Grease beneath two fingernails.
He walked around the motorcycle once before touching it.
“What year?”
“Twenty-two.”
“Custom?”
“A little.”
He looked at her.
“A little?”
Raven glanced at the bike.
The engine alone had cost more than his truck.
“Fine. A lot.”
He smiled.
“Thought so.”
He crouched.
Emma climbed out of the pickup and stood near the passenger door.
“Dad fixes everything.”
The man looked over his shoulder.
“That is dangerous advertising.”
“You fixed Mrs. Donnelly’s tractor.”
“Eventually.”
“And the freezer at school.”
“By hitting the relay.”
“It worked.”
“That does not make it engineering.”
Emma looked toward Raven.
“It looked like engineering.”
Raven laughed.
The sound surprised her.
She had not laughed naturally in several days.
Maybe several weeks.
The man glanced up.
For a second, their eyes met.
Then he looked back at the engine.
“I’m Luke.”
“Raven.”
He waited.
Most people waited for the last name.
She did not offer one.
Luke did not ask.
That mattered more than it should have.
He examined several connections, then removed one glove and touched a cable near the lower frame.
His expression changed.
“What?”
Raven asked.
“Not sure yet.”
He traced the wiring.
Then looked beneath the fuel system.
“You carrying tools?”
“Factory kit.”
“That’s mostly for making you feel better.”
“I suspected.”
He stood.
“I can probably get it running, but not here.”
“How far is the nearest shop?”
“Mine.”
Raven looked around.
“Where?”
“Three miles back.”
She stared at his truck.
Luke understood.
“I’ve got ramps.”
He opened the truck bed.
Two aluminum loading ramps were strapped beside a toolbox.
“You’re a mechanic?”
“Depending on who owes me money.”
Emma raised her hand.
“He’s a mechanic.”
Luke sighed.
“My press representative.”
Raven smiled.
“How much to tow it?”
Luke shrugged.
“Let’s figure out what’s wrong first.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“I know.”
Something about the answer irritated Raven slightly.
Not because it was rude.
Because she was accustomed to transactions being named immediately.
Price.
Fee.
Rate.
Terms.
People were easier when everything came with numbers.
Luke unfolded the ramps.
Raven stepped toward the bike.
“I can help.”
“I assumed you would.”
That surprised her too.
Many men saw Raven’s appearance before they saw competence.
Luke simply positioned himself on one side.
“Front brake when I say.”
They pushed together.
The motorcycle rolled into the truck bed.
Raven secured one strap.
Luke watched.
“You’ve done this.”
“Once or twice.”
Emma whispered loudly:
“She’s cooler than you.”
Luke pulled the second strap tight.
“Everyone is cooler than me.”
“True.”
Raven laughed again.
Ten minutes later she was sitting in the passenger seat while Emma occupied the narrow rear bench.
The truck smelled faintly of motor oil, coffee, and crayons.
A child’s drawing was taped to the dashboard.