The Mechanics of Mistletoe

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The Mechanics of Mistletoe Page 3

by Liz Isaacson


  She’d paired them with a dark blouse with brightly colored flowers on it. Blue and yellow and pink, which somehow brought out the color in her hair. He’d never seen Sammy wear jewelry on the job, but tonight, she had gold hoops in her ears and a thin gold band around her left thumb.

  “Does that ring have a story?” he asked, hoping it was a good one.

  “Sort of,” she said, twisting the ring now.

  Bear turned around completely, rumbling past the homestead and Skyler Walker’s house on the left, and Micah’s on the right before Sammy spoke again.

  “My mother got my sister and me rings when we were little babies,” she said. “She had Heather’s buried with her, and I just got mine a few months ago.”

  Bear nodded, not sure what to say. He felt like he was navigating a minefield, where everything that seemed innocent definitely wasn’t. “I’m sorry about your sister,” he said. “That must be very difficult.”

  “I have good days and bad,” she said.

  “What’s today?” he asked.

  “Today’s in the middle,” she said.

  “You can just tell me if it’s a good day or a bad one,” he said, looking at her fully as he looked right to check traffic. “Heaven—and all my brothers and cousins—knows I have plenty of bad days.” He smiled, thrilled when Sammy did too.

  “Okay, Bear,” she said.

  “Okay.” He sure did like his name in her voice, and he got them moving back toward town. “Where do you want to eat?”

  “Have you tried the new fish taco place?”

  “No,” he said, transforming into a grizzly as he spoke. “I don’t think fish in the Texas Panhandle is all that appetizing.” He cocked one eyebrow and kept his eyes on the road.

  “It’s not bad,” she said. “They have everything flown in from the Gulf of Mexico, day-of.”

  It sounded like she wanted to get fish tacos, but Bear had heard through the grapevine that it was a fast-casual place. “That’s fine,” he said, because he just wanted Sammy to be happy.

  “We could try The Library,” Sammy said, and at least she was talking now. “They’re really busy on Friday nights though.”

  “Mm,” Bear said. “I don’t think I realized it was Friday.”

  Sammy started laughing, the sound quiet at first. Bear glanced at her as she really picked up. “Is that funny?”

  “Yes,” she said through her giggles. “Who doesn’t know what day of the week it is?”

  “Ranchers work seven days a week,” he said. “But it at least explains the traffic.” Three Rivers was a growing, blooming town, and since Bear didn’t make it to town very often, he didn’t have to deal with traffic, construction, or lines.

  He kept both hands solidly on the wheel, though he’d really like to hold Sammy’s hand tonight. He started thinking about that, and he missed the turn to go to The Library.

  “It’s down there,” she said, and Bear pressed on the brake.

  “Yeah, sorry.” He flipped around and got on the right street.

  “What were you and Micah and Simone talking about today?” she asked, her voice a forced casual that Bear could hear from a mile away.

  “Uh, just….” He sighed. He was going to have to tell her sooner or later. The weight of those eyes landed on him again, and he wondered if he’d always be able to feel it when she studied him.

  He pulled up to The Library, getting a spot right in the front. “This could be a good sign,” he said. “Let me run in and see how long the list is.” He unbuckled and opened his door. “Hold tight here.”

  “Okay,” she said, and Bear jogged into the restaurant, feeling very much like he was running away from the confession he needed to make. “How long for two?” he asked.

  “Ten minutes,” the woman standing there said.

  He gave her his name and took the buzzer she gave him. Back in the truck, he handed it to Sammy with, “Ten minutes.”

  “Oh, that’s not bad at all,” she said.

  “There are a lot of new places in town now,” he said. “They might not be as busy anymore.”

  “Yeah.”

  Bear took a couple of deep breaths, trying to even out his pulse before he spoke again.

  “If you were talking about me,” Sammy said. “I’d rather not know anyway.”

  Bear twisted in his seat to face her. “It wasn’t about you.”

  She lifted her eyes to his, and Bear tried to judge how she was feeling, but Sammy was very good at hiding her emotions. He had no idea what was going through her mind.

  “Look, I have to just tell you something,” he said, employing his gruff voice. He could get through anything by using this voice. “I’ve wanted to go out with you for some time now.” He cleared his throat, her beauty too much for him to absorb and keep talking. He focused out the windshield instead. “And Evelyn Walker used to be a matchmaker. She’d create these perfect situations for men and women to meet, you know? So I asked her to help me.”

  “Help you?”

  “Yeah, help me. She called me earlier today when you showed up at Micah’s. That’s how I knew you were there.” He refrained from saying he’d practically run to the truck and driven over the speed limit to get to Seven Sons before he missed her. No need to throw himself further under the bus.

  “Did she tell you to throw my tools all over?” Sammy asked, a definitely teasing quality in her voice.

  “No, ma’am,” he said seriously. “That was just me bumbling around like a fool.” He glanced at her, but again couldn’t hold her gaze. “You make me kind of nervous.”

  “I do?” She sounded completely surprised, and when Bear looked at her, those big eyes were round and shocked. “That’s just crazy.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s true,” he muttered. He shouldn’t have said that, and Bear cursed himself for not taking Simone’s advice to just play things cool. The problem was, Bear didn’t know how to be cool. He seemed to run on laughter or frowns, and there was nothing in between.

  She didn’t say anything else, and Bear kept a steady stream of self-talk going so he wouldn’t either. He really didn’t need to keep adding more humiliation on top of the humiliation he was already suffering under.

  The buzzer went off, and Sammy jumped. “That’s us.”

  “Yep.” Bear killed the engine and got out of the truck, realizing Sammy had too. He met her at the front saying, “I would’ve come to open your door.”

  “It’s fine, Bear,” she said. “It’s sweet, really, but I can do it myself.”

  Bear believed there wasn’t anything she couldn’t do, so he just nodded. He didn’t make the move to hold her hand, and then he beat himself up for missing the opportunity while they sat down and started looking at the menu.

  He didn’t particularly like The Library, but he was going to take that tidbit to the grave with him. “What do you like here?”

  “The Shakespeare sandwich,” she said, not even bothering with the menu.

  He tried to find it, as he liked sandwiches too. It was a hot sandwich, open-faced, with plenty of onion gravy. “Sounds good,” he said.

  In the end, he decided on the steak and eggs, and when their waiter arrived, they ordered their food and drinks together. That done, and nothing to occupy his attention, Bear finally focused on the woman sitting across from him. He noticed she kept her hands in her lap, under the table, and he wondered what that was about.

  “How’s the shop?” he asked.

  “Good.” She nodded, and Bear might not have been on a date in a good, long while, but he knew nerves when he saw them. Confusion ran through him. She’d said it was okay to leave Lincoln at Seven Sons.

  “How’s the ranch?” she asked.

  “Busy,” he said. “And we desperately need you to come fix our tractor.” He looked at her hopefully, and she did smile.

  “I don’t work weekends, Bear,” she said. “I spoiled you one time too many.”

  “That was years ago,” he said, as she’d stopped
working weekends when she’d gotten Lincoln. “You can bring Lincoln. I’ll take him to see the chickens, and he won’t even know what you’re doing in the warehouse.”

  “You’d win more points with him if you took him to the goats,” she said.

  “Okay, the goats.” Bear had plenty of those, as they kept his dormant fields down, and he got milk and meat from them every once in a while.

  She didn’t commit, and Bear couldn’t think of anything else to say. Every minute seemed to take a year to tick by, and all the while he wondered why he’d asked Sammy to go to dinner with him if he couldn’t even have a normal conversation with her.

  Chapter Four

  Sammy slid out of Bear’s truck back at Seven Sons Ranch, her skin itching. She felt near the cusp of tears, and when Bear got out with her, that only made things worse.

  “Do you know where they’d be?”

  “Probably out on the ranch somewhere,” he said, shading his eyes though he wore that sexy, black cowboy hat.

  They’d only been gone for an hour and twenty minutes, and that included the drive to Three Rivers and back. Sammy felt so foolish. She hadn’t been able to think of anything to say to Bear, though she had managed to tease him a time or two. Other times, he’d ask her a question and she’d give a one-word answer.

  She wasn’t sure what her problem was. She’d been dancing around Bear for years, and she should’ve been thrilled to spend the evening with him. The whole evening.

  As it was, the sun hadn’t even set yet, and no wonder Lincoln wasn’t waiting for her to get back.

  “Listen,” Bear said. “I’m really sorry about tonight.”

  “Why?” Sammy asked. He had nothing to apologize for. She was the awkward one. Now, if he had a specific question about a carburetor, she could talk for hours.

  “Tonight—did you have fun tonight?” He peered at her, and Sammy liked that he could finally look her in the face. She’d struggled at first too, but she sure did like looking at Bear’s handsome face and bright eyes.

  “It was okay,” she said.

  “That means no,” he said darkly. “I’m just not that talkative.”

  “Neither am I,” she said. There was so much she didn’t want to talk about. Since Heather’s death, she’d shut down in so many ways, and just one of them was how much she spoke.

  “Sammy!”

  She turned toward her nephew’s voice, catching him up into her arms. He was a skinny little kid for an eight-year-old, but the doctor assured her he was normal and still growing. He started jabbering about horses, cows, and honeybees, then moved onto riding the ATV and polishing a saddle for Liam.

  Sammy smiled through the tidal wave of words, finally looking at Bear and nodding to the truck. He nodded and waved, but he stayed beside Jeremiah Walker and the twins as Jeremiah kept talking to him.

  She got Lincoln buckled in the back seat and she got back in her spot too. “And they have this huge barn with a big American flag, Sammy. I mean, it’s huge.”

  “That’s great,” she said, watching Bear as he spoke with Jeremiah. He clearly could talk; he just hadn’t been able to talk to her.

  You make me kinda nervous.

  She couldn’t believe she made the big, bad cowboy nervous. He was the one who made her stomach flutter and her thoughts scatter. He finally returned to the truck and asked, “Did you have fun, Lincoln?”

  “Yeah!” Lincoln said, and Sammy’s guilt doubled. She was no fun, she knew that. She had stopped working weekends when she’d gotten full guardianship of Lincoln. She tried to take him out into the wilderness of Texas on Saturday and Sunday, showing him hiking trails and historical monuments. Anything to get the two of them out of the house for a little bit.

  Lincoln managed to keep the cab full of conversation on the way back to their house, and he ran ahead of Sammy to the front steps. Bear met her at the front bumper, his hands tucked in those jeans. He wore a mustard yellow button-up shirt with a brown leather jacket over that, and he seriously looked good enough to eat.

  “Thanks for dinner,” she said.

  “Yep.”

  “I’ll see you Monday?” She walked backward a few steps as Lincoln called to her that the door was locked and he needed a key.

  Bear nodded, his expression stormy, and Sammy turned away from him and walked forward. She got the door unlocked and her nephew inside before she turned back to Bear. He lifted his hand in a wave, and she did too.

  Only then did he get behind the wheel of his truck and back out of her driveway. Relief streamed through her, and she stepped inside and closed the door, effectively sealing the rest of the world out of her house.

  She leaned back against the door, tears gathering in her eyes. I wish you were here, she thought, sending her statements to Heather. You’d know what to tell me to do. You’d know how to make things less awkward with Bear Glover.

  Sammy sniffled and wiped her eyes quickly. She didn’t want Lincoln to see her crying. She didn’t want to cry anymore, but after they’d had a quick bowl of ice cream and she’d tucked him in, she escaped to her room and lay down on the bed.

  Her tears ran out of the corners of her eyes, wetting her pillow on either side of her face. “I did it again, Heather. I self-sabotaged the date. I could’ve asked better questions. It’s not like I’ve never met Bear before. I could’ve given longer answers.” She stared up at the ceiling, one question moving through her body and soul. Why?

  Why? Why? Why?

  She had that question for so many things, and no one—not even the Lord—had ever been able to answer it for her.

  She didn’t see Bear on Monday, as he was nowhere to be found in the warehouse when she showed up at Shiloh Ridge Ranch to fix the tractor. Instead, his cousin, Ranger, and one of his brothers, Bishop, met her. They explained what they’d done to try to get the tractor to run, and Sammy nodded, asked questions, and ultimately got beneath the machine to see what her insides looked like.

  “You bought a pump for a lawn mower,” she said, her voice echoing around her. That was the first problem, at least. She poked at this and prodded that. “And the fuel seal is broken,” she said. That would make the tractor run rough and run out of fuel faster.

  She heard Ranger and Bishop arguing, but she couldn’t make out any words. With her examination done, she pulled herself out from under the vehicle. “I have to run to town. I’ll be back and get this done for you.”

  “Lawn mower,” Ranger said with a scoff. “How embarrassing.” He smiled at Sammy, and while he had a handsome, symmetrical face, with nearly the same color hair as Bear, he did nothing to her pulse.

  She stewed on the way to the farm supply store. Maybe she should just call Bear. Ask him if they could get together for lunch one day this week. Lunch felt easier than dinner. No babysitter. No pressure to dress up. He’d pick her up from her shop, and she’d just go in whatever she was wearing. He’d be in jeans and cowboy boots, no leather jacket that accented those beautiful shoulders. They’d laugh and talk the whole afternoon away, only to have Sammy rush back to the shop to be there when Lincoln got off the bus.

  It was a nice fantasy, and Sammy let it play out for as long as it wanted. She fixed the tractor and left Shiloh Ridge with the promise that Bear would pay her once Ranger told him the tractor was fixed.

  That evening, her phone went cha-ching! and she checked it to see that Bear had indeed paid her for the tractor.

  “Too much,” she muttered, actually annoyed with the man now. He’d always paid her too much, and he refused to let her give any money back. It wasn’t worth the fight, and Sammy usually sent him a quick text to let him know she’d gotten the money and she was grateful for it.

  For him? she wondered.

  He stayed on her mind that night, the next day and evening, and the next. She didn’t text or call him; her phone stayed likewise silent.

  By Thursday, she knew she’d blown her chance with him, and she had no idea how to fix it. She could fix anything—lite
rally anything—but she didn’t know how to fix this gaping black hole inside herself.

  That afternoon, she’d just completed an oil change when the tornado warning sirens filled the air. Panic struck her right inside her lungs, and she hurried outside to see what was happening. The sky was bright, with barely a breeze in the air.

  “Turn on the radio,” she called back to her guys. “Now.” She bustled back inside, checking the time. School was already out; Lincoln was on the bus somewhere. She needed to get him and get to her parents’ house as soon as she could.

  But she also needed to board up everything here, and she started barking out orders before Logan could even get the radio tuned in.

  Jeff dashed through the back door of the shop and returned with lumber a moment later. The radio tuned in, and Sammy leaned closer to it with Logan, Jason, and Jeff.

  “…a possibly category four tornado coming up the Panhandle,” a man said. “Evacuations have been called, and sirens are going off clear up into Oklahoma. All are advised to get somewhere safe in the next hour, board up any windows and doors, and move into shelters if possible.”

  The newsman continued to speak, but Sammy straightened. “Ten minutes,” she said. “And we’re all out of here. Make any calls now that you need to.” She looked at her friends and fellow mechanics. “Ten minutes.”

  She picked up a hammer and got to work while they made phone calls. Soon enough, all four of them were nailing boards over the windows and doors of the shop to hopefully protect them from shattering during the tornado.

  They didn’t get tornadoes often, but every six or seven years they seemed to pass through this part of Texas.

  “You guys go,” she said to Jeff, Jason, and Logan. “The bus will be here any minute.” She knew, because Clayton had texted her to say so. Sure enough, Logan had barely left before Clayton arrived.

  “Come on, come on,” Sammy called to Lincoln. “Let’s go, bud. We have to get to Grandma and Grandpa.” She waved to Clayton, who wasted no time pulling away from the shop. Sammy hurried Lincoln to their truck, and she drove as quickly as she could to her parents’ house.

 

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