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

  Kayla shook her head and then stopped thinking about selling the ranch. She just couldn’t do it. She didn’t have the heart, or perhaps more accurately, the lack of heart. “Hank, I’ve made a decision. I can’t sell the ranch. I just can’t do it.”

  *****

  She spent the last week and half playing around on the ranch, and having the time of her life with Hank. The title office? It was just a thing of the past for her. The sale of the land? There would be no sale.

  She even pondered sending a thank you letter to the selectmen who denied her request to sell it. That one event set a cascade in motion that greatly changed – and improved – her life.

  Often times, the persons in a trip are what make the trip special. With the exception of Hank, there really wasn’t any specific person or persons that made this trip special.

  What made the trip special? It was just two things. That was all she needed. There was the ranch, and the animals on the ranch. It changed her life. It was great.

  When she finally made it back to the hotel, she packed up her clothes and zipped her bag up. She had to make sure that she had everything she needed. Clothes, shoes, tech equipment, etc.

  Makeup. Oh yes, that was still a priority. Just because Colorado made her a country girl, didn’t mean that she didn’t want to be pretty. She made some more preparations. She planned to look beautiful while riding a horse in the country. That included makeup.

  She pulled her wheeled suitcase into the hotel lobby and parked it beside the desk. She adjusted her cowgirl hat and smiled at the clerk behind the counter. Even though many things had changed about her, she still didn’t like hearing the word “ma’am.”

  “Hello, young lady. My name is Kayla, and I’m just checking out.”

  The young lady behind the counter smiled up at her and thanked her for staying. “Thank you for staying at our hotel. How was your stay? Did you have a nice time?”

  She sure had a nice time, and she let the clerk know it. She went so far as to tell the clerk that it was one of the best times of her life, and she accomplished a lot of great things.

  “That’s really great. I want to accomplish stuff too. I’ve got a goal to get a good paying position in the corporate world,” the clerk said.

  Kayla stared into the innocent, young, brown eyes of the clerk and reached into her purse. She handed the clerk a business card with her name on it. “I had goals like you when I was younger, and having those goals was the biggest mistake of my life. Call me if you want to talk” she said as she wrote her personal cell number on the card.

  The business card read “Kayla Derringer – Executive Vice President of Marketing.”

  She walked away from the clerk without saying another word, but she did a few more things that were symbolically huge. She threw the rest of her business cards into a stainless steel garbage can, along with all of the other business cards she had from the company that she had accumulated over the years.

  There was one last thing that she did, but this one was a little more than just symbolism. She pulled out her cellphone and called the Vice President of Operations. She had something important to tell him.

  She dialed his number and it rang a few times. The little chauvinist picked up the phone. “Vice President of Operations?”

  “Hi Sean. It’s me, Kayla” she said proudly and happily.

  He had his usual type of demeanor. No excitement. No happiness. He was just hollow and plain. “Hi Kayla. When are you coming back? We’ve got a problem over here.”

  She didn’t ask what his problem was, nor did she care. She didn’t ask because nothing that happened at that company would ever be her problem again. “Sean, I’m not coming back today.”

  He sighed and groaned on the other end of the phone. “Okay. How much more time off do you need?”

  She giggled into the phone and grinned as she thought of what he must have looked like on the other side. He didn’t look good. He was shocked, angry, and beside himself with depression. “I don’t think you understand. I’m not coming back at all” she said with a squeaky cuteness in her voice.

  “Are you serious?” he raised his voice right at her.

  She shrugged her shoulders as she talked. She also took satisfaction that it was the last time she would ever be shrugging her shoulders at him. “Yes, I’m serious. I’m going to be moving out here to Colorado.”

  “What the heck happened to you? Why in God’s name would you do that?” he yelled and shook his head as he was talking.

  She looked at the best reason of all for staying in Colorado. It was the one thing that she had wanted her entire life, and now she had found it. It was the one thing she wanted even more than to become a CEO. It was love.

  She looked at the glistening ring on her finger and smiled into her phone. “I’m staying because I said yes.”

  THE END

  Another bonus story is on the next page.

  Bonus Story 6 of 10

  Always Faithful

  “Sweet home Alabama. Woo-hoo. Where the skies are so blue. Woo-hoo. Sweet home Alabama. Woo-hoo. Lord, I'm coming home to you…” Lynyrd Skynyrd belts out his song that’s favored by Southern and military bar patrons, through the sound system, and over the drone of celebrating Marines who have gathered together to gulp alcohol and celebrate their buddy’s end of military service, amid an average Friday night’s revelry among the civilian residents of this military town.

  “Gunny, Gunny! Over here!” Master Sergeant Oberlin yells across the crowded bar as he waves Gunnery Sergeant William “Bill” Jost over to the small table that he and his fellow Marine buddies have commandeered for their base of operation at the bar tonight. From this position, they have a strategic view of the front door, bathrooms, behind the bar, and the hallway that leads to an alternate exit, which lets out into a side alley.

  Although they live and work in the relative safety of the City of Twentynine Palms, in the Southern Mojave Desert, of San Bernardino County California, at the Marine Corps Air Ground Combat Center; these battle hardened warriors can’t help being both tactical and strategic, even in their off hours.

  Positioning themselves close enough to the “head” for urgent bathroom breaks, and in proximity to observe the building’s ingress and egress points just in case something pops off in the bar tonight. A fight, bombing, robbery, or who knows what dangerous imaginings these women and men who have survived the hell of multiple tours into combat, are capable of conjuring in their minds as plausible occurrences on a Friday night in a local bar.

  “Yeah, sorry I’m late, I had to drop Zack off at my in-laws before I came here. My mother-in-law was chatting me up about how Zack and I are doing, and well you know, you can’t just walk away on a conversation like that.”

  “You’re right man,” Oberlin says with a hardy slap on Jost’s back that would have knocked a lesser man over. “How are you guys doing after Rebecca’s passing?” By-the-way, I know that I didn’t come around a lot when, well towards the end,” Oberlin said with his head hung in shame.

  “You know I love you like a brother, and my godson Zack, but I’ve seen enough death to last two lifetimes. I just couldn’t bear to see the light go out of Becca’s eyes man. She was like a sister to me, and to see cancer…” His voice trailed off as he shook his head from side to side as if shaking an awful memory out of his mind’s eye. This time, Jost placed a strong, firm hand on his massive friend’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

  “It’s alright man, I get it, believe me. Now, are we here to mourn the dead or to party?” Jost asks. Oberlin knows these are not the words of an uncaring husband whose wife’s death is still fresh and raw in the hearts and minds of those whom she has left behind.

  Instead, they are the words of a man compartmentalizing his feelings so that he can cope with his grief in the way that warriors do—in fits and starts that creep in from time-to-time.

  Oberlin hoisted his glass again, smiled broadly, and yelled, “Gunny, I’m glad you d
idn’t skip out on your ETS party man. You don’t end a term of service everyday Gunny—we need to celebrate my friend.” The rest of the group responded to Oberlin’s proclamation to begin the night’s merrymaking with a bawdy round of cheers and jeers for their comrade—Gunny Jost.

  “Hey, darlin’ two more of these on my tab please.” Oberlin interrupts himself from chiding Gunnery Sergeant Jost to bark out an order to a bar server.

  “Sure thing big-man,” she says as she squeezes Oberlin’s muscle bound bicep, that’s gripping his nearly empty glass of Makers Mark, Kentucky bourbon, feeling confident that she’s just increased her end of the night tip by $20.00 with this little stroke of Oberlin’s ego.

  The talented server managed to keep her dignity and the drinks flowing while serving Oberlin’s raucous group. Earning a $150.00 gratuity from this single table in her station.

  *****

  Having had a little too much to drink, Jost hops into one of the taxis waiting outside of the bar as a part of their nightly routine of picking up intoxicated patrons at the end of the night. Arriving at his in-laws in a taxi, he decides to crawl into bed with his son Zack rather than waking him up to a taxi-ride in the early morning hours.

  Jost kissed his son sweetly on the forehead, and even in his drunken haze, he silently prays; “God please let Zack be alright.”

  “Dad, you smell like whiskey.” With closed eyes, a grumpy, sleepy, Zack whines.

  “I know son, it was my going away party, forgive me?”

  Zack, hearing the sadness in his father’s voice was suddenly more alert. Opening his eyes to stare into his father’s face in the darkened room, illuminated by only the digital time on the cable television device sitting on a small television stand in the guest room of his deceased mother’s parent’s home. “It’s okay Dad, I’m glad you had a good time with your buddies. Was Godfather there?”

  “Yeah. Ha, ha, he’s the reason I’m in this state in the first place. He made sure the drinks kept flowing all night, ha, ha, ha. That Oberlin can sure drink me under the table. Get some sleep kid, we have a busy day tomorrow.”

  “We do? What are we doing?”

  “Yeah, we need to figure out what I’m going to do with myself now that I’ve left the Marine Corp. But don’t worry, we’ll figure it out together, alright buddy?” Jost asked as he gave his boy another kiss, on the cheek, rubbing his little face tenderly with hands as rough as course sandpaper.

  “Dad?”

  “Yes, son?

  “You really reek Dad, don’t kiss me again until you brush your teeth,” Zack said.

  “I stink huh? Well, take this, huh, huh, huh.”

  “Ha, ha, Dad, stop, your breath is singeing my eyebrows, I’m getting drunk off the fumes, ha, ha, you’re killing me, ha, ha, ha, ha.” Zack laughed as his father exhaled deeply into his face, torturing him with whiskey breath and tickles at 3:00 a.m.

  The father and son fell asleep with the pleasant thoughts of their close-knit bond swimming in their heads.

  *****

  Zack was awoken by a familiar smell that pulled him out of deep sleep and into the world of activity. He sat up in the bed with a start and said out loud. “Pancakes!”

  The sound of his son’s excited voice and the jerk of the shared bed, sent a shot of adrenaline through Gunnery Sergeant Jost’s body, making him instantly alert and wild-eyed.

  Seeing the curly, mop-headed, blond boy, with marble-sized blue eyes staring at him with a smiling face saying, “Dad, pancakes!” Caused Jost to put the brakes on his fight or flight response and instead, adjusts his speech and behavior to his son’s level of excitement.

  His Marine trained, muscle memory told his body to prepare to fight or flee, but it soon became painfully clear to him that his state of alertness was inappropriate for the situation.

  This biochemical response, mental adjustment, and rehearsed behavior was for his son’s benefit, and it made Jost feel like he had it all under control, but Zack wasn’t fooled. He noticed his father’s initial, somewhat scary response, but he loves him too much to mention it. He knew that his dad was trying really hard to “get better”.

  For a second, he felt that sudden pang in his belly the way that he did every time that he missed his mom and wished she were here.

  Jost noticed the flash of pain and fear across his son’s face, but like Zack, he loves his son too much to mention it.

  Instead, he said, “I don’t smell pancakes, I smell bacon, and coffee—I swear your Grandma’s a saint for making breakfast this morning.”

  “I’m using the bathroom first to get downstairs before you do scamp.” Jost said as he jumped off the bed and ran to the bathroom, allowing Zack to race past him.

  “Ha, ha, ha, you’re getting slow Marine, see you downstairs, maybe I’ll save you a pancake Dad.”

  “That’s right Gunny, fake it till you make it”, Jost muttered to himself. “Just like the Marine base psychiatrist said,” Jost whispered. Gunny Jost was in the throes of intensive therapy for Post Traumatic Stress (PTS) when his wife Rebecca began the fight for her life. She was the glue that kept their family together, his rock, his love, his best friend, and now she’s gone.

  Jost had prided himself on being a loving and involved parent, even through two combat deployments, long separations, and much longer hours when he was at his home base at Twentynine Palms. When after returning home from serving in Iraq, he was diagnosed with PTS, he got help right away.

  Jost remembered his father telling him how much his own father had changed after coming home from Vietnam, and how he loved his father but was afraid of his temper, his drinking, and his dark moods.

  Jost recalled how his grandfather always wanted to be left alone to tinker in his woodshed, and how his father and grandfather barely said more than hello, goodbye, and a little small talk about sports. Jost wanted a different relationship with his son and immediately sought help for his anxiety, hypervigilance, and depression.

  He has come a long way from being the guy who couldn’t handle more than 10-minutes in a grocery store to the person he is today, but he knows that he is still working on adjusting to being back “in the world”, at home with friends and family and the pressures of everyday life.

  With Rebecca gone, Jost knew that he had to make good on his promise to the love of his life to take good care of her baby boy, and he can’t do that if he’s always off on an assignment for the Marine Corp, or zoned out on the handful of pills the base doctors prescribed for him to take each day.

  Now that the worst was over, he was trying to manage his mood disorder with exercise, meditation, a healthy diet, and peaceful living. He hated to leave the Corp but he had to put his son’s needs first. He just needed to figure out what to do next. Rebecca’s life insurance wouldn’t last forever, and most of it is set aside for Zack’s college education, so he needed to find a job in the coming months.

  *****

  When Gunnery Sargent Bill Jost came down to breakfast, Zack and his grandparents were already eating pancakes. “Good morning Mom”, Jost said to his mother-in-law, with a kiss on her cheek. “Morning Dad, how’d the Steelers play last night?” Jost asked, his father-in-law as he sat down and poured a cup of coffee.

  “Ah, don’t rub salt in an open wound, Bill, you know the score just as well as I do,” Roger said with a grimace and a half grin, as he flipped through the morning paper.

  Roger and his wife, Ann are Rebecca’s parents, and Jost’s parents too, now that his own mother and father are deceased. As the only child in a family that isn’t close, Bill Jost felt pretty alone until he met Rebecca, her brother Pete, and her mom and dad.

  “Bill, Zack said the two of you were going to plan what you’re going to do with yourself now that you’re out of the Marines. I thought that you said you have a little nest egg and the insurance too, must you go back to work so soon? You really haven’t had time to adjust to things with it being just you and Zack now,” Ann said.

  “We’re fin
e Mom, there’s no hurry, but I’d feel better with a plan. There’s no reason why I need to stay here in San Bernardino now that I’m out of the Corp, but there’s no big push to leave either.”

  “Zack, what do you think?” his father asked.

  “Dad, I hate my school, I don’t have any friends, and I think the only reason the bullies leave me alone is because my dad’s a Marine, so if we have to move I’m all in!”

  “Well I have an idea guys,” Ann said, “Dad and I need to go back to Lancaster to see about finding a new renter for our house. We thought that we’d stay here a while longer with you to help out with Zack and whatever else you need. How about we all drive across country to Pennsylvania Dutch country? We could enjoy a nice family trip together, take care of our business with the house, and tour Amish country for a while?”

  “That’s a wonderful idea honey!” Roger said to his wife.

  “Well you married me for my brains didn’t you?” Ann quipped.

  “No, it was because of those great legs you’ve got,” Roger said as he playfully tugged at the hem of Ann’s dress.

  “Oh, Roger you’re incorrigible!” Ann said, slapping his hand away, as she blushed like a teenager.

  Bill laughed, but he felt a little pang of grief in his belly as his mind wandered to the thought of no longer being able to make his Rebecca blush.

  “A cross-country trip sounds great actually, but I think Zack and I need a little time alone to really get to know each other. I’ve spent a lot of time away from him, maybe we guys should take some time to ourselves. What if we drive your camper to Pennsylvania for you and you guys fly home? We’ll meet you in Lancaster and visit at your place for a while, what do you say?”

  Ann and Roger look at each other and silently come to an agreement, a skill that comes from having a long-term, healthy relationship. Roger answered with, “That sounds great Bill, what do you say we leave next week?”