by Jillian Hart
Even the bagger was friendly as she handed Alexandra a small paper sack.
Taking her purchases, she headed for the electronic doors. Everywhere she looked, she saw people chatting, friends greeting one another, and heard snatches of cheerful conversations.
After the stress and noise of living in a city, she liked breathing in the fresh-scented air. It was so quiet, the anxiety that seemed to weigh her down lifted a little and she took a deep breath. Longing filled her as she headed back to her car. A yearning for the kind of life she’d never known.
Fishing the keys from her pocket, she watched the woman from the checkout line lead the way to a minivan parked in the lot. How content she looked, carrying her small daughter on her hip, opening the back for the box boy who pushed her cart full of groceries. Full of dinners to be made. No doubt she’d drive to a tidy little house not far from here, greet her husband when he came home from work and never know what loneliness was.
That life seemed impossible to Alexandra. Wishful thinking, that’s what it was. Maybe, someday—if the good Lord were willing—she’d have a life like that, too.
In the meantime, she had a lot troubling her. She grabbed her water bottle from the front seat and tucked it under her arm. Clouds were moving in overhead, but the sun still shone as brightly as ever. The weather would hold for a lunchtime picnic.
When she spied a little ice-cream stand through the alley, she headed toward it. At the far end of the gravel parking lot, there was a patch of mown grass shaded by old, reaching maples.
Perfect. There were picnic tables beneath the trees, worse for the wear, but functional and swept clean. No one was around, so she chose the most private one. The wood was rough against her arms as she spread out her rolls and cheese.
A car halted at the ice-cream stand’s window. As the driver ordered, she heard the murmur of pleasant voices like friends greeting one another.
Alone, Alexandra bowed her head in prayer and gave thanks for her many blessings.
John Corey knew the look of someone hurting. Maybe because he knew something about that. For whatever reason, he couldn’t get the woman out of his mind as the minute hand slowly crept up the face of the twenty-year-old clock his uncle had hung on that wall decades before.
She was beautiful, no doubt about that. Not in a flamboyant, look-at-me sort of way, but pretty in a quiet, down-deep sort of way. And those wounded-doe eyes of hers made him wonder what had become of her. She hadn’t been back to let him repair her tent, and that disappointed him.
Only because he wanted to do what he could, that was all. Helping was sort of his calling. Sure, he owned a hardware store in a little town that was so small, a person could blink twice and miss the entire downtown. But being part of a community meant being aware of its needs.
He’d gotten in the habit of helping out where he could, fixing eighty-year-old Mrs. Fletcher’s outside faucet, for instance, because a widow on a set budget might not be able to afford a plumber.
He’d also come to believe that the Lord gave everyone a job in this world. And that his job was doing what he could. Like the beautiful young woman—there he went again, thinking about her. She’d looked as if she had the weight of the world on her slim shoulders, and, in a way, it was like looking at a reflection of himself.
Some might say her problems weren’t any of his business, and they might have a point. But what if she did need help? What if there was something he could do? Lord knew he had a debt to pay this world, and he’d seen her look at the Help Wanted sign he’d posted behind the counter. Did she need a job? But before he could ask her, she’d bolted through the door and was gone with a jangle of the overhead bell and a click of the knob.
And now that it was long past the noon hour and not one customer had been by the entire hour, he had plenty of time to think on what might have been. Plenty of time to notice the little yellow Volkswagen was still parked outside his front window.
Not any of his business, he reminded himself as he finished his microwaved cup of beef-flavored noodles at the front counter. She didn’t want help repairing her tent. Fine. Still, something nagged at him, troubling his conscience.
You’re just thinking of another woman you couldn’t help. John couldn’t deny it, and it left him feeling as if he had to do something, no matter how small, to help even the balance of things.
He was crumpling the noodle container and tossing it into the garbage bin in the back when it came to him. Working quickly, he dug his way through the messy storage room until he found the small kits he’d received a few months ago.
With one of them tucked under his arm, he hurried to the front. Just in time, too. He spotted her through the display window, unlocking her car. Her long dark hair tumbled around her face, a face more beautiful than he’d seen in a long while. Wearing faded jeans and a fuzzy white sweater, she caught his attention and held it.
Like a good Christian man, he ought to be concentrating on his good deed. But what did he notice? Her slim waist and her lean, graceful arms. She’d settled behind the wheel by the time he made it outside and since she’d rolled down her passenger side window, he did what any good man would do.
He leaned on the door and peered through the window. “Need any help, ma’am?”
She squinted at him as she settled her pink plastic sunglasses on her nose. “Ma’am?”
“I’m trying to show off the manners my mama raised me with.”
That made her smile, and it was a sight to behold. Dimples teased into the creases bracketing her mouth as she flipped a lock of molasses curls behind her shoulder.
What was with him? He had no business trying to make a pretty woman smile. No right to notice her beauty.
He cleared his throat, hoping to sound more gruff. “I’ve got something for you. Call it a visitor’s gift for every new customer through my door.”
“I don’t need a gift.”
“It’s a tent repair kit.” He handed her the package through the window. “It’s got everything you need. Since you’ve already experienced one tent disaster, you could have another. It never hurts to be prepared.”
“It certainly doesn’t.” She stared at the kit he offered, her soft mouth turning down in a frown. “How much does this cost?”
“Not a thing.”
“I’d hate to be indebted to you.”
“What debt? I didn’t mention any debt.”
“Nobody does something for nothing. It’s a hard fact of life.”
“The kit was a free sample to me from the manufacturer, trying to get me to order a whole batch from them. My storage closet is full of them. You’d be doing me a favor by taking one off my hands.”
How wary she looked. “All right. Thank you.”
“No problem,” he replied, already backing away. “You take care now.”
That was that. He’d done the right thing, he figured. Funny thing was, he couldn’t seem to turn around and walk away, or even look away as she bent to set the tent repair kit on the floor, her rich brown hair rioting forward to hide her face. Thick, lustrous curls that made him notice. And keep noticing.
He knew it was the wrong thing to do, but he couldn’t drag his attention away from her as she straightened. The amazing fall of hair bounced over her shoulders. He stood with his shoes cemented to the sidewalk as she reached for her keys with long slim fingers.
The hurt—he could see it in her, because it was so like the pain within him.
Maybe that was why he couldn’t lift his feet and walk away. Why he watched as she blew her lustrous bangs from her eyes with a puff. She slipped her keys into the ignition, but didn’t start the engine.
She leaned across the gearshift instead. “It’s odd, because I have a hole in my tent, too. I decided not to patch because I was trying to make do.”
“On a budget vacation?”
“Let’s just say a very tight budget. So tight, I’ve been praying for no rain, and then you hand me a repair kit out of the blue. It’s
as if heaven whispered to you.”
“Could be. You just never know.”
“Thank you. I really mean that.” She started the engine, and blue smoke coughed from the tailpipe.
“How much farther do you think this thing will get?” he had to ask her, gesturing toward her Volkswagen.
“I know Baby doesn’t look like much.” She snapped her seat belt into place. “But she hasn’t let me down yet.”
“As long as you’re sure.”
“Absolutely.”
He watched her head east through town, taking the back way to Bozeman.
He couldn’t say why, but it was as if he’d lost something. And that didn’t make any sense at all. The jangle of his phone reminded him he had better things to do than to stand in the middle of the sidewalk. He had his own problems to solve, debts to pay.
Redemption to find.
Chapter Two
Alexandra glanced at her dashboard and the temperature gauge. The arrow was definitely starting to nudge toward the big H.
Great. A serious breakdown was the last thing she needed. Hadn’t she just told the guy from the hardware store that her car was trustworthy? That Baby wouldn’t let her down?
It looked as though she’d been wrong. She glanced in her rearview mirror and watched a trail of steam erupt from beneath the hood and rise into the air like fog. Yep, Baby was definitely having a problem. She nosed the car toward the gravel shoulder alongside the narrow two-lane country road.
There wasn’t a soul in sight. Now what? She killed the engine and listened to the steam hiss and spit. It looked serious and expensive. Expensive was the one thing she didn’t need right now. She hopped out to take a look.
The relief that rushed through her at the sight of the cracked hose couldn’t be measured. It was a cheap repair she could do herself, and she was grateful for that.
A cow crowded close to the wire fence on the other side of the ditch and mooed at her.
“Hello, there.” Her voice seemed to lift on the restless winds and carry long and wide. A dozen grazing cows in the field swung their big heads to study her.
Great. It was only her and the fields of cows. The green grassy meadows gently rolled for as long as she could see. There was the long ribbon of road behind and ahead of her, but nothing else.
No houses. No businesses. No phones.
It was sort of scary, thinking she was out here all alone, but she’d look on the bright side. If she walked to town and back, she wouldn’t have to dig into her remaining funds to pay for a tow truck.
After locking her car up tight, Alexandra grabbed her purse and started out. Dust rose beneath her sneakers as she crunched through the gravel. It reminded her of when she was little, and she’d hike with her younger brothers down the long dirt road to the corner gas station at the edge of town.
Like today, the sun, hidden by clouds, had been cool on her back and the air had tickled her nose with the scents of growing grass and earth. In that little store she’d traded her hard-earned pennies for ice-cream bars and big balls of bubble gum.
Why was she remembering these things? She’d long put that painful time out of her mind. What was coming over her today? It was being here, in this rural place. She’d been careful for so long to live with the bustle of a city around her. Traffic and people and buildings that cast shadows and cut into the sky.
It was a mistake to head east. In retrospect, maybe she should have headed south, through California. A busy interstate would never have brought these memories to light. But in this place, the fresh serenity of the countryside surrounded her. The whir of the wind in her ears and the rustle of it in the grasses. After fifteen minutes of walking, not one car had passed.
The wind kicked, bringing with it the heavy smell of rain. She tipped her head back to stare up at the sky. Dark clouds were sailing overhead, blotting out the friendlier gray ones. After another ten minutes, she could see the sheets of rain falling on the farther meadows, gray curtains that were moving closer. She’d lived in Washington State all her life, so what was a little rain?
The roar of an engine broke through the murmur of the wind. Glancing over her shoulder, Alexandra saw a big red pickup barreling along the two-lane road between the seemingly endless fields.
She prayed it was a friendly truck. That it would pass by and keep going. The closer the vehicle came, the more vast the fields and the sky seemed. The more alone she felt.
Her heart made a little kick in her chest. Come on, truck, just keep on going. No need to slow down.
She didn’t glance over her shoulder, continuing to walk along the edge of the ditch.
She could hear the rumble of a powerful engine and the rush of tires on the blacktop. The truck was slowing down.
This wasn’t good. Not one bit.
Please, don’t let this be trouble, she prayed, eyeing the width of the ditch and wondering just how fast she could get through that fence.
She could hear the truck downshift as the driver slowed down to match her pace. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the polished chrome and the white lettering on the new-looking tires. The passenger window lowered.
Alexandra went cold. Did she expect the worst? Or was it simply that old country code of neighborliness that was at work here?
As if in answer, a little girl leaned out the open window and tugged off plastic green sunglasses. “Hi, lady. My dad says I gotta ask if you need a ride.”
At the sight of the blond curls and friendly blue eyes, Alexandra released a breath. She hadn’t realized her chest had been so tight.
It just went to show how traumatized she’d been this last year. And that deep down, she expected the worst—of life and of people.
It wasn’t something she could brush off lightly. If this past year had taught her anything, it was important to stand on her own two feet. To keep from needing anyone. “Thanks for the offer, but I don’t mind walking.”
“That’s what Dad said you’d say, right, Dad?”
“Yep, that’s what I predicted,” answered a molasses-rich voice that sounded very familiar.
On the other side of the little girl, behind the steering wheel, a man tipped his Stetson in her direction. Alexandra recognized that handsome profile and those mile-wide shoulders.
“This has to be more than a coincidence running into you twice in one day.” John Corey shook his head. “I can’t believe this.”
“Neither can I.” She blinked and he was still there. The truck’s door felt steel-cool beneath her fingertips. “I thought you had a store to run. What are you doing out here?”
“Since I’m my own boss, I can close up shop for a few minutes. Folks know to wait or give me a call if it’s an emergency. Hailey, here, spent the morning out at a friend’s place and gave me a call to come pick her up.”
“Yep.” Hailey swiped wayward curls from her eyes, waving her neon-green sunglasses as she talked. “We had a barbecue picnic and potato salad for lunch. I didn’t like the potatoes one bit ’cuz they were the red kind and Stephanie’s mom put in those black rings.”
“Olives,” John informed Alexandra from across the cab. “We’re not olive people. We flick them off our pizza if they get on by mistake. The pizza people hear about it, too.”
“Rightly so.” Not everyone shared her opinion of olives. Okay, so maybe it was all right to let herself like him, just a little. “It’s good to meet you, Hailey. I’m Alexandra.”
John leaned over the steering wheel to get a better look at her. “Alexandra, huh? I couldn’t help noticing your car alongside the road a few miles back. Figured I might come across you on the way to town.”
“You seem awfully sure of yourself. How many women fall for your knight-in-shining-armor act, Mr. Corey?”
“Thousands.”
“None.” Hailey frowned. “My daddy only dates the TV.”
“The what?”
“Now don’t be revealing all my secrets. A man’s relationship with his sports channel
is sacred.” He flushed a little. “Hailey, open the door for the lady. It’s a long walk to town and it’s fixing to rain.”
“I’m not afraid of a little rain,” Alexandra argued, because it had been so long since she’d accepted help from anyone.
Hailey moved back on the seat, as if to make room. “You gotta come with us. It ain’t right to let ladies walk.”
“You said it better than I could.” Leaning past his daughter on the bench seat, John fixed his deep hazel gaze on Alexandra. “Come on aboard. You’ll be perfectly safe with us. If you’re worried at all, I just want to put your mind at ease. My daughter doesn’t bite, and on the off chance she forgets her manners and does, she’s vaccinated.”
“Daddy.” Hailey scowled, scrunching up her freckled nose. “I haven’t done that since last year at Sunday school, and Billy Fields bit me first.”
“See? We’re as trustworthy as can be.”
“Trustworthy, huh?”
“Absolutely.” John reached over and opened the door.
“We got lots of room,” Hailey added.
“You two make it impossible to say no.” It wasn’t as if she was alone with a stranger. Clearly John had a daughter, so that meant he was married, right? A dependable-father type, so she figured she might as well spare herself the long walk to town.
Something wet smacked against her forehead. The first drop of rain. Drops pelted the road and she dodged them by climbing into the cab.
“Looks like we came along just in time.” Keeping his attention on the road, John flicked on the wipers and put the truck in gear. “I told you your car was going to break down. I won’t say I told you so.”
“You don’t have to look happy about it. You were right, but it’s only a cracked hose. Easily fixed.”
“Really? Did you diagnose the problem yourself?”
“Sure. I’ve been on my own for a long time. I’ve had to learn to do minor repairs here and there. It’s no big deal.”
“Let me guess. You’re one of those independent types?”