Chapter 7 Secrets #2
He stood still for a moment.
She hadn’t sounded judgmental.
If anything, she had sounded concerned.
That somehow unsettled him even more.
By midmorning, the garage had settled into its usual rhythm. Engines rumbled in and out of the service bays while customers came and went with questions about harvest equipment, worn tires, and stubborn diesel engines.
Yet the conversations had changed.
More than once, someone casually mentioned Jax.
“Seen much of Harlan Ranch lately?”
“You keeping those ranch trucks running?”
“I hear Jax’s pickup practically knows the way here by itself.”
Every question was delivered with a laugh.
Every laugh carried a little too much curiosity.
Eli answered each one with patience.
“Business has been good.”
“The ranch has older equipment.”
“That’s all there is to it.”
Whether anyone believed him was another matter entirely.
Around lunchtime, Rosa appeared carrying sandwiches wrapped in wax paper.
“You’ve barely stopped all morning.”
“I’m not complaining.”
She placed lunch on the workbench before studying his face.
“But you’re thinking.”
“I usually am.”
“This isn’t about work.”
He sighed quietly.
“I think people are starting to notice.”
“I know they are.”
“I thought the fair would blow over.”
“So did I.”
Rosa looked toward the office windows overlooking Main Street.
“Red Hollow doesn’t have many secrets.”
“I’ve figured that out.”
She rested a hand on his shoulder.
“You can’t control what people choose to believe.”
“No.”
“But you can control what you give them to talk about.”
The advice lingered long after she returned upstairs.
He didn’t like it.
Mostly because she was right.
Late that afternoon, Jax’s familiar pickup rolled into the gravel lot.
Eli noticed it before the engine even stopped.
For a brief moment, he smiled.
Then he glanced toward Main Street.
An older couple stood outside the bakery.
Another man leaned against the gas pumps across the road.
None of them appeared interested in the garage.
Still, Eli suddenly felt as though every pair of eyes in town could see straight through the open bay doors.
Jax climbed out carrying a small paper bag.
“I brought breakfast.”
Eli raised an eyebrow.
“It’s four in the afternoon.”
“You said I owed you.”
“I did.”
“I never specified a time.”
He handed over the bag.
Warm cinnamon rolls.
Eli laughed.
“I’ll forgive your terrible timing.”
“I was hoping you would.”
They moved into the office, where the conversation came as easily as it always had.
Jax talked about repairing fences after the recent storm.
Eli shared a story about accidentally locking himself inside the garage overnight when he was seventeen.
They laughed more than once.
For a while, it almost felt as though the outside world had disappeared.
Until a customer walked through the door.
Mr. Benson stopped just inside the entrance, looking from Jax to Eli before smiling politely.
“Afternoon, boys.”
“Afternoon,” they answered together.
Mr. Benson chuckled.
“I seem to interrupt every time I stop by.”
“You aren’t interrupting anything,” Jax said.
“We were just talking.”
“So I can see.”
The older man set a lawnmower engine on the counter.
“It needs looking at whenever you’ve got time.”
“I’ll have it ready tomorrow.”
“No rush.”
Mr. Benson lingered for another second before leaving.
The office fell quiet.
Eli looked toward the window until the older man disappeared across the street.
“I think we’ve got a problem.”
Jax frowned.
“You think people are watching?”
“I know they are.”
He looked back at Jax.
“We’ve given them enough reasons.”
“I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“I know.”
“But gossip doesn’t need wrongdoing.”
Jax leaned against the counter.
“So what are you saying?”
“I’m saying...”
Eli searched for the right words.
“...we should be careful.”
The smile faded from Jax’s face.
“You want me to stop coming here.”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“I don’t want this town deciding who you are before you get the chance to.”
“They already think they know.”
“Exactly.”
Silence settled between them.
Jax finally nodded.
“I hate that you’re right.”
“I hate it too.”
Neither of them wanted distance.
Neither wanted to become another story whispered over coffee at the diner.
Yet both understood that pretending the gossip didn’t exist would only make matters worse.
Jax glanced at the office clock.
“I should head back.”
“I’ll walk you out.”
The evening air had begun cooling as they stepped outside.
The garage doors remained open, allowing the last rays of sunlight to spill across the concrete floor.
“You’ll still answer if I call?”
Eli smiled.
“If your truck breaks down.”
“What if it doesn’t?”
“Then you’ll have to think of a better excuse.”
Jax laughed softly.
“I’ll work on that.”
He climbed into the pickup and started the engine.
Before driving away, he rested his arm on the open window.
“Take care of yourself.”
“You too.”
The truck rolled slowly onto Main Street before disappearing around the corner.
Eli remained standing in the driveway longer than he intended.
He finally turned back toward the garage, unaware that someone had been watching from the opposite side of the street.
Hidden partly behind the newspaper office, an unseen figure lifted a camera.
The lens focused on the gravel parking lot.
On the fading tire tracks.
On the familiar Harlan pickup just moments before it disappeared.
The shutter clicked once.
Then again.
The photographer lowered the camera without revealing themselves and quietly slipped the film into an envelope with no return address.
By the following morning, an anonymous photograph of Jax Harlan’s truck parked outside Navarro Auto Repair would begin making its way through Red Hollow.
The whispers that had once been harmless curiosity were about to become something far more difficult to ignore.
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