Her mother broke the silence. “What did Bradley say about me?”
“Bradley? What do you mean?”
“Did he say I was doing well?”
“He said you were, up until a few weeks ago.”
She nodded. “Since the fall.”
“No, he thought you were upset about Madison Robie’s murder investigation being reopened.”
“Oh, that.” She shook out a shirt, then slipped it onto a hanger. “Did he talk about Liz?”
Sienna nodded. “He told me she left him.”
“That’s what he told me, too. I miss her.”
Sienna felt bad for her. Her mother’s world was very small. Losing a piece of it would have a big impact. “I’m sorry. I liked her, too.”
“She never talked about it.”
“About what?”
“Being unhappy.” Her mother trailed her fingers along the neckline of a pale pink sweater. “This is pretty.”
“It’s one of my favorites.” Sienna went to the next bag. “She probably didn’t want to upset you.”
“Maybe.” She neatly folded the sweater and handed it to Sienna. “She never said goodbye.”
Sienna stopped what she was doing and frowned. That didn’t sound like the woman she’d met. Of course, if her mother was the reason for the marriage ending, she could understand it. “Really? That’s kind of surprising.”
“He doesn’t like me, you know. He never has.”
“Who’s that?”
“Bradley.”
“That’s not true, Mom. He’s never thought of you as his mother, but he cares for you. It’s just … complicated.”
That was an understatement. He’d been saddled with a stepmother who had upended his childhood and, by his account, broken up his marriage. And even without those, her disorder made her difficult to love.
“I suppose. I do worry whether she’s okay.”
“I’m sure she is.” Sienna shook out a pair of trousers. “How about I check on her for you? I wanted to see her anyway. Would that give you some peace of mind?”
She brought a hand to her chest. “It really would. Thank you, sweetheart.” She stood. “I’m feeling a little tired, do you mind if lie down while you finish unpacking?”
“Of course not. I’ll check on you when I’m finished.”
* * *
When Sienna checked on her, she found her sound asleep. She decided to use her time to compose a grocery list, then head to the store. She wanted to make something special for dinner, to celebrate her homecoming. Besides, maybe her mother would understand how much her daughter loved cooking after she tasted it.
The fridge, Sienna discovered, was nearly empty—a bag of sad-looking lettuce and past-its-prime cream. The pantry wasn’t much better: breakfast cereal, sugary “protein” bars, and things like instant rice and boxed macaroni and cheese.
No wonder she’s so thin, Sienna thought. She checked the freezer and was relieved to find a dozen frozen meals. At least she was getting some protein. For a moment there, she’d worried breakfast cereal might be her nutritional mainstay.
The car keys were hanging on a rack beside the door to the garage, same as they always had. After leaving a note so her mother wouldn’t worry, she snatched them up and headed into the garage. The same Buick sedan from five years before sat waiting. Sienna climbed inside, wrinkling her nose at the stale smell. Obviously, it hadn’t been driven in a while.
She inserted the key and twisted—the cold engine whined and sputtered, then died. She tried again with the same result. The third time was the charm—it gasped its way to life.
She let it run a few minutes, then backed out of the garage, down the drive, and into the street.
Where the engine promptly died.
“Dammit,” she muttered, trying to restart it. This time, she didn’t even get a sputter out of it.
Her stomach sank. Great. The vehicle was angled in the street, blocking two-thirds of it. She’d have to call for a tow, so no groceries. No wonderful dinner, and only cereal for breakfast.
And no coffee.
The thought of going without her coffee in the morning severed her last nerve. She lowered her forehead to the steering wheel, fighting the urge to cry.
She jumped at the tap-tap on her window. A dark-haired guy with the most beautiful brown eyes stood beside her vehicle. His face was red from the cold, his expression concerned.
“You need some help?” he asked.
She nodded and cracked open the door. Cold air stung her cheeks. “It killed on me and won’t start back up.”
“Try starting it again.”
She did. He listened, then nodded. “It sounds like either the battery or the alternator. Has it been sitting up awhile?”
“I think so. I’m visiting my mom and she doesn’t get out much.”
“I’ve noticed that.” At her expression he smiled. “I’m not spying. I bought the house across the street.” He pointed. “I’m in the process of renovating.”
She nodded. “Gotcha.”
“How about I try jumping it?”
“That would be so great. Thank you.”
“Hold tight.”
She watched him walk away. He looked to be somewhere in his early to mid thirties. He was tall, with the confident stride of a former athlete. Who knew, maybe he still was?
And maybe he was married and she should stop noticing things like his eyes and his backside.
A few minutes later, a big black pickup truck rolled down his driveway. She wondered at his profession. Perhaps he was one of those house flippers? Or he worked in construction and was laid off for the season? Or like a lot of folks in this part of the country, had been downsized.
Or maybe his wife was the breadwinner, and he was a stay-at-home dad? The kid, or kids, were at school, and he was left to save stranded women?
Which would make all of it none of her business.
He expertly maneuvered the truck, then hopped out. After lifting his own hood, he asked her to pop hers.
It took her a moment to find the lever; she did and he lifted the hood. She climbed out of the car and went to stand by him, stamping her feet and hugging herself to stay warm.
“Wait in the car, it’s freezing out here.” When she hesitated, he waved her toward the Buick. “I’ve got this. Besides, once I get the clamps connected, I’ll need you to try starting it up.”
She nodded and hurried back to the sedan. A few moments later, he signaled her to try cranking the engine.
It started. Sienna smiled and gave him a thumbs-up. After letting it run a minute, he disconnected the cables, slammed the hood, and came around to the driver’s side window. She lowered it.
“I can’t thank you enough,” she said.
“Happy to help.”
He smiled and his eyes crinkled at the corners in the most attractive way. She scolded herself for noticing.
“Go straight to Mack’s Auto Stop. You know Mack’s?”
She told him she did. Crazy how things in small towns didn’t change.
“Good. He’ll test the battery for you. If you need a new one, he’ll install it right there, no extra charge.”