Jennifer Greene - Her Holiday Secret

“Okay. That only limits it to about five thousand models. Anything just a little more specific on your wish list?”

“Well...if it can’t behave on snow and rough back roads, it’s no good to me. And I need some room. Like space for skis in the winter, backpacks and tents in the summer. The car that was totalled in the accident? It was new. It was pretty. It had cream upholstery. It was the dumbest thing I could possibly have bought, for me.”

“So you need more of a practical, utility vehicle. Sturdy, four-wheel drive, dual brakes...lots of good choices we can look at in that ballpark. Now to the dicier questions. I don’t want to pry. But before we get near a car salesman, it’d help if you gave me a ceiling and a general idea what your price range is.”

She chuckled. “Money isn’t a problem, Andy. I can handle that part.”

He heard the chuckle, but he also caught the teensy stiffening in her shoulders. Oops, best not go down that road, he thought dryly.

But as they drove into the first car dealership, he felt increasingly relaxed. He was pretty sure how this was going to go. Not that he knew Maggie so well, but certain things just seemed obvious. She had a couple tons of pride and a big thing about independence. Ergo, it was tough for her to admit to a weakness, and if she’d been bamboozled on price or mechanics or a bad car choice before, it was just natural that she’d be a little prickly.

Like any lawman in a small town, Andy knew the business owners on a first-name basis. He was with her, so she wasn’t gonna get bamboozled this time. He just had to be careful to help her out in an unobtrusive, tactful way. And the second ingredient Andy figured he needed to make this venture go smoothly was a couple buckets of patience.

Maggie was, after all, female. And even a bad marriage could teach a guy certain things. Shopping with women for anything was like trying to communicate with an alien species. They needed time. They needed to compare. They needed space to be indecisive. They took forty years to make up their minds on anything.

Blazing white neon lights illuminated a half acre of cars. Andy stepped out and plastered on his soul-ofpatience smile. No guy she’d ever been with—and for damn sure no guy she’d ever kissed—was ever gonna be as patient as he was.

Cut and dried.

Harvey Lyman barrelled out of the building the instant he saw them climbing out of Andy’s car. “Hi there, folks!” Harvey had a fluff of white hair, cheeks like apples and a gut like a watermelon—four weeks from now he’d be playing Santa, and God knew he had a face that could inspire trust in the unsuspecting. His smile sagged a good half inch when he recognized Andy.

“Good to see you, Sheriff Gautier.” They pumped hands, did the obligatory how’s your dad, isn’t this snow something small talk routine. “So what can I do for you? You’re looking at cars?”

“I brought a friend. She’s looking. Just looking tonight, but....” Andy half turned to introduce Maggie, and found her gone. No tea-brown bobbing head anywhere, no puffy down-filled green jacket that matched her eyes, no nothing.

Harvey was chugging steam by the time they caught up with her. Maggie had just finished circling a sporty white utility vehicle with a dark gray interior. She lifted her face in a smile when she saw Andy. “This’ll do,” she announced.

“Yeah, I think that’s one of the good choices that’d work for you, but...” But he assumed she was kidding.

She wasn’t kidding.

There were dozens of other cars to check out, and they hadn’t even strolled through the other dealerships. She hadn’t sat behind the wheel. He strongly suspected she hadn’t even glanced at the sticker price.

Harvey could smell a sucker at fifty paces, but even he had to choke out a suggestion that she must want to look around. No dice. Maggie patted the big car’s rump. “Really, this fits the bill. Right size. Colors I can live with. I don’t see any reason not to just get this over with—”

Harvey was in danger of an imminent heart attack. He’d probably never smelled such an easy sales commission in his entire thirty years in the business. Still, he managed to puff out, “You’re making a brilliant choice, a fine vehicle, dependable—”

“Shut up, Harvey. Maggie, you’re not buying a car you haven’t even sat in.” Harvey produced the keys faster than a finger snap. She climbed in, sat down, climbed back out again.

“Okay. Feels good. Now can we just get this over with? Where do I pay?”

Harvey went into a spasm of coughing. Andy clamped a firm hand on his shoulder. “She’s going to test drive it. And then she’s going to think about it. Long and hard. The only reason she’s smiling is because that sticker price is so funny. You hear me, Harv?”

Harvey not only wasn’t listening; Harvey had completely forgotten who’d saved his nephew from a drunkand-disorderly charge at Babe’s bar last year. He only had eyes for Maggie, and they were big and soulful and sincere. “You just take it for as long a drive as you want to, honey. Enjoy yourself. It’s such a classy car, I can’t even think of another vehicle that’d be more perfect for you—”

Once Harv was shut out and they were both seated inside the car, Maggie said, “Look, I can see you’re getting exasperated with me—”

On a witch-black night in a pitch-black car, he could still see the wariness in her eyes. Wariness that hadn’t been there before. “Are you kidding? I’m not remotely exasperated.”

Exasperated, no. Dumbfounded, yes. Naturally he kept quiet while she fiddled around, learning where the gauges and controls were, and finally putting the baby in gear. Most people test-drove vehicles in daylight and perfect conditions, but Andy had cleaned up after too many car crashes. Her seeing how the vehicle handled on snow-crusted roads at night was a prizewinning idea, in his view. Only she’d had enough after one round-the-block.

He made her drive it on the highway for a good ten miles, then cajoled her into handling it in an empty iceslick parking lot. But that was all he could talk her into. Actually, he thought the vehicle was a good choice for her and Harvey was likely to make the best deal—he’d never have brought her here otherwise. He just couldn’t believe any woman could make up her mind faster than a speeding comet—much less stick to it.

Harvey was waiting outside when they drove back in, wearing a three-hundred-watt smile to help light the night. “You loved it, didn’t you? I just knew you would. And I’ll help you all through the financing, little lady, don’t you worry about a thing. You’ve picked a great car, a really great car—”

“Harvey,” Maggie said gently, “we’re not going to survive the next five minutes together if you call me ‘little lady’ or ‘honey’ again. Just call me Maggie, okay?”

Twenty degrees, tops, wind so mean it had to be twenty below with the wind chill, but Harvey’s forehead abruptly beaded sweat. “Of course, Maggie—”

“And I won’t need financing. I’ll pay you in cash.”

Harvey’s jaw dropped. Hell, so did Andy’s.

“Well, not cash,” she swiftly corrected herself. “I meant a check. I don’t actually have that kind of cash on me. But a check’s okay, isn’t it?” Her gaze darted from one man to the other. “I mean...I assume I can’t drive it home, that you’ll have to call the bank tomorrow to make sure it clears and all, but...”

“Um, Maggie...” Andy swept an arm around her shoulder to steer her out of Harvey’s earshot. He wasn’t sure what to say—not without bucking into her pride—and those shoulders of hers were stiff, that beautiful jaw of hers jutting at an awfully defensive angle. “Sweet pea, I’m getting the feeling that maybe you haven’t bought too many cars before?”