His Hometown Girl

Bingo. He’d found supper. Even if it was two beef franks, heavily iced in their original package stuck to the empty ice tray, which was iced to the bottom of the freezer. This was not a problem—he was ingenious and he had a knife.

Using it like a chisel, he inserted the blade’s tip between the thick bed of ice and the frozen franks. Cold air wheezed across his face as he leveled a careful blow.

The phone rang—the shop phone. It was work and he couldn’t ignore it. Reluctantly he set down the knife and knocked the freezer shut with the flat of his hand. A meal, air-conditioning and time to relax—was it too much to ask?

He grabbed the old black phone in the corner by the door.

“Zach’s Garage.” He tucked the receiver between his ear and his shoulder.

“I know it’s late.” Karen’s voice came across the line, tight with strain. “But remember that offer of help you made? I could really use it.”

“You called the right man. Don’t tell me your engine went and died, just like I said.”

“Okay, I won’t, but that’s why I’m calling.” Static crackled across the line. “No one at home is answering the phone. They’re probably outside on the deck, so I’m stranded. I’m at the grocery store.”

“I’ll be right there.”

“Thanks, Zach.”

“No problem. That’s what friends are for.” He eased the receiver into the cradle and grabbed his keys.

Dinner could wait. Relaxing could wait. Karen needed him. Even if it was only as a mechanic, only as a friend.

He grabbed a clean shirt before heading out the door.

He spotted her sitting on the curb the minute he turned onto Railroad Street. The night breezes ruffled her silken hair around her delicate face. Her slender shoulders slumped with either exhaustion or defeat. He couldn’t tell which.

She turned at the sound of his truck and waved. Behind her, the lights of the closed grocery store were dim and cast a faint glow over her, emphasizing her willowy shape. She stood, holding a plastic grocery bag in one hand.

He stopped the tow truck in the middle of the road and leaned out the window. “Hey, good lookin’. Need a lift?”

Her new blond locks danced against the side of her face, driven by the wind. “Do you like the new me?”

“There was nothing wrong with the old you.” He reached for his door to climb down and assist her, but it was too late to help her in. She was already breezing through the beams of the truck’s headlights, so he leaned across the seat and opened the door. He gave it a shove for her because it was heavy. “What’s with Helen? I saw her new hairdo.”

“Gramma is having a midlife crisis three decades too late.”

“Good. Everyone needs to try something new now and then.”

Flashing him a grin, Karen climbed inside the cab as if she were used to climbing into big trucks. And then Zach remembered she was a ranch girl and had probably helped her father in the fields through the years by driving hay trucks and tractors.

What would it have been like to grow up as she did, with a solid and close-knit family and hundreds of acres of land to roam on? It was a far cry from living at the edge of town where he’d called a singlewide trailer home. And where he’d struggled to take care of his younger brother and sister.

The bench seat dipped slightly with her weight. The air-conditioning circulated her vanilla and baby shampoo scent. Yes, a man had to have hope. That’s all it was—hope—and not the right to be more than a friend.

Not knowing what to say, Zach released the clutch. The truck eased down the street in a smooth rumble.

He headed north, away from the lights of the small town where rolling fields stretched into the deepening twilight. The roar of the engine and the whir of the cool air through the cab covered up the silence that fell between them. But it didn’t change the fact that she was sitting next to him with only two feet between them.

Yes, it was good for a man to have hope.

“What are you looking at?” she asked, her hand flying to the sassy ends of her hair. “You hate this, don’t you? I can’t get used to looking at myself.”

“Neither can I.” He fought the urge to tell her just how great she looked. He thought her beautiful before, but she looked better now. Not because her hair was different, but because there was a sparkle in her eyes he hadn’t seen in a long while.

“Gramma forced me into this.”

“She strong-armed you, did she?”

“She guilted me into it. Works every time.” Karen shook her head and her jaunty locks swept her slim shoulders. “I’m a soft touch when it comes to her.”

“When it comes to everyone.”

“Sometimes.” She looked unhappy, and he never much thought about the pressures she might face always looked to as one of the well-behaved McKaslin girls, even now when she’d been an adult for many years.

“I have the same problem,” he confessed with a grin. “I’m always a real softhearted guy. That’s why I drive my motorcycle through town at least once a week. So no one suspects the real me.”

“It’s a good disguise. It fools a lot of people, but not me.”

“Really? Maybe I shouldn’t have left the leather jacket at home.” He tossed her a grin as he slowed down to turn into her family’s long gravel driveway.

How she liked Zach’s smile. Kind and warm with a hint of charm, and when his smile touched his eyes, she could see the goodness in him. In fact, there was a lot to like about the man.

Aside from being a dependable friend, he was probably the most handsome man in town. He’d certainly been considered the best-looking boy in her high school class. All the years since had only improved him.

Even in the dark interior of the truck and silhouetted by the encroaching night, he looked amazing. His profile was strong with a dark shock of hair tumbling over his forehead, a straight nose and a well-carved jaw. Just looking at him made her pulse drum.

Zach slowed the truck down to take the final corner of her parents’ long gravel driveway. She looked through the windshield and saw her family’s home up on the knoll. The lit windows shone like beacons in the descending darkness.

The truck eased to a stop in front of her house, and the silence between them lengthened. Light from the house spilled through the open windows to cast a glow on the trimmed juniper bushes lining the driveway.

She didn’t want to walk through that door. The pressure of her parents’ disappointment in her pressed like an anvil against her chest.

“I can take that in if you want.” His voice startled her, and his big warm hand curled over hers.

His heat seared her like a jolt of electricity and she jumped at the contact. Then she realized he wasn’t trying to hold her hand. He was taking the plastic bag from her grip.

To her amazement, he opened the door and hopped from the cab. His boots crunched in the gravel and then tapped on the brick walk. The light from the windows burnished him with a golden glow. His silhouette was impressive—broad shoulders, wide back, tapered hips and long legs.

He was all male, that was for sure. Hard and strong and powerful. Something she’d never quite noticed to this degree before.

Her heart kicked for some unexplained reason, and she fled into the fields where the darkness swallowed her. She knew every bump in the dirt path that led from the house to the stable.

She splayed both palms on the worn smooth curve of the top rail and let the calm of the night surround her. Dark clouds blocked out the stars. She didn’t know how long she waited before she heard Zach’s gait on the path behind her and felt his presence, substantial like the night.

“Karen? I’ll head back to town and rescue your car. I can have an estimate ready for you sometime tomorrow.”

“There’s no hurry. It’s not like I can afford that engine.”