Max took off his helmet and climbed down; she did, too, with a lot less grace. “Were you able to breathe?” she asked.
The merest hint of a smile touched his mouth. “Barely. I think I might have a couple of cracked ribs.”
Bethanne didn’t know if this was a joke or if he was serious. “Sorry.”
He entered the garage and she trailed after him. The mechanic brightened the instant he saw Max, came forward and thrust out his hand. “Max! Good to see you again. I got that widow’s car running and—”
“Hey, Marv, I need a favor,” Max said, cutting him off.
“You got it,” the other man said without hesitation. “I owe you. I didn’t need even half the money you gave me to fix that old Ford.”
“You don’t owe me a thing.”
The mechanic obviously knew and trusted Max. That was a good sign as far as Bethanne was concerned.
He nodded at Bethanne. “Name’s Marvin Green.”
“Bethanne,” she said. “Bethanne Hamlin.”
“Can you send a tow truck out to Snow Water Lake?” Max asked his friend.
“Sure.” Marvin went into a small windowed office and picked up a phone. Max and Bethanne waited outside.
“Is there a rental car place in town?” Bethanne asked, since they’d need to exchange vehicles.
“I only ride,” he said, which she guessed was his shortcut way of telling her he didn’t know.
“You don’t talk much, do you?”
“No.”
“Any particular reason?”
He shrugged. “I generally don’t have a lot to say.”
Bethanne didn’t believe him but didn’t respond, either.
Max walked over to the soda machine, inserted a couple of dollar bills and bought two sodas, bringing her one.
“Thanks,” she said, accepting it gratefully. Her throat was parched. They wandered over to a row of plastic chairs and sat quietly, side by side, while Marvin made phone calls.
After several minutes of discomfort, Bethanne found herself breaking the silence. “I thought about you last night.” The confession popped out before she could censure it. She had no idea what had prompted the comment and instantly regretted it.
His gaze shot to hers. She could tell she’d surprised him.
Instead of dropping it the way she should have, she made matters worse. “Actually, I said a prayer for you…. I didn’t used to pray,” she added awkwardly, feeling she needed to explain herself. “Not until recently.” The words just kept coming. Normally Bethanne would never have blurted out something this personal. She hardly ever talked about politics or religion and never with someone who was basically a stranger.
He stared at her as if he didn’t know how to take her ad mission.
She’d started down this road, so she might as well continue. “I always believed in God. I went to church and all that, but, well…after my husband left me, I backed off for a while. I feel differently now….”
“You’re divorced?”
She nodded. “Six years now. Annie’s my daughter and Ruth’s my—mother-in-law.”
“Ex-mother-in-law.”
“Technically, you’re right. But I don’t think of her in those terms. Grant divorced me, but I chose to keep Ruth.”
“Your husband’s an idiot,” Max said.
“Ex-husband,” she corrected, and to her astonishment, Max laughed.
Marvin glanced their way and lifted his chin. Max stood, joining the mechanic in his office. The two men spoke for a while; she finished her soda before Max returned.
“Marvin found a tow truck willing to drive out to the lake.”
That was a relief. “Would it be okay if I rode back with the driver rather than on the Harley? No slight intended, but I think we’d both be more comfortable.”
“That’s fine.”
Once again they sat in silence. Finally, Max leaned forward, his forearms resting on his thighs. “Why did you feel you needed to say a prayer for me?” he asked.
Bethanne wasn’t sure what to tell him. She couldn’t very well admit he’d remained in her thoughts—and that she didn’t understand why. “I…asked God to keep you and your friends safe on the road. Of course, at the time, I didn’t know I was going to be riding, uh, buddy with you in the very near future.” She tried to make light of it and realized she was saying far more than necessary. Maybe it was because he didn’t speak much that she felt this compulsion to fill the void with chatter.
“Why?” he asked again after she’d stopped talking.
Bethanne closed her eyes and settled back against the hard chair. “I don’t exactly know.” She wasn’t being completely honest. At the café she’d been aware that he was watching her as she moved about, waiting tables, delivering meals, doing her best to keep up with customers’ demands. A couple of times their eyes had met. She’d smiled, but he hadn’t. His lack of response hadn’t intimidated her; instead, she saw something in him…something she recognized in herself. Pain. She sensed that he’d suffered the same kind of wrenching emotional pain she had. Ultimately that was what had prompted her to pray for him.
“Would you mind if I asked you a question?” She looked up at him.
“That depends. You can ask, but I might not answer.”
“Fair enough.”
Max walked over to the vending machine as if he needed to put distance between them.
Bethanne stood and followed him. “Did your wife leave you?” she asked in a low voice.