Page 20 of Charlie Takes a Chance

I have an order of medicine to pick up in town anyway. It’s not like I’m going out of my way if she rides with me. It’s not as if I’m being extra nice. I’m just going to make sure she’s alive at the end of her stay. Nothing more.

“Get in the truck.”

“Pardon you?” she says as she turns to face me, planting her fists on her hips. “What did you say?”

“You heard me.” I’m not going to beg. Good grief. Who does she think I am?

“I’m not getting in your truck—again, that is.” She blushes, and I recall how quietly she told me she was scared of the dark. I had my suspicions when I realized how long she must have stayed in the barn. And I might not be a nice guy, but I’m not going to give someone a hard time for that.

“If I get in your truck, you’d drive me all the way down to the Panama Canal and leave me there for Christmas.” She glances down at the snow. “Although, that does sound warmer…so let me think about it just for a minute.”

This woman.

She pretends to think about it, tapping a finger on her chin.

“Nope, sorry. I can’t accept your one-way ticket out of town.”

I kick the snow back and forth, digging a little trench down to the gravel. “I’ll bring you back. Your car wouldn’t make it into town.”

“You think that because it’s older, it can’t carry me from place to place?”

“I’m saying you need four-wheel drive for these hills and the snow. I’m going into town anyway.”

Her mouth forms anOas she stares at me.

“Are—wait, are you being nice?” She presses a hand against her chest in a shocked pose.

“No!” I bark out. “Absolutely not.”

Charlie looks relieved. “Okay, well, as long as it’s not something weird like that, then I guess I’ll take you up on it. I’m assuming we’re taking the pickup you were driving last night?”

I nod and turn to go around the backside of the lodge again.

“Are your pants tucked into your cowboy boots?” Charlie asks as she trails behind.

“Yup. Got a problem with that?”

“I have so very many problems, and that isn’t one of them. It’s simply an observation on your strange style choices,” she calls after me.

“It keeps my pants dry, okay? I don’t like the snow making my jeans cold.”

Charlie lets out a loud laugh. “I didn’t know you were a winter princess.”

“Very funny. I only need a few things in town—lunch being one of them. What are you picking up?” I ask as I keep marching toward the truck.

“Some two-by-fours.”

I stop abruptly. “Did you say you’re picking up lumber?”

Charlie hurries to catch up with me, her work boots crunching on the snow. I stare at them. They’re clean, though that could be from tromping through the snow, but they’re scuffed. Like they’re actual work boots and not a fashion piece. In fact, I think I have that exact brand. I wear them in the summer months.

Maybe they’re scuffed because she likes to hike. Or maybe they’re scuffed because she actually works in them. Whatever the reason, I need to stop thinking about Charlie’s footwear. It’s starting to be a problem.

“You mean to tell me you were going to haul lumber back with that car of yours?”

“Of course,” she answers with a shrug as she walks past me. “I’ve done it before.”

I’m left standing in the snow, watching her march in the direction of the pickup, leaving me behind to gawk. And I can’t help but chuckle. Of course she hauled lumber on her car. I shake my head and march after her.

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