Page 12 of The Texas Hero's Homecoming

“Maybe just half a million,” she said, grinning. “Honestly, thank you. I appreciate your help.”

“Sure. Have a good weekend.”

Nicole walked out and Autumn’s phone rang. The screen scrolled Sam Russell’s name and her heart pumped hard. This was the first time she’d gotten a call from him, and it shouldn’t leave her breathless, but it did. “Sam? Is anything wrong?” she blurted. “Is it Papa?”

“Everything’s fine. Hold your horses, woman. I’m at the farm and can’t get the darn truck to work. Seth said you do something with the key. You jiggle it a certain way or something. Got us half an acre of pumpkins to load and I can’t get the dang truck to start.”

She held back a giggle. Sam was so exasperated. Especially since he’d worked on cars as a teen and had been pretty good at it. “Yeah, ole Gertrude’s temperamental. Jiggle the key twice to the left, then once to the right and then push it in as hard as you can. She should start right up.”

“Well, Gertrude’s not cooperating. She’s been jiggled more than a bowl of gelatin.” Sam blew out a breath. “When are you coming home? Thought you would’ve been here by now.”

She stifled another chuckle. “I’m leaving right now. Be there in twenty minutes.”

“Make that a fast twenty, Autumn.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

She hung up the phone, unable to wipe a smile from her face. And she had dilapidated Gertrude to thank for that. Not that she wasn’t grateful for Sam’s hard work today. She was. He and Seth had harvested half an acre already. That was something. But No-Sweat Sam had actually met his match in a stubborn old truck.

Now, that was funny.

*

What wasn’t sofunny was catching sight of Sam as she pulled up to the acreage they’d just harvested. A black cowboy hat shading his face, a blue plaid shirt split open, exposing a column of tanned solid chest with sleeves rolled up his forearms; he heaved a huge pumpkin into the truck. His power and strength did things to her stomach, stealing her breath for a few seconds.

He spotted her, waved, and then headed over.

She got out of the car, her feet refusing to move any further.

Lord have mercy.

He came to stand a foot away, his blue eyes alarmingly direct. “All the jiggling in the world couldn’t get her to start,” he said.

“You’re just not doing it right.”

“That darn truck has a mind of its own.”

“Gertrude has to be handled with care.”

“Gertrudeneeds a major tune-up. Like some other things around here.”

“I beg your pardon?” Was he talking about her?

“Nothing.”

“Let me show you how it’s done.”

“I know how it’s done, Autumn. Just show me how to start the dang truck.”

She ignored the innuendo but feared in the silence of the night while she was in bed, his words would haunt her.

“Watch and learn,” she said, much more confidently than she felt. He was right, the truck needed a tune-up, among other things, but they just couldn’t afford that right now. So, she prayed Gertrude wouldn’t make a liar out of her.

They walked over to the flatbed and she waved at Seth and Alicia who were putting away equipment. The married couple started work at the crack of dawn and four p.m. meant quitting time for them.

She stepped into the truck’s cab, took a seat and blew out a big breath. Sam peered at her through the window.

Just start, Gerty, one more time for me. Please.

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