chapter six | car troubles

lately, I've been passing wineries and orchards for the past 10 miles and it doesn't seem to be stopping. all of a sudden thick smoke starts coming out of the hood of my car. I pull over and pop the hood. Boiling smoke poured out and I couldn't see anything.

How am I supposed to know how to fix this?! All I know is how to change a freaking tire not how to fix a smoking car. And how am I going to pay for this? It's going to take all that I have and even then some if I have to order parts. My life freaking sucks.

The moment I think that thought an old blue truck pulls over right behind my van. I watch as a man about my age gets out. As unbelievable as it is He's wearing boots and a red plaid shirt over a grey t-shirt with one of those big cowboy hats. Where the hell am I? The old west? Also, it might be the fumes coming from the engine but as he climbed out of his truck I couldn't help myself but check him out.

"Well, this doesn't look good. Do you need any help?" He asks approaching me.

"No I'm fine," I say and turn back around to stare at my smoking engine. What I don't need right now is being kidnaped by 'John Wayne'. What I do need is to call a towing company.

"Well, it kind of looks like you do. Do you have someone to come pick you up? Family?" Nope sorry partner some of us aren't that fortunate. "you can use my phone if you need to" he offers.

"No thank you, I'm going to call for a tow, thanks for offering," I say, I don't trust him. But then again I don't trust most people.

"Well okay if you really want to wait that's fine but the only person who can tow your car is Earl and he can't be out here for another hour, I should know I happen to be coming from his shop. I can drive you into town so at least you're not stuck in the heat while you wait" he offered again.

"Again, No thanks, like I said I'll call," I tell him again. What is wrong with me?! He's trying to be nice and I'm acting so bitchy.

"Whatever you say miss but I'd feel terrible leaving you out here all alone," he tells me while leaning on my van.

"And why not?" I ask. He's starting to make me feel nervous, why won't he leave? " I happen to be capable of taking care of myself"

"Because it'd be ungentlemanly of me."

"That may be but it doesn't change the fact that I still don't need your help."

"And why is that?" he asks with the smirk makes me want to slap off his smug face.

"Because I'm doing fine on my own,"

"Are you sure it's not because you think I'm some serial killer?" He asks.

"how am I supposed to know? I don't know you,?" I tell him emphasizing my point "and you calling yourself a serial killer is not helping your case"

"You should stop assuming things about me, you're terribly bad at it," he chuckles

"It doesn't matter," I finally give up, "I don't need your help, you can go"

"OK if that's what you want" he shrugs his shoulders and goes back to his truck. "You sure you'll be OK?" he yells back

"Yes I'm fine," I say undeniably tired of his southern hospitality.

From the front of my van, I can hear him mumble "Oh good we're back to the beginning."

OK, so it was probably a terrible idea to send my good Samaritan away because when I called the only mechanic in town the owner told me that it could be an hour and a half till he can come out here to get me. Now I am stuck in the blasting heat where the only shade to hid from the sun it is in my smoking van. He was a complete stranger but he was only trying to help me and it'd be worth being kidnapped if I got a ride in an airconditioned car. At least that way I wouldn't be sitting here in a hot car for 2 hours.

When the mechanic finally gets here and hooks up my poor baby to his truck, I jump up in the front seat with him and he talks my ear off. He's a fat old man in his late 60 I think, with a big gray-beard. On the ride into town, he talks and talks about anything and everything he can think of.

As we pull into his shop you'll never guess who was waiting there? It was my Good Samaritan. Yep, he was sitting on his tailgate with a big smug smirk on his face. Something that I'm guessing he does a lot.

"Hey, Austin what are you doing back here?" Earl, the mechanic asks they wanna be cowboy who I guess is named Austin. "Your shift ended almost two hours ago."

"Oh, You know me, can't resist a damsel in distress," Austin tells him winking at me.

"I am not a damsel. And I was not in distress." I say and unfortunately stomped my foot, acting like a stubborn toddler.

"Just lightening the mood," Austin says. He looks how I imagine any Austin should; with dark almost black hair, tan skin, and green eyes. But what am I even saying? This man has been annoying me from the second we met, I can not be drooling over him. But unfortunately, my savior has the body of a Greek god.

"Why are you here?" I ask him.

"I work here believe it or not and wanted to make sure you or Earl didn't need any help," he offers. Why does he have to be so stinking helpful? It's so challenging to be mad at someone who has only ever tried to help you.

"Y'all'd've met? Small world isn't it," Earl says in his thick southern accent, interrupting our conversation.

"Very small," Austin says, his smirk never leaving his smug face. while He laughs and it's a huge filling kind laugh. The kind that echoes around the room and leaves no room for anything else. It was the kind that made you want to smile.

"Too small," I mumble under my breath. Austin instantly hears me and laughs a powerful laugh that fills the room. It's the kind of rare laugh that makes you automatically smile. If it came from anyone else I would have, except that it was Austin's laugh and I have to keep up this vendetta that I've developed for him. "So what's wrong with my baby?" I ask Earl once it gets quiet again.

"Your baby?" Earl asks looking me up and down.

"My van" I translate for him.

"Oh, it's definitely radiator, its cracked. Mhm. Yep, you're going to need a new one" he tells me looking in the engine.

"How long will it take to fix?" I ask

"Probably a week to order the parts I need, then a couple days to install," he tells me scratching his beard while thinking.

"You can't be serious! Almost two weeks to fix a radiator? Don't you have one lying around?!"

"Sorry miss but you're not in no fancy town no more'. Besides you don't have the most common car."

"But there has to be a way," I plea.

"Sorry miss you're going to have to bunk over at Miss Susie's down the road till I can fix her. I'll call you when the parts are in." I begrudgingly give him my contact information and ask for directions to the bed n' breakfast. Austin points me down the road and tells me it is the last house on the right. Apparently, there is not a single hotel in this town.

When I get to Miss Susie's there is, big surprise, no vacancies. So now I don't even have a place to stay, not even in my car. I guess I need to go get some of my belongings from my van and then come up with a game plan. Maybe there is a hotel in a town nearby that I can stay in. hopefully, it isn't too far away because I'll have to walk there.

As I get to the open garage I can't see anyone "Hey, Earl. Are you still here?" I call out.

"I'm in the back " he practically yells down the hall. I walk down a long hall with pictures of what must be his favorite cars sloppily handing on the walls. I see Austin's still here leaning against the wall while Earl is at the desk behind a practically antique computer.

"I just came by to get some of my things from my van, can I get the keys back?"

"There are on the hook by the door," he says pointing behind me. I tried not to make eye contact with Austin but failed when I saw him staring at me. I grab my keys and leave the room as quickly as I can, but jump when a hand catches my elbow in the hall. I instinctively back up against the wall and hence away out of instinct. Once I realize that ist only Austin i try to catch my breath.

"Sorry I didn't mean to startle you," he says holding his hands up in surrender. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I say as my heart rate starts to slow down.

"Did you get a room at the bed n' breakfast?" he asks.

"Yes," I say.

"Are you lying?" he asks.

"Why do you care so much?"

"Because I do. Now I'll ask again. Did you get a room at the Susie's?" he asks daring me to lie, but unfortunately for him, this is a dare I'm willing to take. The last thing I need is this bleeding heart of a man to feel sorry for me.

"Yes, I did."

"You're lying."

"What?!" well fuck me.

"Your eyes tell more than you think," he says. I instantly look away, "you need a place to stay."

"I'm figuring it out."

"I'm sure you would. But my point is you don't have to. My home is big enough for one more. You can stay there till your car gets fixed," he says walking towards the exit as if I've already agreed, making me have to run to catch up with him.

"You don't need to do this," I say but he keeps walking in those damn boots.

"Oh but I do" he smirks at his own joke "if you ever met my mama you'd know why" he must see the confutation in my eyes because he clarifies "if she ever heard I let a girl go off and sleep on the streets when I was perfectly able to help her, do you know what she would do to me? It wouldn't be pretty" he says opening the passenger door to his truck. I could only stand there shocked. Am I really going to go with him? This has to be asking for trouble. I've made a lot of stupid decisions on this trip and equally met many stupid people but I have never met anyone who has offered to help me like this. And I don't know if I would have let them. If it was anyone else but a wannabe coy boy with a pantie dropping smile I would have said no.

"You getting in?" he asks

"Yeah. I mean I am," I study before climbing in.

It was quiet except for the radio playing and the ticking sound the engine was making. Should I start a conversation? Should I not? "So where are you from?" He asks.

"No wear exactly, just wandering around," I tell him, avoiding his question.

"What do you mean? Everyone has to call a place home." If only he knew how much I wanted to call a place home. To belong to any other place but that house made of broken walls and locked doors. If one place deserved to be called home then it was the cafe I worked at or the McDonald's I stopped at on the way here or this truck. Any place is more home then that house ever could be.

"It's a long story," I whisper. It was not a good idea to start a conversation I decided. Silence is always better than being asked questions I cannot answer.

"OK, then where are you headed?" He asks in his sweet southern accent. With an accent like that, it's easy to imagine him a hick that knows nothing but how to ride a horse and work the land. I could imagine that he knows nothing about literature, the world, or the arts. But the way he asks questions, the way he looks at people like he knows them, tells me that there is much more to him then I can imagine. The way he looks at me scares me because it is almost like he reads me and already knows me without me having to tell him anything.

"I don't have anywhere to be," I say glancing over at him but instead he is focused on the road.

"And let me guess long story?" he laughs but its not in a mocking way or frustrated way. He isn't offended that I'm not telling him anything or that my conversation skills are no match for his. Instead, he's asking like it doesn't matter to him like he already knows or soon will.

"Not even a story at this point,"

"Seems like you're full of secrets and questions you'll never answer," he says like its a joke but when he looks at me he is serious.

"It'd be simpler if they were true or false questions. Then I could answer them all" I joke

"True or false; do you like spaghetti and meatballs?" He laughs at the joke he made, this time I laugh too. When I don't answer he asks "what? Is this one too complicated?"

"No. this is one I can answer! True! Very True."

"Ok good, because that's what moms making for dinner," he says smiling.

"That's it? That's all you need to know?"

"Yep," he says popping the P.

"You're not going to ask how I'm going to pay you back, or even what my name is? You know nothing about me and you're okay with that? I could be a serial killer!"

"Well your name would be good to know but it sounds like you're only answering true or false questions and that's going to take to long to guess."

"My names Samantha Hills and just so you know I am in fact not a serial killer," I smirk at him.

"Really? I wouldn't have guessed!" he gasps jokenly "this is such a shock"

"Yep hate to break it to you but I don't kill people"

"Well it's nice to meet you, Sam," he said. No One's ever called me Sam before. "I'm Austin Cooper and as shocking as it is I haven't killed anyone either but once I hit my neighbor's cat with my car. But it's not dead or anything it just kind of limps around the neighborhood."

"Oh gosh! that is way worse! Now it's suffering."

"No now it gets sympathy points. trust me it gets extra attention and food from anyone now. I think I did him a favor."

"Whatever you're a cat hater."

"And your not a murder, You just gotta get over it."