The Ballad of Hattie Taylor by Susan Andersen

Author:Susan Andersen [Andersen, Susan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2021-01-05T00:00:00+00:00

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The motorcar broke down miles from town. Hattie restlessly paced the country road, darting frequent glances at Jake, who was hunched over the engine. When he’d first started searching for the problem, she had hung over his shoulder, asking questions and trying to help. But he’d become unbelievably testy and finally she had stalked off. Augusta was serenely patient as she rested on a blanket beneath a shady tree yards off the road. Hattie, however, found it impossible to sit still. She’d removed her duster and hat and unfastened a few buttons on her shirtwaist to allow vagrant breezes to cool her throat. But she simply could not sit and do nothing. So, she paced.

On one of her circuits, she passed near the automobile and reluctantly halted. If Jacob was just going to snap at her again— She stood for several moments without speaking. Finally, she nudged a tire with her toe. “Not very reliable, is it?” she asked and was embarrassed by her petulant tone. “Not like a horse.” Well, if she sounded sullen, too bad. His crankiness hadn’t been necessary; she’d only been trying to help.

To her surprise, Jake turned his head and grinned at her. The sun shining in his eyes turned them a truer green than the muddy hazel they normally appeared, and there was a smear of grease alongside his long, bony nose. “Guess you wouldn’t be interested in learning how to drive one, then, huh?”

Hattie’s eyes immediately lit with enthusiasm. “You’d let me drive it? Truly? I wouldn’t know what to do. But you could teach me, couldn’t you?”

Jake studied her face, taking in each feature in turn. His gaze dropped for a moment to the pulse in the exposed hollow of her throat, then returned to her eyes. “Yeah, sure. Provided I ever get ’er running again.”

Hattie edged up to the bumper. “Let me help. Look at all this stuff—” She indicated the box of tools and motoring paraphernalia. “I can hand it to you as you need it. Surely that would save time.”

Jake seriously doubted it, but he acquiesced just to have her near. As he suspected, it took longer to describe what he needed—and wait while she searched for the tool—than it would to find what he required himself. But she was so sweet in her earnestness to help that he reined in his impatience.

In time, he discovered the problem and corrected it. Eyeing Hattie, he decided her wide smile of prideful accomplishment over the once-again-running-smoothly motorcar was almost worth the hindrance of her assistance.

It was damn good to have her back home where she belonged.

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