I lower the tailgate and motion for Jamie to sit. She doesn’t. And since I’m out of eye-rolls and—according to Maggie—not able to speak my thoughts, I grasp Jamie’s waist—ignoring her protest—and effortlessly pick her up and sit her ass down. “Be good,” I say, smirking, then force my hands deep in my pockets to avoid the temptation of touching her again. Man, those curves are something else.
I leave them there and join my dad and Henry, the local mechanic. “Son,” Dad greets with a nod.
I return his gesture, say, “Pops.” Then I ask Henry, “How bad is it?”
“Bad.” Henry spends the next few minutes showing me the damage to the vehicle: busted windshield, body damage, but—according to him—it’s the driver-side tire and axle that took the worst hit. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to fix it or if it needs replacing.” Henry mainly deals with farming equipment, the occasional older vehicle, but I don’t know that he’s ever worked on an RV before.
“How did she even get out?” Dad asks, scratching at his temple.
Henry points to the semi-open driver’s window facing the ditch. “I think she crawled out.”
“That tiny space?” Dad says.
“She is pretty tiny,” I murmur. In fact, I’d forgotten just how tiny she was until she was standing right in front of me.
“Is it salvageable?” Jamie asks, and my eyes shift to her. The dried blood is gone from her forehead, replaced with bruising I hadn’t noticed, along with a few butterfly bandages.
Henry throws her a pitiful smile. “I can get it out of the ditch for you, but I’m not sure when I’ll be able to have a look at it. I don’t have a suitable car lift in my garage. So I’ll have to make a few calls and see who has. Even if I did, my lot’s full at the moment, so…”
“So… like, a few days?”
“Hopefully,” Henry answers.
Jamie nods. “So, okay.” She seems to be running through all future scenarios in her mind. “I’ll just need to find somewhere to stay for a few days. Any suggestions?”
Henry nods. “There’s a bed-and-breakfast over in Justice.”
Maggie returns from putting the first aid kit back in their truck. “That place closed a few months ago. Bed bugs and termites.”
“Gross,” I whisper.
“There’s always the local hostel,” Henry suggests.
“No!” Dad’s quick to insist, and everyone looks at him, wide-eyed. Even Jamie. “Sorry, I’m not letting you stay there. Only summer hands and drifters stay there, and please don’t take this wrong—I’m not saying that they’ll do anything—but an attractive young girl like yourself… I, personally, wouldn’t be comfortable.”
I can’t even remember the last time Dad strung a sentence together that used that many words.
“I’m a bit of a drifter myself,” Jamie says. “I’ll be fine.”
“He’s right, Jamie,” Maggie chimes in. “You can stay with us for a couple of days. Just until they know what’s going on.”
My mouth parts, ready to speak, but Maggie beats me to it. “You can stay in Holden’s old room.”
“No!” I almost shout. Hell to the fuck no.
Jamie seems to eye everyone, all at once. “I’ll just stay at the hostel. It’s not that big a deal.”
“It is,” Dad insists. “Why don’t we get the RV back to our place, and you can stay in there if that’s what would make you comfortable.”
Five minutes later, the RV is upright, and I’m helping Henry and my dad prepare to get it on the tow truck.
A half-hour after that, with the RV in its position, Dad says, “Why don’t you kids go get some breakfast? We’ll take care of it.” It’s not so much a question, more of a suggestion, and he doesn’t even wait for a response before he and Mags get in their truck and take off, the tow truck leaving right after them.
Jamie and I stand side by side, watching them all leave.
“I’m sure you have stuff to do. I’ll walk back,” Jamie says.
I turn to her, but she’s already moving toward the wreckage site. I wait a moment, watching her walk a straight line in the ditch, head down, searching. After a slight hesitation, I join her.
“You can go, Holden.”
I ignore her. “What are we looking for?”
“Just… something that’s important to me.”
Obviously. “I can’t help you look if you won’t tell me.”
“Just go. I’ll catch up with you later.”
I don’t know why she won’t just tell me or why she seems pissed at my mere presence. If she wants to play these head games, she can play them with herself. “Fine.” I leave her in the ditch and move to the bed of my truck, where I sit on the edge, letting the May sun coat my flesh with its warmth. After a few minutes, I lie down, cover my eyes with my forearm and think. This isn’t an ideal situation for anyone, especially me. Maybe even her. But she’s going to be here—my home—for a few days.
I can deal with a few days.
I have no fucking choice.
Besides, how bad could it be?
Eons later, the car door opens, and the metal shifts beneath me. I sit up and stretch my back before making my way behind the wheel. “Did you find it?” I yawn out.
She sniffs once—the single sound forcing me to face her. “No,” she whispers, staring ahead, her eyes filled with unshed tears.
My heart twists at the sight of her like this, and there’s that old nagging feeling making an unwanted comeback.
I wish I could fix her.
I wish I could save her.
“Maybe it’s still in your RV?” I offer. “I’m sure you’ll find it.”
Whatever it is.
14
Holden
When you enter the driveway of the nursery, there’s a small parking lot on the left, and next to the parking lot is the main house.
On the right of the driveway is a big ol’ barn that used to be the gift shop/pottery studio/basic café. We haven’t used it for those things in all the years I’ve been alive. Attached to the old barn is the main greenhouse—the one I plan on fixing to make it more appealing to customers.
According to my grandparents, back when the business was thriving, families came from all over to get drinks and baked goods and set up a picnic in our gardens. Make a day of it. My grandpa blames the internet for the business’s demise, claiming that so much entertainment became available at people’s fingertips that leaving the house seemed more like a chore than an outing.
Farther up on the right, about twenty feet, is a single dwelling with large glass sliding doors that we use as our office. Dad—he wasn’t much into the actual business side of the business, so I could probably count on one hand how many times he’s stepped into the office. I’m not saying he’s at fault for how things are right now, because he did a good job keeping it afloat for as long as he did. It just… needs an overhaul. And I’m here to do that.
To fix it.
Save it.