“I can tow it in for you.”
She shook her head. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t want to bother you.”
She bothered him more than she could possibly know. “I carry everything I ever need in my toolbox, including a heavy tow chain. Unfortunately, I don’t have a tow bar, but that only means you’ll have to steer the vehicle and tap the brake when necessary so you don’t rear-end me. Think you can do that?”
She folded her arms at her waist. And a very slender waist it was. When she wore a uniform, which was most of the time, her attractive figure was buried under loose-fitting clothing, and her waistline was bulked up by a belt loaded with cop paraphernalia. Today, dressed in feminine attire suitable for a backyard wedding and reception, she looked good enough to make a man’s mouth go dry. And that was his whole problem with her. He couldn’t be around her without wanting to taste that kissable mouth of hers—and other parts of her as well.
“I can do that, yes. But, like I just said, I don’t want to be a bother.” She rested a slender hand on Domino’s head, her fingertips absently stroking his silken fur.
“No bother. I’m making a grocery run for the bunkhouse, so I’m going into town anyway. I’ll drop your car off at the Timing Light and then give you a lift home.”
“It’s Sunday,” she said. “Buck won’t be there.”
“He has a drop box for car keys. You can just lock up the Honda, drop your keys through the slot, and then give him a call in the morning to get an estimate.”
“An estimate won’t be necessary. That’s the only auto repair shop in town. Taking the car into Crystal Falls for competitive bids would cost so much that any money I saved would be wiped out by towing fees.”
Wyatt couldn’t argue the point. He placed a hand on the side of the truck box and vaulted into the bed, landing on his feet. Without glancing back at Erin, he opened the lid of his diamond-plate toolbox, grabbed the tow chain, which lay at the top because he used it often on the ranch, and then leaped back onto the roadway. “I’ll pull around and get in front,” he told her.
“I really don’t need a tow. I’ve got this.”
Wyatt was reminded of the first time he met Erin. She’d been just as stubborn about accepting his help then as she was now, and he responded with almost the same answer. “The boss won’t be happy if I leave you stranded out here.”
Her chin came up a notch. “It’s not exactly remote here. Dozens of cars will be returning to town on this road in a matter of minutes.”
“Exactly. And every single driver will see that I drove right past you.”
“I’ll tell them you offered to help and I declined.”
“Why not just accept the tow?” he pressed. “It’s a favor between friends.”
“We aren’t friends. You make no secret of the fact that you don’t like me. Now that I’ve made friends with Doreen at dispatch and get time off, I can finally visit the ranch more often, and whenever I do, you vanish as if I have a contagious disease.”
Wyatt knew he was guilty as charged. But he didn’t steer clear of her because he disliked her. The truth was that he liked her too much. “Whenever you visit, I’m on the clock. On any given day, I have a list of stuff to get done that’s as long as my arm. I don’t deliberately avoid you. I’m just busy.”
Her expression told him she wasn’t buying that. “Look,” he went on. “Whether I like you or whether you like me isn’t the point. Your uncle is my employer, and he’ll be pissed at me if I don’t lend you a hand. I need to keep my job, if it’s all the same to you.”
A subtle slump of her shoulders told him he’d won this round. “Oh, all right,” she said with a flap of her wrist. “I’ll let you tow the car into town, but only because I don’t want to cause any trouble between you and Uncle Slade.”
Wyatt didn’t care what her reasons were, only that she’d finally accepted his help.
* * *
* * *
Erin had taken high-speed driving courses as a law enforcement officer, which had led her to believe she could handle a car in almost any situation. But getting behind the wheel of a broken-down vehicle was a whole different kettle of fish. The power steering didn’t work with the engine dead, making the wheel difficult to turn. The brakes were also spongy, requiring more pressure on the pedal to engage them. On top of that, dust billowed up from the back of Wyatt’s rig, making her range of visibility about a foot in front of her nose. The interior of the Honda grew uncomfortably warm. Even if she’d been able to roll down the windows, which she couldn’t without power, she would have been breathing in dirt. As glad as she was not to be riding with Wyatt, she was exhausted and sweating by the time they reached the Timing Light.
Eager to escape the stuffy car, Erin opened her door and climbed out, fanning her face with one hand.
“You okay?” Wyatt asked.
“Just a little too warm. It’s not really that hot today, but when you’re inside a black car with the windows rolled up, it gets uncomfortable pretty fast.”
“Ah. I’m sorry. I’ll turn on the AC when I drive you home.”
Erin locked her car, located Buck’s drop box, slipped her keys inside, and turned to face Wyatt again, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible. “I’m ready.”
“Where’s your purse?” he asked.
Erin clenched her teeth. “Darn it! I forgot it in the car.” Frustration welled within her. She’d started carrying a handbag only months ago, and it hadn’t become an ingrained habit yet. She thought she saw Wyatt struggling to hold back a smile. “It’s not funny.”
“Anything important in it that you can’t do without until morning?”
“My cell phone. I have to have it with me at all times in case there’s an emergency at the sheriff’s department.”
He shifted his weight onto one booted foot and rested his hands on his narrow hips. The stance made him look every inch a cowboy. Until meeting him, Erin hadn’t found western attire attractive on a man, but now she did. That was just one more reason for her to resent Wyatt Fitzgerald. He messed with her head, making her look at things differently and analyze her reactions.
“Well,” he said in that slow, thoughtful way of his. “I can probably jimmy a door lock if you won’t make me your prime suspect the next time a car is broken into on Main.”
Erin rolled her eyes. In Mystic Creek, a car was robbed only about once a year, and the most likely suspect would be a teenage boy. “Of course I won’t.”
He jumped back into the bed of his pickup, which sent a shiver up her spine. He emanated strength and masculinity in everything he did. Plus, he was too handsome for words. Only a blind woman would fail to find him attractive. If she polled all the adult females in Mystic Creek, she’d probably learn that more than half of them felt flutters in their stomachs when they encountered him on the street.
When he jumped back to the ground, he held a flat piece of metal in his hand. There was a similar device in each of the county vehicles that Erin drove. She’d used one more than once to unlock cars for people who’d accidentally locked their keys inside.
Within seconds, Wyatt had her car opened. He grabbed her purse, relocked the door, and strode toward his truck. “Let’s roll out,” he called to her.
Domino greeted Erin with a face wash as she climbed into the cab of the pickup. She sputtered but didn’t scold the dog. As she settled on the seat and struggled to fasten her safety belt, she endured an ear wash as well. Wyatt glanced over to see if she was buckled up and collared the dog.
“Stop that, Domino!”
When the animal sat between them and faced forward, Wyatt pressed the ignition button. The diesel engine rumbled to life. He shifted into drive, stepped on the accelerator, and the next instant, Erin heard a loud thump followed by a lurch of the truck as it jerked to a sudden stop. She was thrown forward. All that stopped her
from colliding with the dash was the strap across her chest, which flattened her left breast with crushing force and sent pain lancing over her rib cage.
“Damn it!” Wyatt shifted back into park, jerked out of his seat belt, and threw open his door. “I forgot to disconnect the chain from your car.” He swung out of the cab, strode to the back of his truck, and let loose with more curses. Erin had a bad feeling and got out of the vehicle. The front of her Honda was crunched like tinfoil. “Son of a bitch!” he said. “You left it in neutral?”
Erin bristled. “Oh, so it’s all my fault?”
He swept off his hat, raked his fingers through his blond hair, and then slapped the Stetson back on his head. “I’m not saying it’s your fault. I take full responsibility. It’s just that the car wouldn’t have rolled forward if you’d put it in park and set the brake.”
“No, it wouldn’t have,” she agreed. “Instead of the front end getting crunched, you could have just jerked the subframe out from under it and twisted it into a pretzel shape.”
He sighed. “I’m sorry, Erin. I’ll pay to get it fixed.”
Erin didn’t know why, but she started to laugh. It really wasn’t funny. Repairing the damage would probably cost five or six grand. But the expression on his face, a mixture of incredulity and frustration, was priceless. She placed a hand over her chest, which still hurt.
“I don’t get the joke,” he said. “I just ruined your car.”
“I think Buck does body work” was all she could think to say. “And he advertises on the radio that he offers payment plans. I’ll get it fixed and make monthly installments.”
“I can’t let you pay for the damage. I’m the one who did it.”
“While trying to help me. And, as you pointed out, I was at fault for not remembering to put it back into park. I can’t let you take the financial hit.”
“We’ll share the cost, then.”
Erin decided that was an argument that could take place later. “We’ll talk about it. Okay? For right now, I’d like to get home and make some phone calls. Maybe Sheriff Adams will lend me a county vehicle for a week or so. Otherwise I’ll have to rent a car. I live too far out to walk back and forth to work if the weather turns bad.”
“In spring, that’s a given. And now, thanks to me, you’ll probably be without wheels for longer than a week. Maybe closer to two.” He spun on his heel and strode toward the front of his truck. “Okay. Let’s get you home.”
“Wyatt?” Even as she said his name, Erin wanted to groan. The man was profoundly deaf and couldn’t hear her even if she screamed. Running along the opposite side of the truck bed and waving her arms to get his attention, she got him to stop just before he reached the driver’s door. His gaze became riveted to her face. “The chain, Wyatt? You still haven’t unhooked it.”
* * *
* * *
Wyatt could not believe that he’d forgotten to detach the chain from Erin’s car, not once, but twice. Being around the woman screwed with his brain. He never made stupid mistakes like that. If he had, Slade would have fired him years ago. But around Erin, he became a dimwit, so aware of her on a physical level that his thoughts bounced around inside his head like lottery balls in a blower machine. He needed to deliver her to her cottage, tell her goodbye, and get away from her before he did something else stupid. As it was, she probably thought his IQ was lower than the winter room temperature of a poor man’s house.
Disgusted with himself and unable to talk while he drove, he turned on the sound system, which he never used. She gave a violent start, and Domino started to bark, which Wyatt knew only because the dog’s front feet parted company with the leather seat each time he emitted a woof. Wyatt quickly turned off the stereo.
“What?” he asked as he fixed his gaze on Erin.
“The volume is way up,” she said. “So loud it almost burst my eardrums.”
“You turn it on, then,” he suggested.
She shook her head. “I’m good. Not in the mood for music.”
Wyatt wasn’t in a mood for small talk. “I can’t read your lips while I’m driving.” He flicked his gaze back to the road. “It’d be just as dangerous as texting.” He didn’t know if she agreed, disagreed, or said nothing, and he wasn’t about to pay less attention to the road in order to watch her lips. After messing up her car by making a stupid mistake, all the day needed was for him to have a wreck. “I thought music might compensate for the lack of conversation.”
He stared straight ahead. It seemed to him that tension electrified the air. He mostly drove with only his brother as a passenger. With Erin, it was different.
He felt relieved when they passed the city limits and entered Mystic Creek. He drove to the town center and took the roundabout. He saw Blackie, the pawnshop owner, and Ma Thomas, who owned Simply Sensational, standing by the water feature, chatting up a storm.
When he reached the turnoff for Mystic Creek Lane, he took a sharp right. He’d never been to Erin’s rental cottage, but Slade had told him where she lived, in a small, white cottage that backed up to the creek. He figured he could find it easily enough, and just following his nose would be far less trouble than asking Erin for directions. He’d have to pull over in order to know what she was saying.
She lived about halfway up the lane. The cottage sat well back from the road, a smallish structure with a picket fence. No garage. It was smaller than all the other houses they’d passed, and it was sorely in need of fresh paint. It did have a nice, covered veranda out front, though, and would have been cute with a few improvements and some landscaping. He knew firsthand that Erin hadn’t gotten much time off until a few months ago, and by then, the inclement weather and deep snow had prevented even a die-hard gardener from working outside.
He pulled into the driveway and turned off the ignition. “Right place?”
She looked over at him. “Yes, and I’m wondering how you drove straight to it.”
“Your uncle told me where you live.”
“When?”
Wyatt frowned. “I don’t know. A while back.”
“Amazing. Directions to my house are engraved on your brain, but you forgot to unhook the tow chain twice.”
He bit down hard on his back teeth. She’d already given him a pass on the car debacle, so he knew she wasn’t pissed at him about that. If she was still upset because he hadn’t given her his undivided attention at the wedding reception, then she would just have to get over it. A man was either attracted to a woman or he wasn’t, and he owed Erin no further explanation. That was it, in a nutshell, at least on the surface, and as far as he was concerned, she could put her own spin on it.
“Thank you for the ride home,” she said. “I really appreciate it.”
“Smashed-up car and all?”
She shrugged, grabbed her purse, and opened the passenger door. “It was an accident.” She turned to scratch Domino between the ears. “Goodbye, sweet boy.”
After jumping from the truck, she slammed the door behind her with such force that Wyatt almost believed he heard the bang upon impact. He didn’t, of course. With the AC running to keep her comfortable, he’d rolled up all the windows, and he’d only felt a push of air pressure and vibration. She walked straight to her porch, up the steps, and to her front door without looking back at him. He sat there until she was safely inside. Then he reversed his truck out of her drive and headed toward town. He purposely didn’t look back, either. He did allow himself one glance into his rearview mirror, but if she was watching, she’d never know he had.
He released a taut breath and tried to relax. But his encounter with Erin had his nerves rubbed raw. She wasn’t an easy person to figure out. He’d given her every opportunity to be a complete shrew when he tore up the front of her car, and she had given him a bit of a hard time, but she’d drawn the line at his offer to pay for all the damage. Damn it. How could he
continue to give her the brush-off when she could be bitchy only to a certain point before her inherent sense of fair play took over?
“Don’t look at me like that,” he told his dog. “I know you really like her. So do I! But here’s the thing, Domino. We guys can’t let our dicks overrule our brains.”
* * *
* * *
Erin’s little house smelled of the potato salad and deviled eggs she’d made last night for the wedding reception. One whiff reminded her that she’d left what remained of the food in the trunk of her car. By the time she could return to get it, the Honda might stink to high heaven. She cut through the living area to the kitchen, which boasted a cute bay window that overlooked the creek. That alcove and the recently renovated master suite were her favorite features of the house. After plopping her handbag on the oak tabletop, she struggled against an urge to cry. Instead of giving in to it, she went to the adjoining guest bathroom to stare at herself in the vanity mirror. She took in her dark hair, her blue eyes, her facial features, and what she could see of her upper body.
“What’s so wrong with me?” she asked her image. “Am I that unattractive? And even if that’s true, am I such an awful person that he can’t even be friendly?”
Erin knew it was silly to be so hurt, but she was. She felt like a teenage girl who’d crushed on a boy and been rejected. Well, she didn’t really know how that felt, she supposed. Growing up under her father’s thumb, she’d never had time to notice boys in that way. She’d been too busy trying to compete with them in sports in order to please her dad.
Erin pushed all of that from her mind, squeezed her eyes closed, and burst into tears. When she’d cried herself out, she fished her phone out of her purse and speed-dialed her best friend, Julie.
“Hello. I’m barely in the door from the wedding, girlfriend, and wearing only one shoe. After walking around on that grass in high heels, my feet are killing me and I can’t get the torture devices off fast enough.”
Huckleberry Lake Page 2
