Page 56 of Cowboy's Last Stand
She rolled her eyes at the compliment.“I’m going to run out of money if you keep fixing things at the speed of lightning.”
Jason wondered if she had any savings.She must have received a death gratuity, which was a standard lump sum for widows of soldiers killed in the line of duty.Whatever the amount, it wasn’t enough.It was a damned shame that a military widow was struggling to make ends meet less than two years after her husband’s death.
Jason could easily afford to fund the remodel.He wasn’t collecting disability checks anymore because he’d been cleared for duty in June, but he had plenty of leave time and significant savings.Hiking cross-country cost very little.Jason would rather give money to Natalie than spend it himself.The problem was, she wouldn’t accept his charity.She wanted to payhimfor the labor.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you about that truck in the garage,” he said.
“What about it?”
“Are you going to sell it?”
“I was going to pay to have it removed.Why?”
“If you don’t mind, I’ll take a look at it.Maybe I can get it running.I need a vehicle to haul away junk and pick up supplies.”
“Don’t you have enough to do around here?”
“No.”
She smiled, shaking her head.“The truck belonged to my grandfather.He was planning to restore it.”
Jason liked the sound of that.“Did he buy parts for it?”
“If he did, they’re in the garage.”
“Let’s look.”
They walked down the steps and into the garage.He removed the tarp to unearth a 1950s Ford F-series truck.He’d known it was old and in bad shape, but he hadn’t realized it was a classic.The body was solid, and the glass was intact.It needed tires.Odds were good it needed a complete overhaul.He stood back, letting out a low whistle.
“Is it worth something?”she asked.
“Definitely.These trucks are easy to fix, so they appeal to collectors.Even the color is highly prized.”
“What color?Faded green with rust?”
“They call it a patina.”
“You’re making that up.”
“No.”
“People pay more for rust?”
“Sometimes.”
He managed to wrestle open the hood and peer inside.The engine looked partially rebuilt, which was promising.He searched a dark corner of the garage, where several heavy-duty crates sat.They were filled with stray parts, some still usable.The thrill of discovery coursed through him.
“Tell me the truth,” she said.“Do you only like me for my projects?”
He laughed again, feeling optimistic.This truck would be a joy to salvage, but the real upside was the potential to help her out financially.“Classic car restorations aren’t my specialty.I don’t know that I can do this justice.”
“But you’ll try.”
“Sure, if you’ll let me.”
“Knock yourself out,” she said.“I’m going to drop off some donations.”
He closed the hood, pleased.“I’ll come with you.”
