Chapter 3: Micah

I’m reluctant to leave Robyn alone in the shop. She’s obviously stressed out, scared even. I text Chris.

Me: Robyn is settled for the night in my office.

Chris: Thanks for the update. Keep an eye out. I’ve got a bad feeling.

Me: What kind of bad feeling?

Chris: She’s scared. Maybe a runaway?

Me: Will do.

After setting the alarm and locking up the shop, I head out back to my cabin. It’s located about two hundred yards behind the shop, just inside the woods that make up the majority of my 20-acre property. I live in a small, one-room log cabin that my grandfather built with his own hands back in the 1930s. It’s nestled in the trees, half hidden from sight. It’s quiet and peaceful back here, just how I like it.

I let myself in and flip on a couple of lights so I can see what I’m doing when I stoke the wood stove for the night. It’s nearly 2 AM now, and I’m pretty wiped, so I head straight for the bathroom to get ready for bed. It looks like I’ll be lucky to manage four or five hours of sleep before I’m back at work. I definitely want to make sure I get in before the others do. I don’t want Robyn or my employees to be startled.

After stripping down to my boxer briefs, I climb into bed. Worn out after a long day, I expect to fall asleep as soon as my head hits my pillow. But I don’t. Twenty minutes later, I’m still staring at the wooden rafters overhead.

That girl. She’s stunning.

She’s tall for a girl, probably 5-8, with long, wavy auburn hair and the biggest blue eyes I’ve ever seen. She has a pretty, round face, her pale cheeks dotted with tiny freckles. And her mouth! She has a wide, pouty mouth that gives a man dreams.

The moment I first laid eyes on her, my heart stuttered and my lungs seized up. My skin drew tight as heat raced through me.

It’s just my luck that the most attractive girl I’ve ever laid eyes on is passing through my town. But I’m sure Bryce will become a distant speck in her rearview mirror the minute I get her car fixed.

Robyn with a y.

I roll over and try to get comfortable, but it’s hard to relax when I know she’s sleeping in my office just two hundred yards away. On my sofa. On a sofa I’ve slept on a hundred times before.

I just hope there’s nothing seriously wrong with her car, because the sooner she’s gone from here, the better it will be for my sanity.

* * *

When my alarm goes off at six-thirty, I haul ass out of bed, take a quick shower, dress, and head across the yard into the shop. I’m eager to check on Robyn. I also want to get in before Margie, my office manager, and Pete and Tony, mechanics who work for me. I want to avoid any unwelcome surprises.

I let myself in through the back door of the shop and turn off the alarm. Then I switch on the lights in the garage before heading to the office, which is still quiet and dark. The front office is Margie’s domain. She’s not in yet, but she will be any minute. Like me, she’s an early bird.

I turn on the lights before heading to the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee. Rule number one around this place… whoever gets in first puts on the coffee.

While the coffee pot’s doing its thing, I knock on my office door. “Robyn? It’s Micah. Are you awake?”

I hear the lock disengage, and then the door opens.

“Good morning,” she says, her voice groggy from sleep.

It looks like she slept in her clothes last night, but I don’t blame her. She probably felt a bit uncomfortable undressing in a strange place. Her hair is a mess, the long strands tangled around her shoulders. Obviously, she just rolled out of bed, and the thought makes my gut tighten.

I try not to stare, but it’s hard. The girl is gorgeous. “I’m sorry if I woke you. My employees will be arriving soon, and I didn’t want them to startle you.”

She shakes her head. “It’s okay. I need to be up.”

“Do you drink coffee?”

Her pretty blue eyes perk up at that. “Yes, please. I would kill for a cup.”

I chuckle. “Well, there’s no need for any killing. It’ll be ready soon.” As the words come out of my mouth, the front door opens. “That’s Margie, my office manager.” I nod toward the office. “When you’re ready, why don’t you come say hi?”

I leave Robyn to get herself ready and head out to update Margie on last night’s events.

Margie McMahon was my high school algebra teacher. She retired from teaching years ago, but she hated sitting around at home so she came to work for me. She’s 76 years old, with short silver hair and shrewd brown eyes. She keeps this place running like a well-oiled machine, pardon the pun. She says keeping a tight rein on the three of us beats trying to motivate teenagers to do their math homework.

I fill her in on Robyn’s situation and the fact that she spent the night in my office.

Margie’s eyes widen. “Really? Do I know her?”

“You do not,” I say. “She’s from out of town, just passing through.”

Right on cue, Robyn walks into the front room, her hair freshly combed and pulled back into a ponytail. It looks like she’s changed her clothes.

“Well, hello there, young lady,” Margie says as she beams at Robyn. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” She winks at me. “Isn’t that right, Micah?”

Robyn’s pale cheeks flush pink. “Hello.”

“Don’t mind Margie,” I say. “She has no filter.”

Margie smiles at Robyn. “Honey, at my age, there’s no need for a filter. I say what I mean, and I mean what I say.”

“Margie, this is Robyn, with a y,” I say. “Robyn, this is Margie, my former high school algebra teacher.” I point out the big front window. “That’s Robyn’s Civic out front. It died on her last night on the highway just north of town. I towed it here, and I’m going to take a look under the hood this morning and see what the problem is.”

“You’ve come to the right place, Robyn,” Margie says. “These boys can fix anything.”

“Hopefully it’s nothing serious,” I say. “The coffee should be ready soon. Help yourself.”

The front door opens and in walks Pete wearing dark blue coveralls that are permanently stained with automotive grease. He’s the youngest of the three mechanics. “Coffee,” he growls.

“Good morning to you, too, sunshine,” Margie says as she points to the kitchen. “It’s ready.”

Pete starts across the room, but when he notices Robyn, he stops dead in his tracks and does a double-take. “Hello!” His eyes widen. “Who do we have here?”

Before I can answer, Tony walks in behind him, his black hair still damp from a shower. “Good morning, everyone!” He spots Robyn immediately. “Whoa.”

They act like they’ve never seen a woman before. I refrain from rolling my eyes. “Guys, this is Robyn. That’s her car out in the lot. It died on her last night out on the highway. Robyn, this is Pete, and this is Tony. Both mechanics.”

“What’s wrong with her car?” Tony asks.

“Not sure yet. I’m about to find out.”

“I’ll take a look,” Pete says.

I’m not surprised he’d volunteer. Tony has a girlfriend, but Pete doesn’t. And not for lack of trying.

“You can start by helping me roll it into the garage.”

While he sits behind the wheel, with the car in neutral, I push it inside. Whatever’s wrong with it, I’m hoping it’s a quick repair. But there’s no telling with these older models. Her car is thirty years old. Hell, it’s two years older than I am.

Once I have the car in the garage, I head back into the office for coffee. Robyn is seated on the sofa in the front office sipping hers.

“Has Robyn had breakfast yet?” Margie asks me as she sits at her desk.

“She just woke up,” I point out. “There hasn’t been time for breakfast.”

“Where are your manners, Micah? You need to get that poor girl something to eat. The car can wait an hour. Take her to Jenny’s.”

“I’ll take her,” Pete offers, a hopeful expression on his face. He’s barely twenty, and I think he’s in love.

“That’s all right,” I say, feeling a bit protective of the girl, as if she’s my personal responsibility. “I’ll take her.”

Pete looks disappointed. “Really, I don’t mind.” He pats his flat belly. “I could use one of Jenny’s breakfast specials myself.”

“Pete, if you want to be useful, go check out her car. The sooner we get it fixed, the sooner she can be on her way. I’m sure she’s got someplace she needs to be.”

Pete frowns. “So soon?”

“Yes,” I say. “That soon.”

Robyn’s been watching the conversation with great interest. “I’ll just be a minute,” she says, pointing behind her at the bathroom.

“Take your time,” I tell her.

Once she’s out of sight, I level my gaze on Pete, who’s following her with his gaze. “Isn’t there something you should be doing?”

Muttering under his breath, he disappears through the door leading to the service area.

Margie snickers. “You can’t blame him, Micah. It’s not every day a pretty girl like that shows up out of nowhere. Of course he’s interested.”

“She’s just passing through, Margie. She’ll be gone before the end of the day.”

“That’s a shame if you ask me.” She turns in her seat to face her computer screen. “We could use a little more excitement around here.”

I head for the front door. “Tell Robyn I’ll be waiting for her outside in my truck.”

I climb up into the cab of my black Ford 350 and start the engine. Five minutes later, when Robyn comes outside, she glances around the front lot, looking for me. She waves when she spots me and heads my way.

It’s only two miles to downtown Bryce, all four blocks of it. Jenny’s Diner is right in the middle of town, sandwiched between my sister Ruth’s tavern on the left and Maggie Emerson’s grocery store on the right. Ruth, Jenny, and Maggie are thick as thieves. Always have been.

This early on a Monday morning, traffic is light.

I luck out and find a parking spot right in front of the diner. We hop out of the truck and head inside, and I open the door for Robyn. As the bell overhead announces our arrival, everyone in the dining room turns to look at us. It’s a little after seven-thirty now, and the breakfast crowd is in full swing.

“Micah! What a pleasant surprise!” Jenny Lopez, owner of this fine establishment, rushes forward.

Jenny and I went to school together, along with Chris Nelson, the sheriff. The three of us were inseparable all throughout our school years. We’re still good friends.

Jenny’s all smiles as she gives Robyn the once-over. “Who’s your friend?” she asks, curiosity sparking in her dark brown eyes.

“Jenny, this is Robyn. With a y . Robyn, this is Jenny. She owns the diner.”

Robyn grins. “Yeah, I figured that. The name out front gives it away.”

Jenny’s smile brightens. “Ooh, I like her already.” She winks at me. Then, to Robyn, she says, “It’s nice to meet you, Robyn. Come right in.” Jenny directs us to a table for two near the front windows. “Have a seat.” She sets two menus on the table before stepping away to grab a coffee pot. “Coffee?” she asks when she returns.

“Yes, please,” Robyn says.

She doesn’t even bother to ask me.

Jenny turns over the mugs in front of us and pours the coffee.

I reach for my cup and take a sip. “Thanks, Jenny. I’ll have the breakfast special with links and toast.”

Jenny nods, not bothering to write anything down. I’ve been eating the same thing here for breakfast for years. She turns to Robyn. “And for you, sweetie?”

Robyn’s eyes flash to me for a moment, then back to Jenny. “Just coffee, thanks.”

Jenny frowns. “You sure you don’t want anything to eat?”

“I’m sure,” she says.

“You need to eat something,” I say to Robyn.

She shakes her head. “I’m fine, really.”

I know she hasn’t eaten anything yet today. I also notice she’s surreptitiously eyeing the menu. “Do you have any food allergies?” I ask her.

Robyn looks at me quizzically. “No. Why?”

“Are you on any special diet? Like, are you a vegetarian or a vegan?”

She chuckles. “No. Why?”

I glance at Jenny. “She’ll have the breakfast special, too.”

Robyn shakes her head adamantly. “No. I—”

“You need to eat something,” I say.

Robyn sighs, her shoulders dropping. “Fine. I’ll have some toast, then.” She nods to Jenny. “With butter, please. And strawberry jam, if you have it.”

When Jenny turns her gaze to me, I repeat, “ Two breakfast specials.”

“Don’t waste your breath arguing with him, hon,” Jenny tells Robyn. “He’s as stubborn as a mule. Now, how do you like your eggs?”

Robyn scowls at me. “Scrambled,” she bites out.

“Bacon or sausage?” Jenny asks her.

“Bacon.”

“Toast or pancakes?”

Robyn glances up at Jenny, her expression instantly transformed. “Did you say pancakes?”

Jenny nods. “With real maple syrup.”

“I’ll have the pancakes.” Robyn’s tone softens. “Thank you.”

Jenny leaves to put in our order.

Robyn’s expression tightens as she crosses her arms over her chest. “You don’t need to order for me.”

“Fine. Then stop pretending you’re not hungry, when I know you are. And don’t take it out on Jenny.” I take a sip of my coffee. “When was the last time you had a decent meal?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I only have sixty dollars to my name. ”

“Don’t sweat it. Breakfast is on me. I can spare eight bucks.”

“You don’t get it. I don’t have enough money for the tow last night, let alone for any repairs. I—”

“It’s okay. We’ll work something out.”

Her eyes narrow on me. “And just what does that mean?”

I sigh. I’m trying to be nice here, but all I’m doing is pissing her off. That was never my intention. “It means we’ll work something out.”

“Sure we will.” Her voice hardens. “Where I come from, nobody does anything for free. There’s a price for everything, and there are some prices I refuse to pay.” She leans back in her seat with a huff.

I finally catch her meaning and any frustration I might have felt vanishes. “Are you implying that I would try to take advantage of you?”

She raises an eyebrow as if to say duh .

“Well, you’re wrong,” I say. “Dead wrong.”

We both sit there for a few long minutes not looking at each other. She’s annoyed at me for making her order food, and now I’m aggravated because she thinks I would ever take advantage of her. Before I can figure out how to resolve our impasse, Jenny returns with our food.

She sets our plates in front of us. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Thanks,” we say in unison.

Robyn and I eat in silence, still avoiding eye contact. But my irritation with her evaporates when I notice how she’s wolfing down her food—first the eggs, then the bacon and hash browns. She saves the pancakes for last, slathering them with butter and warm maple syrup. When she takes her first bite, she closes her eyes as if she’s relishing the taste.

Chris is right to be concerned. She’s not only broke, she’s hungry . The realization makes my chest ache.

Robyn with a y… what’s your story?