His Montana Homecoming

Faith raised her eyebrows. “What about those shoes? They’re showing water stains. Why don’t you put on Adam’s boots?”

He hated feeling useless, and she was right about his kid-leather boots. He’d ruin them, plus they were slippery on the surface of the road. “They’re fine. Give me that jack.”

She handed it over.

He looked at the tiny metal thing. “This is going to support the car?”

“It had better, considering it was made for it. Place the jack a little ways behind the tire, and then crank it up enough for me to wiggle off the wheel.”

Carefully, he positioned the jack under the Honda. Using the lever and the crowbar, Dale got enough height for Faith to finish screwing off the lug nuts by hand. Then she tried to shimmy the wheel. It wouldn’t budge.

“Don’t reach underneath anything.” Dale didn’t trust that jack. “Here, let me do it.”

She stepped aside. “Fine.”

“There’s the culprit. We ran over a nail.” He wiggled the wheel and then pulled. It slipped off easier than expected and he backed up quickly, but his boots failed. Both feet came out from under him and he landed hard with the tire on top of his chest.

“Are you okay?” Faith stood looking down at him.

“Ah, yeah, fine.” He groaned. The cold-packed snow melted, seeping into the seat of his trousers.

Faith giggled as she knelt down to pull the tire off him. Then she gasped. “Oh, no...”

He sat up and looked at the front of his suit. The tire had left a streak of grime from shoulder to hip. Ruined. He glanced at Faith.

Her blue eyes shone with unabashed amusement.

“It’s not funny.” But it was.

She burst into laughter.

He spread his arms wide. “This is one of my favorite suits.”

And that made her laugh even harder. “It’s downright ugly, if you ask me.”

He grinned. “I’ll have you know that I dated a cousin to the royal family in this suit.”

“Really?” Faith wrinkled her nose. “Was it serious?”

He laughed at her wide-eyed innocence. “I don’t do serious.”

“Oh.”

He tried to stand.

“Here.” She reached out her hand.

He looked at it and then at her. Petite came to mind. Then crazy. “Yeah, like you’re going to leverage me into standing.”

“I’m no weakling.”

“Neither am I.” The last thing he needed was to pull her down with him if he slipped again.

He made an awkward show of getting up off the cold ground. She stifled a giggle with the palm of her hand.

Nice.

He managed to remain upright while he hauled the flat tire into the back of Faith’s SUV. No need to worry about more dirt. His suit was toast. The temporary replacement tire lay on the ground waiting to be popped on and tightened. He managed to complete that task, too, without losing his balance.

“Step back,” he ordered as he lowered the jack.

Faith folded her arms and waited, watching him silently.

He stood, whipped off his suit jacket and wiped his hands with it. Then he balled up the garment and looked around.

“Don’t even think about leaving that behind.”

“It’s made of natural fibers, it’ll break down.” Did she think he’d really litter real garbage?

She snorted contempt. “Give it here and I’ll throw it in the back. You still want to drive?”

“Yes.” He tossed her the jacket and slipped into the driver’s seat and started the engine. He needed to feel in control of something.

Flicking the switch for heated seats, he hoped his backside would dry. And thaw. Man, he was cold. He cranked the heat.

Faith climbed in.

“Ready?” he asked.

She leaned toward him, inspecting his face.

“What?”

“You’ve got grease under your chin.” She reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a wad of napkins. “Hold still.”

He jerked his head out of reach and glanced in the rearview mirror. “Where?”

She grabbed his chin and pulled his face toward her. “Quit or you’ll get the collar of your shirt messed up.”

“I don’t care about my shirt.” He didn’t fight her, though. The grip she had on his chin was strong.

She concentrated on wiping under his chin.

He watched her. Her eyelashes were ridiculously long.

“You’ve got a glob of grease right here.” Leaning over the console that separated their seats, Faith rubbed the skin below his ear with a rough napkin.

“Are you done?” He tipped his head down and breathed in the soft scent of her wrist.