Page 3 of Grateful for You
Just as I had expected—and feared—for her. A tow truck could come… in three hours. But no mechanic would be open until Friday. And even then, they were charging time and a half to work on a holiday weekend.
I entered Elsa’s diner where this unlucky woman was already seated in a booth, her dog laying at her feet.
I slid into the booth opposite her. My gaze slid over the shiner on her face and my blood was replaced with a river of fire; raw, unbridled fury whooshing through my veins.Who the hell did that to her?The cut looked deep—red and angry. And the bruise was a dark purplish color. It wasn’t fresh enough to have come from this recent accident. It was older… probably 24 hours old, if I had to guess, since it wasn’t yellowing yet.
Despite the bruise on her high cheekbone, she was stunning… and I found myself staring at her a moment too long.
I cleared my throat and forced my eyes down to look at the menu. This was a woman in trouble. A woman who needed help…my help. The last thing I needed to be doing in this moment was cataloging her appearance.
Anger percolated in my gut, at first for myself. Then at whoever this man was in her life who had laid a hand on her. Maybe I was jumping to conclusions… but I had a strong gut feeling that that bruise was no accident. Someone hit her.Hard. And despite the fact that it was the day before Thanksgiving, I had an instinct that she wasn’t on the road this late, the evening before a holiday, simply for a planned visit to her sister.
She was running.
I could see it in the antsy wiggle of her hips in the seat. The way she checked over her shoulder every time the bell rang above Elsa’s front door. And the distrusting shift in her eyes.
She was afraid, but too strong—or stubborn—to admit it or ask for help. Hell, if that wasn’t something I could relate to.
“So… Pumpkin…” I was pretty sure that wasn’t her name… I didn’t even believe it was a real nickname. “It looks like a mechanic won’t be able to take a look at your car until Friday. The tow truck costs three hundred dollars. And—”
She dropped her face into her hands and grunted. “Three hundred dollars to tow that piece of shit? Then what? Probably another two thousand to get it running? I’m better off just buying a used car from someone here!”
I winced… she wasn’t wrong. Twenty-three hundred dollars wouldn’t exactly get her a Rolls Royce, but she could get a decent pre-owned car. Something small and more reliable than the beater she left on the side of the road.
She pinched her nose between two fingers and took a deep breath. “Sorry. I’m sorry. You’ve been really nice, and I didn’t mean to snap.”
“It’s okay,” I reassured her and ignored the way my dormant heart stirred as her pretty brown eyes filled with moisture. She wasbeautiful. Maybe the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen with high cheekbones, a wide-set mouth, large brown eyes so bright, not even her trauma could dull the shine, and blond curly hair coiled on top of her head. I wanted to wrap my hands around her curvy hips and pull her body into mine to nestle against her.
You always go for the project, my brother had said.The fixer-uppers who use you to get back on their feet, then leave you.I guess he wasn’t wrong. My last two girlfriends had come from broken families. They stayed with me, living rent-free. Hell, with Jayme, I had even paid for her to go back to college. Then, the second that diploma was in her hand, she was gone… leaving me with nothing more than a three-sentence goodbye note.
Elsa came over, pouring more coffee, and gave us each a tender smile. That was Elsa for you. She was kind and generous and always willing to offer a helpful hand…or at the very least, an extra piece of pie.
“It’ll be fine,” Pumpkin said, more to herself than to me. “We’ll just get a room here at the inn and—”
“Oh, you can’t stay here,” Elsa chimed in, hitching her thumb over her shoulder to where the Inn connected to her café. “I mean, you can ask, but I know they don’t allow dogs over twenty pounds.”
Pumpkin’s eyes fluttered closed. “Of course they don’t,” she muttered, then quickly looked up at Elsa apologetically. “Is it okay that she’s in here? It’s just too cold to leave her out in the car—”
“Oh, it’s okay. I saw your emotional support animal license for her.” Elsa gave Pumpkin a quick wink and smile as she finished pouring our coffees.
I blinked, momentarily confused. “I didn’t see any paperwork—”
Elsa rolled her eyes and nudged me with her elbow. “Well,I did, Sheriff. And that’s only if anyone asks. Understood?”
Ohhhh. I felt like an idiot as I finally caught on and nodded.
An exhale puffed through Pumpkin’s parted lips and whispered, “Thank you.”
Elsa leaned over to pour more coffee into my mug. With a wiggle of her brows, she said. “She’s awfully cute, isn’t she?”
I did my best to swallow my sigh and not roll my eyes. For years, this town has been trying to set me up. Apparently, an unmarried Sheriff is the biggest crime here in Maple Grove. A day didn’t go by that Elsa or Marty Tripp or Linda Evans didn’t try to introduce me to some eligible woman in town… usually their daughters.
“Maybe cute isn’t the right word,” Elsa continued with a twinkle in her eye. “Beautiful.” Then, looking at Pumpkin, she bent to pet the dog. “A husky, right?”
I smirked at the older lady, shaking my head.You’re not fooling anyone, Elsa.
“That’s right,” Pumpkin said.
“Yes,” I finally answered. “She’s… beautiful.” But it wasn’t the dog I was looking at when I answered her. I was staring straight into the glossy eyes of the woman across from me. The woman whose real name I still didn’t know.
