18

Franklin latched his seatbelt and turned toward Hayley. “Ready?”

Hayley gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles whitened. The minivan felt huge, maybe too big for her to handle. “I think so. But I’m still scared.”

“The road’s usually empty, and if it’s too much for you, we can just drive around the yard. Go ahead, start ‘er up.” Franklin’s calm encouragement helped settle her nerves.

Hayley turned the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life, and Hayley jerked her foot off the gas. “Sorry.”

“No problem.” Franklin chuckled as he patted the dash. “This old car’s handled all kinds of drivers. Now back up a bit, and you can either go past the Quonset and around the machine shed or out to the road.”

Hayley stepped on the brake and grabbed the gear shift with a trembling hand. “Maybe I’ll stay on the yard for now.”

“Whatever you want. We prayed about this, remember? You’re not alone. And I’m not just talking about me.”

“You’re right. It’s been so long, though…”

“That’s why we’re doing this. Don’t let fear imprison you, young lady. You got bucked off real good, but it’s time to remount this horse.”

That brought a smile. Hayley put the car into reverse, checked all her mirrors, and crept backward to the broad, gravel driveway.

The first time around the farm buildings seemed to take forever, as she flinched with every turn, but on the second and third circuits, Hayley’s shoulders relaxed and her grip eased. When they arrived back beside the garage, she turned to speak to Franklin. His gray head rested against the headrest and his eyes were closed. Until she put the van into park.

Franklin’s eyes opened, and he winked at her. Hayley’s cheeks warmed. “I thought you were asleep.”

He sat up straighter and shook his head. “Nope. Just resting and enjoying the ride. Noticed you got some confidence as you went around. Smoother, less hesitation.”

“This car is easy to drive. And your calm attitude…well, it helped me relax and concentrate on driving.”

“Good.” His eyes twinkled. “Want to try the road?”

The driveway was safe, but it didn’t get her anywhere. In the city, buses and taxis were available. But out in the country, it was drive or stay home. She gripped the steering wheel again. “I do.”

“Good, young lady. God’s got you, and you’ve got this. Let’s go.” Franklin grinned.

Where the driveway met the road, Hayley stopped the car and leaned forward. The nice thing about flat country was that one could see a long way. No vehicles appeared, so she eased out onto the gravel road and increased her speed. Ever so slightly.

After a couple minutes, Franklin began to wring his hands.

Hayley eased off the gas. “Am I going too fast?” She checked the speedometer. “Um, too slow?”

“You’re doing fine. No traffic to hold up, anyway. How’s it feel?”

“I could probably speed up a bit, but the potholes are tricky.”

“Don’t go any faster than you’re comfortable with. Why’d you think I was upset?”

Hayley dodged another depression in the roadway. “Your hands.”

“Oh, that’s just my way of tryin’ to rub the ache outta them.”

“Oh.” Trevor had massaged her hand on the plane; it was soothing. Thunk. A shallow pothole caught a tire, and Hayley jerked her attention back to the road. “Sorry.”

Franklin pointed. “See that cloud of dust? Looks like we’re gonna meet another vehicle soon.”

Tension gripped Hayley as she clutched the steering wheel. “What should I do?” Her voice sounded shrill, but she couldn’t help it.

“Take it easy.” Franklin’s calm voice soothed her frazzled nerves. “You’re already going nice and slow, so let’s wait and see what it is. If it’s a car or truck, just stay on your side of the road, and you’ll be fine. If it’s a big piece of machinery, you’ll want to pull onto an approach.”

“O-OK.” Hayley maneuvered close to the edge of the road, which was tricky because it sloped toward the ditch. Her knuckles whitened.

A massive form appeared under the cloud.

Hayley glanced from side to side, looking for a place to pull off.

Franklin touched her arm. “Look, it’s just a farm truck. No problem.”

The just-a-farm-truck seemed to take up most of the roadway. Hayley tensed and held her breath as the vehicle rumbled past them.

“There you go. Piece of cake.” Franklin’s smile disappeared. “Hey, young lady, you’re awfully pale. Had enough for today?”

“Um-hm. I think so. Maybe I’ll turn around at the next driveway.” A few minutes later, Hayley inched into the garage, set the gear into Park, and turned off the engine. She closed her eyes and sighed.

“Well done, Miss Hayley.” Franklin undid his seatbelt and opened his door. “A few more times on our little road, and you’ll be ready to hit the highway. Then there’ll be no stopping you.” He stepped out of the van and stroked Roscoe’s head before sauntering to the house.

But visions of vehicles zipping past as though on a race track stalled Hayley as she reached for her seatbelt. This country road was scary enough. How could she ever venture onto a highway? And if she couldn’t, would the Hieberts look for someone to replace her?

~*~

Trevor sat in his truck in Easy Rider’s parking lot. Mom and Hayley would have supper on the table in less than an hour, but this phone call couldn’t wait. And he couldn’t call from the shop. He rechecked the latest email from Nate Smith and entered the phone number. Smith’s emails answered some questions, but Trevor needed to hear the man’s voice.

“Hello, Nate Smith here.”

The well-modulated voice carried a faint accent, but Trevor couldn’t place it. Sounded pleasant enough. “Hello, Nate. This is Trevor. Just got a few more questions for you.”

“Shoot.”

“How long have you worked for Lowrider, and what do you do there?”

“Fourteen months as a delivery driver. It’s a decent job.”

Must pay well, to afford the house pictured in his emails. Or he’d held a better job before. A now-familiar unease tickled Trevor’s spine. “Look, Nate, I’m not used to moving in with someone I don’t know, so I’ll be blunt. Why are you doing this—offering part of your home to a complete stranger?”

A low chuckle came over the line. “That’s where you’re wrong, Hiebert. I looked you up, and I talked to your boss. Pretty easy to find a story about your bikes, and Carlos sang your praises. I’m not worried.”

That made one of them. His phone beeped a reminder to get on the road. Didn’t want to be late for supper—and time with his mother’s stunning helper. “Listen, Nate, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you again tomorrow with more questions, if you don’t mind.”

“No problem. Around the same time will be good. Should be home from work.”

That raised another question. Were personal calls forbidden at Lowrider? Or was something else going on?

Trevor said goodbye, disconnected, and shoved his phone into his jacket. If only his apprehension could be thrust away as easily. He grunted, started his Jeep, and pulled out onto the road. He’d see Hayley soon. She could erase his anxiety with just a smile. He merged onto Highway 16, and his pulse escalated as he pressed the gas pedal.

~*~

“Great supper, Mom. I’m sure going to miss your cooking.” Trevor speared a chunk of potato and used it to wipe up the last bit of gravy. “Mm-mm. You spoil me.” He pushed his chair back, got up, and kissed his mother’s cheek. “And I love you for it.”

Laureen patted his hand. “Gotta feed you while I have the chance.” Her hand trembled, and she tucked it under the table. “Can I ask a favor?”

“Anything, Mom.”

“Would you join us for the Good Friday service at Dave Harris’s church? They’re doing something different—a play.”

Trevor shook his head, unable to meet her eyes. “Sorry, I can’t. Starting the new job Monday means I have to leave Friday morning at the latest.” He dared a glance and bit his lip at the dampness on his mother’s lashes.

“Oh. I didn’t realize.” Her smile trembled, and then evened out. “I understand.”

Franklin patted her hand and cleared his throat with a little cough. “Hayley made rhubarb crisp for dessert. Do you want it now, or later?”

“Later sounds good.” Trevor rubbed his full belly. “If I’d known, I wouldn’t have taken thirds.”

Hayley had begun clearing the table, but Franklin’s touch on her arm stopped her. “I’ll clear the table. Why don’t you and Trev check on the cows tonight? If you don’t mind…”

Trevor’s attention swiveled from Hayley to his dad. Was his face redder than usual? “You all right, Dad?”

Franklin rubbed his chin. “I’m fine. But why should an old guy like me have to trudge outside in the dark, when there’s young folk here who could do it?”

Trevor peered at his father for another heartbeat and was rewarded with a slow wink. Oh, so that was his game. The sly, old matchmaker. Well, it suited him fine. He’d hoped for a few minutes alone with a certain redhead. He glanced at Hayley. Pink glowed on her cheeks, but she didn’t look away. A good sign. “You up for a walk to the barnyard? Shouldn’t be much to do, and I’ll do the chores if you’ll keep me company.”

“No.” Hayley’s face relaxed into a smile. “Not good enough.”

Was she ticked off at him? But she was smiling...

“You have to let me help.” Her grin widened.

His breath whooshed out in a chuckle. “Good one, Red.”

Her eyebrows shot up. Oops. Maybe she didn’t like nicknames.

“Red, eh?” Hayley scowled, hands on her hips, but her eyes sparkled. “Now I have to come up with a good one for you. Let. Me. See.” She steepled her fingers as though deep in thought. After a moment, she opened her hands, palms up, and sighed. “Can’t think of one. Not yet.”

He’d hoped she’d come up with a name revealing her impression of him. Not that “Red” covered his feelings for her. A few minutes later, dressed in work jackets and lined rubber boots, Trevor opened the back door with a flourish. “After you, milady.”

She giggled and attempted an awkward curtsy in Laureen’s bulky coat and boots. “Thank you, kind sir.”

Roscoe dashed between them and trotted toward the barn as if he owned the place. At least he knew where he belonged. A slight grimace twisted Trevor’s lips. Pathetic. He was jealous of a mutt. Halfway to the gate, the dog stopped and looked back at them, as though wondering why they were so slow. But Trevor didn’t want to hurry. Not tonight.

A gust of wind hit them from the direction of the barn, and Hayley’s nose scrunched up. “Whew. How long does it take to get used to that smell?”

“Depends on how sensitive you are.” He made a show of inhaling. “I don’t smell anything. Just good, fresh farm air.” He grinned at her unladylike snort.

“Maybe you should bottle some of this and take it to Toronto with you, so you’ll feel at home.”

Trevor’s throat tightened. Yeah, he’d miss this place. And the people here. He swallowed hard and reached for Hayley’s hand. “Come on, let’s go see that baby of yours.”

Hayley gasped and stumbled.