They’d made a bargain, but he could find a way around that. Troy was coming out for a few hours Sunday—he could fix the truck then which would release her from having to go out with him. Surely Mr. Martin would allow Troy to borrow a bay on a Sunday afternoon when the shop was normally shut down.
With his course of action figured out, he dialed his mom and asked for a ride to the ranch. She said she was at Dove’s Grocery, buying the ingredients for his favorite chili, and would be there soon.
He pocketed his phone and stared down the empty road, feeling a sense of loss he couldn’t explain. He’d come to Snow Valley to find himself. So why did the idea of not seeing Ronnie again make his insides feel emptier than spending the evening staring at quarterly reports?
Chapter 5
Ronnie went back to the shop at closing time to work on Grady’s Dodge. The guys trickled out of the building as they finished up their projects. Virgil lifted a hand to wave goodbye. That was the most anyone who wasn’t his grandson got out of him. Ronnie waved back with a smile. They’d had a guy quit a week ago. So far, the work load wasn’t overwhelming, but they’d need to hire someone soon, or the crew would feel put-upon.
“Do you want some help with the Dodge?” Dad asked. He adjusted the stained ball cap that covered the bald spot on the back of his head.
“Sure,” she grinned mischievously, “A wise old man once told me not to turn down free help.”
Dad narrowed his eyes. “You call me old again and you’ll be cleaning the stock room with a toothbrush, girlie.”
Ronnie laughed as she snatched Grady’s keys out of a cubby and hurried to the parking lot. She stopped a few feet in front of the vehicle, tipping her head this way and that. Grady had a really pretty truck. Not that she’d say pretty to his face when describing his 350 extended cab with chrome plating and a lift kit. No. To him she’d say it was a sick ride. She shook her head. You could put a girl in the shop, but you couldn’t take the girl out of the mechanic.
She climbed in and turned the key to wait for the glow plugs to warm. Besides the smell from the smoke earlier, she detected a manly scent. Maybe body spray or cologne. Grady wasn’t the type of guy to wear cologne on a daily basis. Body spray then. She breathed deep, trying to memorize the smell. There was a soda cup from a gas station in the cup holder, papers on the passenger seat, and two jackets in the back seat. The floor had bits of dirt, but the dash was dust free.
The indicator light for the glow plugs clicked off and she turned the key, shuddering at the groaning and screeching that came from under the hood. The engine’s smell was sweet and smoky with tang. With great care, she maneuvered the truck into the bay and climbed down. There was something intimate about driving a guy’s truck. She’d have to really be in love with a man to let him drive her Pontiac. Like, dedicated for eternity kind of love.
She shook her head again. Here she was getting all moony-eyed over driving Grady’s truck, and there was work to do. Grady wasn’t letting her drive because he was into her; he let her drive because he had no choice if he wanted his truck fixed. His stunned and confused expression hadn’t gone unnoticed. She tried not to think about how he had wanted to cancel their date as she climbed into the pit to get a good look under the truck.
Dad came out of the supply room with several canisters. He may be a sharp businessman who turned a tidy profit, but he was an honest one, and he wouldn’t send a truck out of his garage that wasn’t road-ready.
Ronnie reached up to check the hose connections. Dad poured antifreeze into the reservoir. Ronnie kicked a bucket into place in case there was a leak. She put her hands on her hips and watched.
“I’m going to have a word with Troy about this mechanic.” Dad’s voice echoed through the engine and down into the concrete box where Ronnie watched for moisture. “He’s not worth a day’s pay if he sent Grady off without antifreeze.”
“I think Grady’s on it. He didn’t seem too happy when I picked him up off the side of the road.” A small green drop landed in the bucket. “Okay, hold up. I’ve got the leak.” She pinched off the tube. “Can you get me a hose?”
A few minutes later Dad passed a black rubber hose under the driver’s side of the truck. “You don’t make a habit of picking up men on the side of the road, do you?” Dad asked. All Ronnie could see were his big black work boots and frayed coveralls, but she could imagine the concern furrowed across his brow.
“Only if they have chain saws and machetes.” She waited to see how much liquid gathered in the bucket. If there was a lot, she’d wait for the radiator to drain. If not, she’d pinch the hose and get to work.
“See, I don’t know if you’re kidding or not.”
“Dad! I saw the logo.” She tapped the oil pan with her knuckle. “For a minute, I thought it was Troy.” Of course, if it was Troy, he would have had the hood up and had the problem fixed before she turned on her blinker. Her older brother could have been the one to work alongside Dad every day, but there was a hunger in him to prove he could build his own business.
“Good. He’s coming to town this weekend.”
Grady hadn’t said a word about Troy. Then again, she hadn’t given him much time to talk about her brother before taking off. “Why?”
“He and Grady are hauling a bunch of cattle to auction for Grady’s dad.”
“Oh.” That, Grady had told her. Well, at least that he was here to help his dad. The auction was Tuesday, so he’d be in town for a few days. That was good, except having Troy around with Grady might put a damper on things—like the thing between her and his best friend. Grady had switched from calling her pretty to calling her little sister the moment he walked into the shop. She planned to change him back to thinking pretty when he picked her up tomorrow night, but if Troy was anywhere near them, that would make it difficult for Grady to forget she was the little sister.
“Listen, Ronnie …”
“Yeah?” She unhooked the old hose on one end and let the liquid fall into the bucket. The flow slowed to a drip, and she took the hose all the way off.
The boots shuffled. “You know I don’t like you living by yourself in those condos.”
“I know.” She worked the new hose into place.
“You’re being smart, right? Staying safe.”
“Yeah, Dad. I only do drug deals before dark now.”
“I’m not joking around here!” Dad half-shouted.
She could just see the red creeping up his neck. “I promise, I’m being safe.”
“’Kay. You let me know if a guy tries something.”
“You’ll be the first one I call.” She couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice that time.
Dad missed it completely. “You’re not going to believe this.”
“What?”
“The water pump is shot.”
“What?” She scrambled out to take a look. Sure enough, when she wiggled the water pump pulley, it jiggled like a bowl of banana pudding. “That’s just fand-diddlie-tastic.” She threw the rag on the ground. They’d have to take off the timing cover to replace the part, and that would mean the truck had to stay here for a couple days.
Dad cleaned his hands with one of the rags they always had floating around the shop. Candace gathered them up and washed them as needed. “We’ll have to order the part. Should be here Monday.”
Ronnie chewed her lip. The water pump she could handle. But if the truck wasn’t fixed, Grady could claim she hadn’t upheld her part of the bargain and break their date. “Has Candace left?” she asked Dad.
“I don’t think so.”
Ronnie bolted for the reception area. Candace was running a credit card for Chet Bauer. He was a few years older than Ronnie and had taken over his dad’s ranch a couple years back.
“Hey, Chet. How’s Mercedes?” Chet’s wife volunteered on some of the same church service projects as Ronnie. She’d recently announced that they were expecting their first baby.
“She’s doing great. Between her an
d her sister ordering baby supplies, we’ll have enough for twins.”
Ronnie pointed at him. “Don’t jinx yourself.”
Chet smiled easily. “I’m not. I’d take ’em two at a time, every time.”
Ronnie raised both her eyebrows. Mercedes’s morning sickness had about done her in. “I’m going to be nice and not tell Mercedes you said that.”
He tucked the receipt into his wallet. “I’d appreciate that. I’ll see you guys around.”
“Bye.” As soon as the door shut, Ronnie rounded on Candace. “I need you to call Grady and tell him his truck won’t be ready till Monday. Be sure to tell him that there was a leak, but I fixed it.”
“Uh-huh.” Candace ripped off the credit card slip and laid it on the counter in a pile of receipts. She would make sure the totals matched before going home.
“Candace, did you get me?”
“Yeah.” She leaned closer to the screen, the glare reflecting off her perfect skin.
Ronnie pressed. “Make sure he knows I fixed it.”
“Okay. Sheesh. You fixed it. Congratulations.”
“But don’t make it obvious that you’re saying I did it.”
Candace turned around so very deliberately. “Are you into him?” She lifted just one eyebrow. “I saw the way you leaned into him when you two walked in.” She wagged her eyebrows. “He didn’t seem to mind too much—if you catch my drift.”
Ronnie folded her arms and leaned onto the counter, acting like a five-year-old. “I want to marry him and have his babies and—”
Candace held up her hand. “You don’t have to get snarky.”
Ronnie quickly explained. “We have a bet going.”
“I got your back.” Candace offered her a fist and Ronnie bumped it. “Kick his trash, sister.”
Ronnie pulled her fist away and made an explosion sound.
“Excuse me,” said an older woman with hair so white it hurt to look at it. “My car is chugging every time I try to start it.”
Ronnie walked away and left that one to Candace, who would put it on the schedule for tomorrow. One more car to take care of before she could leave for her date tomorrow night. If she didn’t get off in time to get ready, Grady wouldn’t be thinking pretty when he saw her; he’d be thinking oil spill.
Candace thought she was teasing when Ronnie said that about getting married and having Grady’s babies, but Ronnie couldn’t deny that the thought had crossed her mind. Not so much the babies part, but the married part. That was a major theme in her daydreams all afternoon—had been since she was twelve and saw the pictures from Grady’s prom. Grady looked good in a tux. She grinned. He looked good in a hoodie too. He would look great in her living room, on her couch, pressing his lips against hers …
“Ronnie!” Dad yelled over a grinding transmission. “Can you bring me the tool cart?”
“You bet.” She rolled the heavy cart over to where Dad was working. The back wheel squeaked, and the idea that she was putting the cart before the horse by jumping into vows and veils came to mind.
No more daydreams about I do’s and wedding shoes. She needed to focus on getting Grady to see her as a possible date before he would ever see her as a bride. That’s what the one-date deal was all about. She’d followed through on her end, fixing the hose, and she’d change out the water pump, too, as soon as the part came in. She prayed Grady would follow through on his end of the deal, because she had a feeling that once they had a chance to connect, his hesitation would melt. She was really looking forward to what was on the other side of his reluctance.
Chapter 6
Friday was a busy day at the shop. Seemed like all of Snow Valley put off oil changes and maintenance work until they were leaving town or making the trek into Billings for the weekend. Ranchers, house wives, moms, dads, guys in suits and women in slacks, filled the plastic chairs in the waiting room throughout the day, and their trucks filled the parking lot, spilling onto the street.
“We need another bay,” Ronnie said to Dad. She’d come in at six to get a jump start on the workload, and it was a good thing she did. At the rate work drove up to their doors, she would have been here till midnight.
Dad lifted both palms. “And where would you like me to put it?”
She shrugged. Dad said the same thing every time Ronnie complained about the cramped space. If they had one, even two more bays, they could get their work done in half the time. One day, she’d put in an express lube lane. A place dedicated to oil changes and routine maintenance.
Dad was right; their plot was hardly big enough for the building and parking lot, and they didn’t have money to buy the lot next to them. Not with the shop supporting Dad, Ronnie, and Candace. After Dad retired, she’d be able to expand. But she wasn’t pushing his retirement. Having him here, working side-by-side, knowing he had her back—priceless.
A few hours later, she replaced the dipstick on the Ford Taurus and wiped her hands on a rag. “That’s the last one for me. I’m going home.”
“See you tomorrow for church?” Dad called from under a Chevy.
“Wouldn’t miss it.” She peeled off her coveralls and hung them on the peg before heading home. Cutting off Main Street and heading toward the hospital where she’d bought a condo, Ronnie checked the time on the dash. “Ten minutes late. Could be worse.” She threw off her seatbelt and bolted towards her door.
Several older couples or widows moved in soon after the buildings went up, but there had been an influx of twenty- and thirty-year-olds over the last six months. She’d heard that Paisley, the manager for the Iron Stix, had lived there before the band went big. Grady had noticed the changes. Snow Valley was growing. As people grew up, they wanted to stay. Staying meant they needed housing and unless your last name was Snow, being able to buy twenty acres wasn’t an option.
Ronnie’s muscles released the work tension they’d held in the second she stepped through the door. The condo was hers, as long as she continued to make the payments on time, and she loved it.
Ronnie had decorated her space for herself—not waiting around for some guy to come into her life. She figured if she got married and he had a problem with the paint, they’d talk. One living room wall was raspberry pink, and the bathroom was aqua. Her bedroom was light gray with teal and raspberry accents. The kitchen had black countertops and white cabinets, and there was white trim throughout. She’d bought white plates with a thick black rim around the edges. The place was “girly,” but she needed a girl cave to come home to after spending the day with a bunch of sweaty guys.
She spent the next twenty minutes meticulously cleaning her hands. All the mechanics’ hands were black—even after they washed them. It was an occupational hazard. But, if she scrubbed hard enough, with the right detergent, she could be presentable. She showered and washed her hair with coconut oil shampoo that smelled like a beach; the complementary conditioner created a glossy shine.
While her hair air-dried, she applied her makeup, going for a subtle, smoky eye. She hardly wore makeup to work, but she didn’t want to look fresh-faced tonight. Tonight was all about maturity. With that in mind, she donned the high-waisted floral skirt and coordinating shirt she’d picked up on her shopping spree last night. Her favorite pair of dress boots matched perfectly. They had a one-inch heel that she never would have worn on a date, but Grady was tall enough not to feel threatened by her height. She was just finishing barrel curls when there was a hesitant knock at the door.
Great. He was already scared of her—or Troy—or both. She didn’t care. He was Grady Owens and he was buying her dinner and tonight was going to be fab-u-lous. Her heart hammered in anticipation as she scuttled as fast as she could to the door while wearing a tight skirt.
She paused, taking a deep breath and running her hands down the sides of her legs to make sure everything was in place. Tonight could be her last first date. Or it could be her one and only shot with Grady, and she could totally blow it by saying something stupid. Her family w
as always looking at her like she said something … off.
Shaking off any bad juju she may have conjured with her negative thoughts, she pulled open the door to find Grady with his hands in his pockets. If she had to sum up his look in one word, it would be sheepish.
I can work with that. “You and I have vastly different ideas about casual dating attire.” She lifted an eyebrow at his jeans and sweatshirt.
He looked down. “This is my best hoodie.”
She closed the door behind her and took his arm. “Then I’m flattered.” She beamed up at him. “Since we’re being honest, I should tell you that this is my second-best skirt.”
He smiled—just a little—and then his lips turned upside down. “I don’t think we should do this.”
“Stand on my porch?” She tugged at his arm. “You’re right. We shouldn’t be standing here when dinner awaits.” She moved forward but he didn’t, and she snapped back to his side. “My, but your arm is strong.” She clamped her teeth together. Her nerves were like a V6 motor for her mouth, and right now they revved loud enough to wake up the block.
“No, I mean we shouldn’t go out—on a date.”
“That’s fine.” She extracted her hand from his arm. “But I fixed your truck so you owe me a date. It doesn’t have to be with you.” She snapped her fingers. “You should give my number to that mechanic. The one I hope you guys fired. I mean, he doesn’t have a job now, but he sounded—fun.”
Grady folded his arms. “There is no way I’m giving Otis your number.”
She poked his chest. “Then you’re backing out on our deal. I guess I have to put a leak back in your antifreeze hose.”
He sighed as he ran his hand through his hair. “Fine. I’ll buy you dinner, but it’s not a date.”
She linked her arm through his again and smiled sweetly. “Who said anything about a date?”
Lucy McConnell's Snow Valley Box Set Page 43
