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“Faye. Please tell me you didn’t. Dad raised us better than that. We don’t ask for handouts. You should have—”
“Save it. I know. Don’t you think I thought of that? I should have figured out a way to get it fixed on my own, but that’s sorta hard when I’m always stuck on the ranch doing all the work that my sisters used to do.” She let the words spew forth from her mouth, not caring if they caused Grace any discomfort.
Yes, it wasn’t Grace’s fault that she’d found a job she loved and she could help people work through hard stuff. But out of the seven of them, there were less than half still carrying the weight of the family business.
Her father could hire as many men as he wanted, but just as Faye remained connected to her mother, she felt the same pull to her father. She could see how it tore him up inside to have all her sisters leaving the nest and finding men of their own.
Well, that wasn’t going to be her. Faye was loyal. She’d remain by his side until the end if that’s what he wanted.
It was just too bad she couldn’t bring herself to ask for his help with the truck. No one understood. Not even her father. She was completely alone.
Faye could feel Grace’s eyes on her through that blasted mirror, but she refused to meet her sister’s gaze. There would be no talking about this. There would be no hashing it out. She’d finally come to the most logical explanation and that was fine.
Perfectly fine.
She needed to get her thoughts off the truck and onto something else—anything else. Thinking about the truck would only serve to make her day that much worse.
Dumb truck.
Dumb Riley for being willing to help.
And dumb Adam for making a bad situation ten times worse.
Adam was a few years older, so she hadn’t interacted with him much when they were younger. She’d never really been curious about him until this exact moment. Hadn’t he left town? Was it for a job? Or maybe it was for college. She couldn’t remember, and the town’s gossips didn’t seem to have much to say about him anyway.
He was the kind of guy a girl could fantasize about, which was probably the reason she was so willing to allow her thoughts to linger.
Adam was quiet, but he had kind eyes. She loved the way they wrinkled as if he’d spent every waking moment smiling.
Though she knew for sure that was one thing that wasn’t accurate. The way he’d looked at her so dumbfounded at her request made it perfectly clear that Adam was capable of making other expressions as well—grumpy ones, to be exact.
So why was she suddenly wishing she could turn this truck around and go demand that he make an offer on what he was willing to do?
The truck.
All of her motives had more to do with the truck and less with the person who might be able to fix it. The image of his beautiful face was trespassing in her head at the moment, and she wanted him out.
Except for some reason she couldn’t make that happen. Adam had set up shop in her mind and he had no intention of leaving.
Wait a minute.
Did that mean that he might be a clue to something she hadn’t seen for herself? It was possible he might have been willing to fix her truck. Had she left too early to make that miracle happen?
Well, it was too late now. They were already halfway home. If she wanted to go talk to Adam about fixing her truck, she’d have to do it another time.
There was only one problem. Her heart didn’t want to be patient. That little organ had a mind of its own and wanted to turn this truck around right away. But one look at her sister, and she knew better than to ask for it.
Faye leaned forward, scooting closer to the edge of her seat. “Can I ask a favor?”
Grace shot a look at her over her shoulder. “Okay.”
“Can I take the truck around? After we get home, of course.”
“Why?”
Faye flinched. Yep. Her sister couldn’t just let her have this—no questions asked. “Do I really have to answer that?”
“It’s my—”
