“Make it quick. We need to get going.”
A few minutes later, Maddie followed Sky out the door. “Think Ole Blue will start today?”
Her daughter’s question mirrored the one making Sky’s anxiety soar. The old Taurus teetered on the edge of done-for, and there was no money to fix it. “Keep your fingers crossed.”
The brisk November air cut through her lightweight jacket as they hurried to the car. It wasn’t locked since no one in their right mind would want the beat-up old clunker. Once behind the wheel, she said a silent prayer and turned the key.
Nothing. Not even a click.
She gnawed her lower lip. No, no, no. Please…not this.
She tried again.
Silence.
“What’s wrong, Mama?”
She stifled a groan. “I’m not sure—battery maybe.”
“Do we have another one of those?”
“No. We don’t.” Consumed with dread, she unbuckled the seat belt. “Stay put. Let me take a look.” Like I have a bloody clue what to look for or could fix the damn thing if I did.
Her stomach threatened to purge its meager contents of toast and coffee. Please, God, please. Give me a break. Just one small break. That’s all I ask.
She propped open the hood and peered inside. Yep. There’s the motor and the little oil thingy. There’s the doo-hickey I put window washer fluid in before it sprung a leak. Yep. It’s all there. Now what?
“Something wrong, ma’am?”
Startled, she squealed and jumped back into the rock-solid wall of a man. Strong hands clamped around her waist kept her upright.
“Sorry, ma’am. Didn’t mean to startle you.”
His warm breath washed over her cheek. She twisted around and found herself face to chest with Max Logan. She jerked her gaze upward, chilled body sucking the heat radiating from him like a sponge.
“Ma’am? Are you okay?”
The intensely male voice penetrated the stupor robbing her of speech, and she stepped back. “Y-yes. I’m fine. You just surprised me.”
He nodded toward the car. “Won’t start?”
“No, and I have no idea why.”
“Mind if I try?” He folded his huge frame in the front seat without waiting for a reply, only to exit a moment later. “Battery’s dead.” He walked toward his shiny new F-150 crew cab parked a little farther up the narrow drive.
It took a moment to process what had just happened. Okay. He tried to crank the car, it wouldn’t start, and he just walked off. What the heck? “Well, um, okay. Thanks for trying.”
Before she finished the sentence, the huge engine roared to life, and he backed up. Once even with her car, he got out with the motor still running and pulled long, thick wires from behind his seat.
Jumper cables? Maybe. I think.
Once he had them connected to each vehicle, he looked at her. Didn’t say a word. Just stared.
She stared back.
One bushy brow kicked up.
Duh. Crank the car, you idiot.
Slow to respond, Blue did, finally, thankfully, start.
He waited a moment, then unhooked the cables and moved to the driver’s side. “Where are you going?”
His question was gruff, and she bristled, about to tell him none of his business, but her mother’s ancient speech about manners stifled the impulse. And he did crank her car. And was a good tipper. “I have to take Maddie to school.”
“How long will that take?”
She gritted her teeth. “Twenty minutes.”
“Don’t kill it, or it won’t start again.”
You could’ve started with that statement. “Oh. Okay. Thank you, um, Mr. Logan, I—”
“Max. No mister.” Hands braced on his hips, the inquest continued. “Are you working today?”
“No. I’m off every other Friday.”
“Honk when you get back, and I’ll hook up a battery charger. But you’ll probably need to replace it soon. It’s old, and cold weather is hard on them.”
