The Mechanics of Mistletoe - Liz Isaacson Page 0,25

he said. “We’re out here bright and early in the morning too, I hear.”

“Yeah,” Wade said, turning to survey the land that had been burnt. “I think I only lost a couple of acres to this.” He shook his head, his sigh made of more frustration than Bear’s had been. “What else is the Lord going to throw at us?”

“Hopefully not much else,” Bear said. “I don’t need a fire at Shiloh Ridge. I’ve had my fair share of broken-down equipment this year already.” He flashed a look in Sammy’s direction, a quick smile on his mouth.

“Yeah, you have.” Wade took the shovels from his boys and lifted them into the back of his truck. “Well, I guess I better go see how Kaye’s faring at home. The window blew in right next to the china cabinet, and the whole thing toppled.”

“You didn’t put that on the text,” Bear said.

“Kaye didn’t want me to,” Wade said. “She’s going through each piece to see what she can salvage. Everything in the cabinet was a family heirloom.”

“I’m so sorry,” Sammy said, drawing Wade’s attention. She couldn’t imagine losing pieces of her heritage she’d deemed priceless.

“I’ll tell her you said that.” Wade touched the brim of his cowboy hat and got in his truck. Sammy watched them rumble away while Bear started unhooking his hose from the hydrant. He shouldered the whole load and heaved it into the back of his truck. Dusting off his hands, he came back toward her.

“Food?” he asked. “I’m sure I can find something at the ranch we can take to your family.”

She turned toward him as if encased in quicksand. “My family,” she repeated. She blinked, all of her senses returning. Life sure was different out here on the ranch. Slower, and more peaceful. She’d worked on plenty of the ranches surrounding Three Rivers, as everyone stood in need of a mechanic from time to time.

“Right,” she said. “My family. My mom said she’d look through my fridge for food. Let me call her.”

Bear nodded, and Sammy stepped away to make the call. “Momma,” she said when her mother picked up. “How are you guys? Do you need lunch?”

“Daddy’s taking a nap,” Momma said. “Lincoln and I have been cleaning up a few things here and there.”

“Momma,” Sammy said, plenty of warning in her voice. “I said not to do that.”

“We’re fine,” she said. “I can stack firewood one piece at a time.”

“Do you need lunch?”

She said something to Lincoln, but the words were muffled. “Link says yes, bring us something. But how are you going to do that Sam?”

“Bear Glover says he has food,” Sammy said, swallowing. “He helped me at the shop, and we went to your place to do some damage assessment.” She cleared her throat. “We should be back within the hour?” She met Bear’s eyes and lifted her eyebrows. He nodded, as he’d clearly been listening. “Okay?”

“Sounds good,” Momma said. “We’ll be here.”

Sammy said goodbye and tucked her phone away. “They’d like lunch.”

“Are they cleaning up?”

“A little bit here and there, Momma says.” Sammy rolled her eyes. “She likes to pretend like she hasn’t had arthritis for a decade.”

Bear smiled and moved to open the passenger door for her. She climbed into his truck and watched him go around the front. When he joined her in the cab, he brought a trickle of energy with him that sent sparks through Sami’s whole body. She knew he was older than her, but she wasn’t sure how much older. She hadn’t known him at all in high school. In fact, his youngest brother had been a couple of years older than her.

“Bear,” she said as he aimed the truck down the mountain from the Rhinehart’s ranch. “Do you mind me…I mean…I was just wondering how old you are.”

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. His jaw worked as he clearly attempted to form his answer. Perhaps he wouldn’t answer at all. “I’ll be forty-five in July,” he said, plenty of Texas drawl in the name of the month.

“Ah, I see.”

“You think I’m too old for you,” he said, and he didn’t phrase it as a question.

“How old do you think I am?” she asked, because yes, he was probably too old for her.

“I have no idea,” he said. “In your thirties, I’d imagine.”

“Thirty-two, Bear,” she said. “Barely my thirties.”

“Okay,” he said like the twelve-year difference didn’t matter to him. “When’s your birthday?”

“The whole town celebrates my birthday,” Sammy said with