Stupid tears welled up and my breath caught, because yeah, I didn’t want to leave Joe’s gift, even if she was a hulk right now. I knuckled my eyes. “Okay. We can do that.”
“Have to hustle though. I bet they’re closing soon.”
“On it.” I’d accumulated more than I thought over the past month, but Seth brought in a couple of canvas bags from his truck and we got it all moved out. While I left the key in the office, he confirmed that jumping Tilly didn’t fix her this time.
We pushed, huffing and puffing, Seth reaching through her window to steer, as we worked her out to where Seth could back into place ahead of her bumper. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll get the tow strap placed. We’ll go nice and slow, right? You ride the brakes. Don’t let this old girl run up my truck’s ass.”
“Got it.” I started the flashers, which worked off the battery.
Once we’d hooked Tilly up, I swung into her seat. Seth eased his truck forward. Tilly shuddered, then followed. Being towed was a weird feeling. I tried not to fight the steering and braked with care at each stop sign. We were damned lucky traffic was light and the garage was only three blocks away.
Seth steered us in through their chain-link gate with the ease of a man who’s hauled a hundred trailers and bailers. A man in overalls came out of the open garage door, wiping his hands on his thighs. “Hey, there, we’re closed for the holidays.”
“Hey,” Seth swung out of his truck, his Stetson on and his cowboy drawl deepening as I joined them. “Sorry, I don’t aim to keep you from your family and all. This here truck gave up the ghost and we couldn’t leave ’er. Can I park her with you and give you a deposit, maybe you can look at her next week? No rush.”
The man tilted his head, looking Tilly over. “Not sure it’s worth the bucks to fix.”
“Perhaps not, but she’s done good work for years. Worth a look, and if she’s got to go for scrap, well, so be it. Not even a workin’ truck like that lasts forever.”
I dug my wallet out of my pocket, following his lead. “Here, a hundred bucks to leave her with you and maybe get a first check-up?” I held out cash.
The man hesitated, then took the bills. “Okay, sure. Come on in and leave your info. Does it run at all?”
“Dead as a doornail,” I said, falling into my cheery salesman persona. “She was runnin’ fine just two days ago.”
“Right. Come on inside.”
We went through an exchange of info, I handed over the spare key, and Seth and I helped the garage owner push Tilly into an empty space against the fence.
“You guys make sure she’s cleaned out,” the man said, pocketing the key. “Lock the doors when you’re done. This isn’t the best neighborhood, and I ain’t responsible for any contents.”
“Understood. Merry Christmas.” Seth held out his hand.
“You guys too.” The mechanic shook hands and strode off.
Seth and I did a fast sweep, but I’d brought almost everything inside at the motel. All that was left were some wrappers, bits of trash, and those paper maps. “You want these?” Seth asked.
“Leave ’em in the truck.” Somehow, those maps were part of Tilly and our escape. I couldn’t afford another truck, so I wouldn’t need them without her.
Seth returned them to the door pocket.
As we drove out of the lot, I peered back in the sideview mirror. Tilly didn’t look like much, but leaving her wrenched me inside a little. I was glad Seth had convinced me to move her to safety, even if it cost a hundred of my precious bucks. We turned the corner and I straightened.
Seth glanced at me. “Hour and a half to home.”
I gave him the understatement of my life. “Sounds good.”
Chapter 14
Seth
The Star & Bar sign at the side of the road welcomed us home. Austin had been silent for most of the drive, more so than usual. I didn’t push. I wasn’t sure if he was happy to be heading to the ranch, or worried about his future afterward, or feeling like this was maybe a sign of failure. Like that run-down motel was the best he could do, and it wasn’t good enough.
There was nothing I could think of to silence the worry in his head. All I could do was make my home a safe space for him. Not ask for more than he was willing to give, no matter how greedy I felt about him. I parked the pickup by my cabin in the fading daylight.
When Austin got out, Patch and Ramble came sprinting around the corner of the barn. Both dogs leaped around him, asking for petting. My heart beat kind of funny, watching those dogs so happy to see him. Dogs know when a man’s heart is in the right place.
Austin crouched and rubbed their chests and shoulders and laughed when they licked his face. I fetched his bigger stuffed backpack and the canvas bags out of the back seat while he made a fuss over the dogs. He looked up at me, his eyes bright. “They remembered me.”
