[2016] What the Heart Wants
Page 21
Buck knelt down to talk with Lady. “Why thank you pretty-Lady, but if it’s alright with you I’d like to take your mama to the hospital. You stay here and rest, you’ve worked hard today. I promise to take good care of your mama darlin’.”
Lady starring into Buck’s eyes the way that she does when she’s paying attention to humans as they prattle on. She gleaned a few words in her vocabulary out of Buck’s speech and gave her response by licking Buck’s hand, kissing Lizbeth’s hand, and then walking over to her corner under the window to await her handler’s return.
“I’ll be back Lady,” Lizbeth said and gave the reassuring command that Lady’s used to hearing when she’s being left behind.
Buck sprang into action by swooping Lizbeth up off her feet. “Woe cowboy, I can walk you know!” Lizbeth said.
“I know,” Buck replied, “but I’m not letting anything happen to you until the doc checks you out, or Mavis will ---”
“Tan your hide, yes I know.” Lizbeth laughed, finishing Buck’s sentence. Lizbeth laid back into Buck’s arms, head resting softly on his chest and thinking, “a girl could definitely get used to this.”
Lizbeth was happy to see that her rental car was only a little dinged by hail, but basically in good shape, and parked in the circular driveway in front of the big house. Buck placed her gently into the cab of a Ford dually pickup truck and drove the 20-miles to the local hospital, engaging Lizbeth in conversation about anything and everything along the way. Lizbeth was fighting to stay awake as the gentle motion of the truck attempted to lull her to sleep.
*****
Buck found a wheelchair in the emergency room lobby and wheeled Lizbeth to the check-in station. Lizbeth had the presence of mind to have Buck grab her purse from her rental, thinking that she might need identification and proof of insurance. Buck waited patiently in the waiting room while Lizbeth endured an MRI and EEG, but he joined her in her room to wait for the results.
“Well Ms. Collins, your EEG is normal for what we expect to see from someone who experiences seizures and migraines, and your MRI looks good too, but I’d like to keep you overnight for observation.”
“Is that really necessary?” Lizbeth asked.
“Well I’d certainly feel more comfortable if you did stay. With the Coates ranch being outside of town, I’d certainly sleep better knowing that you were not so far away from medical care if you need it. Although I don’t expect that you will have any problems, it’s just better to be on the cautious side. Besides, if something happens to a Coates ranch guest Mavis will kill me,” The doctor said with a healthy chuckle.
“Is there anyone in this town who’s not afraid of Mavis Coates?” Lizbeth asked.
“No!” Buck and the doctor said in unison.
Lizbeth laughed and said, “Okay doctor, thank you.” The doctor gave Lizbeth a “it was nothing”, wave of the hand, said good night to Buck, and left the room.
“I hate that everyone’s so inconvenienced by me. How bad do these stitches look Buck? Do I resemble the bride of Frankenstein?” Lizbeth asked as she looked at her head in her compact mirror.
“I think you look right nice Harvard. Cowboys like scars, they add character.” Lizbeth couldn’t stop the schoolgirl blush from rising to her cheeks. Buck responded with a blush of his own.
Lizbeth broke the awkward silence by saying, “Thank you for everything Buck, you have gone way beyond what anyone could expect and I appreciate you for it, truly. I’m just going to take a shower and go to sleep so you can take off now.”
“Nope, I’m fine right here.” Buck said as he sat in the reclining chair next to Lizbeth’s bed, took of his and placed it over his face, with Legs and arms crossed. Buck looked as if he planned to stay the night in the hospital too. Realizing that she would lose any argument she tried to offer, Lizbeth walked to the showers as if marching towards the gallows, dreading having to emerge from the bathroom in hospital garb in front of Buck.
After a long hot shower, Lizbeth exited the bathroom in her hospital gown and crawled into bed in the darkened room. Buck didn’t stir. She could tell by his breathing that he was likely fast asleep.
Feeling more at ease and without an audience, Lizbeth pulled out her Juzu beads and portable Gohonzon, (Nichiren Buddhist Mandala) and slipped back into the bathroom for her evening Daimoku (prayer). Injured or not, she needed to recharge her life-force, renew her commitment to sobriety, and thank the universe for its protection today.
“Lick, lick, lick, lick” was the sound that Lizbeth heard in her sleep. The soft light from the bright hallway illuminated her room. “I’m not dreaming about Lady, she’s actually here.” Lizbeth thought to herself. “How did you get here girl?” Lady didn’t answer, she only continued to excitedly lick Lizbeth’s face, tail wagging with joy.
“I thought she might be lonesome for you and you’d need some clean clothes for the morning so I had a ranch hand bring Lady and your suitcase, I hope you don’t mind,” Buck said.
“Where did you come from and do you have a brother? Lizbeth questioned rhetorically. “Are all of the men in Texas this thoughtful? Lizbeth asked.
“I don’t know about that, but when you work on a ranch all you have is the people around you or sometimes just yourself and your horse, if you’re lucky maybe a good dog like Lady, so you have to take care of each other. I grew up on the Coates ranch and I’ve worked there my whole life so I guess it’s just part of who I am to take care of people, kind of like the way that we do on the ranch.”
“I’m so happy to see Lady and to have clean clothes Buck thank you.” Lizbeth felt something on this day with Buck that she had never experienced in all her life. She felt safe and protected. For a brief moment in time she would cherish this feeling, even if it did only last for a single day in her life.
Buck and Lizbeth talked throughout the rest of the night before returning to the ranch the following morning. On the ride back Lizbeth couldn’t help feeling a little sad that her time with Buck was coming to an end since she was at the ranch to interview the absent Steven, but now was committed to interviewing P.H. for her story. Her heart wanted to remain in Buck’s presence for as long as she could.
*****
Arriving at the ranch, Lizbeth said her goodbyes to Buck and found P.H. mending a fence. Lizbeth, Lady, and a ranch hand who said he was twenty-three, but looked to be no more than nineteen-years-old, road by horseback for nearly fifteen minutes before reaching the area of the ranch where P.H. was working that day. Lady enjoyed racing behind the horses and Lizbeth loved watching her try to keep up. With her tongue extended and completely hanging out of her mouth. Lady looked to have a permanent smile plastered on her face because she loves to run off lead.
“Well I’ll be! Ms. Lizbeth you can ride a horse. How did a fancy city girl like you learn to ride?” P.H. asked.
“Summer camp! But I don’t know how fancy I am P.H. I’m just a kid from Brooklyn, but I want to hear about you. Tell me about your family’s beautiful ranch, and please, call me Lizbeth.”
“Well Lizbeth, my father Pollard Hickman and my mother Sicily Jayroe Coates were herding cattle West to Guadalupe, New Mexico, when they stopped at a lake about a mile and a half outside of what today is the City of Big Lake, Texas. My mama told my daddy that they had ‘found the promised land’”, P.H. said with a laugh and a clap of his hands, “and they settled this here 30,000-acre ranch among the flat lands and hilly terrain of West Texas. It’s been in the family all these years.”
“Your mother must have been quite a lady, P.H. What does P.H. stand for by the way?” Lizbeth asked.
“Pollard Hickman, Junior, or P.H. for short ma’am,” he said with a tip of his white Resistol, and a modest gentlemen’s bow. “Yes, my maw was an impressive woman, she had strong features but as sweet and tough as the day was long. A lot like my sister Mavis. She’d love you like there was no tomorrow, but she put the fear of God in you too. My maw and paw had twelve children, it takes a lot of hands to run
a ranch this size, I suppose they thought they’d breed their own cow hands and farmers,” P.H. said with a grin that reminded her of Buck. Could they be related Lizbeth wondered, but was too polite to ask.
P.H. continued saying, “You’ll like this, my oldest sister, Dee Coates Pedrick was a writer too.”
“Really?” Lizbeth asked with interest.
“Um-hm, she wrote about how much our mother loved this land and the history of the Coates ranch—settled in 1880.”
“You don’t say!” Exclaimed Lizbeth, trying out her Western idioms.
“Sho-nuff, it’s in the record books as 1880.”
“Tell me about your herd of cattle,” Lizbeth said.
“Well, my daddy and I ran lots of sheep and different kinds of cattle but the natural predators, wolves and the like, put us out of the sheep business. Then my brother-in-law J.A. Queen, started building a registered Hereford herd, and in 1957 when I took over the ranch I bought the Hereford herd from J.A. and we’ve been a Hereford ranch ever since.”
“So what’s so special about the Hereford brand of cattle?” Lizbeth asked with interest as she feverishly took notes in a small notebook with a video camera on a tripod recording P.H. as he talked, hammer swinging as he gestured. Deck screws and cuss words falling out of his mouth at will.
Lizbeth forgot all about Buck and was thoroughly enjoying the company of P.H. She felt as though she were at her grandfather’s knee as P.H. recounted the family history.
Her imaginary grandfather that is, who was perfect in every way, not her drunken real grandfather that was always a little too friendly toward her friends when he was in his cups.
Lizbeth allowed herself to feel a part of the Coates Ranch’s long history. Partly because it brings her closer to the story, but mostly because she was longing for something that she never had—a sense of family where the adults were in charge and the children were loved and cared for, not the other way around, the way that it was for her growing up.
P.H. responded by saying, “Let’s ride.” The pair climb onto their horses and trotted across the vast open space, laughing and talking all the while until they came upon twenty or so head of cattle. Those regal, auburn and white specimens grazing in the pasture are enormous and spectacular Lizbeth thought.
“This is a good place to eat lunch, let’s get down wind of the herd under that tree over yonder and sit a spell,” P.H. suggested.
“Sounds good to me,” Lizbeth answered, as they dismounted and walked the horses over to the tree, where they grazed while Lizbeth and P.H. had a picnic lunch.
The pair feasted on fried chicken, cut fresh vegetables, and homemade rolls, then washed it down with spring water, Lizbeth felt like a kid again, and was grateful that she didn’t have to eat beef in the presence of their kin grazing in the field.
She watched the large, wrinkled and calloused hands of the elder cowboy, but marveled at how lively and limber he was. It must come from a life of constant motion, bending, squatting, reaching, lifting, walking and riding that has kept his joints and ligaments loose and with a full range of motion at his age. She could see that he’s broken a few fingers and that perhaps he moves slower than he used to, but Lizbeth sent a silent prayer up to the universe that she could be this full of life and vigor when she reached his age.
P.H. continued to educate Lizbeth on the Hereford cattle, “Herefordshire, one of England’s historic counties, is where several types of cattle were bred together to create the modern Hereford, a specimen of animal with the characteristics of hardiness, early maturity, good fertility and could sustain the swift and efficient conversion of grass into read meat. Herefords were first introduced in Ireland in 1775 where they perfected the breeding process to give us the superior breed that we have today. These cattle are the perfect specimen for today’s sustainable herd management practices that ranches like ours practice today.” P.H. said, there was a distinct twinkle in his eye as he talked about his craft.
“Why do you raise Irish Herefords instead of cattle from the original source in Herefordshire?” Lizbeth asked.
“Ha! I’m glad you asked.” P.H. said with excitement. “You can’t get a better animal more sustainable meat production.”
Looking out over the herd of beautiful animals Lizbeth had a hard time thinking of them as meat.
P.H. began to innumerate all of the positive qualities of the Hereford cow. “Why they’re more docile, have a shorter gestation period, saving time and money, they can thrive in heat, drought, or nearly any conditions if you’re vigilant about caring for them, they have a lower mortality rate, I’m telling you, if you’re going to be a rancher, this is the cattle to do it with,” P.H. said with excitement.
P.H. packed up their lunch gear and he spent the rest of the afternoon showing Lizbeth how to mend fences and talking more about his family history. It was late in the evening when they arrived at the big house and the smell of grilled beef wafted in the air.
A warn out Lady received hugs and rubs from equally as tired, hard working men, women and children at the ranch. It felt like a Saturday afternoon barbeque to Lizbeth, but at the Coates Ranch it was a regular Monday night dinner. Lizbeth tried to enjoy herself, but she couldn’t help scanning the crowd of people inside the house and outside near the barbeque pit for any signs of the handsome cowboy Buck.
Lizbeth sat down at the table and began talking to a young woman seated to her left. She’s a Coates cousin and a veterinarian at the ranch. Lizbeth was fascinated with her passion for the animals and the ranch way of life. Lizbeth’s head was deep into her notepad as she busily jotted down details when a voice invaded her thoughts.
“How was your first day on the ranch Harvard?” Buck said as he sat down across the table from Lizbeth.
“My day was great Young-Buck, how was your day?” Lizbeth said with the feisty sarcasm of a New Yorker. Being call Young-Buck at his age and by a woman garnered some giggles from the Coates clan. They seemed to like the playful banter between Buck and their guest.
Dinner was a raucous event filled with stories and laughter around a table that sat upwards of thirty people. Lizbeth felt like a Dane in King Hrothgar’s mead-hall, but without the evil Grendel plotting an attack, only boisterous men and women enjoying the night. Lizbeth helped the women clear the evenings leftovers and dishes until Buck walked up behind her and whispered, “Ms. Elizabeth would you go walking with me tonight?”
Lizbeth laughed, at his antiquated pickup line, then said, “I’ll meet you on the back porch when I’ve finished my chores.” She then walked away from Buck, with a little extra wiggle in her hips. Buck blushed as he watched her leave, then went out to the porch to wait on his date.
Lizbeth volunteered to help out in the kitchen, for research she said, but really it was to make Buck wait, and wait he did. “You sure know how to make a man wait Elizabeth, I hope this walk is worth the trouble,” Buck said in a low and deliberate voice.
Lizbeth, stopped in her tracks and turned walk back into the house without saying a word. Lady was close on her heels.
“Woe, woe, woe. don’t get angry, I was just kidding with you,” he said to Lizbeth, while pulling her back gently by the arm until she fell into his embrace where he held her close as he looked down into her upturned face. “It was only a few hours ago that you were holding on to me for life.” Lizbeth blushed but remained silent, holding his gaze. “Oh, so now you’re the strong silent type? You could have fooled me, the way that you talked my ear off yesterday.” With that Lizbeth lost it, she couldn’t hold back her laughter any longer until she and Buck were giggling like teenagers on the Coates’ back porch. “Let’s go walking, he said as he took her hand and they walked out of the manicured garden and onto the wild range. Lady and Buck’s dog, Scout playing chase as they ran ahead.
“Have you ever seen a sky this beautiful before Lizbeth?”
“So you knew that my name is Lizbeth all this time and you continually called me Elizabeth?” She asked.
/> “Yup,” Buck replied.
“You are a stinker”, Lizbeth said as she kicked dust at Buck.
“Hey, you keep that up and I’ll take you over my knee.” Buck warned.
“I’d like to see you try,” Lizbeth said, hands on hips and brimming with confidence.
“Okay, you asked for it,” Buck said as he charged at Lizbeth trying to catch her. Lizbeth danced around Buck with ease, ducking or jumping every time that he reached to grab for her, screaming and laughing for joy. They played at this game like children until Buck said, “Okay I give up. Your cat-like reflexes are no match for me woman.”
“I’m a triathlete,” Lizbeth said proudly. Then she took Buck’s hand and they walked in silence neither of them knowing what to say. Buck and Lizbeth continued like this for two-weeks. The entire ranch was a buzz with sideways looks, smirks and grins but no one, not even Mavis spoke of it directly and the Coates clan continued with life as usual.
“Thank you P.H. for allowing me to stay here at the ranch. I’m sorry that I didn’t have a chance to meet your son Steven since he’s the official owner of the ranch now, but maybe he’ll agree to a telephone interview. Thank you again for your hospitality and for the interview. Everyone has been so kind to me that I hate to leave.” Lizbeth said with tears in her eyes.
“So stay darling,” P.H. said as he held Lizbeth hands in his. She could feel the roughness of a life spent doing the hard work of cattle ranching and began to cry.
“Woe darlin’ I didn’t mean to make you cry. You know you are welcome to come back anytime. Don’t even call just show up at the door.” Buck said softly.
“Okay,” Lizbeth said through the choke of tears. “I’m sorry that I’m being so silly, it’s just that I really will miss you all.” Mavis came up and gave Lizbeth a hug, followed by a couple dozen other folks that she had come to know and love.