by Leah Atwood
Cute, comfortable and perfect for the park.
She swept her hair into a ponytail, securing it with a fabric covered elastic band. After grabbing a bottle of cold water from the fridge, she was on her way. The car radio blared one of Bryce’s older songs. In the last week, she’d bought all of his albums and could sing along with every song. A tidbit of information she planned on keeping to herself.
Huh? What just happened? She was the only one singing. The radio had died. She pushed buttons and turned knobs, trying to get the power back on with no luck. The lighted gauges on her dash began to flicker and she felt the car losing power.
Uh-oh.
Before the car completely died, she drifted and steered her small sedan into the closest parking lot. Her car was dead. She switched the key to off and then forward again, trying to restart the engine. Nothing.
No. No. No.
She let it sit a few minutes and tried again. Still nothing.
Sitting in the parking lot all day wasn’t going to accomplish anything, but she was several miles from her house. She had no choice but to call Bryce and cancel the park. Then she’d have to call a tow truck. Briefly, she thought of calling her dad on the chance he could offer troubleshooting that would fix the problem without a mechanic. Tempting, because she knew he wouldn’t leave his little girl stranded and would insist on coming to her rescue, even from an hour away. No, she was an adult—she’d handle this on her own even if it meant a large tow and repair bill. She tried not to cringe at the astronomical amount it was sure to be.
Bryce’s phone went to his voicemail. She was leaving him a message when the other line beeped in. He was calling her back.
“Hey, I was just leaving you a message.”
“What’s up?”
“I’m going to have to back out of going to the park.” Saying the words ate at her—she’d been looking forward to it. They had such little time remaining before he left. “My car broke down. I’m going to have to call a tow truck.”
“Where are you?”
“The Winn-Dixie parking lot.”
“Don’t call a tow truck. I’ll be right there.”
“You don’t have to do that,” she objected. She hated to be an inconvenience.
He ignored her protests, reiterating, “Stay put. Give me five minutes and I’ll be there.”
It was becoming stuffy inside her car, especially with the inability to put down the windows thanks to the power mechanism being dead as well. She grabbed her keys and waited outside the vehicle until she saw Bryce’s truck turn into the lot. He pulled in and parked so that the two vehicles were hood to hood.
Gracie waved at her from the rear seat. “Hi, Miss Sophie,” she called out through her opened window.
She waved back. “Hi, Gracie. Thank you for coming to my rescue.”
The little girl beamed. Such a sweetheart. She turned back to the car and saw Bryce popping the car’s hood. “What happened?”
“The radio died, then the gauge lights flickered and then it lost power. I was able to steer it into here, but it won’t start.”
“Where are your keys?”
She tossed them over to him. With half his body in her car, half out, he put the key in the ignition switch and turned it. Same results for him.
“Sounds like the alternator. Do you have jumper cables?” He was already standing back up.
“In the trunk.” She popped the lever to release that latch.
“I’ll give you a jump. Once it starts, we’ll take the cables off and let it run a few minutes to see if it’s your battery or alternator.”
She took his word for it—she had no idea how that would tell the difference. “What do I need to do?”
“When I tell you to, try to start your car but not before.” He connected all the cables, then got behind his steering wheel. A few minutes later he leaned his head out the window. “Try starting it.”
She turned the key, relieved when the engine started. Bryce hopped out, coming to join her. “Don’t get too excited. It needs to stay running.”
“Thanks for coming to my rescue. Sorry to ruin your time at the park with Gracie.”
Warm shivers shot through her when he placed a hand on her arm. His eyes darkened the way she learned they always did right before a serious moment. “Stop acting like you’re being a nuisance, okay? Do you really think I’d leave you stranded here?”
Restless under his branding gaze, she averted her eyes. “I need to learn how to take care of things on my own.”
“Wouldn’t be a bad idea, but today you don’t have to.”
Today. But what about next week? Next month? Three more days and he’d be gone. She’d been living in a fantasy the last week and all it took was a failed alternator to bring reality crashing down.
As if reading her thoughts, her car died again.
“Hop in my front seat. We’ll stop by the auto parts store and pick you up a new alternator. Do you have a tool kit by chance?”
“No,” she answered sheepishly. Her father insisted she keep one in the trunk, but she couldn’t find a screwdriver in the house last week and had taken in the kit, forgetting to return it to the car.
“I’ll stop by Gram and Gramps, drop Gracie off and pick up some tools. Then we’ll come back and switch it out for you.”
“Really, Bryce, you don’t have to do that.” She protested too vehemently. Why couldn’t she accept his help without a fight?
He eyed her, a trace of irritation in his tightened smile. “What else do you suggest? Pay a mechanic an overpriced fee when I can do it for you?”
“Yes. I can’t take you away from Gracie when you’re leaving so soon.”
Understanding flickered in Bryce’s eyes. “Gracie and I will have the entire evening together at my aunt and uncle’s. Let me do this for you and then we’ll go somewhere and talk.”
She opened her mouth to object, but he placed a finger on her lips. “Please. Don’t give up on us like this,” he pleaded.
Was that what she was doing? Subconsciously, maybe.
“Okay,” she muttered, a belt tightening around her heart.
In a vain attempt to cover her turbulent emotions, she feigned a smile and took a seat in the front passenger seat. With a turn of her head, she looked back to Gracie. “I heard you can do magic.”
Given that invitation, Gracie set off on multiple tangents, chattering nonstop and acting oblivious to the tension.
Bryce steered the truck onto a driveway lined with mature pecan trees. The row of trees came to an end, leading to a crescent-shaped drive in front of a simplistically beautiful house. Built in Acadian style, the front boasted a large porch, complete with rocking chairs. Four windows on the bottom floor were accentuated with olive green shutters and surrounded the focal point, an entry door made of cypress. Three dormers with windows jutted out from the top level.
“This is your grandparents’ place?” It was incredible, like it belonged on the cover of a home and garden magazine.
“Yes,” he answered in a weary tone then did a one-eighty, and jumped out to open Gracie’s door. “Come on, Gracie. You’re going to stay with Gram while I fix Miss Sophie’s car.”
“But I want to go with you,” Gracie whined.
“Grumpy girls don’t get to see their aunt and uncle tonight,” he warned, but Sophie had doubts he’d carry through with the threat.
Gracie was unconvinced and chewed on her bottom lip, considering if it was worth pushing the issue. “Okay.”
“I’ll be right back.” He threw the words over his shoulder.
Alone in the truck, her stomach churned. Days of bliss were going downhill. She should cut her losses now before she fell any deeper. For all she knew, her feelings had snowballed at a higher rate than his. He hadn’t even kissed her, and he’d had every opportunity Saturday night when he’d come over to watch a movie.
Her brain wasn’t working, that much was obvious. Her heart was causing too much interference. A relat
ionship took a lot of work without all the extenuating factors Bryce and she would face—the short time they’d known each other, the opposite worlds they lived in, his role as a parent. There was a lot to wrap her head around in such a short time.
Bryce was right. They really needed to talk. One thing she knew for sure, defying all logic and sensibility, she didn’t want to cut her losses with him. She wanted to take this ride with him and see where it led, even if it meant putting her heart on the line and releasing her safety raft.
Her gaze scanned the property, searching for him. She spotted him exiting a shed type outbuilding, a tool box in hand. Her heart lurched, watching him walk back to her. The mental image of the first day they’d met materialized from her memory. Funny, how she’d thought he was attractive but not her type. True, every guy she’d dated prior to him, Ryan being the only serious one, had fallen along the preppy and clean-cut spectrum. Nothing like Bryce at all.
He placed the toolbox in the bed before hopping back in the truck’s cab. “Do you prefer one auto parts store over the other?”
“The mom and pop one on Main,” she answered. Oden Bridge offered two competing stores, one chain and one locally owned. When possible, she tried to support the small business.
“Okay.” He continued looking forward, not at her. Barely even a glance since he’d stepped back in.
“I’m sorry about earlier,” she apologized, tired of the strain. Time was too precious. “You were right. Everything’s happened so fast and now it’s already going to change.”
“I know,” he uttered, his left elbow propped against the door. “Believe me, finding someone like you, anyone for that matter, was the last thing I expected to happen. I have enough complications right now. I didn’t need to add more.”
Hot tears pricked behind her eyes. “Gee, thanks.”
A frustrated growl emitted from deep in Bryce’s throat. “I’m sorry, Sophie. That didn’t come out right. What I’m trying to say, not very well, is that even though I didn’t anticipate meeting you, I don’t regret it for a second.”
“That sounds a little better.” She blinked away the moisture collecting at the corners of her eyes and gave him a half smile.
Reaching over, he took her hand, rubbing circles into her skin. “I mean it. I believe God brought us together.”
“Me too,” she whispered.
“Let’s take care of your car and get that done. I’ll follow you back to your house afterwards, make sure the car stays running, and we’ll talk more, okay?”
“Sure you can fix it?” No one but her dad or a certified mechanic had ever worked on her car.
“Oh ye, of little faith.” Humor returned to him. “I worked at an auto repair shop through high school, one owned by a friend’s old man. My parents hated it, but I loved it. Once I graduated high school, I stayed on during my four years at college.”
New facts about him to tuck away, surprising ones. “I didn’t peg you as the college type.”
He smirked, casting a wry look her way. “I wasn’t and probably spent more time partying than studying, but it was a last ditch effort to please my parents.”
“Did it work?”
“Not at all and that’s when I finally stopped caring. Two weeks after graduation I packed up and moved to Nashville, following a dream. Six years later, it’s been a wild ride.”
He didn’t disguise the hurt well enough for her not to catch it. His parents’ rejection meant more than he would acknowledge. The full dynamics weren’t disclosed to her, but it made her sad. Her own parents had been nothing but supportive of her decisions for life. “That would make you twenty-eight?”
“You weren’t kidding you didn’t look up much on google.” His cheeks rose, holding back a laugh, and she could see he was amused. “To answer your question— twenty-seven.”
“We really don’t know each other well.” And a fine time she chose to highlight that.
They’d just pulled into the parking lot and Bryce stared at her. “We know enough of what matters. We know what’s in here.” He touched his hand, opened palm, to his heart. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-four.”
“Birthday?”
“October eleventh.”
“You’re joking, right?”
“No, why?”
“Because that means we share a birthday.”
For the first time in an hour, she smiled. Genuinely smiled. She’d never been one to believe in signs, preferring to seek God’s guidance, but it gave her a small measure of comfort to share a birthday with him. It was something in common when they had so many differences.
“What’s your favorite food?”
“Biscuits and gravy.”
“Spoken like a true southerner. Movie?” Questioning him kept her mind off the inevitable conversation about him leaving.
“True Grit.”
“Original or remake.”
Throwing her a wink first, his face became very serious. “Girl, if we’re going to be together, you must accept that there is only one legitimate True Grit, and that one starred the Duke.”
Obviously, his loyalty to John Wayne ran deep. Her arms flew up in mock surrender and she laughed. “Okay, I retract my previous question.”
“Quiz time over so can we get your alternator before the store closes?”
“For now. Think of it as to be continued.”
“You can ask me anything you want once your car is running again. Do you have problems with it often?”
“No, not really. Just a flat tire once and a dead battery.” She crooked a finger to her chin, trying to remember if there had been any other troubles. “That’s all I can remember. My dad gives it a once-over every time I go home.”
“Is your spare a donut or full size?”
“Donut.”
His eyes crinkled. “Are you a Triple A member?”
“No, but I pay extra on my insurance for roadside assistance.”
“Good.”
She nudged him in the ribs. “Now who’s playing twenty questions?”
“Just trying to make sure you’re taken care of.”
“I’ve been up here for two years on my own, Bryce. I’ve survived. In a pinch, someone from church or school would help.”
“But that was before we met. I take care of what’s mine, okay?”
“Yours?” She raised her eyebrows. His second reference insinuating them as an item created flutters through her stomach.
He only smiled in response, then exited, coming around to open her door. Old-fashioned in many ways, she liked his displays of chivalry, the feeling someone wanted to look after her. She could have handled the situation on her own, albeit with a higher price tag, but that didn’t negate the satisfying feeling of someone caring about her.
Back at her car, she stood by him as he replaced the alternator. An hour later, he placed the old one inside the box of the new one. “Take this back tomorrow, and you can get your core charge refunded. I’d do it now, but we don’t have time if we’re going to talk.” He held out greasy hands. “Can you do me a favor? Behind my rear seat, there is a roll of paper towels. Would you mind pulling them out for me, please?”
“Sure.” She retrieved the towels and tore off a few sheets and handed them over. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” He rubbed the fibers against his palms and fingers where the black gunk was concentrated.
She tore off another sheet, dabbing it against his cheek. “You missed a spot.”
Bryce’s hand rose, catching her wrist. She froze in place, the paper towel still brushed against his cheek. His eyelashes lowered, his eyes looking at her from under them. Close enough for their breath to mingle. He squeezed his eyes shut, and pinched his lips as if fighting for control. To her keen disappointment, he dropped her arm and stepped away.
He searched for her keys in his pocket, pulled them out, and handed them to her. “Let’s start her up, see how she does.”
She put the key in the ig
nition and turned it. Purred like a kitten.
With one hand on the opened door, Bryce stood over her. “I’ll follow you back to your house. Anything funny happens, the lights dim— that kind of thing, pull over.”
The short drive back to her house went without incident. She parked her car, looking in her rear-view mirror at Bryce in his truck behind her. His head was bowed, lips moving. Mesmerized, she couldn’t turn away. Their eyes locked when he looked up and caught her. She looked away, getting out of her car and going to unlock her front door.
“How’d it run?” he asked, coming up behind her.
“Great. No problem at all.”
“Good.”
Chapter 9
A wren flittered across the lawn, intermittently dipping its beak to the ground. Bryce sat in a patio chair, staring at the small bird but not heeding it. His mind was elsewhere, on the hard conversation facing him. Sophie walked through the door, carrying two mason jars of sweet tea. She handed one to him, then sat down in the chair he’d pulled close to his.
Both her hands gripped the glass container, and she sat with an elbow on each armrest. She regarded the wren as he had, with a glassy stare following the two-legged creature.
“I’ve done a lot of thinking,” he began. “I can’t continue keeping this part of my life a secret. When I get back to Nashville, I’m going to tell Caroline and the band about Gracie and the circumstances revolving around her. I can trust them not to leak it to the media yet. I also need to tell them I’m a Christian.”
Sophie set her glass down on the cement, looking at him oddly. “You haven’t told them that either?”
“No.”
“But you told me the first day we met, before we even knew each other’s names.” Her cheeks puckered with confusion.
“That was different. You didn’t know my past, who I’d been.” His fingers laced together, his thumbs fidgeted. “I’m not ashamed of following Christ, but I’m still ashamed of the person I was. My life was tossed in a blender and I wasn’t even sure I’d come out alive. I needed time to know my faith wasn’t a crutch for me.”
