"Right," Tony said, frowning at his hand. "Tune up, winter safety-check."
"Well, yes, I guess that's… I just want to be sure it's going to be okay in the cold weather. I suppose antifreeze… " Her voice faltered. "You've hurt yourself."
He glanced up. Her eyes-very light, clear blue eyes, the only startling thing about her-were riveted on his hand. "Nah," he said, "it's nothing. Just a scrape."
Frown lines appeared between her eyes. "You're bleeding."
He'd already noticed that; he was going to have to put a bandage on the damn thing, and probably some iodine, too. Because that wasn't a pleasant prospect, he growled impatiently, "Don't worry about it-happens all the time." Wrapping the rag around his hand, he jammed it into the pocket of his coveralls, where, he hoped, it would be out of sight and out of mind. He couldn't for the life of him understand why, but her unexpected concern unnerved him; he felt as jittery as a kid.
"Okay," he said in the most businesslike manner he could muster, "let's write you up a ticket." He turned away from her, heading for his office. "You want to give me some idea how much you want done on this thing? You just want antifreeze and wiper blades, or do you want a tune-up?"
"Well… " She came tap-tapping after him, slightly out of breath. "I was sort of hoping you could tell me what I should do. I don't have any idea how much everything costs. If you could look at it-"
"Look, I can tell you what you should do." Tony sat down on the corner of his desk and faced her, steeling himself against the worried look in her eyes. Push the damn thing over a cliff! he wanted to say, but he didn't. Instead he gave her the bad news, making it blunt, because it was so hard to do. "I can almost guarantee you're going to need points, plugs, condenser- How long's it been since you had all your hoses checked? Battery? I don't suppose you have tire chains?"
She shook her head, squared her shoulders and looked him bravely in the eye. "How much is it going to cost?"
He told her, then watched all the color go out of her face. But after a moment she nodded and said in a quiet, firm voice, "All right, if that's what it needs, do it."
Tony exhaled audibly and reached for a service order form. Avoiding her eyes, he said gruffly, "Look, that's just a worst-case scenario. I'm not going to know what's what until I take a look. Could be all you need's antifreeze and wiper blades. I'll just put down 'Check,' and I'll give you a call if-" He broke off, swearing, as a drop of blood made a neat, scarlet polka dot on the multilayered form.
Chapter Two
Karen stiffened and looked wary, like a bird poised for flight. "What is it?"
"Agh," said Tony disgustedly, and stood up, jerking his head toward the only chair in the cramped office, the swivel chair behind the desk. "Have a seat. I'm going to have to get a bandage on this damn thing-"
"Can I help?" Her voice sounded breathless. Tony paused in the act of unwrapping his hand to look at her and saw that the color was back in her face, perhaps even a little more than had been there before. It made her seem younger, softer. The pads of his fingertips tingled with a disconcerting urge to touch her.
There was a pause while he wrestled with the impulse, and then he said, "Yeah, okay, sure. There's a first-aid kit in that filing cabinet over there behind you-bottom drawer."
The old chair creaked as she swiveled toward the cabinet, groaned when she leaned over to open the drawer, squeaked as she turned back to the desk. Tony watched her, liking the way she moved.
She placed the first-aid kit on the desk, then unbuttoned her coat and shrugged out of it, letting it fall over the back of the chair. The dress she was wearing had a high round neck and long sleeves, and was made of some sort of soft knit material in a dark, somber color-maroon, he supposed. On her, it looked good. The slightly curled ends of her tawny hair just brushed her shoulders and swung across her cheeks when she leaned forward. It looked soft and clean. He imagined that it would smell good, too.
"Just a bandage," he said as she hesitated over the array of medical supplies. "And some of that iodine there-nothing fancy."
She glanced doubtfully at his hand. "Don't you think you should wash it first?"
"Nah, then the bandage won't stick. Look, just cover it up so it won't get in my way. The iodine'll kill everything, anyway." Tony thrust his hand at her, impatient with himself for the disquieting images her presence was fomenting in his mind. "Come on, get it over with. If you want that car of yours by tonight- OW!" That was followed with a sharp, sibilant oath as he tried to jerk his hand away from the stinging brown liquid she'd just poured into the gash on his knuckle.
But before he could, before he knew what she was going to do, perhaps even before she knew herself, Karen Todd had caught his oil-stained hand in both of her soft, smooth, clean ones. The next thing he knew she was bending over it, blowing frantically on the cut and casting him quick, angry glances between puffs. "Why in the world… don't you use the kind that… doesn't sting?"
"Because this way, at least I know it's working," Tony managed to grate between his tightly clenched teeth, then went on swearing.
Karen made a derisive sound and gave him another bright blue glare. "Then you could at least try to be brave," she said as she went on blowing.
After a moment or two of tense silence, he surprised both her and himself by chuckling.
"What's funny?"
Tony muttered, "Nothing." Then he shrugged and smiled. "My mother used to do that."
"Ohh… " The angry glint faded from her eyes. He watched them grow round, luminous, as if she'd just seen something unexpected and wondrous. He couldn't imagine what he'd said or done to put that look on her face, but it had a profound effect on him. Pretty much as if someone had sat down heavily on his midsection.
While he was trying to remember how to breathe, it apparently occurred to Karen that she was still holding his hand. She dropped it like a hot rock and began to rummage in the first-aid kit for a bandage, acting as if his life depended on her finding it. When she did finally locate it, she seemed to have trouble getting the paper wrapping off, and when she went to put it on his finger, Tony noticed that her hands were shaking a little.
He let her struggle with it, not offering to help, just keeping his mouth shut and holding himself very still, watching the way her teeth pressed into the soft pillow of her lower lip, and the way her lashes made crescent shadows on her flushed cheeks. It wasn't until she was finished and they both let go of a breath at the same time that he realized he'd been holding his all the time.
"There-is that all right?" She looked up at him, and the light betrayed a fine film of moisture across the bridge of her nose.
"Yeah, thanks," Tony said absently. "I think that should do it." But for some reason he just went on sitting there, studying her, flexing his hand.
After a moment or two, Karen suddenly pushed the first-aid kit away from her and stood up, groping for her coat. "I, um… I have to go- I'm late for work. Is it all right if I stop in after work to pick up the car? Oh-" She paused; he could see her steel herself before she turned back to him. "I forgot- I know it's an imposition, but I promised I'd ask you. Is it all right if Andrew-if my son comes over here after school? He usually comes to my office and reads, or does his homework until I'm ready to go home, but he wanted-he said-"
"Yeah, sure," Tony said. "No problem."
"Are you sure? I don't want him to be in the way. If you'd rather not-"
"He's not going to get in my way," Tony interrupted her, more sharply than he intended. And then, because he didn't want her to think he was annoyed with her, he tried to soften it as best he could with a lopsided smile. "Hell, I'm shorthanded today-one of my mechanics called in sick- I might just put the kid to work."