“I just can’t leave you here.” Bev Corey set her jaw, sounding as formidable as a federated wrestler instead of the tiny slip of a woman standing alongside the country road. “What if your car doesn’t start? Dear, I truly believe we should call a mechanic.”
Alexandra couldn’t help liking the woman. Bev Corey may be a stranger, but in the ten-minute trip from town, she almost felt like a friend. “Don’t worry. I’ve done this before. I’ll show you.”
“That’s what men are for—to keep cars running smoothly. And it’s my belief that’s what we should let them do. My Gerald is a hop and a skip up the road. Let me go hunt him down, and I’m sure he’ll be happy to fix this for you.”
“Thanks, but I can handle it. All I have to do is replace this hose, and I’ll be on my way.”
“That simply seems dangerous.” Bev took a tentative step forward, as if to keep far from the grease. “Engines explode, metal parts can burn you. There’s acid in the battery, you know. I don’t think it’s safe for you to be touching that.”
“The engine is cool and I’m far away from the battery.” Alexandra tugged the damaged hose loose. “Now I just fit this on here—”
“I’m not sure about this at all. Why, those are out-of-state plates. How far have you driven this poor car? I don’t know a thing about engines, but this certainly looks as if it needs a mechanic’s attention.” Bev shook her head, scattering the short, perfectly coiffed curls, which slipped back into place. “What were your parents thinking, to let you take off across country in a car like this?”
It seemed natural that Bev should ask, obviously being a motherly type. Still, it hurt to look back. Remembering couldn’t change the past or the family she’d been a part of. “I left home when I was seventeen and I’ve never went back.”
“Never?”
“No. I’m happier that way.” If it still made her sad, she tried not to feel it. She’d been fine all these years on her own, with the Lord’s help, and even though she’d had a rough time lately, that was all about to change. She was sure of it.
She changed the subject as she wrestled the hose into place. “Have you always lived here in Montana?”
“Goodness, yes. My family homesteaded the land in the 1880s. Five generations of Coreys have farmed that land. We grow potatoes and are proud of it. Montana is a fine place to live. Are you thinking about moving here?”
“It’s a possibility,” she admitted before she realized she’d spoken.
“Are you here looking for work?”
“I’m looking for the right opportunity.” Alexandra slammed the hood and tugged on it to make sure it was latched.
“So you’ve come to interview for a job?” Bev lit up. “Why, that’s wonderful. So many of our young people are moving away to the bigger cities. Are you interviewing right here in our town?”
“I don’t have an interview, not yet,” she corrected, wiping her hands on the edge of a rag. “I’m looking and hoping the right job comes along.”
“Trust in the Lord to see to it, dear. What kind of work do you do?”
“I clean houses.”
“Honest work. And hard work.”
Alexandra pulled her key from her pocket. “Thanks again for the ride. I’m glad I got to know you.”
“Don’t say your goodbyes yet. We’ll wait and see if that car of yours starts.” Bev looked doubtful as she eyed the rusty Volkswagen.
Alexandra unlocked the door, settled behind the wheel and turned the ignition. The engine didn’t roll over, so she pumped the gas—but not too much so she wouldn’t flood the carburetor.
She got out and once again moved to check the engine.
“Just as I thought.” Bev planted both hands on her hips, leaving her fine leather purse to dangle at her side. “That car isn’t drivable. Do you realize what a godsend it was that John gave me a call?”
“John called you? But I thought you were on your way to town—”
“And so I was. But John asked me to keep an eye out for you on my way in and give you a ride back to your car. He’s my oldest son. Always with a hand out to help, that’s our John. Land sakes, what are you doing now?”
“Cleaning off the battery terminals.” Alexandra bent over the engine compartment. “That’s probably why my car isn’t starting.”
It took only a few seconds to wipe the terminals down and tighten the connectors.
“Something tells me you’ve been on your own a long time.” Bev eased closer. “No boyfriend? No husband?”
“No husband. Yet.” But there had been a man who’d proposed to her after three years of dating. A man she’d been ready to marry.
Panic clawed in her chest and she said nothing more about Patrick. She wanted to forget him, to forget she’d ever known him. She slammed the hood and took a deep breath. “This should do it.”
“If it doesn’t start,” Bev warned, apparently expecting the worst, “then you’d best come with me and no arguments. I can’t in good conscience leave you here.”
“She’ll start.” Alexandra gave her car a pat on the dash and turned the ignition. The engine rolled over, coughing and sputtering, but that was normal. “See? I know she doesn’t look like much, but she really is a reliable car.”
“I don’t know about that!” Bev didn’t look convinced. “It’s Saturday afternoon, and it’s sure to be dark soon. What if this car of yours breaks down again?”
“Then I’ll fix it. The great part about having a car this old and uncomplicated is that I can fix nearly everything that can go wrong with it.” She liked Bev, and wished her own mother could have been more like the woman standing before her now. “I’ll be fine, so don’t worry. You’ve helped me more than you know.”
“I feel as if I haven’t done a thing. Maybe you should come home with me tonight. I’ve got a little rental cottage out behind the garage. It’s as tidy as could be.”
Alexandra bit her lip, not at all sure what to think. She’d been too long living in a city and had forgotten what it was like to live in a small town. Forgotten that in small towns, the world seemed kinder. It was hard to trust in that kindness—in the belief of that kindness.
Her chest ached, as if a part of the defensive wall around her heart crumbled a little. She’d learned long ago that kindness hurt, too, because sometimes it hid pity. “Thanks for the offer, but I want to reach Bozeman by nightfall. Once I’m there, I’ll see where my path takes me.”
“But you’re alone. How old can you be? Twenty?”
“I’m twenty-four.”
“Why, my youngest daughter is that age. I’d hate to think of her alone, driving across country in an unreliable car.” Bev opened her leather purse, which exactly matched her shoes. “Let me see…where is it? Here, my husband’s business card. You promise to give me a call tonight, when you get settled.”
“Sure.” Alexandra took the card and ran her thumb across the embossed letters.
Gerald Corey, Potatoes And Soybeans, it said, and listed an address and phone number. There were different logos, probably farmer organizations she didn’t know anything about, but she did know one thing. Bev was genuine in her caring.
It had been a long time since someone had truly cared about her. A long, lonely time.
Bev was a stranger, and she probably treated everyone she met this way. With warmth and concern. As if they were family.
“I’ll call when I’m settled,” Alexandra promised, tucking the business card into her back pocket.
As she settled behind the wheel, she couldn’t help feeling hopeful. That this short stop in this little town was a sign of things to come. Good things the Lord had in store for her.
It was hard to say goodbye, but she managed it. Harder still to put the little car in gear and ease onto the road. Waving, she shifted into Second, watching Bev grow smaller in the rearview mirror.
Alexandra felt as if she were leaving something of great value behind, and she didn’t know why. Bev Corey climbed into her luxury sedan, and then the road turned, taking Alexandra around a new corner and down a new path.