It was hard to get the words out, but I admitted, “This one’s different. I kind of… like her.”
Tucker’s lips curled up into a grin. “Well, ain’t that some shit. Jameson McCall settling down. What’s next? Amos is going to drop down on one knee and propose?”
I gritted my teeth. I liked Amos, but we were nothing alike. He ran towards women, and I normally did everything I could to runfromthem.
“Don’t go spreading it around.” Then I looked off in the distance as though there was something very interesting out there. “We… might have damaged the bed in the cabin. The frame gave out.”
Tucker’s eyebrows shot up toward his hairline. “The historical display bed?”
“Yeah. I’ll come back out this week and fix it. Just wanted to give you a heads up.”
A slow grin spread across Tucker’s face, his eyes darting to where Leah was rummaging through her rental car. “Guess it was a wild storm to ride out.”
I felt heat creep up the back of my neck. “Yeah. Something like that.”
He laughed and clapped me on the shoulder. “I won’t ask questions. Just get the bed fixed before the historical society does their biannual inspection.”
“Thanks, man,” I nodded and headed toward Leah, who was sitting in her car with a frustrated expression on her face.
“It won’t start,” she said, turning the key again. The engine made a weak clicking sound and then nothing. “The cold must have killed the battery.”
“Pop the hood and let me look.”
She did, and I leaned in. The battery terminals were corroded, probably hadn’t been cleaned in years. Typical rental car maintenance. I grabbed a wire brush and some baking soda from my truck’s emergency kit and got to work cleaning the connections while Leah watched.
“You just carry that stuff around with you?” she asked.
“Always.” I scrubbed at the corrosion, knocking loose the crusty buildup. “Never know when you’ll need it.”
“That’s very… prepared of you.”
I glanced up and caught her giving me a big smile that wrinkled the corners of her eyes.
Something in my chest loosened at the sight of it.
She’d be beautiful even when she was an old woman. I could imagine her as a grandma, holding babies on her lap, with that warm smile of hers soothing their troubles away.
After setting up the charging cables between our vehicles, I hopped in my truck and turned it on, revving my engine to give her car some juice.
That woman had managed to get under my hard, cold heart somehow. I wasn’t the kind of man who daydreamed about babies and grandmas.
My eyes hooded over. I hadn’t evenknownmy grandparents.
My little sis and I had just grown up with our mom and dad. A tiny part of my newly formed heart clenched at the thought of it.
What would my life have been like if I’d had some grandparents around? Or even an aunt or an uncle? Someone who didn’t have fighting in their veins?
“Try it now,” I grunted.
She turned the key, and the engine roared to life.
“You’re amazing. Seriously, is there anything you can’t do?”
“Plenty of things.” I closed the hood and wiped my hands on my pants. “But cars and campfires aren’t on that list.”
We stood there in the morning sunlight, the engines of our vehicles idling, and time stretched between us.
It was our last moment together. Our final goodbye.
