A man stepped out.
Tall.
Broad shoulders.
Dark winter work jacket.
Snow collected quickly in his brown hair.
He did something that made her relax slightly.
He stayed several feet away from the vehicle and held both hands where she could see them.
“You okay?”
The woman lowered the window only a few inches.
“My car died.”
“Roadside assistance coming?”
“In approximately the next century.”
The man smiled.
It changed his entire face.
“I can take a look if you want.”
“You know cars?”
He pointed toward his pickup.
“Mechanic.”
She looked at him.
Then at the snow.
Then at the useless dashboard.
“You could also just be saying that.”
“True.”
That answer surprised her.
He continued.
“You can stay locked inside. I’ll look under the hood. If you don’t like anything I do, call somebody.”
The woman studied him.
His expression was calm.
Not pushy.
She unlocked the door.
“I have pepper spray.”
The man nodded seriously.
“Good.”
She stepped out.
The cold hit instantly.
Snow landed across her fur jacket and platinum hair.
The mechanic looked once at her tall boots.
Then at the icy shoulder.
“You’re going to fall.”
“I am not.”
She took one step.
Her heel slipped.
His hand caught her elbow.
For half a second, they were very close.
She looked up.
He looked down.
Neither moved immediately.
The woman felt heat rise through her face despite the freezing air.
The mechanic slowly released her.
“Careful.”
She cleared her throat.
“I had it.”
“Absolutely.”
His smile told her he did not believe that at all.
She opened the hood.
He retrieved a flashlight and small tool roll from the pickup.
Within seconds, his entire posture changed.
Focused.
Confident.
Hands moving automatically through wires, connectors, and hoses.
The woman stood beside him, arms folded against the cold.
“What do you think?”
“Give me a minute.”
“You said mechanic like this would be easy.”
He glanced sideways.
“I said mechanic, not wizard.”
She smiled.
He returned to the engine.
The flashlight moved across the compartment.
He checked the battery terminals.
A belt.
A cable.
Then he asked her to start the engine.
She climbed inside.
Click.
Nothing.
He leaned farther beneath the hood.
“Again.”
Click.
The woman looked through the windshield at him.
Snow covered his shoulders.
His sleeves were pushed up enough to expose strong forearms already marked with grease.
Her eyes stayed there longer than necessary.
She immediately looked away.
“This is ridiculous,” she whispered to herself.
He tapped the glass.
She rolled down the window.
“Alternator connection is failing and your battery is almost gone.”
“Translation?”
“You’re not driving far unless I convince this thing to cooperate.”
“Can you?”
He smiled.
“Maybe.”
“Very comforting.”
He worked for another ten minutes.
The woman eventually stepped beside him again.