utterly relieved that someone had arrived to take care of the situation that she’d cried tears of joy. So now, today, she didn’t even mind his cranky expression.
Well, she minded it a little.
He’d just . . . he’d be such a handsome man if he smiled every now and then. He had the most amazingly beautiful eyes with long, unfair lashes. He had a rugged face and a thick beard, and the cowboy hat he wore made him look damn good . . . or at least it would if his mouth wasn’t flat in a somber expression. She’d met his brother Hank a few times, and while the man was an intimidating mountain of a human, he smiled when his playful, talkative little daughter was around, or when he looked at his new wife. Becca spoke glowingly of Hank, so Amy just figured he was quiet around strangers.
But Caleb? Even his sister-in-law said he was a very silent type and he rarely spoke to her.
Amy beamed at him, because it didn’t matter that he was gruff and surly. His actions were everything. “Are you sure you don’t mind? I can walk. It’s probably good for me.”
He glanced down at her shoes, then gave his head a small shake and stepped out into the hall, a silent signal that he’d wait for her. She tidied things one last time and then pulled on her jacket, readying to go out into the bitter winter wind. He really was the nicest man. “I hope I’m not taking up too much of your day.”
He didn’t respond to that. Not even a grunt.
Gosh, he’d talked to her Friday night and this morning, hadn’t he? She hadn’t imagined that? He was so silent right now it was starting to unnerve her, though. Amy tucked the vase of flowers against her side and walked out into the hall with him.
That got his silent attention. He frowned at the flowers as if they offended him.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Are you allergic? I didn’t want to leave them here because the smell was a little overwhelming in the classroom. I can put them back . . . ?”
He shook his head. “’S’fine.”
Well . . . that was a word. Maybe even two, if she used her imagination. It was a start. “I appreciate you taking all this time to help me out, Mr. Watson. I don’t know how I can thank you.” He said nothing, but that didn’t surprise her, so she continued on. “I hope I’m not pulling you away from something urgent. If I am, I totally understand and I can always just . . .” He kept walking, utterly quiet.
If she didn’t know better, she’d say he didn’t like her. But he’d been so kind Friday night. Kind this morning, too. Even now, he wasn’t being rude. Just . . . quiet. So she tried not to take it personally. Tried not to think about Blake, who was never silent, who liked to tell her in great detail all the things she did wrong on a daily basis.
But she was done with Blake. He wasn’t worth spending a single moment thinking about.
It was an awkward ride back to her house, but she audibly gasped when they pulled up and her car was in the driveway. “You fixed it already?”
Caleb shook his head.
“It’s not fixed?”
“Needs alternator part.”
Oh. She wanted to ask if that would take long to get, but a more worrying thought hit her. “Is . . . the alternator expensive?” She’d add it to her list of things she’d have to pay for by pawning things. A Christmas tree for the classroom, presents, an alternator, a new ceiling for the bedroom, a new mattress . . . it made her stomach hurt just thinking about all of that.
Caleb shrugged, as if that answered everything. She wanted to scream in frustration at him, but she took a deep breath, clutched the cloying roses, and got out of the truck.
When she got inside her house, though, something seemed . . . different. She set the roses on the counter by the sink and it took her a moment to notice that her faucet wasn’t dripping. Surprised—and pleased—she turned the water on and off to test it. It worked perfectly, and not a single drop spouted from the handle. When she turned the water off, nothing dripped. “You fixed this.”
Caleb grunted.
She looked around the kitchen, but the dog wasn’t in his corner. His food bowl was empty, too.