by R. Casteel
“I’ll have the Texas Burger, fries and a cup of coffee, black.” If the food was as good as the show she was putting on, he was in for a gourmet meal.
She smiled. “One moment and I’ll be back with the coffee.”
The waitress was a beautiful woman, but he only had one on his mind. And it wasn’t the one behind the counter.
She came back and set his coffee down close to the back edge of the counter but then she just stood there with one big breast shading his cup. Charles looked up. “Any thing else I can get for you?”
She might as well have added, rich city boy.
When he didn’t say anything but shook his head she acted like she had been insulted, and walked away giving her full hips a little more swing.
Charles had a feeling it was just an act. He had taken his first swallow of coffee when the door opened and the waitress hollered,
“Merry Christmas, Doc.”
He turned his head and choked on his coffee. It had suddenly gone bitter in his mouth. The stool beside him was the only empty seat in the house.
“Merry Christmas Billy Joe,” Doc said as he sat down.
Charles sat there and waited. Yeah, it was all an act. Billy Joe came over and went through the same routine all over again. One thing about the Doc, he could really pour on the charm.
Billy Joe brought Doc’s coffee and set it on the counter.
“Have a sudden case of frost bite?” Doc sipped the steaming liquid. “Feet can get real cold without a good pair of boots.”
There was nothing wrong with his boots, and the Doc knew it.
“Thought it was you when ole man Watkins called and said some city boy, driving a fancy sports car was asking directions to the ranch. Figured you would be by, just didn’t know when.” He paused and took a sip of coffee. “Why stop here?” Ron turned his head sideways and waited for the answer. .
Charles took another swallow. “There’s nothing wrong with my boots, but yeah.” Might as well be honest, Ron has me pegged. “I was getting cold feet.”
The front door exploded open and a young girl rushed in, ran over to Ron almost shouting, “She had it, she had it, I can’t wait to see him! Can I go? Please? Daddy Oh pretty please! David will take me he said he would.”
“Hold on sport, who had what, and where is David taking you?”
“Cyn just called, Star Dust had her colt, it’s fine, Star Dust is fine, the colt is already up and walking, I’ve just got to see it, please Daddy may I go?”
“Doc looked at Charles and grinned, “Charles I would like to introduce you to my daughter Linda. I’m afraid when she’s excited, she has the tendency to run her sentences together.”
“Linda, I would like you to meet Charles Randall.”
Linda looked at him. “You’re the one who saved Aunt Cynthia, aren’t you?” Without waiting for a reply, she threw her arms around his neck and gave his cheek a big kiss. “Thank you. I don’t know what I would do without Cyn.”
“Can I go see the colt? Please?” she begged, turning back to her Dad with big pleading eyes.
Doc gave her a kiss on the head, “Okay, but don’t get in the way.”
With Doc’s permission, she was gone. The door slammed shut behind one very happy and excited girl.
Doc was laughing, as well as several others in the café, when he turned back to Charles.
“Cyn,” he said, “or Cynthia as you know her, promised her Star Dust’s colt when it was born. The only thing that has taken her mind off the colt was Cynthia’s disappearance after her near tragic marriage to that bum. I suspect that the delivery was difficult or else Linda would have been there for it.”
Charles must have had a questioning look cause he said, “Cyn has an Associates Degree in Veterinary Medicine. She takes care of the horses at the ranch, only calling the vet when there’s something she can’t handle. She’s also the trainer for our quarter horses.” He chuckled,
“The only other time she’s had a broken arm was when she was younger, just learning to ride. Got bucked off and landed on the very same arm you set. By the way you did a hell of a job on that arm, couldn’t have done better myself.”
Doc took a sip of his coffee. “After her arm healed she climbed right back on the same horse. She hasn’t been bucked off too many times since then. When she has, she’s always landed on her feet. That is until this last ride.”
As Doc looked at him with narrowed eyes, Charles realized the Doc wasn’t talking about a four-legged animal, or the bum she had almost married. He was talking about one Charles Randall. His food arrived.
“Enjoy.” She smiled, and walked away in her skintight shorts and bouncing breasts, to serve someone else. Whether they would admit it or not every man was watching her, and she knew it.
The Texas Burger was big, the fries hot and golden but he had lost his appetite with the last statement Ron had made. Charles wished he had clarified it a little more, but he hadn’t, and didn’t appear about to do so. His order arrived and he started eating.
Doc finished eating. “Well, I got to get back to the office. Sitting here isn’t going to solve your problems. Either go out to the ranch, or go home. Whichever you decide, I want to thank you again for saving her life.”
Charles finished the meal and got another cup of coffee from Billy Jo. Yeah, he was stalling. His mind went on replay as he drank his coffee.
He thought about the long years of isolation on the mountain. The loneliness, which he kept at bay by working all day and into the night, raised its ugly head and stared him in the face.
He refused another refill and went to the bathroom. He looked into the mirror. Face it you’re scared to death. He hadn’t been this scared since his first time a hundred feet in the air on a six inch steel beam.
All he knew for sure was, without Cynthia, there would be no reason to ever go back to the mountains. She would always be there, standing in front of the glass wall, sitting in the hot tub or in the kitchen with only a towel wrapped her loveliness. In three days, she had brought more love and laughter into that house than there had been in five years. Charles could never again sleep in that bed without remembering what she had given him. On that bed, she had changed into a passionate woman. Together they had reached the stars.
Charles went to pay for his meal.
“Doc Petterson paid your bill.” Billy Joe smiled up at him. “Ya’all come back now, Ya’hear?”
With a sexy wink and a quick twirl, she headed off to wait on another customer.
Chapter 7
Cynthia may have had a fresh shower and clean clothes, but she didn’t feel any better.
The last few hours had been touch-and-go with Star Dust. The vet had passed through on his way over to a neighbor’s ranch to tend to a prize bull that was down. With her arm in a cast, Dad had stayed to help and she was glad he had.
Cynthia had noticed the change in Star Dust when she went into the first stage of labor. She had become restless, moving around more in the foaling pen. The mare’s teats had begun waxing. Star Dust would lie down and get up and she was sweating. She just didn’t seem to want to on go to the next stage.
Cynthia watched from the sidelines for hours. Howard or David would bring her coffee, always making sure they came in unobserved and quiet.
Her water broke finally, and the second stage of labor started. Star Dust was finally lying down. Cynthia could see the mare had started vigorous abdominal pressing to supplement her contractions.
So far so good Cynthia thought. Everything is progressing nicely.
The foal’s head started to appear and then a leg and shoulder. The other shoulder was clear when Star Dust quit. Her contractions stopped and she just laid her head down and everything stopped.
Cynthia moved into the stall and carefully approached. She grasped the foal’s legs above the fetlock and slowly pulled. Nothing. Cynthia looked over her shoulder at her Dad and nodded.
Howard Sr. came in beside Cynthia; together they tried
to restart the mare’s contractions by pulling on the foal. Star Dust was just too tired. They tried again, this time applying stronger traction on the foal. Father and daughter looked at one another.
She saw the resignation in his face. “Yeah.”
Howard went to get the pulley.
Cynthia knew this was the only way the foal would survive. Very carefully, she strapped the webbing around the foal’s legs above the fetlocks.
Howard secured the other end of the pulley to a stanchion. With a soft “Okay” from Cynthia, he began to increase pressure. Slowly the foal started to move, inch by agonizing inch.
Finally, the foal was free of the mare. Cynthia tore the amnion from the foal’s head.
Cynthia and her Dad stepped back and watched. Star Dust was breathing easier, resting. The foal had rolled over and was breathing ok. After several minutes, the foal moved around trying to stand on shaky legs and broke the umbilical cord. Another half an hour had gone by. Star Dust was on her feet and the foal was nuzzling her for milk.
Cynthia looked up at her Dad with tears in her eyes. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. They walked up to the house, tired but happy.
While helping Star Dust, her mind had been too busy to think about Charles. He had been invading her dreams nightly. She couldn’t close her eyes without seeing his strong muscular body or the intense desire in his eyes.
She had gone to her room and cried when the roses came. When she opened the card, there was only one word, Charles. Those roses affected her more than any other flowers. Cynthia didn’t know if they were, “Thanks for a good time. Hope you’re okay.” Or as she hoped, “Miss you terribly, all my love, Charles.”
A truck was pulling in. David had gone to get Linda.
She had wanted to be here for the birth. Seeing that there had been complications, Cynthia was glad she hadn’t called earlier. She went down to meet them and Linda came bolting out of the truck like it was on fire. At that age why walk when you can run. As they headed for the birthing barn Cynthia had to settle Linda down. Her excitement and exuberant joy might panic Rising Star, injuring the colt.
Dad shook his head. “Sort of reminds me of you at that age,” he said with a laugh.
She stuck her tongue out at him and continued into the barn with Linda, but yeah, come to think on it she had been the same way at her age.
Howard Jr. was in the barn and wearing a big smile. “Congratulations on a job well done.”
He wrapped his arms around Linda. “Well sport, there he is. What do you think of him?”
“Oh! Uncle Howard, he’s the prettiest colt I’ve ever seen.” Her smile radiated joy like the sunlight. She looked up at Cynthia with big brown eyes, misted over with the unshed tears of happiness.
“Thank you Cyn.” Throwing her arms around her, Linda gave her a hug.
They were watching the colt trying out his still shaky legs, nuzzle milk and generally discover this new world he was in when Linda spoke up.
“Uncle Howard, guess who I saw in town?”
“I don’t know sport,” he replied. “Who?”
“Charles Randall.”
“Charles is here? In Rising Star?” A combination of panic and joy gripped Cynthia’s heart. She looked down at the clothes she was wearing. Old boots that were turned down at the heel, blue jeans, and an old shirt that had seen better days. They were clean, but not what she wanted Charles to see her in when he arrived.
She started running for the house.
There was nowhere to hide. She was out in the middle of the yard and coming up the drive was a red Chevy Corvette.
A large two story white farmhouse that would’ve fit into an early nineteen hundreds plantation picture of the old South stood at the end of the road. It had a wide porch all around the first floor, large windows and double doors that when opened could let the breeze in on a hot summers night. Giant oak trees surrounded the house providing plenty of shade.
Behind and to the left of the house were several barns and sheds, ranging in various sizes all painted dark red. All the board fences were painted white. Absolutely nothing looked out of place, or in need of repair. Off to the right, well behind the house, were several trailers. As there wasn’t an obvious bunkhouse, he figured the trailers were where the ranch hands and their families lived.
There were horses everywhere. Several of them were in separate corrals by themselves. As he got closer, he noticed that those were the stallions, beautiful magnificent creatures with their heads held high. One in particular seemed to be challenging him to a race. He was as black as midnight with a coat that glistened. He ran flat out, head high, tail straight out in the wind. His very stance and stride seemed to be saying, ‘Come on, can’t that thing go any faster.’
That’s when he saw her, standing in the middle of the yard, looking like a cornered rabbit with no place to run.
Charles stopped the car a few feet from her and got out. For what seemed like ages, they just stood there looking at one another. Then he opened his arms. “I missed you.”
A smile radiated from her face as she ran, throwing herself into his arms. Even a woman wearing an evening dress couldn’t have looked better than she did in her work clothes.
As they held each other in the middle of the yard and tried to make up for the weeks of missed kisses, he noticed there were several people standing on the porch and around the barn door. Well the cat was definitely out of the bag, but judging by the expressions on everyone’s face, he didn’t have to worry about trying to put it back in.
He didn’t have to worry about using his insurance either, unless they wanted to get him on one of their horses. He might be Texas born and bred, but the only horses he had ever ridden as a kid were sawhorses.
Charles felt a tap on the shoulder, “Excuse me,” a voice said, “but that happens to be my kid sister you’re manhandling out here in broad daylight.”
“Bear, this lovely lady might be your sister, but in case you haven’t noticed, she’s not a kid anymore.”
David slapped him on the back, “No she isn’t, not since she got lost in a snow storm. Welcome to the Petterson Ranch, let’s go in. The rest of the family is here.”
The whole clan was there for Christmas. There were so many faces it would take a while to sort them all out.
David made the introductions, “Charles you know my dad, Howard Sr. and my mother Carol. They’re living on the other side of the small lake you passed driving in.
“Howard Jr. and his wife Sherry Lee along with their four children: David, age eighteen; Elizabeth and Suzan, age fifteen; and Robert age ten.
“My wife Debbie, and our children David Alan and Sharon Marie, age ten and Richard age four.
“Linda, who I think you met in town is Ron’s daughter.”
About this time, Ron showed up, everyone was accounted for.
Cynthia—Charles couldn’t think of her as Cyn, that was a little girl’s name—handed him a beer.
Coors original, they not only knew horses, they knew their beer too. Charles hadn’t realized he was thirsty until then. He looked at her and she smiled. Lord have mercy, what that smile did to him. He had to cross his legs so no one would notice his arousal. He just hoped no one wanted him to go see the horses.
Conversation flowed easily around the living room.
“I was a nurse in the Navy when I met David,” Debbie stated. “When I got pregnant with the twins I resigned. Now I work at a local Natural Child Birth Clinic, in Virginia where David is stationed. It keeps me busy when David’s out to sea.”
Charles didn’t say any thing, but if three children didn’t keep her busy, especially four-year-old Richard, more power to her.
David spoke up, “As soon as my leave is up the ship is headed back to sea. We will be out for Sea Trails and Flight Qualification for the pilots going on the cruise. Then in February we’re headed back to the Mediterranean.”
“The rest of the family,” Howard explained, “with the exception
of Ron and his daughter Linda, all work here on the ranch. We raise quarter horses. The ranch is small by Texas standards, only about a thousands acres. But it still requires that everyone pitch in.”
“Elizabeth and Suzan are quite the accomplished riders. Cynthia won top honors in the state when she was nineteen,” her Dad announced with pride. “She could have gone on further but decided to go to school. She sure has saved the ranch a bundle in vet bills.”
Charles looked around the room at the wives, Carol, Sherry Lee and Debbie. All three of these women had courage, strength. They were loving, caring individuals and he could see those same qualities in Cynthia.
Charles looked over at Ron, and wondered what went wrong. He had a charming daughter who loved him, and the town’s people obviously admired and respected him. Where was his wife?
Ronald looked up and they locked eyes. Charles had the strangest feeling that Ron was reading his mind.
Ronald motioned him to step outside on the porch. There was a chill in the air so they grabbed jackets on the way out.
“I suppose with all this happy family atmosphere we have here you’re wondering what happened to mine,” Doc asked while taking out a cigarette and lighting it.
“I read faces, not minds, although at times it amounts to the same thing,” Ron said with a smile.
“I met Diana while I was in med school; she was a pretty thing, full of life and liked to live life on the edge. She got pregnant with Linda and we got married.” He paused and took a long drag off the cigarette slowly exhaling. “After school and my residency in Houston we moved back here.
“The old doc in Rising Star wanted to retire so I took over. Things went downhill from there on. I had been offered a good paying position in a private firm in Houston, one that would have brought a fair amount of prestige and recognition.
“Diana wanted the bright lights, theaters, and the opportunity to travel and see the world. She didn’t want to be stuck in a small town, or as I found out later, to be a mother.
“One day she just packed up and left. A couple weeks later I received the divorce papers in the mail.” Doc stopped speaking for a moment looking pensively at the burning cigarette in his hand.