Chapter 6

HOLLY

October

Holly watched the temperamental man walk off with something akin to heartbreak and sadness overflowing within her. That man had the most beautiful features and combined; he was staggering to behold. It was like the angels had plucked every single unknown attractive element she wanted in a man, mixed it all together, talked it over with Karma, and then deposited all that beauty on the ugliest soul possible.

My goodness, could anyone be more hateful?

She ignored the tear that crept down her cheek, ignoring his painful words as they echoed in her mind. No, she wasn't married. She certainly wasn't dating, and it probably wasn't for the reasons he imagined. The fact that he'd said it aloud – oh, how it hurt. That and for the last two days, all her fragile sense of self whispered to her soul was two words.

Creature-Feature.

Cade thought she was unbearably ugly, a creature and the irony was not lost. He was the one who was ugly on the inside, not her. Treating her like garbage, pushing his way around, and bullying her was not going to get his car repaired anytime soon. Oh yes, Holly was a big enough sap that she'd already ordered the pulley, belt, and was already searching for a new radiator for his car – but would never admit it.

Walking out from under the car where she'd been changing the oil, feeling absolutely disgusting because she was hot, sticky, and had oil run down her arm into her arm pit, she stared at his departing figure, swallowing back the urge to call him back. No, her feelings were still hurt, and while she desperately wanted to have people like her, to find someone to share her life with – she had her pride.

She was never going to let someone treat her like garbage, and if he did? Was he even worth knowing?

Sighing heavily, Holly went back to finishing up the oil change on the car so she could get it off the lift. Yeah, she was still in a snit and was honestly quite surprised to see him show up.

Maybe the weather was getting to all of them because she was really ready for the heat to break. This was the third or fourth bout of a blistering heatwave that Texas was known for before things finally cooled down.

Growing up, she remembered trick-or-treating with her parents as a young girl, dressed as a witch and melting under the nylon hat, green wig, and itchy dress. Running around in unbreathable fabric when it was ninety-five degrees at dusk was rough – and it didn't get any better as you got older, she mused, looking at her sweaty coveralls.

"C'monnnn Fall," she muttered aloud, half-joking and half-begging if someone was listening Above. Their autumn would last maybe three weeks before they got their cold snap – dropping things down into the forties or fifties. That was the time of year that she lived for. Open windows, a breeze, pull out the blankets, dig out a jacket, heck. If it got chilly enough, she might light the chiminea on the back deck and roast a marshmallow or two.

The Harvest festival always signaled the town to take a collective breath because the weather was about to break. People came out in droves to see the pumpkin patch set up in the town circle near the wishing well. Kids bobbed for apples, and some shucked colorful ears of corn to proudly hang on the front door of the house, while others were just there to snag a few free samples of pumpkin ice cream from Scoops, caramel apple flavored coffees, and other delicacies.

Yes, she liked Fall, but only because it heralded the Christmas season. If the change in weather brought out the pumpkins and smiling faces, the Season of Giving opened their hearts, minds, and homes.

Christmas was a thing of beauty and hard to put into words. It wasn't just the decorations and the trees but a feeling of goodwill that seemed to emanate from the town itself. People laughed, hugged, bonded, talked, and there wasn't one Scrooge to be had among them.

"Until now, I guess," she grunted, frustrated that the bolt she was working on was cross-threaded and the heat had zapped her energy – not to mention her unexpected visitor had left her drained. Yeah, she really didn't have the heart to tap out the bolt and heli-coil the threads right now.

Nope.

It could wait until morning – just like contacting Cade.

Two days later, Holly was in the middle of doing a tire rotation and nearly dropped the tire and rim on her foot as a thought crossed her mind unexpectedly. She forgot to text Cade about his car – and the man was obviously stubborn enough to just leave it to see how long it would take her to reach out.

"Dang it…" she grunted, putting the tire on the ground and hurriedly digging out her phone from her pocket, wincing at the grime on the screen. She hurriedly wiped it across her T-shirt under her coveralls a few times to get it where it looked somewhat decent and began typing.

Cade – it's Holly from Beary Garage.

I looked at your truck. I have a belt and pulley coming already. I'm still working on locating a radiator, and I'm not sure if I can repair the seam. How fast are you needing your vehicle back, because I've got a few others I've got to finish up?

Hello?

Is this Cade Pruitt's number?

Frowning, she saw that the messages were ‘delivered' but he never responded. Maybe she had a wrong number, or perhaps his phone was on silent? Was he ignoring her deliberately?

"Hey-a Beary!" one of her neighbors hollered at the same time she smelled smoke. "You hear that Lourdes has finally done it?"

"Done what?"

"Lost her marbles – and there's a grass fire at her place that's just a-ragin'… wooo-wee!"

Was Cade out there? She immediately thought, glancing at her phone in her hand once more as the man ran off to see the commotion. The Martinez farm was far outside of town, but the wall of smoke rising in the distance now was a little eerie for sure. Thick black rolling smoke was rising high into the sky, and with each heartbeat, she wondered if he was out there before doing the unthinkable.

Be safe out there, and we can talk about your truck later.

Then, surprising herself, Holly grabbed the set of keys to the truck and pressed her lips together, determined. This was going to be a job, but a welcome one for sure. When she had seen the truck in the parking lot the next morning with the deep dent in the metal fender – it bothered her. She loved older cars because there was a character to them. To her, there was no better sound than a carburetor or a real motor.

"You better play nice," she told the truck as she slid into the seat… and smiled. Starting up the truck, she quickly pulled it in under the other minivan that was waiting for a transmission pan to arrive so she could get started.

Hours later, lots of four-letter words uttered under her breath, using a mini grinder, plasma cutter, and nearly stabbing herself in the hand with a screwdriver – there was a pile of rusted-colored debris under the side of the car. Years of dirt and who-knows-what crust had fallen from her while removing the old fasteners. Hefting carefully, Holly lifted the piece of metal onto a bench and smiled. This wasn't too bad and she could repair the bead along the edge, roll out the dents, and manage to make it look seamless once again.

It certainly wouldn't be quick work. No, it was meticulous and would take a while, but yes – she could undo what she'd damaged.

Hesitating, she rolled her stool toward the car and peered under the side panel of the hood, looking it over with a critical eye. It was in really good shape but in need of some cleaning, replacing a few wires that had been repaired instead of replaced.

"I bet you purr like a kitten, don't you?"

"More like she rumbles like an angry tiger," Cade's voice said from the open garage door as he stood there in his uniform. "It wasn't enough to kick in the fender, but now you are dismantling the thing?"

His eyes were full of pain and disbelief as he stared at her in shock. He looked so tired, his face covered in soot and sweat stains, and even his lips had a pale ring around them. She planted her boots down on the concrete floor and pushed back toward the mini-fridge, recognizing heat fatigue, and threw him a small bottle of Gatoraid.

"The heat wears a person out," she said simply as he caught the bottle, his mouth dropping open in shock. "And I thought I'd take a look at the fender to make sure I can fix it."

"I got your text," he said simply, as if he was unsure what to say.

"Yep," she acknowledged, rolling back toward the truck, pointing as she adjusted her greasy baseball cap once more. Yeah, she wasn't out to win any beauty contests right now and could smell her own sweat despite her deodorant. "It's in really great condition, and a few parts will be here next Friday – but that radiator is hard to source. I'm not giving up on it, but welding the thing may or may not work. If it freezes here, it might spring another leak…"

"This is Texas. It doesn't hardly freeze here."

"Got snow here last year," Holly shrugged and pointed at the truck. "You've got three leads that are crimped and repaired with butt connectors – I'd recommend replacing them. I mean, the connectors will hold, but if you are…"

"Can you do it?" Cade asked bluntly, not stepping foot inside the shop but asking from a distance. He stood there with his arms crossed over his chest as the fire engine waited behind him in the background. She could see two faces practically hanging outside of the windows, trying to get the latest scoop.

"Yeah. I can fix those easily."

"Go ahead."

"You don't want to know the price? I'm not doing it for free, you know. I've got your estimate on the pulley and belt on the counter and…"

"Go ahead, Beary. I'm in no rush, so long as it's done right," he said bluntly and started to turn back to the truck, but something in her broke free.

"My name is Holly – not Beary."

Cade paused in his step, looking back at her and nodded simply before walking off. She stared at him from her seat, knowing she had to look atrocious. The dirt from the old coupe, the sweat, the grime, all of it left her filthy beyond reason each night, and her shower suffered for it. She had a showerhead with one of those spray wands simply so she could continue to rinse the grime off the shower floor when she was done, making cleaning up a breeze.

She watched him climb into the truck. He lifted a hand in a slight acknowledgment – and she did the same. Almost like a weird truce was building between them. Yeah, she imagined how leery he was being around her if he thought she had a crush, and she did. She wasn't exactly feminine, and the stuff she'd bought had remained unopened.

Holly was scared.

Intimidated.

She'd always hidden behind her coveralls, a baseball cap, or wore her hair in a ponytail to keep it off her neck, but the idea of dressing like a woman meant exposing herself to scrutiny, whereas the town really didn't ‘see' her now. No, she was able to fade into the background and treated like ‘one of the guys' – but she didn't want to be one of them.

In her dreams, she always wished that some valiant knight would swoop in and take her off to his castle. Maybe he would be so lovestruck that he would admit his feelings, asking her to be his wife, before planting True Love's First Kiss. Aurora, Snow White, and Cinderella were all down-on-their-luck princesses that their beloved prince found or discovered unexpectedly, so why couldn't that be her?

Maybe she wasn't walking barefoot in the forest toward her caretaker's cottage, singing to forest animals. So what that she wasn't cleaning the ashes from the fireplace in rags – at least she didn't talk to rodents. If a woman with narcolepsy could manage to have Happily-Ever-After slap her in the face… couldn't Holly do the same?

Sighing heavily, Holly heard a ding. She reached for her cell phone in her pocket, withdrew it… and froze. Her heart clenched as she saw his text message and took it for what it was – a polite gesture of friendship.

Thanks for the Gatorade.

"Baby steps are still steps," she whispered, texting him back. "I might be barefoot in a sticker patch surrounded by rattlers… but this is definitely a step forward, so eat your heart out, Cinderella."

You are welcome.