Page 5 of Discovering Daisy

“Pretty city,” he said.

“It wasn’t your accent that gave you away, though,” she continued. “It was your name. I’ve never heard it before. But those scary men sure had. They turned white when they realized who you were! Why is that?”

It took him a few moments to answer. Finally, he said, “Oh, I reckon I’m known around these parts. I spent some time overseas. And this is a small community. Stuff like that, well…”

“You’re a hero,” she said.

She glanced at him to see he was keeping his eyes on the road and was clearly uncomfortable with that description. He offered a half shrug but didn’t take his hands off the steering wheel.

“You know how stuff like that goes,” he said. “Gets embellished and all that. Folks around here are patriotic. Any small-town boy who joins the military gets a lot of attention. No big deal.”

He didn’t offer any further explanation. She didn’t press for one, either.

Daisy found herself disappointed when they pulled into the parking lot of the mechanic’s shop. She didn’t want her time with Wyatt to end. Just riding next to him in the cab of that pickup had her feeling safe.

Surely those scary guys wouldn’t follow them here. They weren’t just hanging back, waiting for him to drop her off. Right?

She dismissed the notion as quickly as it had come. They’d been scared of Wyatt. They wouldn’t press their luck.

The garage doors were raised and a man in oil-spotted coveralls smiled and waved as he stepped out and waited forWyatt and Daisy to exit the truck. Once they were out, he said, “Howdy, Wyatt. What can I do for y’all?”

Hearing the tow truck pulling in behind them, Wyatt jerked his head toward it and said, “This young lady has a shredded tire. Spare had a puncture in it, too.”

“I’ll have a look-see when they get ‘er down,” the mechanic said. “In the meantime, y’all are welcome to wait in the office there.”

“Thanks,” Wyatt said before escorting Daisy toward the office attached to the garage. They were halfway there when he stopped and looked back toward the car. “Do you want to get your stuffie out?”

She blushed and shook her head, stifling a giggle.

She loved how he was talking to her. It was just like a Daddy would. She combatted a sigh.

If only…

Inside, the air conditioning felt nice. It was October, but in Georgia, that didn’t mean much. It was still a degree or two over eighty without a cloud in the sky.

“You want a Coke?” Wyatt asked, eyeing the old-fashioned red vending machine. Someone had taken great care in restoring it, and it looked plucked right out of a bygone era.

Her eyes lit up but then her expression changed. “I’ll pass.”

“My treat,” he said. “I insist.”

She smiled. “Thank you, sir.”

He smiled, too. He’d already told her she didn’t have to call him that, but it still sounded cute hearing it. He didn’t correct her and instead focused his attention on putting some money in the machine. He opened the door, a cold blast of air greeting him as he pulled the bottle from the slot. He repeated the process until they each had one.

“Thank you,” she said, taking the drink from him once he’d popped the lid off. She took a swig, looked at the machine, and said, “How old do you think that is?”

“Oh, I reckon from the Fifties. Maybe early Sixties at the latest.”

She drank some more of her Coke. The cold, carbonated liquid burned slightly going down. “Coke just tastes better out of a glass bottle!”

“Amen to that,” he said, raising his in a toast.

She met him in the middle and the bottles clinked as they bumped each other.

“Ma’am,” the mechanic said, entering from a side door that led to the garage. “Good news is that your rim is just fine. The bad news is that all your tires are in rough shape. Do you have far to travel?”

“I’m still about six hours away from my destination,” she said with obvious panic in her voice.

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