by Tanya Agler
“He wasn’t nice.” Rachel stomped her foot against the concrete.
Mike must have sensed Georgie was nearing her boiling point, for he tilted his head toward the hallway. She understood too well. If he couldn’t say this in front of Rachel, this had the potential for disaster.
He pulled her aside and then glanced at Rachel. Georgie’s gaze followed in that direction, only to find Rachel engrossed in a book.
To Mike she said, “Out with it.”
“Mr. Garrity found out you’re a suspect in the B&E here.”
Her chest clenched at Mike’s use of the present tense.
“I see.” That explained the rather frosty reception at Holly Days Diner last night, until she had explained about Mike’s birthday. “And how would that be common knowledge?”
“Police reports are public knowledge. Besides, this is Hollydale.” Mike shrugged. “Rachel’s teacher knew she was coming down with a cold before I did.”
Georgie wondered. That might or might not explain those cancellations. Who wanted a thief working on their car?
What happened to looking past the obvious and not taking things at face value? Dwelling on this wouldn’t help. She needed a plan. Somehow she had to make the town gossips work for her, instead of against her. Only then would there be a line of cars stretching onto Maple Street. More important, she might justify some of that faith Max had in her, enough faith to leave her in charge, enough to ask her to buy him out, enough to keep his legacy in the garage alive.
Mike reached out and stilled her fingers. “It’ll be okay.”
“Yeah, as long as I don’t have to make any deposits.” She gave a hollow laugh.
Max had kept his doctor’s appointment and was awaiting the results. Georgie had asked him point-blank why he didn’t consult with an oncologist in Asheville. Between his sister spoiling him and his interest in a local Hollydale widow who’d lost a husband to cancer, he wanted certainty before he came home. She didn’t want to let him down. Still, her throat ached at how little the town’s residents thought of her.
Mike lowered his head until his gaze met hers. “I set Mr. Garrity straight. The new Georgie has all the kind and honest qualities of high school Georgie, but more.” His chest puffed out, and a determined gleam turned his brown eyes to dark chunks of amber. “If anyone says anything to you, let me know.”
Their gazes met, and electricity sparked between them. No. She couldn’t break her promise to her mother in less than twenty-four hours. Like Mike said, everyone in Hollydale knew everyone’s business. Her mother would find out. This couldn’t continue.
“I can take care of myself.”
“No doubt you would have given Mr. Garrity a piece of your mind had we both been outside. But I was able to help. It’s not bad to accept help, say thank you and move on.” He sauntered back to the reception area.
Georgie appreciated the added space between them. Made it a whole lot easier to think.
“Now, what arrangements do I need to make for the tow truck to bring the Thunderbird here?”
Back to business. This she could handle.
Taking a quick peek at Rachel, scribbling away in a notebook, Georgie steeled herself against the rush of emotion. As much as she wanted a crack at the Thunderbird, she couldn’t let herself stand in the way of what was best for her mother.
“I would strongly suggest calling Foreman’s Classic Body Shop in Asheville.” She returned to Heidi’s desk and handed him the printout. “I’ve worked with Evan, the owner, before. They do solid work, and they won’t rip you off. And they’ll keep the Thunderbird as close to its original state as possible. Too many people lower the value of the car by adding modern features. Evan won’t do that. He’ll deliver a car you’ll be able to drive for years to come.”
Mike shook his head and pushed the paper back. “I trust you. Besides, didn’t you say you’ve done this type of work before?”
Nodding, she used one finger to scoot the paper once more. “It’s not fair to Travis, though, to take time away from the normal repair schedule to do this.” As free as that was. She exhaled that breath she’d been holding. “And my mother is back in the hospital.”
He gasped and reached for her hand. “Georgie, I hadn’t heard about that.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Wrap it up, Rache. Slight change of plans.” Returning his attention to Georgie, he smiled. “We’ll follow you home and get Beau so you can stay as long as you want at the hospital. I’ll make you dinner. When you’re done, come to my house. Then we’ll talk about fixing the car.” He met her gaze and rubbed her hand. “Or at least check it over to tell me what all needs to be done. Deal?”
His hand felt so good over hers, warm and strong. His taking charge of the situation should have chafed more. After all, she’d lived by herself as soon as she could afford paying for rent and utilities, preferring the freedom of no one looking over her shoulder. She waited for the resentment, but none came.
“I visited her once today. She practically ordered me to go to work.” The shock of that still hadn’t subsided. “I’ll take you up on that offer, though. Thank you.”
Besides, they’d be discussing business while Rachel would spoil Beau by preening over him. A friendly gesture on Mike’s part since her mother was in the hospital would be rude to refuse. That was all it was, and nothing more.
This time a feeling did come over her.
An attraction that made her wonder whether she could limit this to business.
* * *
HE’LL DELIVER A car you’ll be able to drive for years to come. Mike thought back to his conversations with Georgie about the Thunderbird. Hadn’t he made it clear he had every intention of selling the car? As nice as it was to imagine a life with the restored classic, it was even nicer to have a cushion in the bank for Rachel. Dance lessons, art lessons, after-school programs, all of which weren’t manageable with his current salary.
The sheriff’s job paid more.
No. That was the last reason he’d consider the position. A sheriff had a duty to the community. Mike didn’t shy away from that. He loved Hollydale and its residents. No, other reasons dug their claws in and took hold. Rachel was only young once. Donahue was good at his job. Let him deal with the politicians, the added stress, the extra paperwork.
He and Rachel had lived on what he made so far. They’d continue to do so.
His parents taught him a thing or two about stretching pennies. The Harrisons had sacrificed over the years. Three children cost more to raise than one.
They never stinted on love, though.
He blinked as that thought blindsided him. Had he been trying to buy Rachel’s love?
“Daddy, please hand me the plates.” Rachel tugged on his T-shirt. “I can’t reach them.”
The doorbell rang, and he dropped the plates onto the floor, the clattering sharp and unexpected. Thank goodness they were still intact.
“Can you pick those up for me, kiddo? I’ll be right back.” With Georgie, no doubt. On his way to the door, he stopped short. If he told Georgie the truth, she’d insist on taking the Thunderbird to Foreman’s. Then he wouldn’t have an excuse to spend time with her. He shook his head. As much as he wanted that, he had to be up front with her.
Hadn’t he learned anything over the years?
He opened the door, and his jaw dropped. While Georgie was a knockout in whatever she wore, he liked how the dark green swirls on her shirt accented her bright eyes. Words deserted him with her so close.
Determined, he steeled himself to do the right thing and tell her about selling the Thunderbird. Maybe if he’d been more truthful with Caitlyn and the two of them had worked on an honest-to-goodness relationship before getting married, she wouldn’t have been so quick to leave.
“Are you okay? You have the strangest expression on your face.” She gave a wistful smile and plucked at her
blouse. “I’m running late because showering and changing before I came over seemed like a no-brainer. Smelling antiseptic and bleach while I’m at the hospital? Okay. Same smell adhering to me the rest of the night?” She wrinkled her nose and waved her hand underneath. “Not my favorite perfume.”
Her sweet lemon smell was fast becoming his favorite, though.
“Believe me, it’s the host and not the company. You look great.”
Before he could get anything off his chest, a bark and a blur of brown fur flashed by and jumped up on Georgie.
“There’s my sweet boy.” Georgie smiled before she winced. “Down, Beau. Your nails are sharp.”
Mike noticed Ginger had wound her long body around his ankles. He reached down and scooped up the cat. “Come on in. I don’t want Ginger darting outside.”
“Something smells wonderful.” Georgie entered, and Beau followed.
“Georgie, wait.” He heaved a deep breath and exhaled. “Before dinner, I need to tell you the truth.”
A loud crash from the direction of the kitchen came on the heels of an even louder scream. Mike dropped Ginger, ignoring her hiss of protest. In the kitchen Rachel howled, grasped her left hand and fell to the floor in obvious pain. Wet pasta stuck to the front of the stove and the sink. A silver pot lay on its side near Rachel’s feet.
Beau barked, rushed in and began licking Rachel’s face. Fear shot through Mike, and he sprinted forward.
“Rachel!” Adrenaline made his voice harsher than intended. He softened and knelt beside her. “I need to see your hand.”
“No.” Fresh tears exploded out of her. “I just wanted to be helpful.”
He rubbed her shoulder. “Let me see your hand, kiddo.”
“No.” Sweat broke out on her forehead. Rachel pulled her hand close to her chest before letting loose with another howl of pain, an arrow straight to his heart.
Georgie stepped forward, concern clear in her green eyes. “Hey there, darling. You’re not in trouble. Your dad loves you, and he has to see your hand to figure out if you need medical help.”
Rachel sniffled, her bottom lip quivering. She held out her hand. Mike’s stomach lurched. Ugly red blisters were already forming, and his daughter whimpered. A trip to urgent care wasn’t even a question. It was a necessity.
“Hey, kiddo,” Mike whispered, “time to go find someone who can take care of that.”
She shook her head, her brown hair flying all over. Both Ginger and Beau seemed to sense the youngest human needed their support. Beau moved back and stood guard while Ginger nudged Rachel’s knee. Mike understood too well their desire to make Rachel feel better. He’d accept Rachel’s pain as his own in a second.
“No.” Rachel pulled her hand toward her, hiding it from view.
“We have to leave now,” he urged his daughter.
“I’ll drive,” said Georgie, flicking off the stove top and shutting off the running water in the sink.
He’d almost forgotten she was there. Turning, he opened his mouth in protest.
She held up her hand. “You’re in shock and in no condition to drive a car. Hold on one second.”
“Thank you.” Humbled, he couldn’t think of anything else to say. Instead, he held Rachel, shivering under his touch, her whimpers of pain heartbreaking.
Georgie moved about, and he devoted his attention to Rachel. Stroking her hair, he brought her close, a giant ache spreading through his chest. Rachel knew better than to touch a boiling pot of water. Chiding wouldn’t help, not with her sobs so raw and so open.
“Ready?” Georgie gave Beau a pat. “They’ll be okay together while we’re gone.”
Mike nodded and scooted Rachel out to the foyer, grabbing his wallet along the way. He turned to Georgie. “You don’t have to come with us. I’m sure the urgent care will smell like antiseptic.”
She arched one eyebrow and pointed to the door. “I’ll mark that pitiful excuse of a protest down to worry. Now scoot, or so help me, I’ll take Rachel without you.”
After eight years of single parenting, he wasn’t used to having someone else to lean on, to take charge in an emergency. He liked having Georgie at his side. Too much.
CHAPTER TEN
“RACHEL! WHAT ARE you doing here?” Georgie slid off one work glove and then the other. She crossed the reception area and hugged the girl. “How are you feeling?”
Hard to believe this was Georgie’s first glimpse of Rachel in almost a week. How had so long passed without her setting eyes on any member of the Harrison household? Her mother, life and work, which was picking up at last. That was why. Almost three weeks back in Hollydale had passed in a blink of an eye.
Georgie stepped away and studied Rachel. Her hand was bandaged, yet her face had some color in it today. So much better than the pasty white pallor of the other night.
“I didn’t have to play dodgeball today. Hooray.” Rachel lifted the left side of her mouth in a half smile, the same expression as Mike’s. “My PE teacher let me sit out.”
The front door opened, the cowbell jangling away. In walked a young woman with curly red hair and blue eyes. Georgie stared, and then her jaw dropped. Was this the little squirt who’d trailed her and Mike while reciting the periodic table?
“Natalie Harrison? Is that really you?”
“That’s rich coming from someone who has made a total stranger of herself over the past couple of years.” She laughed and removed her sunglasses, placing them in her purse. “Aw, this is too formal. Hug time.”
Natalie rushed over and embraced Georgie. The squirt had a last-minute growth spurt, too. Georgie could have sworn she’d been taller than Natalie the last time she’d seen her.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you since you delivered Mike’s note.”
Natalie gave her a sheepish look. “I should have read it first. If it’s any consolation, I chastised Mike on your behalf for a couple of years.”
Rachel stepped between them, her head turning from one to the other before she settled her gaze on Georgie. “My dad sent you notes? Did your teacher read them aloud to the whole class like mine does?”
Georgie laughed and tilted her head. “Hmm. I think your father is rather glad this one didn’t go viral. As a matter of fact, I don’t even have it anymore. I burned it a long time ago.” Her eyes widened, and her hands flew over her mouth. “Oh, Rachel, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned burns.”
Being spurned by Mike was in the past. It was time to look to the future. Sure, the whole prom disaster had caused heartache and embarrassment. In the grand scheme of things, though? She’d survived Kevin, and that was far worse.
“So, why are you both here?”
“Mike has to get some sleep for his stakeout tonight, so I’m spending time with my favorite niece.”
“I forgot to say thank you,” Rachel interrupted and threw her arms around Georgie’s waist.
Georgie quelled a rising level of affection for the young girl, along with the questions about Mike’s investigation. If she moved to Charlotte, she’d leave Mike and Rachel behind. Was working at the track where her father once lived and breathed worth losing out on relationships? She honestly didn’t know.
“Thank you for what?” She hadn’t done anything special.
“I love the stuffed cat you brought me. I named her Pollyanna after one of my favorite movies. You didn’t stay and say hello. Why not?”
“Your grandfather said you were sleeping, and I didn’t want him to wake you. Saturday was busy here at the shop, and on Sunday, my mother was released from the hospital.”
Although, Georgie wished she could have spent some time with the two Harrisons. They were laying claim to a chunk of her heart.
“Oh, okay.” Rachel reached for Georgie’s hand with her free one. “Thank you for Pollyanna.”
Natalie cleared her
throat. Georgie winced. She’d forgotten Natalie was there.
“By the way, Rachel is an excellent saleswoman on your behalf.”
Georgie was confused. “This isn’t a social call?”
“Nope.” Natalie shook her head and pointed out the window. “I can’t hear anything, but Miss Rachel insists my tires are making a whirring sound.”
Rachel nodded up and down in an exaggerated motion.
Hmm. This doesn’t sound good.
Georgie ran through the list of possible problems and hid her frown.
“Let’s go see what’s wrong.” Tilting her head toward the entrance, she squeezed Rachel’s hand, the smaller fingers cool and soft against hers. She glanced down. “Can you imitate the noise you heard?”
Rachel roared like a pouncing tiger.
Within seconds Georgie knelt and examined Natalie’s front tires. Darn it. Her suspicions were right.
“Come here, Natalie.”
“It can’t be the tires. I had them replaced a couple of months ago.”
“Are you sure it wasn’t two years ago?” Georgie waited for Natalie, while keeping Rachel in her sights. Once Natalie crouched on the pavement, Georgie pointed her short nail downward. “See these silver lines running down the edge of your tire? Your tread is shot.” Scanning the ground, Georgie found a lost penny, retrieved it and hunkered down again. “You can do the penny test on your own. I insert it into the treads and—see how you can see all of Lincoln’s head? This tire is almost bare.”
“No way. The son of—” Natalie glanced at Rachel as a pink blush spread across her apple cheeks “—a sea biscuit. I’m positive I bought new tires a few months ago.”
Natalie opened the passenger door, and Georgie straightened. Rolling her neck, she breathed in the mountain air, the clean linen smell of fall. This weekend had brought a dip in the temperature and fewer tourists.
“Aha!” Natalie’s triumphant voice filled Georgie’s ears with a blast. “I was right.”
