But that’s okay today. I’m here to help.
“That happens to the best of us,” I say gently. “Why don’t I take a look for you? I’ve got oil for my truck. But if you need something else, it might be safer to get a tow into town and my brother?—”
“Oh no,” she says quickly. Too quickly, and it’s that same nervous race to get ahead of me. “Thanks, but we’re—I’m not heading into town.”
With a car that’s overheating on a warm spring day, she’s not going anywhere else, either.
“If you’d rather, I can call a mechanic to come out here?”
Hot spots burst high on her cheekbones.
She really is very beautiful, even if she’s skittish. She can’t be much past twenty-two, twenty-three. A decade younger than me, give or take—too young for me, even if she isn’t married. Another reason not to covet her.
I don’t see a wedding ring on her hand.
“You got any family who could help?”
She shakes her head fiercely, those wild waves flying like fire. She’s magnetic. I couldn’t look away if I wanted to, and I really don’t want to.
Jesus. I look at her mouth again and my thoughts go somewhere they shouldn’t. Exactly the reaction a woman in her situation does not need from a stranger twice her size on an empty road. I think about my mother, and the heat in my blood goes cold.
Well, fuck.
“Uh, look.” I take a step back and keep my hands where she can see them, to show her I’m no threat. “I’m the second oldest of four boys, and we were raised by a single mom. And she would kick my—” I glance past her to the little girl now payingveryclose attention to our conversation, “my behind if I told her I left a woman and child with a napping car when our family could have offered help. But you can decide what type of help you need. My name is Zane, by the way. My ranch is at the end of this road.”
“I’m Bellamy,” the little girl offers, drawing out her name in a sing song voice.
“Shhh,” her mom says.
“I don’t have the best memory,” I say to Bellamy, even though there’s no chance I’m going to forget her or that green frog. A little white lie to make her mama feel better. “So you’ll have to forgive me if I forget your names after I finish helping your mom.”
“Her name is?—”
“Bellamy!” The mother drags in a frustrated breath.
We all go quiet.
“I’m sorry, Bella,” she whispers.
“It’s okay, Mommy.” Bellamy bounces the frog at her.
I wait.
“I’m Hope,” she finally says. No last name offered. “I know the car needs some work, but I don’t have any money. It’s been fine if I drive for a few hours, and then take a break.”
Fuck. That’s not a sustainable plan.
“If you’re in some trouble?—”
“No.” Her cheeks blaze red. “Please just forget about us.”
I can tell her I will, because I can see she needs to hear that. I probably knew that on some level even before she made it explicit. But I won’t forget this woman who stands up to me even though I might be her worst nightmare, a big tall guy coming out of nowhere.
I pull out my wallet, ignoring how much I want to talk her into my truck. Her, the girl, and the frog. Drive them down the road to the ranch and deal with the fallout later.
I’ve offered help, though, and she’s turned it down. Repeatedly.
I’ve got two hundred bucks in cash. It might not fix everything that’s wrong with her car, but it’s enough to get her in the door at a garage. Hopefully Cash’s garage. And if he under-bills her for the total work, she doesn’t need to know that. “Here. Take this and stop at the garage in town. Get them to check your fluid levels and top it up. I’ll make sure that nobody saw you if anyone asks.”
