“Thank you so much, young lady,” she said, while Pepé, a fluffy white little thing, sniffed Kalista’s sandals. “I’m so glad you delivery people take the time to bring this to my doorstep. I’ve got a bad hip, and it can be difficult for me to walk all the way to the end of my driveway.
“You’re welcome.” An unfamiliar yet pleasant feeling came over her. She smiled and went back to her truck.
She didn’t bother to turn on the radio since she couldn’t get a decent station anyway. Britney Spears was already in her head, and she sang along as she continued her route, feeling completely unbothered and still happy after Mrs. Joyce had thanked her.
The truck lurched. Sputtered. Then completely stopped.
“What the...” She turned the key. Nothing. She put the truck in Park, then back in Drive. Still nothing. “Don’t tell me this piece of junk is broken down... Uh-oh.” She looked at the gas tank. The red pointer was aimed straight at the capitalE.
She clutched the steering wheel. How could she run out of gas? Back home her father had a chauffeur who took care of filling up all their cars, but she still had to get her own gas if she was out and about. Checking the tank hadn’t even been on her radar.
Now she was stuck in the mountains with no phone and happened to be at that one part of her route where there was nobody close by.
Her throat started to close.I’m gonna die... I’m gonna die...
A more rational voice took over. “Don’t be stupid,” she muttered. Didn’t she pass by a cabin a short while back? She got out of the truck, locked it, then walked back the way she came. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been walking, but the sun had risen a little higher in the sky, making it easier to see. When she came upon thesmall honey-colored cabin, she almost fainted with relief. There was a car in the driveway too. Hooray!
She knocked on the door. Knocked again when no one answered it. Then a third time. Were they sleeping? Or not even home? That panicky feeling returned.
The door suddenly opened, and a tall man appeared. “Kalista?”
“Logan! You have no idea how glad I am to see you.” Weird that he was here on her route, but there was no time to dwell. “I ran out of gas.”
“I didn’t know you lived around here.”
“I don’t. See, I was delivering the paper.” She shook her head, still a little embarrassed by her job. “Whatever. Do you have any gas?”
“Sorry, I don’t. And I’m kind of in a hurry. Is there anyone you can call?”
She nodded. “Mr. Hudson.”
Logan nodded and let her in the cabin. “You work forThe Clementine Times? Cool. Seb’s your boss then.”
Kalista frowned. “How do you know him?”
“This is his cabin.”
He had a cabin? When she walked inside, she was impressed. He must make a decent amount of money to afford a place like this. She was also struck by how tidy it was, considering the messy state of his office.
“Phone’s in the kitchen.” Logan went to the couch, where a small pile of clothing was next to a large backpack. He picked up a shirt and rolled it up.
Kalista took the receiver off the hook and dialedThe Times. Viv had suggested she memorize the number just in case she got into trouble on her route. At the time, Kalista thought that was a stupid idea. What could possibly happen?Lesson learned.She let thephone ring and looked at the microwave clock. Six thirty. Too early for Mr. Hudson to be there.
After a few seconds, she almost hung up. She didn’t want to bother Viv at this hour because of her own stupidity, but she might have to.
“Clementine Times.”
“Tyler! It’s Kalista!”
“Oh.”
She ignored his bland tone and quickly explained what happened. “I’m at Mr. Hudson’s cabin. Logan’s here—”
“Who’s Logan?”
“Jade’s brother.”
“Ms. Smith?”
