Chapter 6
6
Please start!
Fighting back another wave of panic, Emma Blair twisted the key in the ignition again.
Click. Click. Click.
The same dead sound she’d gotten on every previous try.
And it wasn’t a battery issue. The one under the hood was only two months old.
Now what?
Clamping her fingers around the steering wheel, she inhaled a shaky breath and rested her forehead against her knuckles as rain continued to ping against the roof of the faithful Sentra that had never given her a lick of trouble, even after the odometer slipped into the six-digit range last spring.
Why, all of a sudden, had it decided to die? And why here?
But what did it matter? With the Pacific Ocean a block away, she was as far west of Nebraska as she could get anyway.
Besides, if a person had to get stuck, where better than a town with the name of Hope Harbor?
Her pay-by-the-minute flip phone began to ring, and she snatched it up from the seat beside her. Only two people had this number, and her so-called best friend was now blocked. Meaning the incoming call was one she didn’t want to miss.
She put the phone to her ear. “Hey, Justin. You okay?”
“I’m hanging in.” It was the same response her brother always gave. “Where are you today?”
“A small town on the Oregon coast.” She flicked a look at the storefront beside her. “Outside a coffee shop.”
“Wish I was with you.”
“Me too.” Leaving him behind had almost killed her, but distance was the best way to remove herself from that toxic environment and find a fresh start. “And you will be, as soon as I can make it happen. How’s everything back there?”
“Same old, same old.”
The very reason she’d left three weeks ago, the day she’d turned eighteen and reached legal age.
But at sixteen, Justin didn’t have that option.
“It’ll be better once you’re with me.”
“I know, but ... what if there’s a glitch?” A thread of fear and despair wove through his voice.
“There won’t be.” She put as much confidence into her response as she could muster. “Bill will be glad to have an excuse to ditch his responsibility to you.”
A harsh judgment, perhaps, but she and Justin both knew it was true.
“I miss you, Em.”
She watched a drop of rain trail down her windshield, pressure building behind her eyes. “I’m sorry, Justin. I just ... I had to get out of there.”
“I know it’s bad here.”
Yes, it was. For both of them, in different ways.
“I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
“Yeah. Listen ... you good on cash? The money you saved working at the bakery won’t last forever.”
“No worries for now.” Unless her car issue was serious and put a major dent in her savings.
“If you run low, I could ask for more hours with the lawn company. Grass cutting doesn’t pay a ton, but it’s a steady income. And I don’t spend much.”
She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “I’ll be fine as soon as I land somewhere.”
No way was she mentioning her dead car. She’d rather skip meals and sleep in the Sentra—as she’d been doing for most of the past week to conserve cash—than take any of Justin’s hard-earned nest egg. She’d only splurged one night on a bare-bones motel so she could shower and clock a decent night’s sleep.
“I’m sorry Denise let you down, Em.”
That made two of them.
Who knew her high school bestie would find a hot new boyfriend and turn out to be the type to renege on a promise to provide temporary housing? By text, no less, and with barely twenty-four hours’ notice.
“Yeah. Me too.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“Keep searching for a place to drop anchor.” Which would have to be soon. She couldn’t live in her car forever.
“I guess it’ll be a while before you can send for me, huh?”
“The curve Denise threw me is nothing more than a temporary setback, Justin. I’m going to pick a town soon and get a job.” Because until she secured steady employment and a place to live, she couldn’t petition for guardianship. “Once I’m settled, Bill will be happy to turn you over to me, and the court will rubber-stamp my application. Until then, we’ll talk every day.”
“Okay. Love you, Em.”
Emma swiped the back of her hand under her nose. “Love you too.”
When the line went dead, she slowly lowered the cell to her lap as the steady rain and fog shrouded her car in a gray mist, her earlier question replaying in her mind.
Now what?
Sending a plea heavenward for a miracle, she twisted the key again.
Click. Click. Click.
Apparently no miracle was in store for her today. Her Sentra wasn’t going anywhere.
At least she wasn’t in the middle of nowhere. If she hadn’t pulled over here to wait out the rain, the car could have died at a highway rest stop. In a town, there ought to be help close by.
Maybe someone in that coffee shop could point her in the right direction.
It was worth asking.
Because sitting here wasn’t going to fix anything.
And while froufrou coffee drinks weren’t in her budget, she could splurge on a small, plain java in exchange for a recommendation for an honest, reliable mechanic.
“Small coffee for Emma.” As Bren set the lidded disposable cup on the pickup counter, the young woman who’d dashed in from the rain minutes before closing time moved forward to claim it.
“Thank you.” After offering a timid smile, the petite brunette retreated to one of the tables by the fireplace in the almost-deserted shop.
“I think it’s a wrap for the day, Bren.” Zach stopped beside her. “I doubt many people are wandering around in this weather. It should be safe to start shutting down.”
“Works for me.” She tipped her head toward the young woman who’d had a rather lengthy exchange with Zach while he took her order at the other end of the counter. “It looked like our last customer of the day was telling you her life story.”
“Not quite. But she did tell me about her car. It died out in front. She asked for a mechanic recommendation.”
“I assume you referred her to Marv?”
He hitched up one side of his mouth. “Who else? He’s the only game in town.”
“Also a great mechanic. He patches up my Kia on a regular basis.”
“The man does have a magic touch with engines.” He motioned behind him. “I’ll handle equipment cleanup if you want to work on the pastry case.”
“You got it.”
As he moved off, Bren wiped down the counter and gave the young woman another surreptitious scan.
She was using a burner-type flip phone, voice pitched low, features pinched. Calling Marv, no doubt.
Did she have sufficient funds to cover a car repair?
Hard to tell by her appearance. The jeans and long-sleeved tee she wore were low-key and nondescript, but that didn’t mean anything. It could be a designer outfit that had cost a fortune, for all she knew. Unless you lived within a reasonable distance of wealthy zip codes, thrift-shop bargain hunting wasn’t conducive to becoming a fashionista—if one was so inclined.
Lucky she wasn’t, given her budget.
Heaving a sigh that carried across the shop, the brunette set the phone on the table and hunkered down over her coffee, hands wrapped around the cup, posture slumped. Like she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.
And was that sudden glisten on her cheek a tear trailing down?
Whatever burden she was carrying, it was too heavy for someone who couldn’t be much past seventeen or eighteen.
Bren wadded the rag in her fist, stomach clenching as a sense of déjà vu swept over her.
Finding yourself alone, without a friend in the world, was a bad place to be.
If this young woman was in trouble, did she have anyone to lend a helping hand?
Moving on autopilot, Bren began to empty the pastry case, wrapping the items that could be saved until tomorrow, setting aside those that couldn’t, as the third mandate on her birthday resolution list strobed across her mind.
Seek out opportunities to give back for all the blessings that have come your way in Hope Harbor.
Hmm.
Was there something she could do to help this young woman? Offer a friendly ear, perhaps? Let her know someone had noticed her and cared?
The other remaining customers in the shop, an older couple at a table by the window, rose, deposited their cups in the trash, and crossed to the door.
“Sorry to linger.” The man paused at the counter, his companion beside him. “We know you’re ready to close, but it’s hard to leave this pleasant ambiance behind. Especially in such gray, wet weather.”
Bren coaxed up the corners of her mouth. “No worries. We’ll be here awhile in cleanup mode. You don’t have to rush out.”
“Thanks, but we want to stop in at the bookstore.”
“Another great place to linger on a rainy day. You’ll love it there. The owner’s super nice.”
“That’s what we heard. Thanks again for the great coffee. It was better than any chain.” The man pushed through the door, opened his umbrella, and tucked the woman closer beside him as they exited into the drizzle.
When Bren angled back toward the remaining customer, the young woman’s gaze skittered away after a brief second of eye contact. Then she drained her cup, slid her phone back into her pocket, and pulled out her keys.
Unless someone intervened fast, she was going to walk out the door and disappear forever.
Pulse picking up, Bren plated a cranberry scone and a piece of shortbread from Bayview Lavender Farm Tearoom. After grabbing a fork, she circled the counter and called up her friendliest smile as she approached the woman.
“Hi. My boss tells me you’re having car problems. I thought a sweet treat might cheer you up a little.”
The woman examined the plate, the longing in her expression at odds with her stiff, wary posture. “Um ... thank you, but I was just getting ready to leave.”
“Did you call Marv?”
“Yes. I left a message.”
“If he’s out helping another stranded motorist, you could have a wait. You’re welcome to stay here until he arrives.”
“Aren’t you closing?”
“Yes, but I’ll be here for another hour doing cleanup. You may as well wait inside by the fire. It would be more comfortable than sitting in your car.”
The woman chewed on her lower lip. “Are you sure that wouldn’t be an inconvenience?”
“Not at all.”
“And your boss won’t mind?”
“No.” But she’d brief Zach on the situation as soon as this conversation was over. “In fact, let me get you a refill. We’re about to clean out the coffee machines.”
“I, uh, only paid for one cup.”
“We’re going to throw it out if you don’t drink it. Same rule with pastries. Once they’re past their expiration, out they go.” Which applied to the scone on the plate she set in front of the woman, if not the shortbread. But she’d pay for that herself.
“In that case, thank you.” The woman picked up the empty cup and held it out.
“I’ll be back in a sec.” Bren took it and returned to the prep area.
As she filled it again, Zach joined her.
“What gives with our dallying customer?”
“She isn’t dallying. I invited her to stay while we clean up.” She snapped on a new lid and turned to him. “I get sad vibes from her, Zach. I didn’t want to send her out into the rain to wait for Marv alone in her car. And I think she may be hungry. I gave her a couple of treats from the case. I’ll pay for the shortbread. It wasn’t out-of-date yet.”
“Nope. It’s on the house. If you think she needs help and TLC, I trust your intuition. The Perfect Blend can afford an occasional gratis pastry or two for a worthy cause.”
Typical Zach.
“Thanks. I’ll be happy to finish the cleanup if you want to take off. Marv may not get here for an hour or two, and I don’t mind hanging around and locking up.”
“Are you sure? It would help if I could cut out and get a jump on dinner. We invited my aunt and her husband over tonight, and Katherine is slammed with a special truffle order for a wedding up at Edgecliff. She’ll be racing to get home in time to eat with us as it is.”
“She did seem a bit frazzled when I went outside for my break earlier. I saw her hustling into Chocolate Harbor carrying two shopping bags.”
Zach glanced in the direction of his wife’s gourmet chocolate business next door. “She was running short on favor boxes and had to dash up to a wholesale place in Coos Bay to augment her supply. If you’re certain you don’t mind shutting down here, I’ll pop in and see if there’s anything I can do to help her before I head home.”
“I’ve got this. If nothing else, you can give her a hug for encouragement.”
He grinned. “Or a little more.”
Nice to find a guy who truly loved and appreciated his wife. A rarity, in her experience, but proof that not all men were selfish and domineering.
“Go.” She waved him toward the door. “I’ll take care of The Perfect Blend.”
He ditched his apron, stowed it beneath the counter, and nodded toward the woman at the table. “If you want to send her on her way with a bag of stuff from the case, feel free.”
Yep. Definitely a good guy.
“Thanks.”
As Zach pushed through the front door, Bren checked on the woman. She’d finished the shortbread and had dived into the scone.
No question about it. A goody bag was going with her.
But if she was hungry ... if she was as alone as she seemed ... a couple of sweet treats wouldn’t be enough.
Bren set the cup down, slid another piece of shortbread into a bag, then carried both items across the store.
Once again she used her friendliest smile as she put them on the table. “My boss agrees that you can stay until you deal with your car. Marv’s a great mechanic, by the way. Also fair and reliable. He’ll fix you up.” She adjusted the strap on her apron and waved a hand toward the counter. “My boss left for the day, so I have more cleanup than usual. Why don’t you relax and enjoy the fire?”
A faint shimmer appeared in the woman’s irises. “Thank you.”
“No problem. Are you staying in town?”
“Um ... I don’t know. It depends on what happens with my car.”
In other words, she didn’t have firm sleeping arrangements for tonight.
“I can recommend the Gull Motel. It’s not the Ritz, but it’s clean and homey. I stayed there when I first came here, until I found a place to rent.”
“Do you, uh, know what they charge?”
Suspicion confirmed. Money was an issue.
“No, but I can find their number for you.” She pulled out her cell and googled the motel while the woman withdrew a slip of paper and a pen from her purse.
She jotted down the information while Bren recited it. “I’ll give them a call.”
“If you need anything else while I’m cleaning up, let me know. I’m Bren.”
After a slight hesitation, the woman responded, “I’m Emma.”
“Welcome to Hope Harbor, Emma. Enjoy the sweets.”
Leaving her to eat in peace, Bren returned to the counter and shifted into cleanup mode, casting occasional peeks at the young woman.
She scarfed down her food, then made one very brief phone call, likely to the motel. But her wallet remained in her purse. So unless she had her credit card data memorized, she didn’t book a room.
Meaning the price must be too high, even though it was the cheapest place in town.
If she couldn’t afford that, where was she going to sleep if she was stuck here while her car was being repaired?
Though that question plagued Bren as she tidied up the shop, no satisfactory answer had come to mind by the time Emma’s phone finally rang.
After a brief conversation with Marv, she tucked her phone into her purse, gathered up the remnants of her snack, and stood.
Bren hung up her apron, retrieved her own purse, and circled around the counter. “Is Marv en route?”
“Yes. He said he’d be here within ten minutes.” Emma surveyed the rainy scene outside the plate glass window. “If you’re ready to lock up, I can wait for him in my car.”
“It’s drier in here. I can stay a few more minutes.” Keeping her tone conversational, she pulled out her keys. “Any luck at the Gull? They can be busy during the tourist season.”
“Um ... they had a room, but I ... I didn’t budget for too many nights in hotels. And until I know what’s wrong with my car, well...” She shrugged. “Is there, like, a youth hostel anywhere nearby?”
Money must be super tight.
And this young woman looked like she needed more TLC than a bare-bones youth hostel would provide.
“Not in Hope Harbor. You’d have to travel farther afield to find one.”
Seek out opportunities to give back for all the blessings that have come your way in Hope Harbor.
Bren tightened her grip on her keys as the birthday pledge once again looped through her mind.
A worthy goal, but what more could she do for this young woman? Emma didn’t come across as the type who would take a handout.
Maybe Helping Hands could find her a place to spend the night.
Or you could invite her to stay with you.
As that crazy notion ricocheted through her mind, Bren’s breath hitched.
What?
Invite a stranger to share her living space?
No way.
Not happening.
She didn’t know a thing about this woman. Connecting her with assistance through Helping Hands would be more prudent.
“Um ... is there a church in town?” Emma’s cheeks flushed, a strong indication she was embarrassed by her financial straits. “Sometimes they have ... resources.”
“Yes. And we also have an organization that may be able to help if you’re having cash flow issues.”
In either case, though, it was possible all they’d be able to provide for her was a ride to the homeless shelter in Coos Bay, where her physical needs would be taken care of for the night.
But this young woman needed more than that. Bren could feel it in her gut.
“If you could give me a number to call for either of those, I’d—”
“Wait.” Pulse hammering, she took a deep breath. This could be a huge mistake—but sometimes you had to follow your heart. “I realize we’re strangers, so this may sound kind of off the wall. But I’ve been in my share of tough spots too. So as long as the owner of my quarters approves, you’re welcome to use the sleeper sofa in the living room until Marv fixes your car.” She smiled again. “And in terms of churches, I’d be happy to give you my pastor’s number if you want to verify that I’m not a serial killer.”
The other woman stared at her as a mixture of shock, disbelief, surprise, trepidation, and a faint hint of hope suffused her face.
She was tempted to accept. That much was clear.
The question was, would she?