Bea (5 page)

“I’ll take a look see while you eat breakfast,” he finally said.

Breakfast turned out to be surprisingly good, even if they did have to sit on two up-ended crates and balance their food on a wooden cracker barrel. On a whim, Bea bought Russ a rubber doll in a hula skirt to hang on his rearview mirror.

“To keep you entertained after I’m gone,” she said, handing it to him as they climbed back into his truck.

He laughed at the way the doll shimmied when he took it by the string. Bea kept surprising him.

He suspended his dancing rubber doll, then headed back to the garage. The mechanic emerged from underneath the Jaguar with bad news.

“I don’t carry parts for these foreign-built cars,” he told Bea. “Too expensive. And besides that, I don’t get too many of them here in Pearcy.” He showed two chipped teeth when he laughed.

“Is there anyone nearby who is equipped to work on my car?”

“I can do the work. I just don’t have the parts.” Hal pushed his greasy cap back and scratched the top of his head. “Let’s see now...the closest dealership is Memphis.”

Bea’s journey home was taking on all the complications of an expedition to the North Pole. She tried to look on the bright side as she discussed the many possibilities of repairing her car with Pearcy’s only mechanic, but finally decided there
was no
bright side.

“All right then,” she told him. “I’ll leave it here while you order parts, and I’ll pick it up on the way back to Dallas.”

Russ was leaning against a stack of old tires, whistling some ridiculous country song that grated on her nerves.

“Where can I rent a car?” she added.

The mechanic laughed and slapped his thigh. “Who’d want to rent a car in Pearcy?”

“I do.”

“Well, this ain’t Little Rock.”

“So I’ve been told.” She squared her shoulders and tried again. “What’s the nearest town that might have a car-rental agency?”

Russ listened to the towns the mechanic named: Hot Springs, Little Rock, Jacksonville. He didn’t know why he was still hanging around. His job was done. He’d seen her and her car safely to the garage. He’d even seen that she had a proper breakfast, if you could call redeye gravy proper. And he did. He didn’t know what time it was, but it felt late. Ordinarily he’d have been on the road by this time of morning, heading toward a strange town, any town without orange groves and a sky so blue it hurt your eyes to look at it—any town that wasn’t LaBelle, Florida.

He shifted his weight away from the tires and started toward the door. He didn’t even owe Bea a goodbye.

He’d honk his horn and wave when he got into his truck.

As he reached the door, he heard Bea inquiring if anyone in Pearcy could be hired to drive her into Hot Springs. Russ kept on walking. It wasn’t his problem anymore. Bea was a resourceful woman. She’d handle whatever needed to be handled.

He already had the key in the ignition when he made a fatal mistake. He took one last look through the garage door. Something about the determined set of Bea’s shoulders made him think of a little girl playing grownup. He knew what he was going to do. He didn’t stop to question his motives. He didn’t want to even
think
about his motives.

With one hand still on the wheel, he leaned over and rambled through the truck pocket till he found his map. He consulted it quickly and stuffed it back in the pocket. Then he pulled the key from the ignition, opened the door, got out of his truck and went back into the garage.

“I’ll take you home.”

“What?” Bea turned around to face him.

“I said, I’ll take you home.”

“I heard what you said.” Her voice softened. “I just don’t know why you said it.”

“You need to get home and I need an odd job.”

“It would be odd, all right. The two of us traveling together in your pickup truck.”

“The Odd Couple?”

“Worse.
Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?”

“I don’t recall a Virginia Woolf in these parts,” Hal interrupted, scratching his head and looking at the two of them as if they had lost their minds. “Is she any kin to the Woolfs up around Heber Springs?”

“I don’t think so.” Bea held back her smile. “Did you think of anyone who could drive me into Hot Springs?”

“Like I was saying, I might be able to take you over that way myself, but it’d be sometime this afternoon ‘fore I could get loose here.”

Bea considered her options. If she waited for Hal, she’d lose almost an entire day. And she’d already lost one. Uncle Mack and Aunt Rachel would arrive in Florence tomorrow. The rest of her relatives would be there the day after—and she didn’t want to miss a single thing.

“I accept your offer, Russ Hammond. You can drive me home, and I’ll pay you a fair price. It will be business straight down the line. Deal?” She held out her hand.

“Deal,” he said.

Her hand had a soft, boneless feel that was unexpectedly feminine, though why it was unexpected, he couldn’t say. He held it longer than he meant to and longer than he should have. The slight flush that came into her cheeks told him so.

“Let’s get this show on the road,” he added.

He transferred her suitcase to the back of his pickup while she made arrangements to return for her car. Then he escorted her to his truck, opened the door and admired an up-close-and-personal view of her legs.

“That’s not much of an outfit for traveling,” he said. “Don’t you want to change into something more comfortable?”

“This
is
comfortable.” Bea settled onto the seat. “There’s no sense in taking on sloppy habits just because I’m traveling.”

“I guess one man’s sloppiness is another man’s comfort. I call these comfortable.”

Russ ran a hand absently down the thigh of his faded blue jeans. Bea tried not to notice, but couldn’t help herself. He had such a fine body. Wait till she told the Dixie Virgins. Joanna would drool.

If he’d been deliberately flaunting it, Bea could have handled him with disdain. But the sensuous movement had been entirely unconscious.

She caught her lower lip between her teeth and turned to stare out the windshield.

“Don’t you think we should be leaving? It’s going to be a long drive, and I’d like to get home tonight if we can.”

Russ came around and climbed behind the wheel. “You can forget tonight. This old baby won’t make the time your Jag did, and there’s no sense driving into the night. If everything goes well, I’d say you’ll be home sometime tomorrow morning.”

“What about tonight?”

The loud rattling of the truck almost drowned out her question. Russ idled the engine, letting it warm up before he answered.

“I usually camp out when I’m on the road.”

“I hate camping.”

“That’s fine with me. I have only one sleeping bag anyhow.”

He revved the engine and reached for the radio at the same time. Twangy country music filled the truck. Bea’s stomach lurched, and for a minute she thought she was going to lose her breakfast. Already she was regretting her decision to let this drifter take her home. But she was determined to make the best of it.

“Since I’m footing the bill, I suggest we stop for the night in a motel.”

“Whatever you say.” He pursed his lips to whistle along with the music, then changed his mind and winked at her. “We’ll find another Paradise.”

“I sincerely hope not.”

They left the garage with a loud fanfare. The truck backfired and rattled with a vengeance. Bea held her peace.

Soon the little town of Pearcy was behind them. They rode in silence. Without saying so, both of them understood that silence was the best way for them to get along.

Bea’s toe began to twinge, and she thought about slipping her boots off to give the pain some room; but she quickly rejected that notion. Pulling off her boots would be a comfortable, even intimate gesture. She didn’t want Russ getting the idea that she was comfortable around him, and she certainly didn’t want him to entertain the idea that she harbored feelings of intimacy. She’d just keep her boots on and suffer.

Glancing down at her watch, she saw that it was already eleven o’clock.

“It seems to me we should be off these winding mountain back roads by now,” she said.

“I prefer traveling the back roads. It’s more scenic.”

“I’m not interested in the scenery. I want to get home.”

“Maybe you should try clicking your ruby-red slippers, Dorothy.”

“Don’t you ever take anything seriously?”

He glanced her way. If he hadn’t, she would never have seen his eyes. For an instant she saw pain peering from the depths of all that deep blue innocence. The look vanished quickly, though, and he was once more the careless maverick.

“Not anymore.” He turned his face back to the road. “However, since you’re footing the bill, I don’t want you worried that you aren’t getting your money’s worth. I’ll meander toward a super highway with generic scenery as soon as we get down out of these mountains.”

There was a loud grinding sound and then ominous silence. The engine stopped, the radio went dead, and even the whistling quit.

“Just like a dead fish in the water,” Russ said, settling back in his seat.

“I would have said a dead whale, but to each his own.”

Bea checked her watch again. Five after eleven. Russ was sitting on his side of the truck with his head leaned back and his eyes closed.

“You’re napping? At a time like this?”

He opened one eye and glanced her way. “This happens occasionally. The truck shuts down and takes a little rest.” He folded his arms across his chest and shut his eyes again. “I suggest you do the same.”

“I’m not a truck,” she said, and he chuckled. “I fail to see the humor in this situation.” She tapped her fingers against the dashboard. “Aren’t you going to even see what’s the matter?”

“Vapor lock, so I’ve been told. There’s nothing to do but wait for the truck to cool off.”

“At this rate, I’ll probably get to Florence in time to help truss the Thanksgiving turkey.”

“You don’t relax much, do you?” Russ didn’t even look her way. If he hadn’t been talking, she might have thought he was asleep. Or dead.

Bea didn’t even bother to reply. If anything was going to be done to remedy the situation, she’d have to do it herself. She got out and hobbled around the truck, looking for signs of a breakdown. Her toe was hurting in earnest now. The way her luck was running, she figured her mind would go next.

A suspicious puff of smoke wafted from under the hood.
Aha. A visible sign of trouble.
If she could get under there and take a look, she might be able to fix it. It was an old truck. She thought she could lift the hood by releasing some kind of latch underneath it. She rounded the front of the truck and reached toward the hood.

“Don’t.” Strong hands gripped her shoulders and pulled her back.

She twisted her head and looked over her shoulder at Russ’s face. He was furious.

“What in the hell kind of fool trick are you trying to pull? Don’t you know you can get burned?” He still had her in a tight grip.

“Let go of me. I’m not some spoiled, silly child.”

“Then stop acting like one.”

He turned her around so that they were face to face. His hands bit into the tender flesh at the top of her arms and a tight muscle jumped in the side of his jaw.

Why in the world was he so angry? If he expected her to feel chastised or foolish, he was completely mistaken. She lifted her chin and stared straight into his eyes. Something moved there. A flame of recognition.

Suddenly Bea was aware of the way his body touched hers, of the feel of hard thighs against her skirt and solid muscle against her blouse. She felt a little light-headed. It was pure animal attraction, the very worst kind. Her Virginia was doing a fandango while her mind was off vacationing in Hawaii.

“I thought you were asleep.” She could think of no sane reason why she sounded one of those sappy heroines on a late-night movie. “I didn’t see you get out.”

He didn’t answer her immediately. He couldn’t. He hadn’t been with a woman since Lurlene. How long had that been? Two years? Two and a half? All that deprivation was making him soft in the head.

“Why aren’t you still in the truck sleeping?” she said.

“I would be if you hadn’t decided to play mechanic.”

“Well, one of us had to something, and it obviously wasn’t going to be
you.
”

There’s nothing you can do out here, Bea. The truck will take twenty or thirty minutes to cool off, and then we’ll be on our way again.”

It was the first time he’d ever called her anything except toots or tiger lady or boopsy or sweetheart. For some reason, his use of her name made her feel friendlier toward him.

“Why didn’t you tell me so in the first place?”

“I guess it’s because I like to see your stinger.”