by Tanya Agler
That was enough of a concession. Mike had asked her for a fresh start. Maybe the first one should be with her mother. Besides, her mother might actually release her from that stupid promise.
“Thank you.”
They sat at the Chippendale table, an antique handed down from her mother’s family. As Georgie cut up the bread and poured syrup, her stomach clenched. Best to get the elephant out of the room. Big and gray, it would do much better elsewhere.
“Mike was called away, and I watched Rachel while he worked.” Her mother’s clenched jaw gave her pause, but Georgie forged forward. “I don’t want to work for cousin Odalie. I love engines. I love their smell, fixing them, rebuilding them. That’s who I am.”
“Just like your father.” Beverly shook her head, her hazel eyes briefly clouding over.
“I hope that’s a compliment.”
Beverly rose from the table and went over to her Keurig. Selecting a pod, she pressed buttons before returning. “No matter what people thought, Stephen and I were in love. We were polar opposites from two different worlds, but I loved him all the more for knowing what he wanted, in this case me, and going after it.”
“Why don’t you talk about him more?” Most of the stories Georgie learned about Stephen George Bennett came from Max or online articles.
Beverly rubbed her hand over her face before she glanced at the coffee maker. Rising, she went over for her cup of coffee. “Don’t fuss. It’s decaf.” She gave a weak grin and then glanced with regret at the cream resting on the table. “It’s hard to explain.”
“I’ll be thirty in a couple of months. Please.” That single word had worked last night when Mike tried it.
Gulping, Beverly raised her eyes and looked off as if she were miles away. “That morning, your father and I had our first fight. I wanted to buy a house with my trust fund. He wanted us to earn the money. When I went to apologize, he was already out on the track.”
Georgie covered her mother’s hand. Despite cupping the hot mug, her mother’s fingers were chilled to the bone.
“I know the next part.” Softness laced Georgie’s words.
The newspaper articles had gone into detail about the twenty-six-year-old driver. He’d lost control in the last turn of the final lap at Pine Hill Speedway. His pregnant wife had watched horrified when his car crashed into the wall and burst into flames. Each word had been a searing brand. Yet Georgie had read every article multiple times.
A single tear slipped from Beverly’s eye. “They said he died on impact. That’s never been a consolation.”
Georgie walked over and hugged her mother tight, the familiar scent of Chanel No. 5 comforting instead of smothering. Her mother’s stiffness sent a shiver of sadness down Georgie’s spine. She remained silent until her mother relaxed. Whether it was seconds or minutes, it didn’t matter. Georgie had waited forever for this moment. If she stayed in Hollydale, more moments like this might be in the offering.
And maybe more moments with Mike and Rachel.
Maybe she should accept Max’s offer and move past the notion of working at the track where her father had died.
Georgie caught her breath. “I’d like for us to have a normal mother-daughter relationship.”
“Normal?” Mom shrugged and shuddered. “I don’t do that well. Besides, it’s hard to have such a relationship when you’re gallivanting all over the country.”
“We could try. One day at a time, and figure it out together.”
Her mother nodded. “I like having you here.”
A thump came from the doorway. How did Beau get out? He entered the room and trotted over to Georgie. Mom sighed.
“Even with that dog around.” Her mom smiled.
Georgie gave Beau a pat on the head for added confidence. “I’m waiting to hear about a pit crew position at Pine Hill Speedway. As of now, I don’t have it.” She shrugged and leaned back. “I’ll admit Hollydale is growing on me. Beau is, too, but he’s not mine. Mr. Reedy wants him back once he leaves rehab. And—”
“Georgie, that dog adores you. Even I can see that,” Mom interrupted and then blew on her coffee, steam rising to her lips. “Surgery and recovery take a lot out of a person.” Mom placed her mug back on the table. “It’s taken me a month to work up to walking two blocks every morning.”
“Beau loves walks. Maybe you could walk him and bond with him.” Georgie glanced over her shoulder. Caffeine could wait no longer, and she excused herself and found the perfect pod for this morning. She returned, the expectant look still in Mom’s eyes, and Georgie nodded. “Spit out the real reason you made me French toast.”
“On my walk, I ran into Melanie Donahue, Sheriff Donahue’s wife.”
“And?”
Mom rubbed her thumb along Georgie’s hand. “There was an attempted burglary last night.”
Relief washed over her, and a big smile broke out. “That’s great.”
Her mother lifted her glasses higher onto the bridge of her nose.
Georgie winced. “Not great for the owner, of course.”
“I never thought I’d hear myself defending Michael Harrison, but he’s standing up for you.”
Mike had told her the truth. Georgie furrowed her brows and gave Beau a scratch behind his ears. “But I wasn’t in town for the first burglaries, and I was at his house last night.”
“The sheriff wants you to take a lie detector test about the comic books.”
“What?” The word exploded out of her, and she jumped up, knocking her coffee over. “I’m innocent.”
“I’ve never doubted that.” Her mother retrieved some paper towels and started wiping.
Georgie got more paper towels and helped while Beau settled back at her feet.
Mom’s chest rose heavily. “Georgie. There’s something I must tell you.”
Georgie held up her hand. “Me, first.” Her mouth went as dry as her mother’s Thanksgiving turkey. “About Mike.”
Mom lowered her gaze and tapped the side of her mug. “What about him? He hurt you once.”
“Good grief. Eleven years ago.” Georgie blew a stray strand of hair off her forehead. “I’m so past that. We’re adults now.” And he was an attractive adult with brown eyes the color of dark chocolate. “If I stay in Hollydale, he’ll be a part of my life.”
“If you stay? You’ve always wanted to see the world and experience life. So much like the old me. After Stephen died, I gave up on adventure.”
She took after her mother? Who had once dreamed of adventure? Wonders never ceased this morning. “Like what?”
Shrugging, Mom played with the handle on her mug. “Owning a small shop. Going back to college. Riding a gondola in Venice.”
Striding over, Georgie kissed her mother’s cheek. “You’re not old at all. Fifty-four is the new thirty-four. Do all of that.”
“Don’t give up your dreams. Even for me. Promise me you’ll never let a man get in the way of doing what’s best for you.”
“Kevin cured me of that.”
“I never liked Kevin, either.”
They glanced at each other and laughed, the tension easing away.
“Right now, I have an adventure waiting for me at Max’s. The adventure of fixing Miss Louise’s sedan.”
Mom wrapped her arm around Georgie’s arm. So cold. Worry shot through Georgie.
“Promise me you won’t let Mike get in the way of what’s best for you.”
“You’ve already made me promise to deal with Mike on a business level only.” Georgie breathed in and went for it. “I want you to release me from that promise. It’s up to me who I get involved with.”
“Fine. I release you from that promise. You can decide what you do and when with Michael Harrison.” She sat down, cupping her coffee. “Just promise me you won’t let anyone interfere with your dreams. Even me.”
/>
That was a different promise, one made with Georgie’s welfare at heart. She could live with that.
“Fine.” Georgie gestured at Beau, whose ears perked up. “Right now, though, my biggest dream is fixing a whole fleet of cars.”
After returning Beau to her garage apartment, Georgie grabbed her purse and headed to her Prius. From the driver’s seat, she glanced around. The sun’s rays accentuated the reds and oranges of the trees flaming around her. Peak season in the Smokies, and the tourists would continue flocking to Hollydale this weekend.
Her phone buzzed. No doubt Heidi was wondering where she was. Georgie rooted her phone out of her purse.
She blinked. The text wasn’t from Heidi but from the pit chief, Brett Cullinan. Her stomach clenched, the taste of syrup now acidic rather than sweet. Taking a deep breath, she opened the text. Her eyes widened.
Congrats on being one of our three finalists for the position. We are conducting interviews and drills next week in Charlotte, NC. What works better for you: next Tuesday afternoon at four or Wednesday afternoon at five? Respond ASAP. Thx, Cullinan.
This was the text she’d been waiting for. Her heart lifted before it crashed back to earth. For so long, meeting Pine Hill Speedway in Charlotte head-on and having a Bennett create a happily-ever-after there by becoming a female pit member had been her dream. Now? Sure, her customers were coming around to her as their mechanic. Every week had seen an uptick in business. Natalie and Lucie seemed to like the car care class. And her mother had opened up to her. Moving would potentially destroy all of that.
Then there were Mike and Rachel. The gangly teenager turned hunky responsible adult who adored his daughter. The bond between father and daughter was strong, the love Mike had evident. Somehow that confidence made him all the more attractive.
Georgie wanted a chance to explore the chemistry between her and Mike. Two kisses, with the promise of more, were worth something. She banged her head against the steering wheel. This was not a decision that should have to be made so early in the morning.
Dreams changed. Maybe her destination had been Hollydale all along.
There was only one answer for Brett Cullinan. No. Already her shoulders felt lighter. Her fingers flew across the screen before she stilled, remembering what her mother said not even five minutes ago. Was Georgie using Mike as an excuse not to try? One in three wasn’t a sure thing.
She had to know if she was good enough.
She changed the text and asked for the Wednesday slot. Within seconds a reply confirming her choice pinged on the screen.
Even while touring the country, she’d yearned for a chance to work at the same track as her father.
She’d never dreamed, though, about the emptiness spreading through her limbs when she was so close to that reality.
* * *
MIKE SCRUBBED HIS face with his hand and peered up at the repair shop. With the cooler crisp autumn air, smells of brake fluid and oil carried out to the parking area. Breathing it in and taking in the fall scenery were all classic signs of stalling, and he knew it. Darn it, if Donahue wanted to keep harping about a polygraph, then the sheriff should ask Georgie to take one. Then when she passed, that would be the end of that.
He felt weighted to the spot. He hoped Georgie would understand that it was Donahue asking him to carry out the order.
Because he’d sure like another chance to kiss her.
Summoning his courage, he entered the repair shop.
“Officer Harrison.” Heidi Crowe raised her hand in greeting. “Caught the bad guys yet?”
“Getting closer every day.” He removed his sunglasses and smiled. “Georgie around?”
“Working on a Honda Civic. Can I help you or give her a message?”
“See if she has a minute, will you?” He kept his grin as casual as possible.
Her eyebrows quirked downward as if she read him anyway. “Be right back.”
Mike skimmed the announcements on the bulletin board. Babysitting, school play, Georgie’s car care class. Standard stuff.
“You wanted to see me?” Georgie’s husky voice sent quivers through him.
He steeled himself for what he had to do. “We need to talk.”
“Let’s go into my office.”
Hmm, interesting.
Georgie no longer referred to the office as Max’s. Was she staying in Hollydale instead of leaving when times became rough? Her eyes shone, and his gut tightened. She believed this was a personal call instead of business.
He shut the door behind him and let out a slow, deep breath. “Are you free tonight?” What a great idea. Get everything with the investigation out in the open and then maybe kiss Georgie again. She was worth the risk of rejection.
She turned, a frown replacing her sweet smile. “Who’s asking? Mike or Officer Harrison?” Those emeralds sparkled with a different glint, more dangerous and hard. “My mother told me the sheriff wants me to take a lie detector test.”
“Yeah, he does.”
Huffing, she shook her head. “I don’t know what Sheriff Donahue has against me. My mother couldn’t even go for a two-block walk without being told her daughter was still being investigated.”
The time to unload everything was now.
“Let’s talk.” Sighing, he pulled the small aluminum chair out from the corner and unfolded it.
“What’s to talk about?” She plopped down in the office chair. “I wasn’t here when the thefts began. I was with you last night when you were called in.” She ticked off the points on her fingers. “I didn’t steal the comic books, and I don’t appreciate the sheriff talking about this so freely with his wife.”
This time the sharp intake of breath came out of him. He was shocked. Donahue shouldn’t be expressing his opinions about the case to his wife, who sure shouldn’t be going around confronting anyone’s mother about the crimes.
“I’ll talk to Sheriff Donahue. He’s up for reelection, and the talk around town over the past few months is some people want a younger sheriff.” Namely himself. “He’s feeling the heat, but that’s no excuse not to follow protocol.”
Georgie’s chin lifted. “I can understand that type of fear, the fear you’re not wanted in a place you consider your home.”
A jolt hit him right in the chest. “Georgie.”
“I know that tone. But you and I are good. Besides, nothing compared to my ex-fiancé telling me I wasn’t pretty enough, frilly enough, woman enough for him.” Her shoulders slumped, and he stayed still, amazed some jerk couldn’t see the treasure in front of him.
“That guy was even more of a fool than me.”
“Thank you.” The husky words pierced his heart deeper than any arrow. She glanced up, and a faint whisper of a smile broke out. “For the record, I’m innocent.”
“I’m doing my best to prove that. I believe you, and I believe in you.”
“I know.”
“I have a duty to my job, to Donahue and to the community. Without a court order, though, the department can’t compel you to go through with the test.” The pain in her eyes, even with his softest tone, was evident. “Can you come over tonight? Rachel and Ginger would like to see you.” He paused. He couldn’t hide behind the women in his family anymore. “Me, too.”
Georgie winced, sending his gut down to the floor. “I have a car care class tonight. I moved them to Tuesdays. Here’s the reason I came over last night, though. I’d like you and Rachel to go to the Smoky Mountains Car Show with me. It’s at the Timber River Park this coming Saturday. You both might be interested in seeing what the Thunderbird will look like once it’s reassembled.”
Mike rose and couldn’t remember the last time the air tasted this sweet.
“It’s a date.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
RACHEL POINTED TO a vintage restored Packard. “Daddy, is
that the type of car Grandma and Grandpa drove when you were my age?”
Mike bit back his laughter. “No, kiddo.” He glanced at Georgie, that wink meant for him alone. His spirits lifted. A sense of family, long missing, washed over him. “That was before my day. These are all classic cars.”
Rachel commandeered the spot between them. Even with the slight disappointment of not walking next to Georgie and holding her hand, he couldn’t remember the last time he was this relaxed. Besides, checking Georgie out from a distance wasn’t so bad. She’d foregone her usual black T-shirt for a free-flowing burgundy top. The loose style suited her and complemented her curves.
He had only one real complaint. With Georgie around, smelling like a lemon tree and looking so pretty, it was hard to notice the cars. When a guy couldn’t concentrate on a Ferrari, its sleek lines the epitome of power, something was up. He blinked and tried to focus on the MGs, gleaming and proud under the bright October sunshine.
Rachel tugged him toward the area where the Mustang Club of Timber River grouped their convertibles together. He gave Rachel’s uninjured hand a slight squeeze. “Which one’s your favorite?”
“I like them all.” Rachel grinned and released his hand, sprinting over to a group of convertibles. “I take that back. This one’s really pretty.”
She’d gone straight to a fully restored Thunderbird.
He glanced at Georgie, her face as excited as a kid in a toy store with an unlimited budget.
Holding her thumb up, she grinned. “That’s your daughter, all right. Your grandfather would be downright proud.”
Mike ignored the guilt. Grandpa Ted would have frowned and then said some choice words when Mike transferred the title out of the family for the first time in over fifty years.
Today he’d cut himself some slack. Above all, this was his first break after an intense work week. Community leaders were pressuring Donahue to step aside if he couldn’t make an arrest and stop the break-ins. Mike’s ribs were sore from all the not-so-subtle nudging to run for sheriff.
