I checked the road and pulled out—slowly. Scarlet, well she could be a bitch sometimes, so I treated her with kid gloves.
Finally, I saw the Welcome to Lone Mountain sign and gave a sigh of relief. I was coasting into town, praying every moment I wasn’t doing more damage to Scarlet. The main street had a diner, a general store that looked like it doubled as the post office, a bar called Mack’s, and—thank God — Lou’s Garage. Apparently, everyone in town liked simple names for their businesses.
I pulled Scarlet to a stop in front of the garage and she seemed to sigh with relief. I walked into the open bay where an older gentleman in grease-stained coveralls was bent over the engine of a truck that looked older than him and my mother put together. “No offense, Mom,” I murmured beneath my breath. “Excuse me? Lou?”
He straightened, wiping his hands on a rag that looked like it could stand up on its own it was so saturated in oil. His face was tanned and weathered and he had the kind of eyes that had seen everything twice. “That’s me. What can I do for you?”
“My car just died. Like, completely gave up on existence. Can you look at it?”
Lou walked around Scarlet like a doctor eyeing a terminal patient. He popped the hood and made a series of thoughtful humming noises that did not inspire confidence.
“When’s the last time you had her serviced?”
I winced. “Define serviced.”
He gave me a look.Thelook, but I simply smiled back at him. “I check the oil?” I offered weakly.
“Uh-huh.” He dove back under the hood, prodding things with tools I couldn’t name.
Five minutes later, he delivered the verdict. “Your timing belt’s shot. You’re lucky to make it here without it taking out the water pump or the engine seizing.”
My stomach dropped. “How lucky are we talking?”
“Lucky enough that I can fix it. Unlucky enough that I gotta order parts. Week, maybe ten days.”
“A week?” I hadn’t made the squeaky sound since I’d seen a spider crawling its way up the wall of my shower.
“Maybe ten days,” he repeated, maddeningly calm.
“How much?”
He scratched his jaw, doing mental math that I knew I wasn’t going to like. “Parts and labor? Fifteen hundred, give or take.”
I did not have fifteen hundred dollars. I had about four hundred in checking and a credit card I’d sworn I’d only use for emergencies.
Rule #19: Don’t borrow more than you can afford to pay back.
Momma’s voice rang clear in my head.
But what was I supposed to do? Hitchhike to California? Sell a kidney? This counted as an emergency. Definitely counted.
“Okay,” I said, nodding like a functional adult who made good life choices. “Um. Is there a hotel nearby? Or a motel? A room above the bar? Literally anywhere with a bed.”
Lou frowned. “Well. There’s the Lone Mountain Inn, but—”
“Perfect. I’ll—”
“—they’re booked solid. Some destination wedding this weekend. Whole town’s packed. Every room, every cabin, every rental within forty miles.”
The hope in my chest popped like a balloon. “Oh.”
“Yeah. Couple from California wanted to get married in nature. Flew in a hundred guests. Town’s been preparing for months.”
“I bet it was the dating app, wasn’t it?”
He scratched his head, confused. “How did you know?”
“Lucky guess. So I’ll just...” I pulled out my phone, scrolling through options I didn’t have. “There has to be something.”
