Page 18 of The Unbuttoned Ranger
“Sharp Creed, ma’am.” He touched the brim of his hat. When she didn’t respond right away, he asked,“Yours?”
He could see the discomfort.
“CaDee. And that’s my son, Carsen. Please tell me that cell service works better at Loveland Farm.”
He scanned the distance then settled his gaze back on her.“Last I knew Piper had a landline, but I can’t promise anything about the cell service.” Sweat coated his forehead as the sun became hotter.
“Could you drive where you have cell service and call the mechanic?”
Back to square one.
“With all due respect, you and your son could be out here in this heat for a while. Skeeter doesn’t work real fast.”
He was starting to realize she didn’t trust him, maybe no one.
He didn’t want her to be uncomfortable. You ever driven a truck before?”
One brow lifted.“No.”
“Well, I think you can manage for three miles. You take the driver’s seat, and I’ll take the back. Deal?”
“Are you sure?”
“Sure that I’m going to melt like a stick of butter out in the sun if we don’t get moving, One-hundred percent sure.”
“You’d really let me drive your truck?”
He chuckled.“Look at it, ma’am. There’s not much you could do to Old Faithful that hasn’t already been done.”
“I’ll go grab our things and lock up the car,” she said.
“Best to not lock it up in case Skeeter will need to get inside. Leave the key too.”
There was that look again. The one that said she hadn’t trusted someone in a long time.“I-I don’t know…”
“You want your car fixed, right?”
“Yes, but…”
“This road is about six miles long. There are five houses, and I know every single one of the neighbors and they’d good people. Tuck the key under the mat if it makes you feel better.” He winked, headed for the truck and hauled himself into the back. He almost fried by the time she had gathered up her kid and a small plastic bag. That wasn’t much for someone traveling with a kid, or someone planning to stay a while.
He watched her settle into the driver’s seat, the dog in the middle and the kid in the passenger seat. She adjusted it and the mirror, peered out the dash, then they were off.
The breeze helped, although she drove about as slow as a new driver.
Finally, the swinging sign announcing the arrival to Loveland Farm came into view. He knocked on the back window, pointing at the driveway.
The ten-acre property had once been prosperous but was now reduced to a handful of livestock, chickens, and three dilapidated barns. Sharp hadn’t realized how much it had declined.
She shut the engine off, and he jumped out and walked around to open the driver’s door for her.
“Thank you,” she said modestly.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said politely.
The kid slid across the seat, both hands overflowing with tiny plastic dinosaurs, the kind that Sharp used to play with too when he was a kid.
One fell onto the ground and Sharp swiped it up.“I had one just like this once upon a time.”
