Luther shook his head. “I don’t think it’s worth the fix. It’s gonna cost you more to get the car running than its value.” Chanel had made it to his shop at a few minutes after eight, having hitched a ride with the tow truck driver and thankfully, Luther didn’t have a customer so he had taken a look at the car right away. He rolled his chew stick to the edge of his mouth and stuck out his gut, making his paunch more pronounced under the overalls.
Though the outside temperature was close to fifty degrees, Luther wore short sleeves. Her lips quivered, but he didn’t seem to notice the sharp gust of wind.
She shielded her eyes from the sun’s glare and met his gaze. He was about an inch shorter than she was. “So what do you recommend I do?”
“Buy yourself a new one, or get you a good used car. I have a couple Hondas similar to this one out back with less mileage, and their CARFAX reports say one owner and no accidents. If you want, I can give you the trade value for this car because I could use the parts.”
Chanel hadn’t thought about getting a newer used car. It didn’t hurt to check out Luther’s inventory. The car dealership wouldn’t open for another hour anyway.
Scrunching her nose, she said, “Let me take a look at what you have.” She hoped to find one the same color and style. Her heart thumped in her chest. Cara wasn’t going to be happy about this, but Chanel didn’t have a choice.
Stifling a yawn, she followed Luther to the rear of the building. There were about ten cars of various models in different states of repair. Some had sale prices posted in the window, and some looked like they had been stripped down for parts. Judging by the tossed oil cans and empty packages, cleaning wasn’t a priority, and Chanel had doubts about the condition of the cars.
But both Hondas were covered with tarp, so that was a good sign. Chanel was picky when it came to cars.
The first one was a weird neon green. It wasn’t a glossy green either; it looked matte. She made a face and shook her head. He took off the tarp over the other, and she gasped. She walked around the vehicle. It was blue-gray and in mint condition. No marks, no blemishes and it had leather seats. She clapped her hands. “I’ll take it.”
“Told ya you’d like it. It’s the sports version, and it’s manual.” He grinned, showing a chipped front tooth.
Her smile dimmed. Really? He should’ve started with that. Chanel knew how to drive a stick shift because Warren had taught her, but Cara hadn’t learned. Unless she had in recent years. Chanel couldn’t text or call to find out.
Shoving her hands into the pockets of her watertight jacket, she asked, “What else do you have in good condition?”
Luther scratched his head. His strawberry curls were sticking up in all different directions. “The only thing I have is a pickup truck. It’s automatic, but I doubt you’ll be interested. You can check back in a week or two, and I can see what else comes my way.”
Her brows rose to her hairline. “I want to see the pickup,” she said, excited.
With a shrug, Luther removed the tarp, and when she saw the truck, her stomach clenched. It was a burgundy Ford F-150 Super Cab. “How much is it?”
He quoted her a price well within her budget, calling it a pre-Christmas sale. She didn’t hesitate. “I’ll take it.”
“You don’t want to test drive?”
“I’ll drive it out the lot now,” Chanel said. For her, this pickup truck was a sign. It would be perfect for farming, which Cara had been urging her to do. She had decided to start tilling the earth by her sister’s vegetable garden to widen the space. Start small and then spread out. Chanel planned to consult with the farmers at Fifer Orchards when she went to the pumpkin patch and purchase some seeds. Volunteering at the library for an hour or two wasn’t enough to fill her days, and restoring the garden would be a great Christmas present for Cara.
Chanel needed to be exhausted at the end of the day, and expanding the garden would do it. Voicing her deepest guilt to Ryder had left her shaken, and she didn’t want time to think or dream about Warren and her loss.
She would start her farming project; then, when she left, Cara could hire another hand or sell the house as a working farm. Either way, it would be a win.
“Cara?” Luther called out, shaking her back to the present. “Let’s go get the paperwork for both vehicles taken care of.”
Oh, no. She was supposed to be her sister. How was she going to sign off on the papers? She looked at her watch. It was now after nine o’clock, which meant the bank across the street was open. “Um, if it’s all right, I’ll pay cash and you can sign the car over to me. Since I have to get to an appointment, I’ll take care of getting it registered myself. And are far as the Honda, if you tow it to the junkyard, I’ll fill out the paperwork and fax it over to them.”
He narrowed his eyes like he was sizing her up. Chanel kept her gaze firm, hoping the promise of cash would quash the questions. After a beat, Luther spat out his chew stick and said, “Suit yourself.”
After jogging across the street, Chanel withdrew the cash from her account without any difficulty and then paid Luther. With that done, she drove over to the next town and took care of all the necessary paperwork at the DMV, registering it in her own name. She could transfer ownership to her sister later. The pickup was a smooth ride, and Chanel knew Cara would love the truck. A couple hours later, Chanel backed into her driveway, the truck bed filled with supplies she would need to begin working on a patch of the lawn. She felt exhausted but satisfied.
Ryder must have been looking out for her, because he ambled over as soon as she cut off the engine. She didn’t want to think about how much she felt uplifted because of his welcoming smile.
Cara had officially been added to his prayer list. Though she had watched the YouTube videos, when Cara had said she didn’t deserve to be a mother, Ryder realized she was hearing the words but not able to truly listen.
Her past pain was too heavy.
The Scripture “Cast your cares on Him” had been on the tip of his tongue to recite, but Ryder held back. Cara knew she could do that, and he didn’t want to appear as if he were chastising instead of encouraging. Instead, he had prayed for God to help him be the friend and support she needed. He was so glad they had moved past their squabbles and were getting to know each other.
Ryder had sat on his porch, reading and studying his Bible while waiting for Cara’s return from the mechanic. Once he saw her pull into the driveway, he hurried over.
“Nice truck.” Eyeing the soil, garden tools and wiring in the back, he asked, “Need help with that?”
“Would you?” she said, opening the cab door.
A hyena couldn’t have smiled wider than he did as he hoisted the bag of soil onto his shoulder. Ryder had expected Cara to brush him off—she was so independent. But she had willingly accepted his help, which meant she trusted him. Or it could be something simple—like she wasn’t foolish enough to turn down the offer. The bag weighed at least sixty pounds; she could injure herself lifting it. And there were two bags.
She went ahead of him, carrying the grass rake, shovel and fencing.
“What are you planning to do?” he huffed out.
“I’m going to expand the garden,” she said. “I’m starting small, but I want to work my way through the entire yard. Grow things.”
“You’re becoming a Jill-of-all-trades,” he teased, plopping the soil on the spot she pointed out.
She chuckled. “I guess you could say so. I’m trying to fill my days.” Cara wiped a hand across her forehead, leaving a trail of dirt.
“Don’t run yourself ragged. If you need my help, just ask. I’m more than willing to pitch in, especially since Wolf has made a mess of your yard more times than I care to mention.” He kept his tone light. “You have dirt on your face.”
He reached over to wipe her forehead with his thumb. Like he would do for Gabby. He stilled. Only this wasn’t Gabby. This was a fully grown woman standing before him. He moved his finger, grazing her cheek. “It’s all gone now,” he whispered.
“Thank you,” she breathed out, averting her eyes. “I’d better go wash my face and hands.”
She skittered into the house while Ryder crooked a finger in the pocket of his jeans and surveyed the yard. This was a lot of land she planned to till. Even though she had a good strategy, it was a lot for one person to do alone. Even for two or three, it would be backbreaking work without the proper machinery and equipment.
“Do you plan on getting any equipment?” he asked once she returned.
“They are in the shed,” she said. “I just have to get some gas and see if they still work. But I don’t need them now with what I plan to do.”
“I’ll help you,” Ryder found himself offering again.
“You don’t have to.”
“I know. But I want to.”
She opened her mouth like she was going to turn him down but then shook her head. “I hope you know what you’re getting into.”
He didn’t, but he marched to the front to get the other bag of soil. It was close to Gabby’s arrival time, and their reservation for the pumpkin patch was in an hour, so Ryder planned to fix them a quick lunch and then be on their way.
“Did you eat yet?” he asked.
“I grabbed a turkey sandwich, so I’m good.”
He heard the squeal of the bus before he saw it. Ryder dropped the soil in the backyard and then sprinted down the driveway to meet Gabby. He didn’t expect Cara would be running beside him.
They stood together when the bus stopped. The doors opened, and Gabby scuttled down the steps. Instead of jumping into his arms, she made a beeline for Cara and hugged her around the waist. He watched Cara give his daughter an awkward pat, and his heart constricted.
Cara and Gabby became immersed in conversation, trailing Ryder into his house. He prepared stove-top macaroni and cheese while listening as they rambled on about their day behind him. They sat together at the kitchen table, and Gabby showed Cara her homework assignment. It sounded like she had to do subtraction with pumpkins and color in the answer. Cara gave her gentle guidance, and he was pleased at her patience. The more he listened, the more he knew Cara needed to be a mom.
Ryder would have to think of a tactful way to broach that option again. There were a lot of singles who had adopted, and Cara was capable and efficient.
“Can I get a ride in your truck?” Gabby asked.
“Sure, if your dad agrees.”
“Can we go, Daddy?” she asked, her little voice wrapping its way around his heart.
“I don’t mind, but it can’t be today because we already have plans.”
Gabby responded with her usual drawn-out, “Okaaaaaay...”
He was glad his back was turned, because the way she said the word, along with her down-turned lips, always got to him. He had a hard time not caving.
But Cara must have been in Gabby’s direct line of vision, because she said, “Ryder, maybe we can take my pickup, if you don’t mind driving? I can sit with Gabby in the cab if that’s all right. There are two seat belts back there.”
Hiding his grin, he said, “That’s fine by me.”
“Yay!” Gabby shouted.
“You are a punk,” he whispered in Cara’s ear.
She rolled her eyes and gave him a playful shove but didn’t deny that Ryder was right. Instead, she asked him about Gabby’s doctor’s appointment.
“Oh, yeah. Dr. Wallen’s office called me early this morning and rescheduled for tomorrow. They said a new mother gave birth, and he had to go provide a consult on the baby, who had trouble breathing.”
“Oh, wow. I hope the baby’s okay. I’ll say a prayer.”
“I did the same thing as soon as I heard,” Ryder said. The more he was getting to know this woman, the more he found her remarkable. Her initial response echoed his own. His brows furrowed. They shared common interests in music, dogs, history. But for the first time, he wondered at the many similarities between them. Maybe they weren’t just coincidental. Maybe they were a sign of something...more.