Men of Endurance Limited Edition Collection

by Siera London

  When she won the 100K run and the $75,000 scholarship, people would remember her name. With her bachelor’s degree in music therapy, she'd teach children how to heal. Hopefully with the application of music improvisation and therapeutic communication they could build healthier lives. Had she healed? Some days she thought she had, others, she knew she’d just found better ways to hide her wounds. Whenever she saw another kid being marginalized for a life they never chose, she'd befriend them. Funny, it wasn't until high school that she realized few people had been a friend to her. Autumn was like an invisible force field, taking blows meant for others, only to be discarded when they didn't need her any longer.

  "Hey," Rui's voice cut through her morbid past. "Penny for your thoughts."

  She smiled at him. "I need at least a dollar." She laughed.

  When he just studied her, she broke eye contact beneath his watchful stare. "That was a joke."

  He looked back at the road. "Really?"

  Nope.

  "Of course." She laughed it off.

  His comment sobered her. She needed to get to her car, and then over to No Limit. Autumn was sure Owen would loan her the money to cover a part of her rent. She'd fallen behind when her car needed a new alternator. Her aunt had "blessed" her with the Millennium Falcon of cars, so the thing was held together with junkyard parts, an angel wing, and lots of prayer.

  "I promised to get you to campus, but class will be over before I get through the mid-morning rush in town."

  "I know. My car isn't far from here. Just on the other side of Smitty's Watering hole at the park."

  He nodded and eased back up Kings Bay Drive.

  "So, you run around the lake?"

  Talking about running relaxed her. Autumn wasn't a natural athlete. She had to psyche herself up every morning, the music pumping through her earbuds helped. Knowing if she failed at this, she'd have nothing. She had no real accomplishments outside of completing high school and her two-year degree in special education. She'd been so excited until she learned the piece of paper got her little more than a teacher's aide position or a minimum wage daycare worker slot. She’d tried both, but the pay barely covered her bills without much left for savings.

  "I'm training for the Western America 100-mile race," she beamed. "I'm going to win that $75,000 first prize." Maybe if she said it enough she would believe it.

  Rui hit the steering wheel with one hand. "Wow, that's impressive."

  "You think so?" she asked. Was he mocking her? Her aspirations for completing a bachelor’s degree probably seemed minuscule compared to a doctoral-prepared professor.

  "Heck, ya. You're a real-life celebrity."

  They passed the empty stands for the Farmers Market. Hood Road was mainly residential, so there weren't many cars on the street. Tommy’s Park would be hopping by mid-afternoon with stroller moms and senior citizens. For now, the parking lot held only her vehicle. "That's me," she said pointing ahead.

  Rui pulled in next to her and put the car in park.

  "Thanks for being so understanding about Simone. I'm really sorry."

  She was about to say no problem, but it had been a major problem.

  "Please, stop apologizing, Rui. I may not have kids of my own, but I understand they have a mind of their own. I'll figure it out."

  Hopefully. She'd lost two hours of her morning and she still needed to talk with Owen about the money. Her landlord had grown impatient with her partial payments. Autumn tried to make up for the short falls by sharing her meals, cutting the grass with a hand-powered mower. One weekend, she'd even gotten a can of paint from the garage, repainted the fence.

  "Just taking responsibility for my own."

  "Yeah, there's definitely a country song in there," Autumn teased. She expected him to laugh. Instead, a pinched expression crossed his face and then it was gone.

  "I'll wait and follow you out."

  Opening the door, she reassured him, "There's no need, Rui. I'll be fine." With that, Autumn waved good-bye and walked to her car.

  Behind the wheel of her vintage Beetle, she stuck the key in the ignition, and turned. Nothing. She wiggled the key and tried again. Rui sat patiently, waiting. No, no, no. This could not be happening to her. Please let him leave. With her right foot, she pumped the gas pedal three times while she twisted the key. Nope, nada, nothing. Giving a deep exhale, she closed her eyes, searching for the calm to slow her racing heart. She didn't have the money for a tow truck and she didn't need him to see her make the run back home.

  Leaning over she reached for the window handle and cranked the squeaky glass down. She ignored the fact that the angular pane had slipped off its track. To fix it, she'd have to exit the car, and then use both hands to pull the thick plate of glass back into place.

  "You can go." Please. If the car started, it rattled worse than a tin can on asphalt. She preferred not to have an audience when that happened.

  To Autumn's dismay, Rui got out of the car. Great.

  Bending, he peered into the window. "What's wrong?"

  Heck if she knew. She'd replaced everything on the car, but the candy shell. Thank goodness, the paint job could wait a few years, at least until after graduation.

  "Putter is just being temperamental," she offered, hoping her lighthearted reply would cut back on his questions.

  He stuck his head through the open window. Whoa, his hair shone like black gold. In that moment, she wondered what it would feel like to run her fingers through his thick mane.

  "You named your car, Putter?"

  A soft smile spread across his lips. Autumn thought he looked younger in that moment. There always seemed to be an edge of anxiety surrounding Rui Connors whenever she passed him in the campus breezeways.

  She shrugged. "As evidenced by her behavior, the name fits."

  Stupid piece of junk would cost her money she didn't have.

  "Pop the hood," he said, moving in front of the car.

  She frowned. Everyone knew the classic Beetle engine was in the rear of the car.

  "Hey, professor."

  "Yeah? Please call me Rui," he called back. "You're not one of my students."

  A small miracle, too. Not a word he uttered would stick in her head because she'd be too busy staring at his handsome face.

  "Engine's in the back."

  He looked up, cheeks reddening. "I knew that."

  Jogging past her window, she heard his laughter.

  Ten minutes passed. Nothing. Another ten. Nada. Okay, men didn't like to be bothered when they were tinkering but shouldn't he have said something.

  The creak of the heavy metal door opening alerted him to her arrival.

  "Everything okay?" Autumn asked.

  Lifting his head from the engine block, gave he a sheepish grin. She frowned.

  "What?" she squeaked, afraid the repairs would bankrupt her.

  He briefly looked away as if he was leery to share his thoughts.

  "I don't know a thing about cars," he confessed. "And," he said rubbing his neck and spreading engine crud on his skin, "this one is more confusing than most. Literally, this engine with all these little hoses crammed together reminds me of a balled-up term paper."

  Her eyes stretched wide in amazement. "So, you've been back here posing for the last ten minutes?" She couldn't contain her laughter.

  He shrugged. "Well, I thought something might look familiar."

  "Oh, sugar plum fairy, like a little computer mouse hand flashing, click here." She laughed harder.

  His chuckle was low and deep. The sound filled her with delight. She liked Rui Conners. He was an academician, not a mechanic, but she appreciated the gesture.

  "Let me call a tow truck," he said rounding the side of the car, coming to stand beside her.

  "No," she said too quickly.

  He slammed the hood and leaned his compact backside on the slotted grill. "Why not?" Autumn knew she needed to shape her answer. Endurance was a small town. Not being able to pay her rent was a
private matter. Her car sitting at Raymond's garage for weeks because of non-payment would make her financial situation very public.

  Why indeed?

  "I have a car repair kit at home. I can probably fix it." A half-truth. She did have some tools, one of those pink zippered numbers from the half-off after Christmas sale aisle. Autumn prayed somewhere amongst the wrench and twist-ties, she had the tools to fix it.

  "Okay," he said.

  She released a sigh. Now, he would leave.

  "Hop in," he offered. "I'll give you a ride."

  Oh, the last thing she needed was to be alone with Rui Conners.

  * * *

  Rui darted a glance at his passenger in rapt amusement as Autumn stuck her hands out the open sunroof and high-fived the rays of sunshine.

  "Having fun?"

  She giggled like Kirsten used to. Before she realized marriage to a college professor lacked the spotlight, she’d laughed at his jokes. Motherhood had been a poor substitute for fame. The combination of marriage and motherhood had robbed his wife of her joy. Looking back, it was foolish to think supporting one more tour abroad would bring his wife back to him. He’d been desperate to save his family, so he’d given his blessing, agreeing to be a single parent for one year. Stupid.

  "Absolutely. I wish I had the kind of money to afford a car with a sunroof."

  She fell silent, as if she'd said too much. Rui wanted her to feel comfortable confiding in him. He sought to reassure her.

  "You'll have it."

  Slowly, a soft smile formed across her face. "Thank you, Rui."

  He thought to use this time to get to know her.

  "Tell me about you, Autumn." She tried to turn away. Since they were at a traffic stop, he touched her chin and turned her face to his. "Tell me."

  She shrugged. "Nothing to tell, really. To celebrate my twenty-sixth birthday, I moved here from southern California to complete my degree in music therapy. I taught myself to play the piano and guitar. In three weeks, I’ll spend no more than 31 hours outrunning hundreds of ultra athletes in order to secure my future. When I'm not training or studying, I babysit Owen Tate's little boy, if he and Ivy want alone time."

  Whoa, at thirty-two he felt like an old fart compared to her. He’d heard talk about town of her working on a bachelors curriculum. At Autumn’s age, most students had completed their four-year degree. Could he have received misinformation?

  "Sounds like you're a determined and talented young woman on a mission. How much longer before you graduate?"

  She smiled. "Thanks, but I'm just getting started again. I still have another two years to complete."

  Rui wondered what happened to interrupt her formal education. As the only child, his Chinese mother had drilled into his head the importance of education. Even as an elementary student, there was no accommodation in his academic calendar for friendships, recreation, social clubs, or athletics.

  “And your family?” Rui wanted to know all about the people who raised this fiercely determined yet fun-loving woman.

  Her smiled slipped, but she quickly pulled it back in place. “It’s just me. I have an aunt down south, but…” she hesitated. “We give one another a wide berth.”

  Autumn grimaced as if in pain, but then that smile reappeared. Was it a wide berth or a permanent rift? Her expression led him to believe the latter.

  Rui frowned. “What happened to your parents?”

  She squirmed and Rui could tell by the stiff posture she was uncomfortable with his questions.

  “Autumn, I didn’t mean to-,”

  She held up a hand. “It’s fine.” He knew it wasn’t. “I’m not sure where they are. I saw my father once. My mother left afterwards. I think to chase after him,” her voice trailed off. “Guess he was the life she wanted.”

  Autumn’s matter-of-fact retelling surprised him. Anger swelled inside of him just listening. What must it have felt like to have a parent leave you behind chasing after a fantasy?

  He said his next words with caution. “Well, that sucks.”

  She smiled, but Rui noticed the tension lines framing her mouth. “My aunt, my mother’s younger sister, she took me in. So, I’m good.” Took her in-like laundry that needed to be folded and put away in a closet? “I’m not sure why I dumped that on you.”

  He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “Pretty sure, I asked for it. Besides, I’m loyal. You won’t hear a word on the Endurance gossip line.”

  Not wanting to step on another landmine, he changed the subject.

  "What do you do for fun?"

  She met his eyes with her gaze. "Run."

  He chuckled. "I hate running, so I need to introduce you to another hobby."

  Images of he and Autumn sharing a kiss, deep and passionate, came to mind. Bú häo. Not good. Burying the thought, Rui cut a quick glance at Autumn. His chest tightened at how sweet she looked, fresh. He bet she’d taste good, too.

  She grinned. “Running is akin to music.”

  He wanted to keep asking questions just to hear her voice.

  “In what way?”

  “A solo can be just as beautiful as a duet.”

  Had she spent a lot of time alone? Following his divorce, Rui had little energy to socialize. Not that he was good at small talk or non-academic conversations, but the fact that he no longer belonged to anyone magnified how alone he’d always been.

  “What else?”

  "Let's see, there's eating, running, working or job-hunting, sleeping, and-,"

  "Wait a minute," Rui cut in, "those are all necessities."

  "I'm a college student on a partial scholarship. I'm trying to avoid the six-figure student loan trap, so I sacrifice."

  He didn't mean his question to sound insensitive or out of touch. His father's Montgomery GI bill had covered the education costs beyond the four-year scholarship he received.

  With the car in motion, he kept his eyes on the road. "Sorry if I was being critical."

  When he felt a hand settle on his forearm he relaxed. "It's fine, Rui. And you're right, sometimes I hang out at Diego's. I memorize chord shapes, note values, and time signatures when they have live musicians."

  He looked at her. "I don't think I've ever heard any of those words used together. Chord shapes?"

  She smiled that smile again, and his pulse sped up.

  When they passed Abel Burney's golf course, he frowned. Where was her place? The countryside opened up once he passed the driving range. Nothing much beyond Abel's place except open fields and the highway. The private homes were few and miles apart.

  "How did you find your place?" he asked. Endurance, though small, it was impossible to know every road. Lots of folks kept to themselves, drank well water, ate what they grew and hunted. He kept close to town or the campus, so he didn't know many of the farmers.

  She chuckled. "Went for the cheapest place advertised, and then finagled an additional one-hundred off the asking price."

  "Seems quiet," he said. In truth the road looked deserted. He wondered how safe it was for a woman alone. This area of Endurance was miles away from town which was twenty miles from the campus.

  "Too quiet sometimes. But between school and work, I'm not home often."

  "How many jobs do you have?"

  She cut her eyes. “You're mighty inquisitive, Professor Conners."

  He felt warmth heat his face. "Sorry, I have an eight-year-old, so my filters are pretty much null and void."

  A hearty laugh filled the car. "I get it. Cai keeps asking to taste me like I'm a piece of chocolate."

  Rui totally understood the boy's fascination.

  "Oh, there's the turn," she said pointing to an unpaved road he would've missed without her direction. "Turn between those two rusted out mailboxes."

  "Where?" Rui asked, searching the roadside.

  Sure enough, two breadbox style boxes with red tin molded into miniatures flags mounted on a thick wooden beam came into view.

  Slowly Rui left the smooth tar o
f the highway, for the crunch of gravel beneath his tires. The road could double as an office building hallway. Rui could hear the sweep of the overgrown bush against his paint job. The sedan dipped, and the underbelly scraped on the gravel road. He winced when the car bounced and juggled over one pot-hole after another, the sound was as coarse as metal in a blender. Seriously, no wonder Autumn's car was falling apart. This road was the worst.

  They pulled up in front of a tiny two-story structure. A stout man with a dingy white wife beater under a plaid long-sleeved shirt worked at stacking boxes in the driveway. He continued to pile colorful crates and cardboard containers on the curb.

  A strangled sound came for Rui's passenger seat. He looked over. Autumn's eyes were fixed on the pile of trash the man heaped higher with each box. Tears streamed down her face. What the hell was happening?

  "I thought I had more time," he heard her whisper.

  By her stark expression, Rui knew what the scene before them represented. The ever-increasing pile of boxes contained Autumn's belongings. She was being evicted.

  "Autumn," he said cautiously. She looked so fragile, a different person from the one who'd come to his daughter's rescue with Mrs. Glatt. His heart pounded in his chest. He found himself wanting to scoop her up in his arms, protect her.

  "Please, Rui." Her lip trembled. "Please, don't tell anyone."

  They needed to get something straight from the start. He took her fingers in his own, surprised by how cold they felt against his skin. He didn't get a reaction. That made him nervous.

  "Hey." He shook her hand. "Come on little tigress, eyes on me."

  She sat perfectly still, the confident woman on a full retreat. Rui needed to reach her, but how? He trapped her chin between his thumb and forefinger. Closing the distance between them, he placed a chaste kiss to the corner of her mouth.