Kitabı oku: «Wander Canyon Courtship», sayfa 3

Chapter Six

Yvonne held her breath as she stood beside Ziggy. Together they stared at the crumpled vehicle that had once been her bakery van. Ziggy resettled his baseball cap and gave a low whistle. “Nope. She’s a goner.”

Ziggy’s Valley Garage was one of the few businesses no one even considered renaming in the transformation from Matrim’s Valley to Matrimony Valley. Not only was Ziggy’s a memorable name, but no one had yet come up with a decently marriage-related garage name—although Mayor Jean had bemoaned a few horrid contenders. Not one person on the town council could ever stomach suggesting “The Marriage Carriage” to Jerome Zigler, so Ziggy’s Valley Garage stayed Ziggy’s.

Yvonne would have swallowed any ridiculous name if it had meant Ziggy gave her better news about her van. “You’re sure? You know I only had four more payments.” She moaned. “I was so looking forward to buying a new one in the spring.”

Ziggy nodded at the dented vehicle. “Gonna have to buy a new one now, I guess.” He shrugged. “Got good insurance?”

“I have insurance.”

Good was not the word that came to mind an hour ago when she ended her thirty-minute phone conversation with her insurance company. “But they won’t pay out enough for me to get a new one.” By the spring, she would have put away enough to be able to get a nice shiny new van.

Now the only van she could afford to buy would have to be another used one. It was hard to trust God would provide after such a double whammy of misfortune. This morning she couldn’t seem to muster enough faith to overpower the disappointed ache in her stomach.

“Tough break.” The mechanic put a commiserating hand on her shoulder. “I’ll keep an eye out for a bargain, if you like.”

All of North Carolina likely didn’t hold the bargain she’d need to meet this new challenge. “Thanks. I’d appreciate that.” With a resigned sigh, Yvonne held out her hand.

“Here you go.” Ziggy gave her the plastic bag she’d seen him holding as she walked up, the sight that told her the van was totaled even before the man spoke one word.

Ziggy’s strange ritual for goner cars was as much a part of town legend as the falls: when a car was declared totaled or dead, Ziggy would remove all the lug nuts from the wheels and hand them to the grieving customer like an undertaker handing over last personal effects. Valley residents would take the bag out back to the river that ran behind town and ceremoniously throw the lug nuts into the water in an odd ritual of farewell.

Everybody knew it was ridiculous, but everybody did it anyway. Yvonne often wondered just how large the pile of metal remembrances was down there at the bottom of the river. The thought that she was about to add to that pile settled hard as iron in her soul.

Her face must have shown the despair. “I can take ten dollars off the tow fee if you’ll bring by another box of doughnuts tomorrow morning,” he offered.

She had brought Ziggy a dozen doughnuts today as a thank-you for coming halfway to Asheville to pick up her van—or what was left of it—at no extra charge. That was one of the best things about the valley. Everybody looked out for everybody else. Even when her yearning for a life beyond the valley pulled as hard as it had this year, Yvonne could talk herself out of it by remembering this community. After all, how could she ever be sure the rest of the world held folks like Ziggy? Or Jean, or Kelly?

Such wondering didn’t matter because now she surely couldn’t afford to do anything but stay here. I should feel planted, Lord, but I feel stuck. Taking the bag, Yvonne left the garage with leaden steps. She turned her feet toward the river, steeling herself to toss the van’s “remains”—and what felt like any dreams of a bigger future—to their watery grave. She doubted tossing the sixteen metal pieces into the river would make her feel better. This morning her future seemed as totaled as the vehicle.

The sound of shouting stopped her a few yards back from the riverbank. Bursts of angry noise made her wonder if she was interrupting a fight of some kind, but the sound of something large hitting the water after each grunt made her curious.

She slowed down, keeping to the bushes until the curving shallow bank of the river came into view.

Chaz Walker stood there, hurling rocks into the water like grenades.

Cecil sat dutifully beside him, as if the two had been dog and owner for years instead of hours. Yvonne watched Chaz pick up another sizable rock, growl like an angry bear and send it flying into the water. While he uttered no words, she could hear the roar of his anger from her position by the trees.

There was someone else in town this morning who felt their future had been totaled. Yvonne believed lives didn’t intersect by chance, but why Chaz? Why now?

He threw two more rocks while she watched, and when he picked up a third, she turned to leave and come back another time. The sound of the rock hitting the bank with a defeated thud stopped her. She turned back toward the river to see Chaz just standing there, empty-handed, staring into the water. The set of his shoulders was pure hopeless frustration—much like hers, but then again, so much larger. After all, her loss was a van. Chaz had lost his claim to the place he called home. The lug nuts in her hands suddenly felt lighter than the large rock Chaz had let fall at his feet.

Cecil wobbled up to a stand—no easy task with the cast on his hind leg—and nudged up against Chaz. The silent show of friendship rose a lump in Yvonne’s throat, and she knew she couldn’t walk away.

“Good choice,” she called softly as she stepped out of the shade of the path and into the sunshine on the grassy riverbank. “Big rocks for big problems, my dad always said.”

Cecil turned and offered a woof of greeting. While Chaz startled a bit at her entrance, he mostly seemed too spent to care. It was just before noon, and the sheen of sweat on his face made Yvonne wonder just how long he’d been out here.

She walked toward him, holding out the bag in her hands. “Want to see how far you can send one of these?”

Chaz squinted in confusion at the contents. “Lug nuts?”

“Ziggy at the garage gives them to you to toss in the river when your car dies.”

He gave her exactly the look she’d expect from him at an oddball explanation like that. “You have to know how weird that sounds.”

Yvonne opened the bag and pulled one out. “Maybe it’s not so weird. I mean, what do rocks accomplish when you throw them?”

“Less harm than punches,” he said. There was something close to a shadow of a grin on his face. She’d never really seen him smile. He looked like he would have a handsome smile, but she doubted she’d ever get the chance to know.

“Still mad at your stepfather?” It was a silly question given the magnitude of what had happened last night.

Chaz nodded toward the lug nut. “If I told you I expect I could send this into Tennessee, does that answer your question?”

So he did have a tiny bit of humor in there somewhere. She handed the nut to him. “Let’s see.”

Chaz considered the nugget of metal for a moment. He then tossed it between his hands as if measuring its weight. With a final nod toward her, he turned toward the water, wound back his arm with a startling power and sent the shiny silver piece sailing what looked like miles upstream.

Crazy as it was, there really was a small zing of satisfaction to watching it fly in a sparkling arc. She did feel a tiny burst of closure as it dunked into the water with a resolute splash. Cecil barked and wagged his tail.

“Hmm,” she said, unsure of what comment to make. She settled for “Impressive.”

He gave her a dubious look before saying, “Your turn.”

Yvonne selected a nut, made a silly show of hefting it like Chaz had done and then sent it into the river perhaps a dozen yards away. While her throw was smaller by far in scale, the launch felt just as satisfying. She almost managed a laugh when Cecil barked an equal approval of her effort.

“What do you know?” she offered. “It does make you feel better.” She gave Cecil a generous pat before pulling another lug nut from the bag. “Have another go.”

“Oh, no.” He raised his hands as if to say I’m not getting involved in your crazy traditions. “They’re your ceremonial lug nuts.”

An actual joke. From Chaz Walker. She let herself enjoy the much-needed laughter. “But I like how far you can throw them.” She did. There was something about having the strength of him nearby, even last night, even amid his own pain. He seemed the sort to always stand steady while she felt as if she’d topple over at any moment.

She narrowed one eye at him, daring a bit of playfulness. “Think you can beat that last throw?”

There it was—the tiniest glimpse of a mischievous glint in his eye. He shifted his stance and raised one eyebrow. “Are you asking me for a personal-best dead-car lug-nut throw?”

She couldn’t help but like him. Just a bit. Sure, they were still at odds over Hank and Pauline, and the small tug she felt might be more commiseration than anything else. But for just this moment, here and now, Chaz Walker was the perfect antidote to all that was going wrong.

“As a matter of fact, I’m asking for a world-record dead-car lug-nut throw.” She plunked the scratched chrome piece into his hands, her fingertips brushing his calloused palm.

A split second of what? flashed between them before Chaz gave the nut a small toss or two. “World record?” he repeated, the mischievous look growing.

Was it odd to enjoy this? With him? “Epic,” she found herself replying. “Downright legendary.”

Their eyes connected for something that felt far too long before Chaz sent the piece of metal flying upstream a second time. An actual smile made it to his face when the nut splashed into the water perhaps a dozen yards farther than his first throw. Yes, Chaz Walker did indeed have a handsome smile. Rare, but handsome. Even Cecil offered a woof of congratulations.

Chaz turned to her. “Satisfied?”

“Surprisingly,” she replied, meaning it. She’d have to eat her words about Ziggy’s strange tradition after today. “Not that it helps with tomorrow’s wedding. Besides, I’ve got too much baking to do for Nancy’s reception to go down to Asheville to the rental car agency before then.”

Tomorrow’s wedding was another reason Pauline and Hank were in town. Nancy was a family friend, and their attendance at the event was supposed to have been an informal introduction of sorts of Hank to the family. Now her whole family would see how she couldn’t afford to replace the damaged van. The weekend just kept getting better.

“So how will you deliver the cake?”

“I only have to get everything across the street to Hailey’s inn.” She shrugged. “I’ll get some help to make it work.”

“I can give you a hand with that.”

She couldn’t have been more surprised. “You?”

“Seeing as I wrecked your car, it’s the least I can do.”

“I don’t blame you for what happened to my van.” She nodded toward Cecil. “Or him.”

“I was behind the wheel when it happened.”

Her van was not his fault. “You were helping me by being behind the wheel. I’m pretty sure if I had been behind the wheel, things would have been worse.”

He kicked at a rock with his boot. “Your van is totaled. We’re already at worse.”

Chaz’s sense of obligation was sweet, but misguided. “A lot worse could have happened. Someone could have gotten hurt. Or Cecil could have—” she searched for a kind way to put it “—not made it. You don’t owe me anything.”

He stepped a bit closer, lowering his voice as if they weren’t alone. “You’d be helping me, actually. I’m in no hurry to be a guest at this thing tomorrow. Dad and Pauline dragged me into it as it is, and after last night it’s the last place I want to be. If I say I have to help you, then maybe I can beg off going to the ceremony and reception.”

Shuttling the cake and dessert table sweets would be easier with another strong set of hands, and most of the valley residents were already busy with their own roles in making weddings happen. And, startling as it was, she was finding Chaz Walker rather nice to have around. When they weren’t arguing, that was. Which, at the moment, they weren’t.

“Okay, then, mister, you got yourself a deal. Be at the shop at ten in the morning. You’ll have to leave Cecil at home.”

He nodded. “Got it. Thanks.”

She wasn’t quite sure why it felt strange to say “You’re welcome.” After a pause, she made herself say, “I appreciate the help. So,” she said as she fingered another of the lug nuts. “Now that we’ve solved part of my problem, how about you? Feel any better?”

The amusement left his face at the reference to his own predicament. He shifted his gaze to the river, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “My problem takes more than hurling lug nuts to solve.”

Maybe she could return the favor and stand by him in his own problem. “I’m sorry about what’s happened with the ranch.”

“You and me both.”

She dared to say what she’d been thinking all night. “It doesn’t seem right. What Hank did.”

His whole body tensed at the words. “I’ll say,” he grumbled. “He wasn’t like this before. I’ve tried to get him to talk about succession issues for years.”

“Why now, then?”

“I’ve been asking myself the same question.” He pierced her with a glare that held none of the ease of their moments before. “And I only come up with one answer. Your aunt.”

She practically dropped the bag of lug nuts. “You think Pauline did this?”

“Do you have another explanation?” The sharpness in his eyes told her she’d just tipped the lid off the boiling pot of his anger. He began pacing the riverbank. “Suddenly Pauline comes into the picture and he goes off and makes this wild decision. Handing Wander Canyon Ranch down to Wyatt? This isn’t him. I don’t know how or why, but he wouldn’t do this before. So it’s got to be Pauline.”

That was a ridiculous idea. “My aunt didn’t have anything to do with what Hank decided.”

“How would you know? Things were fine before her. Maybe not perfect, but good. Headed in the right direction. Now this mess.”

Chaz’s words made Yvonne realize she didn’t actually know. She couldn’t say for a fact that Auntie P. hadn’t been somehow involved in the decision. Except for one thing: “This doesn’t sound like anything my auntie P. would ever think to do.”

“Yeah, well, my stepfather’s been doing things I didn’t think he’d ever do. He’s acting strange. He’s someone I don’t even recognize. Come on... Paris?” The edge in his tone made Cecil sit back down and the hair on the back of Yvonne’s neck stand up.

Pauline deserved Paris. She’d wanted a Paris honeymoon for as long as Yvonne could remember. “Where they honeymoon,” she said through gritted teeth as she tried to keep a lid on her own mood, “is not your call.”

“No,” he fired back, “because it’s all Pauline’s call. She had to put him up to this. She’s got to be what’s changed him. The Hank Walker I know wouldn’t...” Chaz didn’t finish the sentence, just picked up the rock he’d let fall earlier and sent it flying into the water with a fierce growl. Cecil offered no bark of approval this time, just silent, cautious attention.

Give the family ranch to your brother, Yvonne finished in her head for him. It lit fire to the doubt that had kept her awake last night as much as the demise of her car. What kind of man does that to his sons? “Look, I don’t know why Hank made that inheritance choice...”

“Succession,” he corrected without even looking at her. Neal used to correct her all the time, and it pushed her buttons as sharply then as it did now.

Yvonne stalked over to stand in front of him. “Pauline is not behind what your stepfather did. He is. Don’t you go blaming Pauline for Hank’s favoritism. And I have to say I don’t much care for the way your stepdad runs his family. The family my aunt Pauline’s about to become part of. So maybe you’re not the only one worried about what happens next.”