Rescue Ink
Carlisle Cullen is a pillar of the community. He's a humane veterinarian/philanthropist who owns an animal hospital and shelter. He's a loving husband, a devout father, and his three sons follow in his footsteps as well as on his Harley. They're tattooed bad boys who right the wrong to protect and save. They have hearts that fall in love with the blink of an eye. Well, except for the middle one, Edward.
Disclaimer: I own nothing Twilight.
I am still blessed with my Beta, Fran. Although, this chapter isn't Beta'd.
A/N: If anyone would like to join Fran's Facebook group (Pay It Forward), please let me know. She recs the best stories. Also, she introduces new writers to fanfic readers.
I actually like to share pics of this story in Fran's group.
Here's the site's address: : / groups / 896806390388220/ … just squish this back together.
Don't forget to check out my author's list at the end of the chapter. They now have author's name and their FF number.
And please, leave some love … Geez, I need it. It took all week to pass a kidney stone … not a picnic!
Chapter Twenty-six: Spending the Rupee and Finding Worth
BPOV
Esme and I get an early start while Edward and Carlisle head out to the sanctuary. I watch as Carlisle squeezes Esme's hip as he brings her in for an embrace. I take it to be very sexual, but they remain quite discreet. She then kisses him on the cheek, and he returns one to her forehead.
When Edward hugs me goodbye, he is nowhere near as subtle as his father. He plants his lips solidly on mine, backs away and leaves me a bit dizzy. He smiles and playfully asks, "Bring me back a present?"
"What do you want?" I coyly ask.
He smirks. "Something you think I deserve."
I taunt, "You deserve a lot of things."
He smirks. "Oh, well, that's priceless."
Between a blush and giggle, I clear my throat. "I'll do my best."
He kisses me again. "I'll miss you."
I swoon in my heart. "I'll miss you, too. I feel weird not going with you."
"Go have fun with Mom. She's stealth in her Ninja techniques of shopping."
My lips peck his. "I don't doubt that."
Carlisle interrupts us, "Rickshaws are on the way. You two want to disconnect from your liplock?"
Edward moans, staring me in the eyes. "You're one to talk, old man, playing with my mother in your office."
I whisper in embarrassment, "Edward."
Carlisle laughs. "No, no, he's right, Bella. I did ravage Esme in my office, on my desk, on the floor…"
"Okay, enough, Dad." Edward grouses.
"And almost in the shower," he continues.
"Really, Car?" Esme mumbles.
He smiles, wagging and raising his eyebrows. "Go have fun." He smacks her behind, and she has the audacity to wink at him. I think I hear a growl out of Edward.
Carlisle laughs.
Just then, two, motorized golf cart look-a-likes putter up to the dock area. They have a rounded, yellow canvas top with a bright green bottom. There is one wheel in front and two in the back and the driver has a seat next to him and two in the back. It's very small, and knowing that Esme wants to shop, I wonder where all the bags will go.
Esme has a list of markets to visit in Udaipur. She shows the rickshaw driver, and he nods, taking us to the closest one. We head off in one direction, as Carlisle and Edward go the opposite way.
When he's out of sight, I turn to look at Esme, and she pats my hand. "It's all right, Bella, you will make it through the day. I can see you are overthinking. We will take a taxi back to the hotel." She looks around the rickshaw. "This thing will hold nothing.
I sigh.
We arrive at the marketplace. It's a narrow, closed-off street with small stores on both sides, which branch out to vendors with carts of leather goods, baskets of fresh vegetables or tables of jewelry, clothing, and satchels. Esme and I walk up to the first cubicle with shelves filled with colorful fabrics in native prints and embroidered designs. An older man sits in a chair to the side. He's wearing a tan colored turban called a dastar bunga wrapped around his head. His white, full mustache, thick eyebrows, and mid-length beard stand out in comparison to his dark skin. He and Esme banter back and forth, as she points and he takes down bolt after bolt of fabric. Ishtar is very cooperative and stores Esme's purchases to one side with her name written on a piece of paper.
We walk down the narrow pathway and eye each person's wares. We come to a children's clothing cubicle, and Esme finds beautifully embroidered shirts and shorts. She buys a dozen different outfits for both girls and boys. She shrugs. "Since we've yet to know the baby's sex, I'll buy for both."
The next cubicle has row after row of sarees on hangers. Esme pulls out a gold embroidered saree of sheers and satins, the colors flattering her bronze hair and green eyes.
I find a purple saree with lavender embroidery around the neckline, wrist, and hem. I hold it up to myself, and Esme snatches it away and places it with her other purchases. She smiles. "I'll buy for you and you buy for Edward."
We walk carefully around a group of children playing around a few stores and see a men's apparel shop. Esme finds a long, gold and white Kurta that matches her saree, and white cotton harem pants. She giggles. "This will look amazing on Carlisle."
I know Edward well enough that he won't like anything purple, but I find a comfortable pair of black, cotton pants with elastic waist and a black on black embroidered Kurta that he will like and wear.
We take a break from the power drive shopping and have a snack of fruits and nuts. Esme arranges for all of our parcels to be sent to the hotel and hails another rickshaw for our next location.
The snack empowers her, and she regains her buying spirit exploring the new market.
Silver bangles catch my eye, while Esme searches a bin filled with thickly woven, fabric purses with round, bamboo handles. She buys every color of the rainbow in different patterns.
Across the way, there are colorful sandals of cotton prints, embossed leather and embroidered flat shoes with pointed toes.
Esme is in a frenzy and stumbles into a cubicle of decorative umbrellas. One umbrella has turquoise and gold swirls around the top, layered stripes in orange and gold, a black background of gold, orange, turquoise and gold circles. It continues with a turquoise background with silver swirls, a purple background with red, gold, and lavender circles and the last layer is a yellow-gold with embroidered white flowers and fringe of orange and gold threads. She inquiries about sizes and they will create mini umbrellas for her. She orders a gross of the smaller umbrellas and a few dozen of the large ones. Yeah, they are cheap, and she can incorporate them into a unique flower arrangement.
Esme finds a booth of elastic waistband pajama pants, and we buy a few pairs for Carlisle, Edward, Emmett and Jasper.
I am ready for a nap, but there are two more markets on the lists.
We enter a shop and in the back we find multi-colored sarees I think Annie Mae will love. I
buy her leather sandals and a purse. There are tunics with matching skirts I know she will flip over.
Esme finds embossed leather wallets and grabs up enough for all the men in the club.
There's an art gallery at the end of the street, and I find a cluster of small paintings of dogs, elephants, and birds. I pick up a portrait of two pug puppies, and the smiles are so cute I have to get it for Edward.
We once again arrange for all the packages to be placed in the trunk and the back seat of the taxi. I barely fit between the purchases, as Esme sits in the front.
The hotel graciously has people waiting at the dock to take everything to our rooms. On the horizon, I see another boat headed our way. Esme giggles. "I think I went overboard."
I quip, "More like they think the boat will sink with our packages."
Everyone laughs as they load both boats to the brim.
In Esme's defense, many of her purchases were for her shop.
We shower and rest; my feet hurting from all the walking. Esme also arranges for everything to be boxed and shipped home the next day. We sit on the patio and wait for Edward and Carlisle to return.
EPOV
Dad and I spend the morning doing examinations, immunizations, and preparations for afternoon surgeries. We care for minor injuries; setting broken legs, spaying, neutering and delivering a litter of six, black and brown Rottweilers. They remind me of the dogs we took from Ricky.
I think of home.
I think of Bella. Then, Mom's shopping.
My poor Bella.
I help clean out a few stalls and spend time with some of the healing animals. There's an area for recoveries where I sit with a few dogs giving them some attention and love. Within minutes, I find myself surrounded by a few dozen wagging tails.
I roll on the ground, rub bellies and chase after them. There's nothing better.
A call comes in that a small dog is trapped in a ravine. I volunteer to help with the rescue
while Dad stays to help with other surgeries.
Once we arrive at the field, we realize that's it's an old well, and we hear the echoes of the dog's small whine. Two of us put on miner's caps, grab the ropes and descend the dark, old-fashioned waterhole. The dog clings over a ledge with bruises under her eyes and around her backside. Through all her discomfort, she licks my face as I hold her close, happily panting. I have a sling around my neck, holding her in place.
She's a little Pug with black face and cream-colored fur. Probably no older than a few years. From what the other handler says, this breed is rare in India, but becoming very popular. He's afraid that the pup was thrown into the well. Cruelty knows no boundaries.
Once we reach the top, I hand the puppy over to one of the handlers. I strain to hear, and there's a whimper on the other side of the well.
They lower me again, but this side has many sharp edges, which I try to avoid. At the bottom, the water is shallow, and I find a ledge with two smaller pups on a jutted edge. I'm in complete surprise that they are unharmed, just very scared as they lick my face. This time, the handlers lower a small basket for the pups. I place them in and to the surface they go.
I look around carefully to make sure I don't miss anything. I then grab the line, and it begins to hoist me upwards. Suddenly it tangles on one of the sharp edges and the rope splits, sending me to the bottom. On the way down, I hit one jagged edge after another until I eventually land flat on my back, my head hitting a sharp stone. Before I know it, everything …
Fades to black.
*RI*
I know. I know, you hate me. But these cliffies keep your heart rate up and going.
*RI*
Time for recs: This list is authors.
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