“You asked me the same thing an hour ago,” Charlie said. “Keep your shirt on. I’ve checked my own inventory and don’t have four alike but I think I’ve located a good used set in Batesville.”
“Think, or know?” Shane eyed his office through the grimy window between it and the garage. Being the only auto repair shop in town sometimes had its drawbacks. “It looks like she is planning to sit right here until I get her truck back on the road.”
“So?”
“So, I don’t like it.”
“What’s the matter, is she ugly?”
Shane shook his head and turned his back on the window. “No. She’s actually a knockout.”
“So, she’s raising a ruckus?”
“Not that, either. There’s just something strange about her. Maybe it’s the way she’s been staring at me. I don’t know.”
“You saved her life, right?”
Shane nodded. “Yeah.”
“Then I wouldn’t worry. She’s probably got a bad case of hero worship.”
“I suppose that could be it.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Give me a call as soon as you know anything definite, will you?”
“If she’s as pretty as you say, why not just enjoy her company?” He chuckled. “If I wasn’t so busy here I’d drop by and take her off your hands.”
Shane was shaking his head as he said, “No way. She’s not that kind of woman. She’s... I don’t know, sort of fragile.”
“Skinny?”
“Not at all. I can’t explain it. All I know is she seems lost. Even lonely. The first time she opened her eyes and looked up at me after the fire she reminded me of an injured deer surrounded by a pack of hungry coyotes.”
“Sounds to me like you’re as scrambled as she is. I’ll get back to you ASAP.”
“Okay. Thanks.” Shane pivoted when he heard the back door slam.
A bundle of energy raced toward him, arms raised, and Shane swung his five-year-old son off the ground. “Hey, buddy. Why are you here so early?”
“Memaw’s gonna go get beautiful.”
“Did you tell her she already is?”
Kyle’s head bobbed, making his honey-blond curls bounce. “Uh-huh. But she didn’t believe me.”
Holding the boy close, Shane looked past him to smile at Marsha. “Hey, Mom, we both think you’re pretty enough.”
“Well, I don’t. Look at all the gray in my hair. I don’t want Otis to start thinking he married an old lady.” She began to fan her overly rosy cheeks and giggle like a love-struck teenager.
It had pleased Shane when his widowed mother had finally fallen in love again and remarried, but it was still hard to picture Otis Bryce as a father figure, let alone see his own mother as a blushing bride. Just short of turning thirty, he’d pictured people his mother’s age as too old to care about romance.
About to reassure her about her good looks, Shane was stopped by a shrill squeal next to his ear.
“A puppy!” Kyle was squirming in his arms and pointing at the waiting room. “Let me go see!”
It took Shane a second to realize why the boy was so excited. “That dog belongs to the lady who’s holding him.”
“Okay.” He continued to struggle against Shane’s restraint. “I wanna pet him. Can I, Daddy? Can I? Please...?”
Taking the child’s hand, he cautioned him, “All right. Just go slowly and don’t yell or you might scare him.”
“Puppies love kids. Everybody says.”
“Well, that dog isn’t a pup. He’s all grown up. And sometimes little dogs bite because they get scared. We need to ask the lady if you can pet him and do whatever she says. Understand?”
“Uh-huh.”
The five-year-old was leaning forward, dragging his reluctant father along as if he were towing a semitruck behind a tricycle. Shane saw his customer gather up her pet and stand. Although she had looked wary when Kyle had screeched, she was currently smiling.
“This must be your son,” Jamie Lynn said.
The child beamed. “I’m Kyle. I wanna play with your dog!”
“Can you play nicely and be careful you don’t hurt him? He’s getting kind of old.”
“Daddy told me.”
“Kyle thinks every small dog is a puppy,” Shane explained. “I told him that Useless was all grown up.”
She cradled her beloved fur ball as she sat again, placing the wiggly white mound on her lap. “Let him smell your hand before you try to touch him so he knows you’re friendly.”
Ulysses sniffed, then started to lick the boy all the way from his fingertips to his wrist.