Clean Romance: Loves of Tomorrow (Contemporary New Adult and College Amish Western Culture Romance) (Urban Power of Love Billionaire Western Collection Time Travel Short Stories)

by Unknown

  Feeling the pulse at her carotid artery and the sensation of Lizbeth’s breath on his ear as he pressed it to her mouth to hear if she was breathing, he knew that she was alive, but the way that her eyes were fixed at some point in the sky, staring unblinkingly into space she looked dead to the cowboy.

  Sensing that they were all running out of time to beat the approaching tornado back to shelter, he locked Lizbeth’s car, grabbed her camera, slinging it over his shoulder, and lifted Lizbeth onto his horse. Her body lying as limp as a rag doll over his horse, he galloped towards safety as fast as Lady could run, not wanting to leave the dog behind.

  As he approached the sight of buildings, Lizbeth began to stir. He slowed to a trot and helped her to sit upright on the horse. Still too disoriented to ask questions, Lizbeth looked up into the cowboy’s face for answers. He said, “There’s no time for introductions. I think you had a seizure, your dog found me and brought me to you. I’m taking you to a cellar on the ranch,” pointing to the sky he said, “because a tornado is heading this way.”

  Lizbeth was frightened. “Some strange man is riding me, on horseback, to a cellar on what I think may be the Coates ranch. I see

  a funnel cloud in the sky and feel the wind picking up. Lady seems tired but fine, so his story is checking out so far, but what if he keeps me trapped in his cellar for the next ten years? Nam-myoho-renge-kyo, Nam-myoho-renge-kyo, Nam-myoho-renge-kyo!” Lizbeth said to herself and to the universe, praying for a good outcome for herself and Lady.

  Arriving at what looked to be a small barn, the cowboy dismounted his horse then gently helped Lizbeth to dismount. “Good girl Lady,” Lizbeth said as she nuzzled Lady’s neck before they bravely followed the cowboy and his horse down a ramp and into a cement-lined basement beneath the barn.

  “I was just about to almost get worried about you Young-Buck,” said a grizzled voice, coming from one of the half-dozen men and women huddled in the basement. “I see you brought company,” he went on to say.

  The cowboy turned to Lizbeth and said, “We’re all about to get very friendly here in a minute under this table when the tornado touches down. So I guess this is as good a time as any for introductions. I’m Buck. The loud-mouthed old man over there is P.H. Coates, Jr., this is a family ranch and most of the folks who work here are blood family or guilty by association.

  “I’m Mavis, P.H.’s sister”, a handsome cowgirl in her 60s or 70s, spoke up and introduced herself, followed by a swirl of names that Lizbeth was still to discombobulated to remember.

  “Have you ever been close to a tornado before?” The cowboy asked Lizbeth, who shook her head no, as she clutched her dog, Lady, pulling her arm up to the elbow through the dog’s harness webbing to hold on to her during the storm. As the noise outside picked up and the storm cellar door began to rattle, Lizbeth heard the cowboy whisper in her ear, “you’re okay, I’m right here”, as he held her close with one hand and gripped a support beam with the other.

  The wind whipped and roared like a passing train just outside the cellar door. The three naked light-bulbs shook and flickered as a gust of air strong enough to shove the huddled group even closer together swept through the confines of the tiny, dimly lit room that smelled of soil and moisture. The sound of the train lasted for an eternity, Lizbeth thought, then the storm stopped, allowing the people in the room to breathe a collective sigh of relief.

  As the storm cellar occupants crawled out from under their table storm shelter, Lizbeth moved with lethargy. “Now that’s a fine how do you do!” Mavis said about the storm. The unfazed cellar occupants laughed, stretched and dusted themselves off. “You never did say your name,” Mavis said to Lizbeth.

  Lizbeth took a step toward Mavis out of the brace of Buck’s strong arms in order to introduce herself to Mavis properly, instead, she fell into the woman’s arms as the room began to spin.

  “Sugar, you okay?” Mavis asked as Buck held on to Lizbeth’s weak body. Lizbeth was both embarrassed by her weak and dazed state and impressed with the strength of the older woman Mavis.

  “I’m sorry,” Lizbeth said as Buck lifted her off her feet. “My name is Lizbeth Collins. I’m a Mayflower descendant. I’m also a freelance writer for Travel + Leisure magazine and a graduate of Harvard’s School of Journalism. I’m here to interview the owner of the Coates Ranch for a series of articles that I’m writing on the North American Cowboy”.

  Buck swung around and headed out of the cellar with Lizbeth in his arms, practically yelling in her face, “just your name’ll do, we don’t need to know your pedigree, it ain’t like you’re a heffer we’re fixin’ a buy.”

  Buck’s comments got another round of leg slaps and belly laughs from P.H, Mavis, and the rest of the cellar crowd. Even Lizbeth managed to laugh at herself, feeling foolish that she was insecure enough to offer these nice folks a resume instead of a proper greeting. “Well nice to meet you, Elizabeth.” Mavis said.

  “Nice to meet you Mavis, but my name is just Liz-Beth, no e,” Lizbeth yelled over Buck’s shoulder.

  “Come on, let’s get you looked at by a doctor,” Buck said, as he walked out into the sunlight with Lizbeth in his arms, her head resting on his chest, which looked like two Christmas hats under his shirt.

  The cowboy—Buck continued as he walked up the cellar ramp, with the rest of the group following behind, curious about the strange young woman he found. “This here dog came up and found me and brought me back to Ms. Elizabeth. I think she had a seizure when she stopped to take photos, and the she hit her head on a rock when she fell. She was still out cold when we found her.” Lizbeth was nodding in agreement at Buck’s recounting of the day’s events.

  “You don’t say sweetie!” As Mavis gently rubbed Lizbeth’s back. “Well, you get her on up to the main house Buck and make sure she stays awake until Doc Smith can get around to look at her head. With this storm, he might be here after a while, but he’ll come. I’ll give him a call directly.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Buck responded, gently helping Lizbeth back onto his horse. “This is Alban, Ms. Elizabeth. I figure y’all should meet since you’re riding him.”

  Lizbeth bent forward and stroked Alban’s white main and gave him a kiss saying, “thank you for rescuing me Alban.” Then looking up at the handsome Buck Lizbeth sheepishly said, “thank you too for rescuing me Buck.” As Lizbeth gave him a gentle peck on the cheek.

  Buck blushed, tipped his hat to Lizbeth and said, “It wasn’t anything any man wouldn’t do.”

  Giving Alban two gentle tugs on the reins and yelling, “come on Lady-girl.” Lizbeth sank into Buck’s strong but gentle grip around her waist as Alban trotted up to the beautiful, sprawling, two-story white house on the hill.

  Buck showed Lizbeth to a guest room saying, “Now, you lay still but don’t fall asleep or Mavis will tan my hide, Ms. Elizabeth.”

  “You don’t have to call me Miss, just Lizbeth.”

  “Okay, Elizabeth it is then. So you’re here to interview Steve Coates? Well, Steve and P.H. are two different animals but he’s a real cowboy alright.” Buck continued, “Do you think people really care about the life of a cowboy?” Obviously, a rhetorical question because he went on to say, “They don’t want to know where their food comes from, how it got to their local store or restaurant. They’re not even interested in the people who work hard in all types of weather conditions to get it there. They just want their steak or hamburger hot and fast. So why write about cowboys, they’re simple folk, not celebrities,” Buck said.

  “Well, that’s the point—ouch!” Lizbeth said, becoming animated and excited by Buck’s words and sitting up suddenly in the bed, causing a sharp pain in her head.

  “Simmer down Elizabeth, we’re just talking to pass away the time. You’ve got a little fight in you for such a tiny woman.” Buck said with a half grin, and looking almost admiringly at Lizbeth, causing her to blush a bit.

  “Sorry, I’m just passionate about this project Buck. What you said about peop
le not caring about the process or the people that get their food to the stores and onto their tables is the point. We spend more time as a society obsessing about Quarterback Cam Newton’s zebra striped and yellow swirled skinny, rocker pants than we do the hard work and dedication of the cowboys and other ranch staff that raise the cows that we eat for dinner. They don’t respect the history and traditions and all of the skills that go into being a cowboy, and frankly most Americans think cowboys in the 21st Century are just rodeo entertainers and movie characters. I want to show the real modern cowboy and ranch life to our national and international readers. If I do my job right cowboys like you and P.H. will earn the respect that you deserve and ranches will get more of the tourists that they are coming to depend on for survival, beyond making a living on just farming and cattle raising.” Lizbeth said with passion and conviction.

  “Well, there is a little substance to you after all Harvard,” Buck said with a wide grin. “Well, I don’t know if it will help but I’ll put in a good word for you with P.H. With any luck, he’ll agree to let you interview him.”

  “Oh, I hope to do more than that. I would love to follow him around and watch P.H. and the rest of the ranch do its work. I would love to spend a week or two getting inside the head of an authentic West Texas cowboy,” Lizbeth said excitedly.

  “Inside of P.H.’s head might not be as interesting as you think, and a sight scarier than you care to know.” Buck said with a hearty laugh, causing Lizbeth to laugh too, which only made her head throb more.

  “Be straight with me. You seem like a pretty strong woman and I’m sure you’ve had seizures before, but you took a pretty hard whack on the head when you fell and Lady had to run at least 10-minutes even if she caught my scent and ran directly to me. That means you were unconscious around 25-minutes or so, give or take, either from the knock on the head or the seizure, or both.” Laying a gentle hand on her shoulder, and lightly moving her hair away from her face to uncover her wound, Buck said, “I’d feel a lot better if we took you to the hospital to get looked at. Would you do that for me?”

  Staring into her eyes with all of the care and sincerity that Buck displayed, Lizbeth thought to herself, “I’d do just about anything you asked right now,” but thought better of it and responded by saying, “Sure I’ll go to the hospital to get examined Buck.”

  “Good, wait right her,” Buck said as he stood up and left the room. Lizbeth’s head was reeling. She was totally falling for this cowboy—ranch hand. “Don’t do it, Lizbeth,” she told herself. “You’re only here for a story then you’re going back to your home on the East coast, never to see any of these people again. So don’t go falling for this Buck person. What kind of a name is Buck anyway?” Lizbeth thought to herself as Buck’s tall frame darkened the guestroom door.

  Buck was carrying bowls of food and water for Lady, and a bottle of water tucked under his arm for Lizbeth. Lady’s head perked up when she smelled the food, but following her training, she did not approach the bowl until given the command to eat. “What’s wrong girl, are you worried about your mama? This is for you, Buck said rubbing the top of Lady’s head as laid there looking at the delicious meal.

  “She’s waiting for the command,” Lizbeth said. “Lady, eat!” Lizbeth instructed softly. At the command, Lady jumped up and quickly devoured the food and the entire bowl of water, then ambled over to Buck and licked the hand dangling freely at his left side.

  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.