9. Chapter Nine
Chapter Nine
T his wasn't good.
Not good at all.
Owen expected there was a lot of body work that would need to be done. But to be honest, it was the damage beneath the hood that worried him the most.
Her car didn't have to look good to run in the race.
Although, there was an award for the nicest-looking car.
There were some other silly awards such as the loudest car and the car with the most authentic parts.
He didn't even want to imagine how they were going to prove which car had the most original parts.
He wondered how much of the damage was due to him hitting her. Of course, all of the damage to the back corner panel was his fault. But as his gaze skimmed over the bent tie rod and the smashed brackets, it would be impossible to assign blame.
"Owen is that you?"
He rolled out from under the car. He caught sight of his parents’ neighbor, Sally Greene, and her little girl. He tried to remember the little girl's name, but it wouldn't come to him. "Hi."
Sally stepped farther into the garage. Her gaze moved to the car. "Wow. Is that your car?”
“No. It belongs to another driver.”
“I hope they didn’t get hurt."
“Me too. I haven't heard anything since they took her to the hospital." Anxious to get back to his inspection, he said, "If you're looking for my mother, I think she's in the house."
"Actually, I stopped over to speak to you."
"Me?" He had no idea what they had to talk about. "What can I do for you?"
"Nothing. I just wanted to say thank you."
He was more confused now than he was before. "I don't understand."
Sally smiled. "Sorry. I didn't mean to confuse you.
I just heard that you signed up to take part in the bachelor auction next weekend.
And as a parent, I am thankful to everyone who steps up to help the pediatric unit.
The hope is that we'll never need it, but it's a huge comfort to know that it'll be there if the need arises. "
He opened his mouth to tell her he hadn't agreed to be in the auction, but what came out of his mouth was quite different. "I don't know if the auction is going to generate that much money."
Sally let out a small laugh before she picked up her daughter and rested her on her hip. "From what I hear, there are a lot of single young women lining up to bid on you."
He knew her words were meant to alleviate his worries, but they actually did the opposite. His stomach took a nauseous lurch. He swallowed hard. The last thing he wanted was to have someone bid on him and expect a romantic evening. It wasn't going to happen.
"Well, we won't keep you. We just wanted to say thank you."
After the neighbor lady walked away, Owen realized it was too late to get out of this auction. It sounded like the whole island knew about his participation. He inwardly groaned.
With a firm knot in his gut, he grabbed the creeper, an old wooden board with four wheels. With a push off, he resumed his position under the car. With a trouble light in one hand, he surveyed the damage. It definitely didn’t look better from this angle.
He felt really bad for Maxine. None of this was her fault. He just wanted to help her.
"What are you doing?"
The angry tone had him rolling out from under the car, but not quite far enough. When he tried to sit up, he bumped his head on the car's undercarriage. Feeling like a total klutz, he reached for the rag in his pocket and wiped off his forehead before sliding out from beneath the car.
When he got to his feet, his gaze met hers. He noticed the flames of anger dancing in her blue eyes. Her lips were pressed into a firm line.
Oh no. This isn't good.
Using his foot, he slid the creeper back beneath the car so no one would trip over it. "Hey, Maxine." He sent her a smile, hoping to thaw her icy greeting. He caught sight of the sling over her left arm. "How are you doing?"
"What are you doing with my car?" Her brows drew together as her face creased with a deep frown.
"Nothing.” He followed her gaze to the car with the hood propped open. "I, uh...wanted to take a look and see how extensive the damage is."
"You had no right." She moved past him and made her way to the front of the car.
He distinctly heard a gasp when she took in the extent of the damage. He opened his mouth to tell her it wasn't as bad as it looked, but wordlessly he closed his mouth. The truth was the damage was exactly as bad as it looked.
"I thought maybe I could help," he said. “I had nothing nefarious planned.”
Her gaze darted to him before returning to the engine compartment. He could see suspicion in her eyes. "Why would you want to do that? Aren’t we supposed to be competitors?”
Perhaps it was because he'd lived his whole life on Bluestar Island, but he wasn't used to a friendly gesture being met with immediate skepticism. It made him wonder what had happened in her life for her to react in such a manner.
He cleared his throat and tried again. "I was looking for a way to help get your car back on the road."
She was quiet for a moment as her gaze strayed back to the damage. When her gaze met his again, she said in a firm tone. "I don't need your help."
Her words hit him like a smack in the face. They stung. And yet, he didn't respond in kind.
She'd had a rough day—worse than most days by far. She'd come very close to being seriously injured...or worse. He didn't want to think about the worse. It would be enough to put even the kindest person in a bad mood.
"Maybe we should start over," he said. "How are you doing?"
She was quiet. In fact, she was quiet for so long he started to think she wasn't going to answer him.
"I have some bumps and bruises. Nothing major."
He nodded toward the sling. "What about your arm?"
She glanced down. "It's just a bruise."
He’d never heard of anyone wearing a sling for “just a bruise” before. Something told him there was more to the story than she was willing to tell him. Still, he was relieved to hear there weren't any serious injuries, but it didn't stop him from feeling guilty for playing a part in the accident.
"I guess this means you'll be leaving the island sooner than expected." He struggled to keep the disappointment from his voice, which surprised him. There was something about this woman that brought a dormant part of him back to life. He didn't want to examine this sensation too closely.
She leaned over the engine. "Why would you think that?"
"Uh... Because of the accident. And without the car to race, I just thought..." He stopped his rambling answer.
She lifted her head and stared directly at him. "Why won't I have a car to race?"
He was confused. "Well, unless you have a spare car stashed nearby, you won't have a car to enter in the race."
"I have a car right here." Her eyes challenged him.
Surely she wasn't serious. His gaze moved to the car. This was far more than cosmetic damage. "There's no way it can be repaired in time for the race. And there aren't any mechanics on the island."
Maybe she'd bumped her head in the accident and that was why she wasn't making any sense right now. He started to wonder if she should even be there. "Do you need to sit down?"
Her eyes widened in surprise. "Why would I need to sit down?"
What was he supposed to say to that? He decided it was probably best if he kept his mouth closed.
She continued to look at the car. He wanted to ask what she was thinking, but considering most everything he'd said up until this point had set her off, he continued his moment of silence.
She pointed to the creeper. "Do you mind?"
He was surprised that she would want to crawl under the car. "No. Go ahead."
The more time he spent with her, the more intrigued he was by her. He stepped over to pull it out for her.
As she got situated on the creeper, he said, "I had a chance to look over it before you got here. It's going to need a lot of body work, the suspension needs to be repaired, and there’s more work under the hood, but I don't think it's totaled."
She was under the car for a bit, which surprised him. He wondered if she knew what she was looking at. He resumed his quiet mode, letting her take it in on her own terms.
At last, she slid out from under the car and got to her feet. "I would concur. It can be repaired."
"You know how to work on cars?" He had to admit that he'd never met a woman who liked to work under the hood of a car.
"You might say that." She hesitated. Then her gaze met his. "I own my own garage."
That was the very last thing he expected her to say. "You're a mechanic?"
Apparently he'd failed to keep the shock from showing on his face because she smiled at him. "Don't look so appalled. It's not like I run a brothel."
He swallowed hard. "Sorry. I've just never met a woman who knows how to work on engines."
"I also know how to do body work."
If she meant to shock him again, it didn't work. He'd already come to realize that there was far more to this woman than he'd originally thought. In fact, he wouldn't be surprised now to find that she was capable of anything. His respect for her continued to grow.
"That's good to know," he said. "Looks like your car is going to need it. And so is mine."
She turned around, and her eyes widened. “Your car was damaged too?”
He nodded. "I was behind you. I tried to get out of the way, but it all happened so fast."
She looked at him, and the anger was gone from her eyes. "I remember now. After I wrecked, there was another hit. It was you?” When he nodded, she said, "That wasn't your fault. It was the goat."
Owen smiled and nodded. "His name is Dasher. He lives on a farm just south of town. He's known to escape and make his way into town."
"Is he okay? I just couldn't stand the thought of hurting him." Her gaze searched his.
"As far as I know, he's just fine. Although, his owner wasn't very happy with him. But your car didn't touch him."
"Thank goodness. I can handle a wrecked car, but if I had hurt someone's pet, I would have been crushed."
"Nope. All is good. Well, except for your car." He looked at the smashed fender. "What will you do with it? Take it home and work on it?"
She shook her head. "I'm not taking it home."
"Surely you aren't going to junk it. The damage isn't that bad."
She shook her head again. "No. I'm going to get it ready for the race."
Surely, he hadn't heard her correctly. "You're still planning to race?"
She nodded. "I've come too far to back out now."
"But how will you get the replacement parts in time for the race?"
"I have contacts."
"They must be really good contacts." He eyed up the visible damage. "That's a lot of work."
She sighed. "It is. But I'm on vacation all week, so I have the time to work on it."
"But your arm." He stared at the sling.
"Luckily, I'm right-handed."
She made it sound so simple to fix her car. He might not be a mechanic, but he knew this would be a big job. "But still, working with one hand won't be easy."
"I'll make do." She said it like it wasn't her first time working one-handed. “It’s only bruised.”
He decided to let the subject of her injuries rest. Instead, he said, "Well, seeing as neither of us won the bet, how about I take you to lunch anyway?
We can talk about the car." Under the circumstances, he hadn't been planning to take her to lunch, but it was just past noon now, and he really didn't want their conversation to end.
After all, there wasn't any harm in getting to know her better.
She shook her head. "Thanks. But I can't. I already promised my aunt I would be home for lunch. She's probably wondering where I am. Any moment now, my phone is going to ring."
"You're staying with your aunt?"
Most of the entrants in the grand prix had friends or family here on Bluestar. There were only one or two racers that were complete outsiders. It gave the race a more intimate feel.
Maxine nodded. "She's been a constant in my life since... A long time."
He couldn't help wondering what she hadn't said. But he quelled his curiosity. Whatever it was, obviously, was deeply personal to her. "Your aunt was my seventh-grade teacher. She taught English, but I'm sure you knew that."
Maxine smiled back at him. "I think all of her students loved her. She still gets Christmas cards from those that moved away, and she says those that still live on the island stop by frequently."
He didn't know that other students visited her. He hadn’t visited her. Did that make him a bad person? He hoped not. However, he did make a point of speaking to Mrs. Walters any time he ran into her in public.
"Anyway, I should go." Maxine started toward the door of the garage and then turned back. "Will you be able to get the car back to the tent?"
He had the feeling the only acceptable answer would be yes , and so that was what he said.
As she walked away, he felt as though it was an opportunity slipping through his fingers. But he told himself it was for the best. He was not up for dating. Not even close.