Page 19 of Merry Christmas, Cowboy

He stared at her. “What else would I do?”

“Uh, I don’t know. But I didn’t ask you to—”

“Nicole, I know. You didn’t ask me. I’mofferingto help. Now, go start the engine.”

She wasn’t sure she liked his tone.

Nicole marched to her car door, pulled it open, sank herself down into the seat and tried to start the ignition. Nothing much happened.

He strode over to her. “Again. I want to hear it.”

She turned the key and then he nodded. “When was the last time the battery was changed?”

“Uh, I don’t think it’s ever been changed. The car is only three years old.”

“Maybe it’s time. I’ll give you a jump. Stay put and I’ll let you know when to start it up. Okay?”

She nodded and watched him walk to his truck. He came back holding jumper cables and connected them to her car’s battery and then his. He turned on his ignition and his engine roared to life.

“Try it again,” he called to her.

She gave the key another twist of the wrist and surprisingly, her engine sputtered to life for a few seconds and then it purred. “It worked.” She was beyond relieved.

Garrett walked over to her. “Let it run a while, then I’ll follow you back to town.”

“Oh, thank you, but that’s not necessary. I’ll make it just fine.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Just in case. You don’t want to break down again.”

She’d almost forgotten the reason for her visit to Cottonwood. “But what about the wagon? I really have to see it. The kids plan on decorating it, and I need to make sure it’s all in working order.”

“I can check it out for you.”

She shook her head. “No, I’ve already caused you enough trouble. And used up your valuable time.”

“I’ll be the judge of that. It’s not an imposition.”

It was really kind of him to offer, but shewasimposing on him, and he’d been a good sport about all of this.

“If you really must see the wagon, drive over to the ranch and I’ll follow you. We’ll get you back to town safely later. Deal?”

She hesitated, biting her lip. His eyes traveled to her mouth and he sighed at her indecision. At least she thought that was why he was sighing.

She was wasting time and there was no use arguing, Garrett wore a stubborn, don’t-cross-me, look. “Deal.”

“Fine, I’ll follow you.”

“Thanks.”

He was halfway back to his truck, when he stopped and turned to her. “Were you really going to walk back to town on foot?”

“Sure, I could do it. Why not?”

He shook his head, as if she was completely nutty, then strode to his truck and waited for her to drive on by. He followed behind, and they made the short two-mile drive to Cottonwood in less than five minutes.

At the ranch, she waited for him to park his truck in front of the garage, then climbed out. “What should I do?” she asked.

“It’s okay to shut down your engine. I’ll have to jump it later to get you back to town. We’ll make sure someone’s there to change your battery.”

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