by Liz Isaacson
A frayed edge came into view, which quickly became a tear. No wonder the truck was making such a horrendous noise. She pushed herself out from underneath the vehicle, her skin feeling sticky. It was stormy today, and they had the back garage doors closed. That made the air flow in the space practically non-existent, and just because it was going to rain didn’t mean it was cold.
Sammy wiped her forehead, feeling too much grime there. “Do we have a timing belt for an older model Ford?” she asked.
“I doubt it,” Jeff said without looking away from the engine he was bent over.
“I’ll look.” Sammy washed up in the sink, but she probably didn’t need to. The keyboard in front of the computer they used looked like it had been drenched in something black. It was clean, because she cleaned it every night before she left the shop. It was just stained.
She clicked to get to their inventory, and she typed in the year, make, and model of Lizzie’s truck. They did not have a timing belt in stock. She started to search for one she could get from a supplier, but her phone buzzed, distracting her.
She always kept her phone on vibrate, because she had a son at school and parents that couldn’t seem to make it through a single day without texting and calling her at least three times. That had only gotten worse since her father’s fall, and pure exhaustion pulled through Sammy.
It pulled tight, but she couldn’t help glancing at her phone. Perhaps it would be Bear again, and she could apologize via text. He’d forgive her instantly, of course, and she’d ask him to bring lunch and then go check on her parents.
She didn’t want to carry the burden alone anymore. She wondered why she’d wanted to in the first place. She also couldn’t fathom having the confidence to just text him and ask him. He’d texted her though and said really wonderful things.
Her stomach growled, and she blinked when she heard the bell on the front door ring. Jason and Logan were out getting lunch, and Sammy left the computer in the back and pushed through the plastic door that led to the lobby.
“Charlie,” she said when she saw Charles Zicker standing there. “What can I do for you?”
“My daughter’s car got keyed in the high school parking lot,” he said with a frown. “I told her she’s going to have to pay to fix it, but I thought I’d stop by and see how much it was first.” He indicated the lot behind him. “I’m driving it today. Do you have a minute to look at it?”
“Sure,” Sammy said. She liked getting jobs that weren’t all engine work, and she’d literally kill to buff out a scratch and repaint. She followed Charlie outside while he continued talking about how he’d told his daughter not to park by the band room, that kids hung out there when they should be in class.
She hadn’t listened, of course. “So I want her to have to pay for it,” he said, coming to a stop at the driver’s side of a cherry red hatchback that looked really sporty to Sammy. “But if it’s too much, I’ll secretly pay the difference.” He looked at her, and Sammy saw all the emotions of a parent.
He wanted to punish his daughter, but not make it too harsh. Sammy smiled and ran her fingers along the scratches. There were three distinct lines she could see, and she couldn’t imagine being a teenager and doing this to someone else’s car.
“It’s on this side too,” Charlie said, and Sammy took a look on the passenger side.
“You have insurance?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said, looking at her. “That will cover this?”
“Should,” Sammy said. “The ones on this side don’t look bad. The other side is a little deeper.” She did some quick math in her head. “Probably two thousand, Charlie. I’m sorry.”
“My deductible is half that,” he said. “Maybe I’ll make her pay for half.” He looked at Sammy. “When can you get it in?”
Sammy looked at the shop, enjoying the potted flowers she’d put there last week. It was November, but they’d bloom for a little longer, until a truly cold snap moved into the Panhandle. She liked making her more masculine profession a little bit feminine.
“Next week,” she said. “I can start on Monday.”
“Okay.” Charlie smiled as he rounded the hood. “Thanks, Sammy. You’re the best.” He got behind the wheel of the car and drove away while Sammy still stood there.
She didn’t feel like the best. She felt like a complete failure. As she looked south, she could almost see the highway that would lead her out to Shiloh Ridge—and Bear.
“You should just go,” she said to herself.
“Go where?”
She spun around at the sound of the voice and found Logan standing there. “Nowhere,” she said with a sigh. “I think I’ve made a big mistake.” She shook her head and headed for the door.
“We got sandwiches,” Logan called after her. “Maybe that will help.”
Sammy didn’t think so, and how Logan thought food could help was laughable. She supposed his wife had brought him lunch more than once when they’d had a little tiff, and Jeff had gotten his marriage back on the right track with a fancy dinner at the best restaurant in town.
Of course, that wasn’t the only thing he’d done. He’d stopped snapping at his wife too, and he’d started doing lots of little things that let her know how much he loved her.
Maybe that was what Sammy needed to do for Bear. She missed him terribly too, and she’d just pulled out her phone to text him when Jeff called, “Can I clear this timing belt? Sammy?”
She rushed back into the garage and shooed him away from the computer. “No, I need that.” She put in the order for it, annoyed it would take until next Tuesday to get in the shop. Another phone call she’d have to make to a customer that wasn’t good news. If she hated something about her job, it was making those kind of calls.
The busyness around the shop picked up that afternoon, and Sammy was sweating when Lincoln came into the back singing at the top of his lungs.
“How was choir today?” Logan asked, and Sammy smiled at Lincoln as he said how great it was. She’d signed him up for an after-school program that met a couple of times a week. They were learning songs for a Christmas program, and then the choir would disband.
She half-listened while she did the payroll, because her men would expect to be paid tomorrow. If she got this put in tonight, she’d have checks to pick up at the bank on the way to work in the morning.
“…and I hope Bear comes,” Lincoln said, causing Sammy to lift her head. She couldn’t find her son, though, and she looked around. He sat on the trunk of one car while Logan worked on a nearby one, way in the corner of the shop.
Sammy got up and left the computer, listening. “Because we’re singing one of his favorite songs. He told me once he sang it when he was in elementary school.”
“Yeah?” Logan asked, clearly not really listening. “What song?”
“My Favorite Things,” Lincoln said. “And I get to hold up this package wrapped in brown paper. It’s going to be great.”
“That’s great,” Logan said.
Lincoln looked over his shoulder, and Sammy quickly turned to the tool chest on the back wall so he wouldn’t know she’d heard him.
“Yeah,” Lincoln said, his voice dropping. “Do you think you could help me talk to Bear? My mom won’t let me call him.”
Her heart squeezed and pounded at the same time, the box she’d stuffed it into far too small.
Logan said, “Well, Link, if your mom won’t let you, I’m not sure I should.”
Sammy turned and met his eye. He looked somewhat panicked, and she shook her head, hoping he’d get the right message.
He flicked his eyes to Lincoln and back to her. “Why won’t she let you call him?”
Lincoln’s slight shoulders lifted and fell. “I don’t know. She doesn’t talk to him anymore, and she said that means I can’t either.”
“Did they break up?” Logan looked at Sammy then, his eyes wide. She wasn’t sure why that annoyed her, only that it did. He didn’t have to look so surprised.
“I guess.” He jumped down from the trunk. “Sammy,” he said. “Can I get a snack from the vending machine? Or are we leaving soon?”
“We’re leaving soon,” Sammy said. “But get a dollar out of my purse and get something.” That would get him out of the garage for a minute or two. Once he was gone, Sammy turned back to Logan.
“Yes, we broke up. Sort of. I don’t really know.”
“How can you not know if you broke up with the man?” Logan asked.
“How do you know he didn’t break up with me?”
“Oh, please.” Logan laughed, the sound clear and loud—and highly irritating. “That man was in love with you, Sammy. If you two aren’t together anymore, that’s all you.” He folded his arms and lifted his right eyebrow. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
Sammy pressed her lips together and shook her head. He wasn’t wrong.
“Is that what you meant by I made a mistake?” he asked. “Because Sammy, if it was, you can fix that one.”
“Can I?”
“With Bear Glover? Absolutely.”
“Bear Glover?” Jeff repeated as he ducked in the back door. “Hoo, boy, it’s raining hard out there.”
Sammy hadn’t even noticed, but she looked at the water pouring down the glass in the garage doors.
“What about Bear? Did he stop by and pick up that hitch?”
“Hitch?” Sammy asked.
“Oh, never mind, that was Ranger,” Jeff said. “It’s right there, by the way. If he comes in.” He looked at Sammy. “I haven’t seen Bear for a while, actually.”
“Not a while,” Sammy said.
“Yes,” Jeff said, looking at Logan. “Something happen?”
“We don’t talk about these things,” Sammy said, turning away from her mechanics. The thing was, though, they were also her best friends.
“Yes, we do,” Jeff said. “Remember how you helped me with Trish? Let me help you with Bear.”
“Let us help you with Bear,” Logan said. The two of them stood shoulder-to-shoulder, and they wore such looks of hope on their faces. “Tell us the issue.”
Sammy swallowed, her chest vibrating in a weird way. “I got upset with him at the hospital.”
“Why?” Jeff asked.
“Because he was there,” Sammy said.
Jeff and Logan looked at one another. “I don’t get it,” Logan said.
“Yeah, I don’t either.” Sammy sighed and looked away. “I just…sometimes he makes me feel like I can’t handle the things in my life, and I may have told him that. He left. I haven’t seen him since.”
Jeff gaped at her, finally blinking a couple of times. “Okay, Sammy, let me help you understand how a man’s mind works.” He took a step toward her and put his arm around her shoulders. “Men like to solve problems. You tell us there’s something bothering you or you’re worried about something, and our first reaction is to find a solution. To do something. If you don’t want Bear to do that, you have to start the conversation with, ‘I don’t need you to solve this for me or do anything. I just need to vent for a second.’ Then, we can just listen.”
Sammy looked at Jeff, her eyes wide. “Are you serious?”
“Yes,” Jeff and Logan said at the same time.
“I didn’t need to vent,” she said. “I was stressed about my dad’s fall, and Bear was there, and I told him he didn’t need to come.”
“But we called Bear,” Logan said. “I think his cousin did too. Right? Why wouldn’t he come?” He looked so confused, and Sammy could only imagine how Bear felt.
“I made a lot of mistakes,” Sammy said. “So how do I fix them?”
“With Bear Glover?” Jeff asked. “You get a huge loaf of that Amish friendship bread from The Pennsylvania and you show up on his doorstep.”
“She doesn’t want to be friends with him,” Logan said.
“But Bear loves that bread,” Jeff said. “It’s not about what it’s called; it’s about knowing what he likes.” He beamed at her. “You taught me that.”
“Friendship bread,” Sammy mused. “I can do that.” The Pennsylvania was on her way home, for crying out loud. “Logan, could you take Lincoln tonight?”
“Definitely.” Logan grinned at her. “When are you going to go?”
“Right now,” Sammy said. “I’m going to go right now.” If she didn’t, she wouldn’t go at all.
“I’ll lock up,” Jeff said.
“I’ll finish this and take Link for cheeseburgers,” Logan said. “Carmen will love that she doesn’t have to cook.” He started texting his wife, and Sammy turned to tell Link he’d be going home with Logan that night.
She could do this. It was a stop at a bakery, a quick shower, and a thirty-minute drive. She could do all of that.
Her stomach hummed at her, and Sammy got moving. If she had a plan and a way to accomplish it, all she had to do was take the first step. She took it, and then another one. Before she knew it, she’d gotten the bread, taken the shower—and the time to put on a little makeup and blow out her hair—and she was on her way up to Shiloh Ridge Ranch.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Bear smiled down the gigantic picnic table on the deck that stretched out to the side of the homestead. It could easily seat twenty, and tonight, they had thirteen chatting, laughing, and eating. Aunt Dawna wasn’t feeling well, and her daughters had left her at the assisted living facility and come to the ranch alone.
Bishop had ordered entirely too much pizza, which was fine with Bear. He loved having a hot lunch, and this way, he could run home, pop a plate of pizza in the microwave, and get that hot food before he went back to work on the ranch.
Arizona had brought a watermelon she’d carved to make it look like a bouquet of flowers, and Bear popped one of the roses into his mouth.
Ward or Ace had said something funny, and the pod of men around them erupted into laughter. If there had been any neighbors surrounding the ranch, Bear would’ve told them to keep it down.
Happiness filtered through him, because he loved his family. He loved that they could get together and celebrate their ancestors, and he loved that even if they didn’t all get along all the time, they all still came.
Even Cactus had come, though he’d texted Bear privately to say he might not. He sat on the other side of Ranger, who sat next to Bear, and their end of the table had definitely been the quietest.
Ranger would not say what had happened at the dealership that afternoon, but he hadn’t come home with any new trucks either. So what did Oakley want? Bear had asked.
Ranger had just clamped his mouth shut, shook his head, and started getting out all the paper goods for their meal that night. Bear had let him, because he understood not wanting to talk about something—or someone—a whole lot. Cactus did too, and Bear looked at him.
“Do you think…?” He paused while both Ranger and Cactus looked at him. “Never mind.”
“No, ask it,” Ranger asked.
Bear shook his head. “I don’t want to put Cactus on the spot. I’ll ask him later.”
Cactus’s eyes widened for a moment. He dusted his hands of the cornmeal that Tuscany’s put on their pizza dough and said, “You can ask me.”
Bear glanced across the table, but it was really huge, and Ranger’s sisters seemed engaged in their own conversation with Arizona.
“Do you think you’d ever date again?” Bear asked. “I mean, I know you had this awful experience, and you loved Allison. I know that. I’m just wondering…I guess I’m hoping….” He looked at Ranger for help.
“He’s hoping he might be able to heal and find someone else,” Ranger said, his eyes bright and concerned.
“Why?” Cactus asked. “You and Sammy are amazing together.”
“They’re not together anymore,” Ranger said out of the side of his mouth.
It was almost like every conversation at the table came to a screeching halt, and then Cactus blurted out in the resulting silence, “What? You broke up with Samm
y?”
Every eye in the family flew to Bear, whose face grew as hot as his temper. He wanted to jump to his feet and upend the table before growling—no, roaring—like the grizzly everyone expected him to be. Then he’d stomp into his den and stay there for the winter.
“Cactus,” Ranger said, still just as quiet.
Bear got up, skipped turning over the table, and took his empty plate inside. It was paper, and all he had to do to clean up was toss it in the trash. He sighed as he did, hearing someone open the door and come in behind him. They let in plenty of chatter too, and Bear could only imagine what the family was talking about now. Him. Sammy. The lack of him and Sammy. His lack of being able to keep a girlfriend.
“I’m sorry,” Cactus said, coming to stand next to Bear at the island. “That was just a freaky weird coincidence.”
“It’s fine.”
“You’ve changed,” Cactus said, and Bear turned toward him.
“How so?”
“Six months ago, when you’d have gotten embarrassed like that, you’d have thrown something, yelled something, and stomped away.”
Bear couldn’t deny it. He’d acted rashly sometimes. Sometimes his temper got the better of him. Sometimes he just got so mad.
His fists started to clench, and he breathed in deeply through his nose.
“And yes,” Cactus said next. “If I could ever get up the courage to get off the ranch, and I met someone else, I think I could fall in love again.”
Bear’s surprise flowed deeply through him. “Let’s get you off the ranch then.”
Cactus smiled—one of the rare times he did—and he looked a decade younger. “I’m not ready for that.”
“What do you need to get ready?”
“A therapist and a lot of medication,” Cactus quipped, but Bear didn’t think he was joking.
“Well, someone better get married and start having babies,” Bear said. “Or Shiloh Ridge is going to be the only ranch with billions of dollars in the bank and no Glover to run it.”
Cactus let several seconds of silence go by. “What happened with Sammy?”
Bear didn’t want to talk about it, but he wanted a real, trusting relationship with Cactus. His brother had told him things no one else knew, and Bear trusted him.
