Chapter 31
Mia set her coffee cup down and opened the pantry, exhaling. Damn. The ingredients she needed for the rosemary sea salt crackers were short.
Her chest tightened, just a little. She’d planned to send a small bag home with the potential clients. Nothing fancy. Just something warm and simple that said this is what I do.
She glanced at her watch. Just under an hour. Tight but doable. Thankfully, it was still early in the morning. A new client was coming to see the event barn. Things were looking up again.
She grabbed her keys and slid into the van. The fuel gauge hovered just above half. Good. One less thing to worry about. No stops. No room for delays.
The roads were quiet, with only a few cars out, and she was making good time. Her mind was busy planning a possible menu for the event. Rustic but elevated. Comfort food. The kind of thing that made people feel taken care of.
She turned onto the country road leading to town. No traffic. Just a line of cows staring at her as she passed.
The engine sputtered. Once. Then again.
Her stomach dipped. The battery.
“Come on,” she murmured, easing her foot off the gas. “Just get me to town. Ten minutes. I’ll baby you the whole way.”
Her hands tightened on the wheel, listening, feeling every vibration. She needed it to hold together just a little longer.
The engine coughed once more. Then everything went quiet.
The van lost power faster than she had expected. The steering wheel went heavy in her hands as the car drifted toward the edge of the road.
“No. No,” Mia said, pumping the brakes, trying to guide it back.
The tires slid over the gravel. The front bumper clipped a tree with a dull, jarring thud, solid enough to knock the breath from her lungs.
The van stopped. Silence rushed in.
Mia sat frozen, hands locked on the wheel, heart hammering against her ribs. She took a careful breath. Then another. Okay. I’m okay.
She laughed once. “Of course,” she whispered. Of course, it hit a tree.
Her phone was already in her hand when the familiar thought hit her again. I asked Roy to get the battery checked. She’d trusted it was done. Wrong again.
She thought about who to call. It was too early to call a garage. She didn’t have towing insurance. No easy fix.
Caleb.
Maybe he could help or at least give her a ride back. She tapped his name. The call rang once. Twice.
The phone flickered, battery flashing red, before going black.
“Seriously?” she muttered.
She dug the small portable charger out of her purse, plugged it into her phone and set it on the console. Then she stared through the windshield at the wall of trees. In the sunlight, they should’ve been beautiful. Instead, they felt like they were closing in on her.
She pressed her forehead to the steering wheel and let out a frustrated scream. It wasn’t just the van. Or the timing. It had been a string of things lately. One problem after another. She just couldn’t catch a break. Every step forward was yanked back.
When the phone finally powered up, she didn’t hesitate.
She called him again.
“Mia?” Caleb’s voice was tight. “I just missed a call. Where are you? Is everything okay?”
“I’m okay,” she said, though her hands still shook. “The van died. I hit a tree. I’m stuck on the county road into town.”
“Are you somewhere safe?”
She looked around. No houses. No traffic. Just trees and sunlight. “As safe as I can be, I guess.”
“Stay put,” he said. “Don’t move. Lock the doors. I’m on my way.”
Mia locked the doors and leaned back, reflecting on recent events. There had been highs and lows lately, but somehow, the lows were winning.
She was lost in depressing thoughts until she heard the low hum of an engine. Relief flickered. Caleb was here.
No, a sedan slowed as it approached the van. Her pulse kicked up.
The driver rolled down his window. Middle-aged. Baseball cap. Nothing immediately threatening.
“You okay there?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” she replied, keeping the door locked. “Help’s on the way.”
He studied her for a second longer than she liked. “Car trouble?”
“Ran out of gas,” she said. The lie slipped out. Easy. Safer.
He nodded as if he didn’t quite believe her. “Happens out here.” He hesitated and then gave a small shrug. “Good luck.”
He pulled back onto the road and drove off.
Mia watched the taillights disappear as the sound of his engine faded and the quiet crept back in.
Mia didn’t relax until he was gone.
Minutes later, a familiar truck came into view, moving fast. It slowed when it reached her.
Caleb was out of the cab before the engine fully stopped.
“Mia.” He crossed to her door quickly, scanning her as she got out and then the van. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m okay,” she replied. “Just shaken.”
He crouched, checked the front bumper, then straightened. “What happened?”
“The van just died. The dash lights came on, but the engine won’t turn over. I think it’s the battery.”
Caleb frowned. He popped the hood, leaned in. After a moment, he glanced back at her. “Turn the key.”
She did. The engine didn’t respond.
“That’s not a battery issue,” he said. “No click. No struggle.”
Her stomach dropped. “It’s not?”
He closed the hood and walked back to the driver’s side, peering in. “Gauge said half a tank.”
Caleb opened the gas cap and paused. He leaned in, then straightened slowly.
“Mia,” he said carefully, “I don’t smell gas. Either the gauge is lying, or there’s nothing in the tank.”
“That’s not possible,” she said immediately. “I checked the gauge before I left. It was over half full.”
“Could be a bad gauge,” he said calmly. “Or a slow leak. Either way, you’re not driving this anywhere right now.”
Relief and frustration tangled in her chest. “So … bad luck,” she said, forcing a small smile.
“Yeah. Bad luck.”
He moved to the front again, crouched, then stood. “Headlight’s cracked, but it’s not dangerous. We’ll deal with it later. Come on,” he said, already opening his truck door. “We’ll get gas, then come back for the van.”
“Okay,” she said softly.
As she climbed into his truck, she told herself the same thing that she’d been repeating all morning.
It’s just bad luck.
Even if it didn’t feel that way.
Caleb hadn’t gone more than half a mile before Mia reached for her phone.
“I have to call a potential client,” she said. The phone rang twice before the woman answered.
“Hi, this is Mia Whitmore,” she said. “I’m so sorry to do this last-minute, but I’ve had a car issue and am running behind. I didn’t want you to waste the trip.”
There was a pause.
“Oh,” the woman said. Polite, yet distant. “That’s unfortunate.”
Mia swallowed hard. “If you’d like to reschedule, I’d be happy to …”
“I think we’ll hold off for now,” the woman replied. “Things feel a little … up in the air. Thank you for calling.”
The line went dead.
Mia stared at her phone.
“I’m sorry,” Caleb said quietly.
“It’s fine,” she lied. “They weren’t committed anyway.”
But she knew how this worked.
Hold off turned into “We heard things.” Up in the air became “unreliable.”
She told herself it was just bad luck. She wasn’t sure she believed it anymore.