by Vella Day
Randy held up a hand. “One more thing. I called the station this morning. Had I known you were in charge, I would have contacted you, too.”
“That’s okay. What did you find?” It was probably the information Dan had told him.
“The man was covered in stage make-up, a wig, and extra padding. Strangest damn thing.”
From Randy’s raised brows, his curiosity had gotten the better of him, but it wasn’t Max’s place to explain. “Interesting. Appreciate the help.”
“Anytime.” A nurse rushed over to the doctor and informed Randy that an ambulance had just delivered a car crash victim. “Gotta go. Don’t be a stranger.”
“You bet.” Max hadn’t socialized as much as he’d have liked in the last few months. While he’d played a game or two of darts and shared a couple of drinks with Randy, Max had been too busy finishing his fire science degree to do more.
He should probably go back upstairs and question Jamie about Mr. FBI Man, but she’d be less likely to talk about her friend with him in the room. Max decided to speak with her tomorrow.
He stepped outside. Crap. The air temp had dropped at least ten degrees. He’d hoped the cold front heading this way would hold off until after the weekend, but it didn’t appear it would.
As he made his way to his SUV, he heard curses coming from the far end of the lot. Max stopped, looked around, and then spotted a raised car hood. He wove his way over to see if he could help.
When he neared the actual car, he stopped. Oh, no. Jamie had her head under the hood. That sucked. Poor girl had just experienced an attempted break-in at the clinic, seen a friend suffer a horrible fate, and now this. She’d have to be mighty strong to endure three setbacks in such a short period of time, but she didn’t need his pity.
When he made it to her parking spot, Jamie was shifting her butt right and left. He swallowed a chuckle at her action. She didn’t seem like the ass-wiggling type, nor did she seem like someone who would know a spark plug from a brake line.
When she planted her foot on her calf, an overwhelming rush of interest invaded his bloodstream. Damn, she was doing it again to him—just like at the wedding. Max had dated a lot of women over the years, but he hadn’t been looking for someone special. He’d cut off that part of his brain, waiting until he’d found the arsonist who’d burned his family home. With that man in jail, he was ready to resume his life, only Max’s emotional cells had yet to fire—until now. Too bad the timing sucked. Rock Hard needed him to do a job.
Max cleared his throat to let her know he was near. “Need help?”
She stiffened, shot out from under the hood, and turned around. Her long inhale implied she was warring with herself. “No.” She paused. “Thank you. Grayson can be temperamental sometimes, but I’ve always managed to get him started.”
A chuckle escaped. She named her car? “Grayson?” Max hadn’t seen this whimsical side of her before, but he liked it.
Her chin lifted. “That’s his name.”
“Mind if I take a look? I’m rather handy with engines.”
“Really?”
“When I was sixteen, I took apart an old clunker. Would have been able to put it back together again if my grandmother hadn’t decided that my summer project took up too much garage space. She dumped all the pieces in one big bin. Never did get it to run properly, but I sure learned a lot.”
She clamped a hand over her mouth and laughed. “Seriously?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Did she apologize?”
“Not my nannie. Said I should have known better.”
Jamie smiled. “She sounds wise.”
“Not to a sixteen-year old she didn’t. So, do you want my help or not?”
“I’m good.”
Of all the women he’d ever known, he’d never met one who turned down help—especially when it came to cars. But if Jamie thought she could fix it without any tools, he’d stay for the show. Her decision to repair the car herself was a good sign. Her actions indicated someone who wasn’t a victim anymore. Maybe their little talk had helped.
Folding his arms across his chest, he leaned against the car parked next to hers. Rich didn’t expect him at the firehouse for another hour, but he bet Jamie had patients to treat at the clinic. If she didn’t hurry, she’d be late.
God, but she was cute. Tiny, wiry, and with just the right amount of spunk. Now more than ever, he wanted to know who this woman was. She fascinated him.
Jamie continued to push and pull at the wires as if the car would miraculously start. “Would you like me to give you a jump?”
She kept her head averted. “If I jiggle the right wires, I can get it started. It’s always worked before.” Her focus and good intentions were admirable. He hoped she succeeded, but in his experience, randomly tugging on wires didn’t solve many engine problems. When she seemed content with her attempt, she stood. “Let’s see if that worked.”
Her satisfied smirk sent another unwanted spark straight through him. What was it about this woman that pushed him off balance?
Don’t even answer that.
Max zipped up his coat, fearing the dreaded storm might come sooner rather than later. She yanked open her door, hopped in, and cranked the engine. It made a grinding and freewheeling noise, like the starter or possibly the solenoid had gone bad. That would set her back both time and money.
Stubborn set to her jaw, she got out again, and ran her hands up and down her arms. Only then did he notice how thin her jacket was. He unzipped his coat, slipped it off, and placed his jacket over her shoulders.
“What the—” Her eyes practically crossed. “Now you’ll be cold.”
“You’re welcome.”
She smiled and her pretty blue eyes sparkled. “Thank you.”
“I hate to bring this up, but if you don’t call AAA, you’ll miss work.”
Her hands fisted. “Don’t have that.” She acted embarrassed, as if he’d judge her.
It didn’t matter if she did. Not only did he have roadside assistance, he’d recently performed the inspection on their building, and had made friends with Emily, the woman in charge of towing. He bet she’d help. He pulled out his phone, made the call, and explained the situation.
“Let me see.” He heard keys tapping over the line. “Carl is out on a job now, and it seems Pritchard hasn’t showed up for work yet. As soon as Devlon gets back, I’ll send him out.”
“How long?”
“I’m guessing ‘bout an hour if you’re lucky.”
“I’ll be here. I need to run an errand, but I’ll return before your guy arrives. Thanks.” The whole time he chatted with Emily, Jamie continued to fiddle with the engine, but given the tilt of her head, she was listening to his every word. The big question was how she’d respond to his offer of help.
He disconnected. “Tow truck will be here in an hour.”
“I heard, but I could have called someone.”
Yes, but she hadn’t. She had an interesting set of values. Given how she’d come early to the hospital, she didn’t want to be late to work. On the other hand, he bet it bothered the hell out of her to let anyone give her assistance. He didn’t know which path she’d choose.
He wanted to make it easy on her. “How about if I drop you off at the clinic and come back here to wait for the tow?”
She finally faced him, her gaze shooting right then left. “You’d do that?”
“Sure. I like doing nice things for a beautiful woman.” I so didn’t let that slip. Shit. Now she’d think he was trying to pick her up. Which he was, in a way.
“You talking to me?”
Her very bad Al Pacino imitation hit some mental funny bone, and he dropped back his head and laughed. “You are something else, Jamie Henderson. I promise I won’t take advantage of you on the short drive there.” Max had no idea what was going through her head, but given her recent episode at the clinic, safety had to be paramount on her mind.
She nodded. “I apprec
iate it. But how will I get home without my car?” She held up a palm. “Never mind. I can call a friend.”
“I’ll give you a lift to your house. I have a feeling your car might need a new starter. If that’s the case, it could be a few days for them to repair it. They might even have to order the part.”
“Like I need this?” She bit her bottom lip. “How will I visit Jonathan?”
She’d given him the perfect segue to ask about the mystery man, but his cop instinct told him this wasn’t the right time.
“Let’s get you to work, and your car to the shop. After you find out what’s wrong, you can come up with a plan.”
She let out a large breath. “Thank you. Ever since yesterday, I’ve not been myself.”
“I understand.” He really did. Except he’d been out of sorts for years instead of days. Being able to help someone was like having a small hole in a fogged window wiped clean.
She handed him the ignition key, and then followed him to his SUV. He held open her door, and while the women he dated enjoyed the chivalry, he never had the sense they really cared one way or the other. With Jamie, he bet she’d like it. The woman had principles.
After meeting her in the hallway, and then watching her try to fix her car, Max was looking forward to finding out what made Jamie Henderson tick.
* * *
Seeing Jonathan so injured had been torture enough, but having Grayson breakdown set Jamie’s nerves on edge. She settled back in Max’s car, crossed her arms, and rested her elbows on her purse. “If I’d had more time, I would have been able to fix my beloved car, you know.”
He chuckled. “You couldn’t have fixed a starter, Miss Car Expert.”
“Oh, yeah?” Flirting with a man like Max was kind of fun. He’d been too serious at the wedding, but when he’d watched her work, there was something easy about him that she liked. She’d love to prove him wrong, but she had a feeling he was right about her car. That grinding noise did sound like a bad starter. Crap.
“Yeah.” His smile widened.
“Does seeing someone in trouble always bring you such joy?” She kept her tone light, so he could tell she was teasing.
He pointed to his chest as if she were accusing him of some terrible deed. “No joy on my part. You looked like you had everything under control. I was there as backup.”
“I know. I appreciate your faith in my talents.” She would have been really late if he hadn’t offered to wait around for the tow.
“Ever think of getting a new car?” Max asked as casually as could be.
She twisted so her back was against the door. He’d touched on a sore spot. “My car has another one or two hundred thousand miles left on him.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed. “That might be, but at what cost? First it’s the starter then it’s the timing belt, new tires, and new brakes. And don’t forget the clutch, assuming it’s a stick shift.”
His concern had merit. Of late, Grayson had become more and more temperamental. But new cars cost money. “It is, but I’ll take my chances.”
He drummed his fingers on the wheel for a moment. “Why is this car so important to you?”
Max was good. Intuitive. He really seemed to listen, and to understand. “The car belonged to my dad before he died.”
Like a cloud passing over the sun, his face darkened. Darn. Max might still have issues of his own, but she never intended to remind him of his own loss. Way to go. He had been so nice driving to the hospital before work to check on Jonathan, and then offering his aid. She needed to think before she spoke.
Max’s gaze remained unerringly on the road ahead, even when they’d stopped at a light. Talk to him. “Did the ER doc tell you anything about what happened to Jonathan?” That was a safe topic.
His jaw tightened, as if he was debating how much to reveal. “Yes. Sorry. I meant to tell you, but I got distracted. Dr. Carstead confirmed that a burning board landed on your friend’s shoulder. He also said someone hit him in the back of the head, which knocked him out.” Max glanced over at her.
“Oh, my God. That was why they cut his hair. To clean the wound. It also explains why he didn’t run out of the warehouse when it caught fire.”
“I thought the same thing. Did Jonathan ever say if someone wanted to harm him?”
“No. We didn’t talk much about personal issues.” She looked out the window, trying to figure out if Jonathan’s ramblings referred to what happened to him. “Do you think the owner of the building tried to evict him?”
“Doubtful. We interviewed him, and he kind of freaked when we told him about Jonathan’s injuries.”
“Oh.”
With nothing more to say, she kept quiet, trying to decide if Jonathan’s strange words had been important. She never remembered anyone mentioning numbers in their sleep. What could forty-seven refer to?
Before she could come with even up one possibility, they approached the clinic. Only then did she realize she was still wearing Max’s coat. She peeled it off and set it between them. The leather was old, but well loved. It even had some burn marks on the sleeve. “Looks like someone else likes to keep things for a long time.” Two could play at the game.
“My wife gave that to me.” The tension in his voice was as taught as a steel wire.
Fuck. Now she’d done it. “It was really, ah, warm. Thank you.”
Admit it. I suck at interacting with someone new. Not that she was looking to date Max in particular, but she was tired of putting her life on hold. After the incident with the break-in, she wanted to be more proactive. Too bad the whole idea of starting again was not only unsettling, it was downright scary.
Chapter Seven
Max stopped right in front of the clinic, and put the car in park. “You should consider wearing something more substantial next time. Your jacket looks thin.”
Max reminded her of her dad. Every time she went out to play in the snow, her father would insist she wear her mittens and hat.
“I was in a hurry this morning and didn’t think about the forecast. I do have warmer gear.”
“Bundle up tomorrow. There’s supposed to be a storm coming.”
“I will, thanks.” Max was a kind man. And a considerate one, too. He was also really good looking, and the combination of compassion and physical appeal had her senses reeling.
Max nodded. “Once I make sure your vehicle has been taken care of, I’ll give you a call when it’s on its way to the shop.”
“Thanks, again.” This Max Gruden was different from the man at the wedding. This side of him she liked. A lot.
The tension across his face eased. “I’ll also let you know when I hear what’s wrong with Grayson.”
His use of the Subaru’s nickname spiked her pulse for a second. “I appreciate it.”
She should be calling the shop, but since she didn’t know where her car would end up, she’d let Max help one more time.
Jamie pushed open the car door and hurried into the clinic before he had the chance to set up a time to pick her up. If she could find someone else to take her home, she wouldn’t have to inconvenience him. Hell, she probably should just call a cab, but the fifteen-dollar fare would eat into her budget. The free clinic didn’t pay like the hospital did.
As soon as Jamie stepped into the waiting room, the familiar surroundings brought her some peace. With a quick glance at the few patients who were waiting, she headed into the back, and tried to push aside thoughts of the enigmatic, but intriguing Max Gruden.
Her first patient needed some blood work, the second antibiotics for an infected toe, and the third a few eardrops. The simple chores helped center her again.
The rest of the morning continued as usual, for which she was grateful. Max had called around eleven, but she’d been with a patient and hadn’t been able to talk. His voice message said her car was at Richardson’s Automotive, and that they’d have an estimate by the close of today. She had hoped they would have repaired her car by then, but she wasn’t h
olding her breath.
Around one, she finally had the chance to take lunch. She was halfway to the door when she remembered she didn’t have her car. Crap. She blew out a breath and spun around.
Her coworker, Sasha Langley, was standing there, purse in hand. She raised a brow. “Forgot you don’t have Grayson?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“I’m on my way to lunch. I can drive.”
“That would be great.”
They managed to get the same lunch hour about twice a week and usually ate together. Jamie had wanted some solitude to think about the break-in, the terrible fire, her broken car, and Max Gruden, but she’d have to put that off until tonight. Jamie would have suggested a drive through, but when Sasha was on one of her diets—which she was right now—she refused to stop at one. “Where do you want to go?”
“Valley Café?”
“Sure.” Jamie loved the place. They left, hustled across the street, and slipped into Sasha’s car that she’d parked in front of the recently shut down bookstore. “Valley Café will be crowded, you know.”
Sasha shrugged. “Every good place will be.”
Jamie was about to suggest Italiano’s until she remembered Zoey had said that was where Max liked to dine. Running into him might look like she was chasing him, which she most definitely was not. “Valley Café it is.”
There wasn’t much traffic until they reached town, where finding a parking spot was harder than walking on ice in heels. The best Sasha could do was find a spot a few blocks away. By the time they reached the inside of the restaurant, Jamie’s hands and feet were nearly frozen. “Brr. I thought spring was on its way.”
“It was, until a big cold front decided to visit us from Canada.”
That was what Max had said. “Great. Snow’s pretty to look at, great to play in, but horrible to walk in when you’re not bundled up.”
“This is Montana, girl. Get used to it.”
They snagged the last available booth. Once they ordered drinks, Sasha dropped her napkin on her lap. “How’s your friend Jonathan doing?”
They hadn’t had a chance to catch up today. “Not so good. He’s heavily sedated, but at least he’s not intubated anymore.”
