When Things Got Hot in Texas

by Lori Wilde

  He paused, staring straight ahead at the shiny black road. Heavier rain fell, plopping loudly on the SUV’s metal roof and hood. The wipers were at medium speed and just barely able to keep up with the volume of water. His tires splashed through puddles, throwing up water alongside the doors.

  Marti kept quiet. He knew she was waiting for him to go on, but this next part was hard to tell. He felt so much at blame.

  Finally, he sighed and plunged forward, hoping his voice wouldn’t crack. “So, Gina planned a party, a celebration for my match. She invited both families and all our friends. We were on top of the world. At the last minute, she decided she needed a few more bottles of champagne. I told her we had had plenty, but she was determined that this party would be a major success. She stopped on the way home from work to grab the bottles and…” He bit his lip before continuing. “It’s so crazy. It was a small store we’d been to a million times. Really nice older couple. She got her champagne and headed toward check out when some kids decided that night was the perfect night to rob the place.”

  “Oh dear Lord, Eli,” Marti whispered.

  He shook his head, not wanting to stop until he was finished. “One of the kids was in her class. He saw her and called her by name. The other kid said something about leaving no witnesses and shot Gina. Just shot her. A bullet through the heart. And she was gone.”

  Marti grabbed his hand and held on. “I don’t need to know more. That’s enough.”

  He glanced over and then back to the road. “Let me finish, okay?”

  “Okay, but only if you want to,” she said, her voice thick.

  “The kid from her class freaks and runs out. The other kids get nervous, and then they run too. The owners weren’t hurt. The kid from her class told his parents, who turned in the whole group. So many lives ruined that night.”

  The car was silent except for the swish of the wipers and the splash of tires rolling over wet pavement.

  “Holy hell, Eli. I don’t know what to say.”

  He shrugged. “There’s really nothing to say. It’s been seven years, and life does continue even when you don’t think you’ll live through the pain.”

  “I don’t know how you survived.”

  “One day at a time. Literally, I took it one day at a time. I got up, did what I had to do, and went to sleep. The next day, I did the same. I had my work. I did Doctors Without Borders and ended up in Afghanistan. That’ll make you appreciate living.”

  “I’m just stunned. And so impressed.”

  “Don’t be. I think the first time I went overseas at the end of my residency, I went hoping I would die. I’d be remembered as a brave doctor doing noble work.” His chuckle lacked any humor. “Instead, I found hundreds, no thousands, of people who were much worse off than I was. Losing my wife was tragic, but these people had also lost spouses, along with children and parents and homes. It helped me keep my perspective about life. I came home ready to do as much good as I could for my patients.”

  He pulled the SUV to a stop in front of the steps that led up to her porch. “Talking about my wife is a great date killer, isn’t it?” He smiled.

  “Hey, I’m the one who pushed. Come on in. We’ll have coffee, and I’ll tell you all about the time in high school where I took a dare to run my panties up the flagpole.”

  This time, when he chuckled, the sound was light and full of amusement. “That’s a story I want to hear. I have an umbrella in the rear seat if you want to wait for me to come around for you.”

  “Heck no. I’m not going to melt. I say it’s a mad dash for the porch and every man, or woman, for himself. Ready? One, two, three, go.” On go, she flung open her door, jumped out and ran. He did the same from his side.

  She splashed through the puddles, her laughter making his heart swell. Her feet made slapping sounds at as she bounded up her steps to the porch. He followed, loving the sound of her voice as it echoed off the porch ceiling.

  “I love the rain,” she said. “Love it, love it, love it. Nothing like huddling under blankets and listening to the pounding of rain on the roof.” She swung around to face him. “Don’t you?”

  Her smile pulled him like a magnet. Catching her around her waist, he pressed her against her door and swept his mouth over hers. Her lips were cold and wet from the rain, but when she parted them, his tongue was welcomed into her warm mouth. She moaned and pulled him tight, wrapping one leg around his calf. He pulled his mouth away long enough to change his angle, take a breath, and recapture hers in a deeper kiss that sent his insides spinning like a tornado.

  “Let’s go inside,” she said, leaving a chain of kisses across his cheek and up his neck. “Get out of these wet clothes. Maybe find some towels.”

  Before he could reply the sound of an ATV broke through the rain, and a voice from the yard called, “Marti.”

  Her leg dropped to the floor. She straightened and slid from under him. “Yeah. Pedro? Is that you?”

  Marti walked to edge of the porch. “What’s wrong?”

  “Princess Diana is in labor. Grisham says her foaling started about six or so but he said you’d want to know.”

  “Thanks. I’ll change clothes and be right down.”

  Pedro turned to leave, and then added, “And Calico’s delivering, too.”

  Marti laughed. “It’s her third time. She’s an old hand.”

  Pedro waved and zoomed back toward the barn.

  “Sorry, Eli but I’ve got to cut tonight short.” She leaned forward and kissed him, open-mouthed, hot and hungry. “And just when it was getting good,” she said, followed by a long sigh.

  She unlocked her door and stepped through, Eli following as though pulled by an invisible string. When she noticed him behind her she said, “Great.” Holding up both hands, shoes dangling off her fingers on the left and the right holding her purse, she added, “My hands are full. Can you unzip me? I need to change.” She turned her back to him.

  “Sure.” Feeling a little dazed, he reached for the six-inch zipper that started in the small of her back and cupped her heart-shaped ass to end just below. As he glided the slider down and the zipper teeth separated, the strings of a teeny black thong were exposed. Blood raced below his waist as his cock filled and strained against his zipper. He groaned. “You’re killing me.”

  Laughing, she hurried toward the staircase, climbing it two steps at a time. Her dress fell off her shoulders as she reached the top. She looked over her shoulder and winked. “Another night, maybe?”

  “Another night, definitely,” he called up the stairs as she disappeared from view.

  He shook his head while uttering, “Damn,” under his breath. Marti was so different from other women he’d dated in his life. She was like twirling a lit firecracker between your fingers. You kind of knew it was going to hurt when it exploded, but playing with it made your heart race with excitement.

  Heavy boots on the wooden steps had him refocusing to the present. Marti raced down the stairs, pausing to jump from the third one over the last two and landing with a loud thud. She was still tugging down her shirt when she landed.

  “Hey! You’re still here.” She grabbed his face and pulled him in for a kiss. “That’s all I’ve got time for,” she said with a chuckle.

  He followed her into the kitchen. “What can I do to help?”

  She lifted a rain slicker off a peg. “Nothing. We have to let nature take its course.” He opened his mouth to reply, but she added, “Yes, yes, I know. You’re a doctor. Sorry, Dr. Eli. You’re the wrong kind.”

  He rolled his eyes with a laugh.

  The rain, which had been steady, was now pounding the roof in sheets. Lightning lit up the kitchen, followed by a flickering of the lights. A boom of thunder shook the walls.

  “Is God usually this mad at Texas?” Eli asked.

  Marti howled. “No kidding. Nah. God loves Texas, haven’t you heard? We need this rain so bad that nobody’s going to complain.” She tossed the slicker over her head. �
�Want to hang around and watch a foal come into the world?”

  The idea intrigued and terrified him. Horses. No. But a baby horse? He could handle that.

  “Yeah, I think I would.”

  She tossed him the other slicker hanging on the wall. “Use Dad’s slicker. You’re already wet, but we’ll get drenched as soon as we step outside.” She eyed him and said, “I don’t think your shoe size is the same as his. Dad has huge feet, but if you want to wear his boots, you might be able to save those fancy shoes of yours.”

  Eli looked down at his two-thousand dollar Brooks Brothers loafers. “These might be beyond hope.”

  “Hope they weren’t expensive.”

  He shrugged. “Not too bad.” He smiled. “Totally worth tonight’s date.”

  “Aww. Aren’t you sweet? Want the boots?”

  “Don’t worry about it. I do have another pair of shoes in the car.”

  “Super. Let’s head out.” She grabbed his hand as she walked past. “I would suggest we walk down, but not tonight. We’re taking your SUV.”

  Once back in his vehicle, she said, “U-turn and go back toward the road. There’s a gravel path to the barn.” As he did as she instructed she said, “Sorry about all the water we’re getting in your car.”

  “It’s leather. It’ll survive.”

  He was more worried about him surviving Marti than his seats surviving a little water.

  Following in her instructions, he found the red barn, which was barely visible through the heavy downpour.

  “Park over there,” she said, pointing beside an older model green truck. “Grisham will be leaving, and I don’t want to block him in.”

  When the car stopped, she flung herself from the car and raced through the open barn door. He turned off the engine and reached behind his seat. One of his habits held over from residency was keeping a packed duffle in his backseat. Often he’d found himself needing a fresh set of scrubs because of blood or some other bodily fluid. Duffle bag in hand, he ran through the rain and into the barn, stopping short when he entered.

  Marti stood at the far end with a young man. A middle-age man leaned on a stall door. Between where he stood and the three of them were numerous stalls. Horses who obviously knew he didn’t like them glared from all of them. Yeah, he’d had this nightmare before, but this time, he wasn’t going to wake up.

  The main corridor was swept clean. The odor was mostly fresh straw lightly scented by horse flesh. The hallway lights were on at his end but off at the far end.

  He straightened and took a step. The horse to his right whinnied. He didn’t turn his head, but marched forward toward the threesome. As he neared, Marti said, “No, no. I’ll be fine. You go on home, Grisham, and be with your family. It’s after midnight. Tomorrow will come early enough. And you too, Pedro. Get some sleep. If I need help, I’ll call. I promise. Princess Diana would probably rather we all go away and let her do her job in peace.”

  The older man, Grisham, he assumed, removed his hat and scratched his head. “You’re the boss, but seriously, call me if there’s any problem at all. In fact, call Dr. Grayson first and then call me.”

  Marti smiled and patted the man on the shoulder. “Georgie Grayson’ll be my first call in the morning. I promise. Now, get home. Both of you.”

  Both men left, grumbling to each other as they did.

  “Now you,” she said to Eli.

  “Me? What about me?”

  “You need to get out of those wet clothes and shoes.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “I’m not sure I know you well enough for a free strip show.”

  She laughed and patted her jeans pocket. “I might have some one dollar bills around here.”

  He snorted.

  “Seriously,” she continued. “There should be some newspaper in the office to stuff into those shoes. Might help soak out the water.”

  He saluted, well aware that there wasn’t enough newspaper in the world to save his shoes. “Will do. Now, where’s the office?”

  The office was a small, dusty room with a desk, chair, and phone on the wall. It didn’t appear as though it was used for much, but he suspected that back when this old barn was built, this room had seen a lot of action. He did as instructed, stuffing his now-ruined shoes, and changed into jeans and a polo he had in the bag. Truthfully, the dry briefs were the most welcome change. Something about cold, wet undies made a man shrivel up.

  Marti snatched his wet clothes from his arms when he walked out. “I’ll just hang these up to dry.”

  That was fine, but he’d pretty much written off his tux along with his shoes.

  “Ready to meet Princess Diana?” Marti said.

  “Sure.” Not really. His heart shivered at the thought of getting near a full-grown horse, even one who’d be preoccupied with labor. Embarrassingly, his fingers twitched with a slight, nervous shake.

  After draping his wet tux over railings, she led him to the last stall, which was at least double the size of the rest. The upper portion of a Dutch door was open, providing a clear view of a white horse resting on her side, her breaths coming in pants and snorts.

  “You sure she’s in labor? I mean, shouldn’t she be grunting or something?”

  Marti snorted. “You’ve seen too many human drama queens deliver. Horses are pretty calm. Come on. We’ll go in.”

  He took an involuntary step back. “No, that’s okay. I wouldn’t want to bother her.”

  She looked at him, then at the horse, and nodded. “Fine. I’m going in to check on her. I’ll be back.”

  He stood in the open doorway and watched as Marti calmly approached the horse and squatted, resting her butt on her heels.

  “Hey girl,” she said quietly as she stroked the horse’s neck. “You’re doin’ great. Really great. I can’t wait to meet your baby. What a good mother you’re going to be.”

  The horse’s breathing slowed. Marti’s quiet reassurances seem to help calm the laboring mare. Princess Diana blew out a snort and lifted her head. Marti continued cooing and stroking. Finally, the mare settled into the straw. Marti rose and walked back to Eli.

  “I’d like to leave the door open so I can make sure she’s okay. This is her first one, and I want her to remain calm. Grab a couple of hay bales, and we can sit.” She gestured toward a stack of square bales across the aisle in another empty stall.

  “Sure.” He went over, grabbed the first bale, and reeled backwards.

  “Careful,” she warned. “Those might be a little heavy. Hold on, I’ll come help.”

  “No, no,” he grunted out. “I’ve got it.”

  He staggered back to Princess Diana’s stall and dropped the bale to the floor. He saw Marti grin.

  “You did that on purpose,” he said, squinting his eyes as though he was mad.

  She laughed. “You did great. That one probably weighs about seventy-five pounds. There are some smaller ones in there that weigh closer to fifty.”

  He flexed his bicep. “Impressed, huh?”

  Marti shook her head with an amused smile. “Oh yeah. Wet panties and everything.”

  He chuckled, but the mention of her panties, especially wet panties, aroused him. He turned away before she could see the effect her casual comment had on him. No use embarrassing himself like a teenage boy.

  Going back to the stall, he grabbed a second, albeit smaller, bale and added it to the first. “There. That should hold us.”

  After a quick glance at her horse, Marti adjusted one bale so that she was seated in direct sight of her horse.

  “Now,” she said. “What’s the mystery favor you keep hinting about?”

  Chapter 6

  Eli dropped onto the hay bale. “Yeah. The favor.” He sighed. “I have this patient. For his privacy, I won’t tell you his name, but he’s a teen. A great kid. Lost his legs in a horrific accident.”

  “Oh,” Marti said. “You must mean Joe Manson. Poor kid.”

  “You know Joe?”

  “Everybody arou
nd here knows Joe. He was on the fast track to the Olympics. Really popular kid. Worked here with the horses a couple of summers back. He could ride like the wind. Took to it like he’d been riding all his life. He’s your patient, huh?”

  “Let’s just say, I have a teenage double amputee male.”

  “Fine. Joe’s a common name. Could be anybody.”

  He explained about Joe and the challenge of getting this depressed teenager out of a wheelchair. He finished with his confession of having a fear of horses.

  Marti walked over to the laboring horse and ran the palm of her hand along the mare’s protruding side. “You told a little white lie to get Joe going. No one would condemn you for that.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s not exactly a lie.” His balls shriveled up at the confession. He waited for her to laugh, which would only further add to his humiliation.

  She whipped her head toward him and nodded. “Okay. I can understand that. They’re big, and if you’ve not been around them, they can be intimidating.”

  Her calm acceptance caught him off-guard. “Ridiculous, right?”

  She rose and came back to sit by him. “You’re not the first guy I’ve dated who was antsy around horses. You should see some of the teen offenders I get. The first time a horse snorts at them, they freak, but they get over it. Have you ever been on a horse?”

  “My history with horses isn’t great. I was kind of an awkward kid. Overweight. Glasses. A summer horses camp from hell. You get the picture.”

  “You’re not geeky now.” Rocking over, she bumped his shoulder with hers. “Fact is, you’re kind of hunky.”