Page 1 of Dreaming Dante

You Ain’t Leaving

Summer’s arrivedwith a vengeance this year. It’s early June and feels like August, the sun merciless in a pale blue sky. It’s going to be a scorcher of aday.

My little girl, Sophie, is sleeping peacefully in her car seat, but it’s only a little after eight in the morning and I’m already sweating. I’m not convinced the shades over my rear windows will be enough to protect her with my A/C barely working.

When Gilda, my trusty car, starts overheating, I take it as a sign from the universe that I should stop for the day. I slow to a crawl just as we reach a town at the base of some mountains. It’s pretty, and clean, and there are trees everywhere.

My mood picks up. I should be able to find a park somewhere, let Sophie play in the shade, and maybe even get a nap. Tonight, when it’s cool – or at least less hot – I can pushon.

Not that I have any idea where I’m going. I only know I haven’t run nearly far enough.

First things first. I need to find a gas station where I can get some water for Gilda, and maybe a quart of oil. We’re on what looks like the main drag in town, coming into the business district, but I don’t see any stations. Then, on the right, a sign comes into view: Revved Garage / Parts / Café.

The café (which is weird — since when does a garage have a café?) is close to the street, while the garage and parts store are set back behind a decent-sized parking lot. I make the turn into the lot and ease toward the parts store. They’ll have oil there, and if I’m lucky, watertoo.

When I nose into a parking slot and shut off the ignition, Gilda’s engine shudders to a halt with an ominous clanking sound, and steam rises from the hood. Damn. I can’t afford repairs. “Please, Gilda,” I whisper. “Hang in there a little longer.”

Climbing out, I open up the back door to get Sophie from her car seat. She’s still asleep, her skin flushed from the heat, and guilt stabs me. I’m definitely going to find a park with some nice big shade trees.

“Hey, darling girl,” I croon softly, unhooking her car seat. “Let’s go inside and get some water for Gilda, okay? And maybe some for us, too.”

Sophie comes awake as I check her diaper. By the time I set her on my hip, her big brown eyes are taking in everything around us. I carry her to the parts store and push through the door, a jangling bell announcing my arrival.

It’s blissfully cool inside, and I wonder if maybe they’d let me help out for the day, just so Sophie and I could enjoy the air conditioning. There’s a long counter with no one behind it, just rows of shelves covered with every imaginable car-related thingie in the world, or so it seems tome.

“Hello?” I call. There’s no reply, but I sense more than hear movement. A moment later, a man appears from between two sets of shelves. I can’t help staring, because he’s one of the biggest specimens of manhood I’ve ever encountered.

He stands well over six feet, broad-shouldered, deep-chested, clad in jeans that stretch across his massive thighs and a black t-shirt that clings to his enormous biceps. His hair is thick and dark, and his eyes are like molten sable.

Rough-hewn features make him more rugged than handsome, but his charisma more than compensates for any lack of conventional good looks. He’s not my type … but he’s the most impressive man I’ve everseen.

His gaze sharpens when he takes in me and Sophie, and I have the strange, uncomfortable feeling that, like Sherlock Holmes, he can somehow deduce everything about me at a glance. But his words are ordinary enough. ”Helpyou?”

His voice is deep and resonant, sliding over my senses like warm velvet. Something stirs in me, an awareness I can’t put words to. It disturbs me on a primeval level, and I shove it away to focus on the moment.

“Hi. My car’s heating up. I need to let her cool off a little bit, and then put some water in the radiator and check the oil. Is there someplace my daughter and I couldwait?”

To my alarm, he comes around the counter toward me. “Let’s take a look,” he says, heading toward thedoor.

“No, that’s all right. I can take care of it. I just need a waiting room, and maybe somewhere to get a glass of water?”

He halted at my words, and now he’s standing less than a foot away. Up close, I can see the silver threads in his hair and the lines around his eyes. He must be forty-something, a lot older thanme.

It doesn’t lessen his impact onebit.

“You know cars?” heasks.

My eyes narrow. “I know how to put water in a radiator and addoil.”

“I’m guessin’ that meansno.”

Infuriating man. “Never mind. I’ll go somewhereelse.”

He blocks my way. “You’re not goin’ anywhere.”

I glare at him. “Excuseme?”

“Is the car overheating or not?” He says it slowly, like I’ve been knocked on the head. Odiousman.

“I just said itwas.”

“Then you ain’t leaving.”

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