“What’s wrong, Mama?”
I swallow down a silent scream, smoothing my features for Millie’s sake. “Not sure, sweetie. Probably a flat tire.”
As if on cue, the slap of loose rubber echoes against the asphalt. Burning tar stings my nostrils, providing me with another alert I didn’t need. This can’t be happening. But it most definitely is.
Dammit. Shit. Fuck.
I bite back the string of curses. This is what I get for letting men enter my mind. While attempting to maintain some level of finesse, I slowly pull over onto the shoulder. My car bumps across the gravel, rocking to a stop. I swear the old sedan moans with relief. There’s no denying the uneven tilt, favoring the front passenger side. After switching on the flashers, I bump my head against the seat and groan.
“Are we stuck?” Millie’s voice has a quivering edge that rips at my crumbling facade.
I peer at my daughter through the rearview mirror. With great effort, I muster a wobbly smile. “We’ll be okay, baby girl.”
“Is the car broken?”
“Only a little ouch.”
Her head tilts to the side. “But a Band-Aid won’t fit.”
I laugh. “You’re right about that. Good observation.”
“Who’s gonna save us?” Her gaze is focused out the window. Endless Wyoming prairie land expands in each direction. The concern in her voice might be warranted, but I’m not ready to wave a white flag.
“We don’t need rescuing, Mills. There’s a spare in the trunk.” Fingers freaking crossed. “Just sit tight and I’ll get the supplies. Then you can help me, okay?”
Her lips twist to the side as she studies my reflection. “I guess so.”
“Girl power, right? We can handle this on our own.” And if not, I’ll call a tow truck.
Millie doesn’t look convinced, not that I blame her. As I shove open my door, a whoosh of hot, dry air greets me. I shiver, my skin prickling from the shock. It’s still May, but the temperature is more suitable for the peak summer season. At least the car didn’t crap out completely, so Millie can relax comfortably in the air conditioning.
After rounding the hood, I get a look at the damage. The tire is nearly shredded. There’s no way we’re going anywhere without changing it out. I slump against the bumper, wishing my dad was still around to berate me for not listening to his lessons on fixing a flat. The thought sends throbbing splinters through my chest. But now isn’t the time for wallowing.
The afternoon sun is punishing, beating down on me with unfiltered rays. Beads of sweat are already forming at my nape. More trickle down my spine, causing the fabric of my tank to cling tighter. Getting this task over with quickly will benefit all parties involved. Unfortunately, my knowledge of emergency equipment is sparse. I’m aware of the spare hidden between the rear wheels. Everything else I need should be stashed somewhere in the back. I pop open the trunk and get digging. The rear compartment, where I’m certain a jack and repair kit are stored, is empty. My stomach drops harder than a bag of bricks. This is my luck, of course.
I give myself a moment to have a mini-temper tantrum. After repeating every expletive twice, I comb through my hair and suck in a deep breath. The heat takes away most of the comforting cleanse, but I don’t have the means to be picky.
While considering my options, a list of regrets begins to build. At the very top is my refusal to splurge on roadside assistance. Coming in a really close second place is not checking to make sure the necessary tools are available. I mean, seriously. Of all the foolish mistakes, this one earns a blue ribbon. I’ll never live this failure down once Josey gets wind of it.
I stride to Millie’s door and knock on the glass. She lowers the window, squinting at the bright light streaming in. Her thick lashes lower, shielding her eyes from the sun.
“Hey, pretty lady.” I boop her chin, and she giggles.
“Hi, Mama. Can we leave now?” I have to lean closer to catch her whispered words. My sweet child. She’s so quiet and meek.
“Almost. I have to find someone to help us. Hopefully it won’t be much longer.” I won’t admit defeat, but we do need assistance.
“All right,” she murmurs.
“Are you doing okay?”
Millie nods. “Uh-huh.”
“Do you need anything?” Not that I can offer much.
She shakes her head. Even though it’s hotter than a jalapeño mating with a chili pepper, she remains buckled and proper in the backseat. I can only assume she’s comfortable with the cool air blasting on high. Either that or she doesn’t want to be a bother. A pinch twists in my chest that it could be the latter.
“Don’t worry, sweetie. We’ll be home soon.”
Her chest rises and falls with a heavy breath. “M’kay, Mama.”
I drop a loud smooch on her smooth cheek. “Love you, kiddo.”
She wrinkles her nose, wiping away the evidence of my kiss. “Love you, too.”
After she’s tucked back inside, I lean against my closed door and do a quick search for nearby mechanics. My thumb is poised over the best option, but a distant humming makes me pause. I peer into the distance toward the fast-approaching rumble of an engine. The sound of roaring pipes is getting louder by the second. I straighten and prepare to flag the driver down. Before I can lift my arm, a gleaming motorcycle pulls over in front of us.
The rider whips off his helmet in a fluid motion. Inky, midnight hair catches the sun, matching the shiny paint of his bike. Well, well. Looks like a dashing knight has arrived to save the day. My pulse kicks up another notch. So much for my girl power speech. This guy can swoop in and save my distressed butt any day.
He dismounts his motorcycle, the shocks giving a
