I’ll climb out on that side.”

  He pushed against the door but it didn’t budge. “And we will be using the windows because my door isn’t opening, either. Dammit! I liked this truck.”

  “It might not be totaled,” she said.

  “It’s eight years old, which means it probably is, but it’s paid for and I wanted to be on my feet before I had to buy another one.”

  Lizzy pushed the button to roll down her window and nothing happened. “Are the keys still in the ignition?”

  He bent at the waist, leaned over the seat as far as possible, and tried to start the engine. Like the windows, not a damn thing happened. The only thing left was to push the bags out of the way, go out the front doors, and crawl over into the bed of the truck.

  “My side board is underwater,” she said. “So I’ll have to follow you out your side. Here, take the food bags and flip them over into the truck bed. We may be glad to have them if we aren’t found by breakfast time.” She flipped a leg over the seat and used her boot to stomp the air bag into submission.

  The truck had created a dam with water rising up level with the running board and still climbing. When Toby stepped out, his foot slipped. Grabbing the top of the truck, he let out a string of swear words that made an old bull over there on the other side of the embankment throw back his head and bellow.

  “Guess he’s a preacher.” Lizzy laughed.

  “It’s not funny.” Toby inched his way up the slick surface until he could ease a leg over into the bed of the truck. But the whole vehicle was nose down on a fairly steep incline so he didn’t have anything steady to step into. Finally, with a leap, he landed on his butt with a thud, his boots coming to rest only a few inches from the bag with the food in it. God help him if he smashed her burger. She’d been a good sport, but after a night in the sloped back of a truck and no breakfast, she would have every right to turn into a shrew.

  Lizzy had never been graceful. Fiona could scramble up a tree like a monkey and Allie could maneuver around on an uneven rooftop as if she was walking on flat ground. But not Lizzy. She tripped over air and she could never get a toehold on even the rough bark of a small mesquite tree.

  She slung a foot out and hugged the top of the truck like it was a long-lost cousin. One step at a time, she made her way to the back where Toby held a hand out to her. She reached for it, and the slick soles of her boots gave way on the wet metal. She felt herself falling sideways and then boom; she was over the side of the truck and lying flat on top of Toby, her lungs deflated and gasping for air.

  “Welcome to my club house,” Toby gasped.

  She rolled to the side, her head a good foot higher than her boots that were braced against the toolbox down by the truck’s cab. “I wonder,” she inhaled deeply, “how that window got,” another quick intake of breath, “cracked.” She pointed to the spiderweb that started in the middle of the window and inched its way out to every corner.

  “Looks like a rock flew up when the tire blew out,” he said.

  “Or a twenty-two bullet?”

  “Lizzy, don’t see ghosts or villains where they don’t exist. Truman is the only person I know of that would try to run us off by shooting at our tires, and he’s so old he probably goes to sleep with the chickens.” Toby was still flat on his back, staring at the sky.

  “I hope you are right because if he did do this I’m going to pray that God kills all of his goats,” Lizzy said. “Where is that blanket? We can use it for a pillow.”

  The toolbox popped right open and he brought out a zippered bag with a thick red blanket in it. In a few minutes they were side-by-side, bodies touching and sharing a rolled-up blanket for a pillow.

  “Why did you have this tucked away in a toolbox?” she asked.

  “My mama gave it to me for Christmas and I forgot to put it in the trailer when I moved up here. She found it just as I was about to leave, and I put it in the toolbox because there wasn’t any room in the truck. Fate blessed us, I guess.” He slipped an arm under her and pulled her closely to his side. “If we don’t huddle up, the pillow will be too small for us both to use.”

  Lizzy had a choice. Either be able to sleep but wake up with a sore neck, or lay awake wanting what she knew she couldn’t have but at least be semi-comfortable. She chose to stay cuddled up next to him. His big strong body made her forget all about the fact that they were trapped in a deep ravine with milk chocolate–colored water flowing all around them. Strong arms held her close and his chest made a wonderful pillow. She wiggled in a little closer into his warmth, feeling safe and happy as she drifted off
to sleep.

  The sun was peeking over the eastern horizon when she awoke the next morning, surprised that she’d slept with no hint of dreams. “Hey, anybody in there?” A deep voice yelled at the same time a rock hit the side of the truck. “If y’all is alive, raise up and answer me.”

  Lizzy braced herself, peeked over the truck bed at an elderly man squatting on the other side of a barbed wire fence at the other edge of the gully. “We’re fine. Do you have a phone?”

  “Back at the house. This gall-durned thing the kids bought me to carry around in my pocket ain’t worth a damn since the tornado swept through here. Want me to call someone for you?” The man was a short little fellow with a crop of curly gray hair and deep wrinkles. “Good thing y’all didn’t try to wade that water to find help. I ain’t never seen Miller Creek rushin’ like that. You would have drowned for sure if you’d tried to follow the creek, and there ain’t no way you could have scaled them banks, muddy as they are.”

  Lizzy nodded. “I figured that much. We sure would appreciate it if you’d make a call for us.”

  Toby sat up and waved at the guy. “Please get in touch with Blake Dawson at the Lucky Penny Ranch. Got something to write with?”

  “Sure I do. Never leave the house without a pencil and some paper these days or I forget what it is I’m supposed to do. Wife says the whiskey has eat my brain up. Don’t know if she is right, but it was good whiskey so I ain’t complainin’.” He took a stubby pencil and a small notepad from the bibbed pocket of his overalls.

  Toby gave him the number. “Thank you so much. We really appreciate your help. I don’t think we can get out of here on our own.”

  “You’re right welcome, young man, and you’re right. You got to have some help. My tractor is down or I’d drive it around and see if I could pull you up.” He wrote down the number and shoved the notepad back into his pocket. “I heard tell that half a dozen septic tanks up the road is overflowed with all the rain we got and that’s what you are sittin’ in. So y’all just sit real tight and I’ll call this here number for you.” He slapped the bull on the butt, got on a four–wheeler, and disappeared down a path.

  “Good mornin’,” Toby said. “Ready for my morning-after breakfast?”

  “Allie told me about that little send-off that you do for the women you pick up. Is that to appease your conscience? Give them something since they gave you something?” she asked.

  “Share something with them because we shared something is the way I like to think of it.” He raked his fingers through his hair but it didn’t downplay his sexiness; if anything the dark stubble on his face, the sleep still in his eyes, and the wrinkled clothes made him even hotter.

  “Changing subject here,” she said. “How long do you think it will be before Blake gets here?”

  “Depends on whether our new forgetful friend remembers that he has a phone number or if his wife finds it when she empties his pockets to wash those overalls next week,” Toby answered. “I’ll share my tacos for breakfast since I can’t make biscuits and sausage gravy for you.”

  “They’ve been sitting out all night. They’re probably soggy and we’ll get sick if we eat them anyway. I’ll wait until we get home to eat. Besides now that the rancher told us where part of that water is coming from, it smells bad.”

  She changed her mind when he removed the paper wrapper from the taco and the morning breeze wafted the taco aroma straight to her nose. “Give me one of those things. I’d rather spend a day in the bathroom with food poisoning as starve to death. At least it will give me strength to walk home this morning.”

  “The aroma of what we’re surrounded by…” he started.

  She put a finger over his lips. “I’m pretending it’s the bull over there in the pasture that I smell.”

  He grinned. “Two for you and two for me and then we can share your burger, right?”

  “Just give me my tacos and you can have the burger if you like soggy lettuce and buns.” She reached out her hand and he put two tacos in it.

  The shell was soft and the filling wasn’t the best, but the only thing that would taste better was a cup of hot black coffee. Thinking about liquid of any kind made her bladder feel like an overripe watermelon about to explode, so she pushed that idea to the back of her mind.

  Toby polished off his second taco and reached for the hamburger. “Now that it’s daylight and we can see better, we might try to scale the muddy embankment. We’ll get muddy and if we lose our foothold, we’ll wind up in that filthy water. If someone isn’t here in an hour, I’ll take the rope that’s in the toolbox and give it my best shot.”

  “Rope?” she asked.

  “If I can make it to the top, then I’ll throw the rope down and you can use it to climb up.”

  He started to tear the sandwich in half but she shook her head. “You can have it all. It won’t be long until I won’t need a rope; I’ll scramble up over that wet mud like a mountain goat.”

  He chuckled. “I’m going to sit right here and watch your cute little butt wiggle its way up that muddy mess.”

  They could hear a vehicle approaching for several seconds before it was right overhead and then the squeal of brakes. “Hey, y’all all right down there? Need some help?” a woman’s voice yelled down.

  “We’re fine but we don’t have phone service. Would you make a call for us?” Toby cupped his hands over his mouth and hollered.

  “Sure I will. Soon as I get to the church over in Dry Creek. They’ve got a phone there. What number do I call?”

  “Henrietta, is that you?” Lizzy shouted.

  “Yes, it is. Oh, my goodness! Lizzy Logan?” The truck door slammed and Henrietta peered down over the edge. “Is that Toby Dawson with you? How long have you been down there?”

  “Yes, it is and we had a blowout last night. We had to spend the night here because we can’t climb up and the ditch is full of nasty water. Please call my sister at the Lucky Penny,” Lizzy said.

  “Sorry, darlin’. I cannot call her, or your mama, or Dora June will get really mad at me.” She eyed the red blanket and narrowed her eyes at Lizzy. “Too bad you were keepin’ company with that man or I might have helped you. Don’t suppose you are goin’ to make it to church, are you?”

  “Not unless you make a phone call,” Lizzy said.

  “Come on, Miz Henrietta. Think of the Good Samaritan in the Bible. Are you going to pass on the other side and leave us down here to die or are you going to have the right spirit about this?” Toby asked.

  “You can’t sweet-talk me, Mr. Dawson. Let this be a lesson to you, Lizzy.” Henrietta disappeared. The truck engine started back up and the rattle of tires on a country road faded until nothing but the sounds of a spring morning were heard in the bed of the wrecked truck.

  “She won’t help us, but I bet she tells everyone she meets about this,” Lizzy fumed.

  “You can bank on that. Reckon your mama is going to bring a shotgun and make me marry you since we’ve slept together now?” he asked.

  “I can’t imagine you married to anyone, with or without a shotgun to convince you.” She was amazed at the sad look that flitted across his face before he looked away.

  “Your reputation says that you’ve served up lots of morning-after breakfasts. What would you do if someone came up pregnant with your child?”

  Toby hesitated a moment. “I don’t know. Are you telling me something or is this hypothetical?”

  She put up a hand. “Purely hypothetical. I’m not pregnant and if I was, I wouldn’t marry you.”

  “Why?” He looked as if someone had hit him in the head with a hammer.

  “Because you would only be marrying me because of the pregnancy. You’ve already stated that you don’t want that lifestyle, so we’d both be miserable. I want a husband who can’t wait to get home to me in the evenings, not one who can’t wait to get away from me. A baby wouldn’t change what you or I either one want.”

  “Pretty blunt aren’t you?”
<
br />   “I tried that submissive crap. It didn’t work for me,” she said.

  Another vehicle passed but it didn’t slow down.

  “Third time is the charm,” Toby said. “Want to make a bet about how long it takes that third one to get here?”

  “Sure. Ten bucks says that Farmer Forgetful remembers to tell his wife about those stupid kids sitting in shit creek, and Blake and Allie are here within thirty minutes,” she said.

  “I bet Henrietta gets a dose of guilty conscience and calls them from the church. If you win, we’ll try this date again only at a nicer restaurant and somewhere that does not have a gully like this on the road going there. If you win.” He tapped his chin and grinned.

  “I will not go to bed with you if I win,” she said.

  “I wasn’t going to suggest that. You have to cook supper for me at Audrey’s Place.”

  She stuck out her hand and they shook on it.

  Ten minutes later they heard a vehicle on the road. Lizzy held her breath until it stopped and then a voice squealed. She looked up and saw Allie peering down over the edge of the road into the ditch.

  “Man, are we glad to see you,” Lizzy said.

  Blake’s face appeared next to Allie’s. “Are either of you hurt?”

  “We’ve got a couple of seat belt bruises that will be tender for a few days, but no broken bones or blood,” Toby answered.

  “That’s good. Allie was about to have a heart attack the whole way here,” Blake said. “I brought chains but there ain’t no way we’re going to get that up out of there without a winch and a tractor. We’ll get y’all out and then we’ll bring back what we need to get the truck home,” Blake said. “Reckon the best way to do this is to throw a chain down and then haul you up with the truck.”

  “Whatever you think,” Lizzy said.

  “Okay then. I’ll hook things up and Allie can ease the truck down the road while I help get y’all up over this mess. If you’d been a mile or two down the road, you would have been on flat land.”