Hope Burns Page 24

“Okay.”

It took about ten minutes to get there. He pulled Rhonda into the garage.

“Come on inside. I’ll need to pack a few things. It won’t take me a minute.”

She hesitated, but then followed him in. He hung his keys on the rack and went into the bedroom.

“Make yourself at home. I’ll be right back.”

Molly didn’t want to be here. She wanted to be halfway to Austin by now. She’d intended to get up early and hit the road. Instead, George had been decidedly uncooperative. Her dad had tried to help her get him started, and when they did, he’d insisted she take the car to Carter’s shop. She really hadn’t wanted to do that, either, but she didn’t have much of a choice since she hadn’t wanted to end up stranded on the side of the highway.

She couldn’t believe Carter was going to drive her to Austin. She’d tried to think up an excuse as to why this wasn’t going to work, but in the end, she wanted a quick solution, and he’d offered. They could make this work. They knew each other, and it wasn’t like he was some stranger offering up a road trip in his truck, right?

For her mother, she’d endure anything. Besides, it was nice of him to offer. She was certain he had better things to do this weekend than drive her all the way to Austin and back.

So why had he offered? Especially after the way she’d been treating him, the way she’d yelled at him at the wedding.

She wasn’t even going to ask, because right now, she needed him. So when he came back with a small duffel bag in his hand, she smiled.

“Thanks for doing this.”

“Not a problem. I was going to clean the house this weekend. I’d rather take a road trip.”

She looked around. The place was spotless. And nicely decorated, too. For a guy, he had pretty good taste in furnishing and décor. She almost wished they could take a moment so he could show her his place.

But that would be a really bad idea, and again, there was the lack of time thing.

“You ready to go?” he asked.

She nodded, so he led her out through the garage and to the driveway. He had a nice black Chevy truck she hadn’t even noticed when they’d pulled up. “Is this new?”

“I bought it last year. I needed something for hauling and towing. Rhonda’s not exactly good for things like that.”

She climbed in and settled in the ample seat. “Understandable.”

She fished her phone out of her purse. “I’m going to call my dad and let him know you’re driving me. He was worried about George’s current state.”

“I can see why.”

Ignoring him, she pushed the button and her dad answered after three rings. “Hey, Dad. How’s Mom doing?”

“She’s fine. Propped up on multiple pillows in the living room and giving me orders. And a list.”

That made her smile because it sounded normal for her mother. “Good.”

“How’s the car?”

“Really broken. A fuel pump and injector thing that’s going to require parts and a few days to repair. But Carter offered to drive me to Austin in his truck.”

“I’m glad to hear that. So you’re set, then?”

“Yes, I’m set. I should be back sometime tomorrow. I’ll give you a call when we’re on the way back home.”

“Okay, honey. Don’t worry about anything here. The nurse has already been by, and your mom’s doing fine.”

“All right. Love you, Dad.”

“Love you, too.”

She hung up, feeling a lot better about things. She tucked her phone back in her purse.

“Everything okay at home? How’s your mom feeling?”

“She’s doing fine. Thanks for asking.”

He hit the turnpike and headed south. Now she just had to endure the miles and what she was certain was going to be endless, uncomfortable silence.

“Tell me about your job, Molly.”

She turned her head. “My job?”

“The one you have to leave in Austin.”

“Oh. I work . . . or I worked . . . for a music company.”

“What kind of a music company?”

“It was an independent label.”

“Oh, so a record company.”

“Yes.”

The sun had moved out from behind the clouds, so he grabbed his sunglasses and slid them on. They made him look sexy. If she were honest with herself, Carter always looked sexy. He wore his hair short, except the top was a little long. Her fingers ached to tangle through the thickness of it, to find out if it was still as soft as she remembered.

“What kind of music?”

She pulled out her sunglasses and put them on. “They’re a pretty eclectic label. Rock, pop, folk, some R&B. They had some great artists.”

“And what did you do for them?”

“A little accounting. A lot of marketing. I was just getting started, really. Delia—that’s who I worked for—she’s great and gave me a lot of latitude on the marketing side of things. Unfortunately, since I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, she has to replace me.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah. But I’ll just find something else when it’s time to hit the road again.”

She thought he’d say something about her staying in Hope, but he didn’t, which was good. Because she wasn’t going to.

“By the way,” he said, “I talked to the committee and rescheduled the meeting for next week.”