“I was passing by on my way home. Saw you lying in your driveway under your car and I thought, well, either A, you had run over yourself, in which case you’d have a story I couldn’t miss hearing.” He used his left hand to tip his hat back. No wedding ring. His smile took on a hint of teasing. “Or B, I thought maybe you could use a hand.”
He would have laughed if she’d said something about her silly situation while backing out and she sort of wished she’d done it now. There could be worse things than planting herself in this guy’s memory. She swept back the fringe of her shaggy bangs, and stole a peek at the man’s hunter-green truck parked at the end of her driveway with the painted logo Goodacre Organic Farm. The Farmer Sows the Word. Mark 4:14.
“B, definitely B.” Polly smiled. A farmer and a Christian—who better to deal with one of God’s creatures? “I could use some help, thank you.”
“I’d be happy to take a look.” He squatted down, sweeping his hat off as he did. Suddenly they were at eye level. And what warm brown eyes they were.
“I have to admit I don’t know a lot about fixing cars, but I’m willing to give it a go.” He settled the hat on the drive, then ran his hand back through the short-ish waves of sandy-brown hair. “What’s the problem? Loose muffler? Oil leak?”
He bent down low to peer under the car. A cold nose thrust forward, a flash of tongue.
“Scared dog,” Polly said, her timing just a bit off.
“Hey!” The man whipped his large hand across his chin and nailed Polly with a stunned look. “There’s a dog under there.”
“I know. That’s who I was talking to.” Hadn’t she made that clear? The second she’d laid eyes on her champion farmer she’d had a hard time following the conversation. “Can you help me coax him out?”
“Does he bite?”
“He hasn’t bitten me.” She pressed her lips together to launch into a more thorough explanation, but he didn’t give her time.
“All right, I’ll give it a try.” He clapped his hands together.
A soft woof came from beneath the car.
Polly sucked air between her teeth. “Thanks, I really appreciate your coming to our rescue. I guess this is one of the benefits of small-town living.”
He opened his mouth to say something, but instead a woman’s voice called out, “Hey, Sam! Need any help?”
“Got it under control, thanks!” The man, whose name was Sam, it seemed, waved back. He gave Polly a wry look, clearly not quite put out, not quite thrilled with the attention they had drawn. “Another ‘benefit’ of small-town life—wherever you go … there you are.”
Polly gave a light laugh at the oversimplification of his frustration with being spotted.
“More precisely, there your friends are, or your family, or your pastor.” He gave a shrug, then nodded to the car tag sporting a frame from an Atlanta auto dealer on the back of her little red car. “Not the kind of thing you have to worry about where you’re from, I guess.”
“Or here, actually. I’m Polly Bennett, by the way.” She held out her hand.
“Sam Goodacre.” He took her hand in his.
Their eyes met and held. She had been in town for all of a few hours and already met a guy who made her heart race. So much for taking things at a slower pace here. She drew in a deep breath of fresh summer air. “It’s good to meet you. I just—”
A pathetic whimper from under the car kept her from launching into her story.
“Why don’t you go around to the other side of the car in case he heads that direction?” Sam directed her by drawing a circle with one finger.
Polly nodded and hurried around to the other side of the car and started to get down on one knee, but before she could, Sam’s head popped up over the roof of her small vehicle.
“Got him.” He lifted the dog up. Floppy ears and tongue flapped out, all landing in Sam’s smiling face. “Yeah, yeah. No need to get all mushy about it … What’s his name?”
She gave a big sigh at the overload of adorableness, then shifted her gaze to the pup. “I don’t know.”
“What?”
“He’s a stray,” she admitted, twisting her hands together. “I just saw him around earlier today. Then when I opened the door to check on him, he ran inside, then back outside and now I can’t … I just … I couldn’t …”
“Don’t tell me. You’ve fallen in love with him already.”
“Don’t you believe in love at first sight?” Okay, that was way too flirty to say to a man she’d just met. Still, Polly tipped her head to one side and waited for his answer.
“Believe in it?” He lowered the dog out of face-licking range and gave a resigned kind of smile, his brown eyes framed by the faint beginnings of laugh lines. “I think it’s unavoidable.”
Her pulse went from racing to practically ricocheting through her body.
“Especially when you’re talking about a little lost dog as cute as this.” He looked down and rubbed the dog behind the ears, then came around the front end of the car to bring the animal to her.
“Of course.” Polly let out a breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding. “I still want to try to find who he belongs to, of course, but if nobody claims him …”
“He’s a lucky dog.” He bundled the dog into her waiting arms.
“I don’t believe in luck.” She ran her fingers along the dog’s smooth, silky ear. “I believe in God’s blessings.”
“I’ve had a few of those in my life.” He nodded but didn’t offer any further explanation, just turned and headed for his truck.
“So …” Polly looked up and down the street, not sure what to do next. Her gaze fell on the truck. “Oh! Do you know … I mean, it’s about food.”
“I have been known to eat food, yes.” He patted his flat stomach even as he slowed his pace slightly and spoke to her over his shoulder. “What do you want to know?”
I want to know that everything is going to work out fine. I want to know if I made the right choice moving here. I want to know when I’ll see you again. “I don’t have any dog food in the house, so I was going to take him with me to grab a fast-food burger. Do you think it would be okay if he ate one of those?”
“I think it would be okay if you ate one of them.” He shook his head and scratched his fingers through his thick, light brown hair. “But there’s a gas station with a little fresh market near the burger place. You can get a can of dog food there—for him. You should probably stick with the burger.”
She laughed. “Thanks, and thanks for your help.”
“Glad to do it.” He started toward his truck again, tossing off a friendly wave. “Nice to have met you. Both of you.”
“You, too, from both of us.” She took the dog’s paw and waved it.
He opened the driver’s side door to climb in, then paused and leaned inside the cab, as if looking for something.
“That right there—” she whispered with her cheek pressed against the animal’s head “—is the whole reason I came back to Baconburg.”
She didn’t mean the man. She meant the man’s willingness to take time out of his own schedule to help a stranger. Okay, Polly could not lie, even to