The Mechanics of Mistletoe - Liz Isaacson Page 0,11
I self-sabotaged the date. I could’ve asked better questions. It’s not like I’ve never met Bear before. I could’ve given longer answers.” She stared up at the ceiling, one question moving through her body and soul. Why?
Why? Why? Why?
She had that question for so many things, and no one—not even the Lord—had ever been able to answer it for her.
She didn’t see Bear on Monday, as he was nowhere to be found in the warehouse when she showed up at Shiloh Ridge Ranch to fix the tractor. Instead, his cousin, Ranger, and one of his brothers, Bishop, met her. They explained what they’d done to try to get the tractor to run, and Sammy nodded, asked questions, and ultimately got beneath the machine to see what her insides looked like.
“You bought a pump for a lawn mower,” she said, her voice echoing around her. That was the first problem, at least. She poked at this and prodded that. “And the fuel seal is broken,” she said. That would make the tractor run rough and run out of fuel faster.
She heard Ranger and Bishop arguing, but she couldn’t make out any words. With her examination done, she pulled herself out from under the vehicle. “I have to run to town. I’ll be back and get this done for you.”
“Lawn mower,” Ranger said with a scoff. “How embarrassing.” He smiled at Sammy, and while he had a handsome, symmetrical face, with nearly the same color hair as Bear, he did nothing to her pulse.
She stewed on the way to the farm supply store. Maybe she should just call Bear. Ask him if they could get together for lunch one day this week. Lunch felt easier than dinner. No babysitter. No pressure to dress up. He’d pick her up from her shop, and she’d just go in whatever she was wearing. He’d be in jeans and cowboy boots, no leather jacket that accented those beautiful shoulders. They’d laugh and talk the whole afternoon away, only to have Sammy rush back to the shop to be there when Lincoln got off the bus.
It was a nice fantasy, and Sammy let it play out for as long as it wanted. She fixed the tractor and left Shiloh Ridge with the promise that Bear would pay her once Ranger told him the tractor was fixed.
That evening, her phone went cha-ching! and she checked it to see that Bear had indeed paid her for the tractor.
“Too much,” she muttered, actually annoyed with the man now. He’d always paid her too much, and he refused to let her give any money back. It wasn’t worth the fight, and Sammy usually sent him a quick text to let him know she’d gotten the money and she was grateful for it.
For him? she wondered.
He stayed on her mind that night, the next day and evening, and the next. She didn’t text or call him; her phone stayed likewise silent.
By Thursday, she knew she’d blown her chance with him, and she had no idea how to fix it. She could fix anything—literally anything—but she didn’t know how to fix this gaping black hole inside herself.
That afternoon, she’d just completed an oil change when the tornado warning sirens filled the air. Panic struck her right inside her lungs, and she hurried outside to see what was happening. The sky was bright, with barely a breeze in the air.
“Turn on the radio,” she called back to her guys. “Now.” She bustled back inside, checking the time. School was already out; Lincoln was on the bus somewhere. She needed to get him and get to her parents’ house as soon as she could.
But she also needed to board up everything here, and she started barking out orders before Logan could even get the radio tuned in.
Jeff dashed through the back door of the shop and returned with lumber a moment later. The radio tuned in, and Sammy leaned closer to it with Logan, Jason, and Jeff.
“…a possibly category four tornado coming up the Panhandle,” a man said. “Evacuations have been called, and sirens are going off clear up into Oklahoma. All are advised to get somewhere safe in the next hour, board up any windows and doors, and move into shelters if possible.”
The newsman continued to speak, but Sammy straightened. “Ten minutes,” she said. “And we’re all out of here. Make any calls now that you need to.” She looked at her friends and fellow mechanics. “Ten minutes.”