at. I’m trying to be independent and do things on my own, but I couldn’t get it to start when I put the key in again and I tried calling everyone and—”
He looked up at her. “You’re great.”
She blinked. “Wh-what?”
“Doing great,” he managed, voice gruff.
For some reason, she needed to hear that. “Thank you,” she told him in a small voice and sipped the coffee again. Her tears dried a little and her panic ebbed. “I know we’re strangers but you can’t know how much I appreciate you being here. It means everything to me.”
He looked up from under the hood of the car, his gaze hidden by the shadows thanks to his hat. For a moment, she wanted to see his face. To see if his eyes were filled with kindness and understanding or scorn. Blake’s face would have been filled with irritation, and he’d have made her feel stupid, like it was her fault for the car breaking down.
Just thinking about that made her nervous. “I didn’t do anything, you know.”
“Huh?”
“To the car. It wasn’t me. I was driving it like normal and it just died.”
Caleb nodded, his hat bobbing.
“I didn’t hit anything in the road,” she felt desperate to explain. Like she needed to somehow prove that she wasn’t the screwup here. “And it’s got plenty of gas. I get oil changes on the regular—”
“It’s fine,” he said. “Quit apologizing.”
Oh. Okay.
She clutched at the blanket and drank a ton of the delicious coffee while he poked and prodded at things. He got in the car and tried turning the key once or twice, pumping the gas pedal, and it was on the tip of her tongue to start making excuses again, but she bit them back. He said it was fine. She had to believe him. He just . . . wasn’t the chatty type. That didn’t mean he disliked her. It just meant he wasn’t much of a talker.
Amy bit her lip as he popped the trunk and got out of the car once more, heading to the back. She followed behind him, a blanket-wrapped, caffeinated lump of helplessness. “I was hitting up an estate sale,” she told him breathlessly, remembering some of the contents of the trunk. “That’s why I’m out late.”
“Didn’t ask,” he said as he lifted the trunk. He stared at the boxes for a moment, then grabbed a handful of linens and pushed them aside, searching for something.
Not only did it reveal her vulgar Humping Santa and Mrs. Claus, but it activated them, too. Amy watched in horror as Santa made a creaking noise and started bouncing his pelvis against his jolly wife. Caleb watched it for a moment, then cleared his throat and covered it up again. “Cable?”
She wanted to die of embarrassment. Did he think she was a pervert now? That she watched a lot of dirty shows on cable and had to fill her house with . . . humping things? What the heck? “No, I don’t watch a lot of cable,” she managed politely. “That’s not why they’re there. I got them to repurpose—”
“Jumper,” Caleb choked out. “Jumper cable.”
“Oh.” She thought for a moment. “Um, what do those look like exactly?”
He made another noise in his throat and then shut the trunk.
Amy cringed, clutching the thermos, and waited for him to blast into her. To tell her what an idiot and a failure she was for taking up his time.
A long moment passed. Then another. Was he waiting for her to say something? She bit her lip, uncertain.
Eventually, he spoke. “Mine are in my brother’s truck. Gonna need to drive you in,” Caleb said, the words slow and measured, almost as if practiced. “Probably the alternator, not the battery, but I can check it in the morning. You need to get home. It’s cold.”
She was cold. Freezing, actually. Her little boots were like all her clothes—fashionable but not suited for cold, snowy weather, and only the blanket and coffee were keeping her from turning into an ice-cream cone. “What should I do?”
“Me.” He coughed hard, then stammered. “I meant me. I’ll drive you home.”
Amy blinked at him. He really did say the strangest things. Shyness? A learning disability? Whatever it was, it wasn’t her business. All she cared was that he was kind. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”
He gestured at her car. “We’ll lock it. I can get a few parts in the morning and try things. Take it to a shop if I can’t get it