* * *
He definitely wasn’t lookingat the bakery.
Sammy gathered himself to head home. He planned to keep his eyes on the tire in front of him without a glance right or left.
But then, as he pedaled past the bakery’s parking lot, he heard a metallic clang. Like it was operating on its own, his head turned toward the sound. Underneath a streetlight, Robin was wrestling with a tire iron near the delivery van. Even from across the lot he saw the tire was completely flat.
Aw. He couldn’t ignore that.
He pedaled into the lot. “Need some help?”
She gave the wrench another push. “I think it’s iced over.”
“Let me give it a try.” Sammy crouched down next to the flat tire. Robin moved aside and sat on the spare tire nearby.
“Grandpa Jim taught me how to change a tire before I moved to California, but I’ve never actually had to do it.”
The cold of the ground seeped through Sammy’s jeans as he kneeled to tug on the tire iron. No give. He stood. “Looks like I’m going to need some leverage.” He checked to make sure the car jack was stable, then bent and put all his weight into cranking on the wrench.
It started to give and he nearly stumbled backward.
“Now we’re cooking.” He finished taking the lug nut off and then worked his way around the others.
Robin rolled the spare tire over to him and helped him attach it to the vehicle.
When they were finished, Robin stamped her feet and rubbed her hands together. “Thanks. I would’ve been out here in the cold for a long time if you hadn’t ridden by.”
“It was no problem. What are you doing out here, anyway?”
A shadow that had nothing to do with the passing clouds brushed over her face. “I need to drive the two hours down to Duluth today. And if I don’t leave in, like, the next ten minutes, I’m not going to make it at all.” Her voice choked out at the end.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea. The storm has left everything super slippery.”
“I don’t have a choice. I…” She ducked into the van and turned the key and started the engine. There wasn’t any indication she was ever going to finish that sentence.
“You what?” He held the doorframe.
She put both hands on top of the steering wheel and let out a long breath. “I messed up.”
Whatever he’d expected to hear, it wasn’t that. “Okay. Want to talk about it?”
She gave a little noise that could have been a laugh or a whimper—he wasn’t sure which. When she spoke again, he had to lean in close to hear her words. “I forgot to order yeast.”
“Yeast?” Now he was confused.
Her eyes blazed, and he was tempted to step back, but maybe she wasn’t mad at him. “How ludicrous, right? I run a bread bakery, for crying out loud. How could I forget the one critical piece of running the place?”
Oh no.
“Can’t you just get some at the grocery store?”
She barked a short laugh. “I tried that. They barely had enough in stock for half of what I need for one day. My next shipment doesn’t come in for three days, and even ordering it online with rush shipping won’t get it here fast enough.” She pounded the steering wheel in time to her words. “This ridiculous tiny town in the middle of nowhere.” Her hands stilled, and she looked him in the eye. “So yeah. I have to drive down to Duluth. The Fox can’t afford to be closed more than one day.”
Well, he had a few things to say about that, but it was clear she was in no mood to hear it. “Okay. But you’re not going alone. I’m coming with you.”
“You can’t do that. What about your customers? You’re not going to make any money if you keep bailing me out.”
“I don’t have anything on the schedule today. Everyone is pretty much closed on Sundays. I was just headed home.”Please say yes.
