told Mom our refrigerator couldn't be fixed."
"You fixed it?"
"I am proud to say that refrigerator brought us fifty dollars. A neighbor bought it before we left town."
Beautiful, funny, and talented beyond Dalton's comprehension. He knew what a spark plug looked like, but that was where it ended. They could have used Colleen in the early days. Calling their first tour bus unreliable put it mildly. More often than not, the money they earned from a gig was put right back into their transportation. Colleen would have saved them a fortune in repairs.
Over the next hour, Colleen explained how close she had come to leaving Midas. Her mother's illness. And starting over again.
"I've seen my last Midas summer," she said with a firm nod. "If I lose it all tomorrow, nothing is keeping me here."
"Where will you go?"
When Colleen hesitated, Dalton wondered if she had reached the edge of her boundaries. Then she continued—cautiously.
"I've never told anyone."
"I won't be offended if you want to keep it to yourself." This time, when his hand moved, it was to take hold of hers.
"I'm afraid." A burst of air rushed from Colleen's lungs. "That's something I never admit—not even to myself."
"Change is scary."
"I want a change," Colleen said, her eyes burning with emotion. "I want different. But…"
Dalton's grip tightened. "Tell me."
"What if I'm not supposed to get out of here, Dalton? What if this is it for me? Day after day of working for Dole. My mother says I should get married. Have a few babies. That will make me happy."
"What did you say?"
"If I weren't afraid of hurting her feelings? How did that work out for you, Mom? Instead, I smiled, nodded, and mentally crossed off another day."
"You'll get out, Colleen."
Colleen stared at some invisible point over Dalton's shoulder. When her gaze returned to his, the emotion was there, but it had dimmed considerably.
"I should have left when I was eighteen. But Mom begged me to stay one more year while she got the salon on firmer ground. Then I decided to take some classes in Phoenix. I'm glad I did. I learned a lot. That was when I started refurbishing the Thunderbird. I found it dirt cheap. I promised myself as soon as I finished, I was out of here."
"Your mother became ill, Colleen."
"And now she isn't." Earnestly, Colleen sat forward, both hands gripping his. "It has to happen this time."
"Breathe," Dalton urged. "That's right. In and out. In and out."
Gradually, Colleen's shoulders relaxed and the death grip on his hand loosened.
"That wasn't the least bit embarrassing," Colleen cringed. She tried to pull away, but Dalton held on. "Was that a panic attack? Great. Mental instability. Just what I need."
"You aren't unbalanced," Dalton said with calm certainty. He knew what that looked like, and Colleen didn't come close to qualifying. "You needed to vent, which you did quite nicely."
"Thank you for listening." Taking another deep breath, she smiled—genuinely smiled.
"Better?"
"Much."
"Good." Lifting her hand, Dalton kissed the back. "Ready to finish?"
"First. Do that again." When he lightly brushed his lips across her fingers, Colleen sighed. "That's nice."
"Second?" Dalton let her take back her hand.
Colleen frowned, then her smile brightened her entire face. "Right. Second. Am I ready to finish what?"
"You were going to tell me your dream? What will you do when you leave Midas, Colleen?"
Dalton thought he knew the answer, but he wanted to hear the words from her.
Colleen's smile turned into a grin. "I am going to be the best damn classic car restorer in the country. Eventually, the world."
It made perfect sense. Dalton knew first hand that Colleen had the skill to make her dream come true.
"I would say it's a sure bet."
"You think so?"
"My money is on you."
"WHAT IS HE doing in Midas?"
"Having dinner." The second the words were out of Drum Anders' mouth, he wished them back.
There was a long pause. "Was that an attempt at humor?"
More like
"You fixed it?"
"I am proud to say that refrigerator brought us fifty dollars. A neighbor bought it before we left town."
Beautiful, funny, and talented beyond Dalton's comprehension. He knew what a spark plug looked like, but that was where it ended. They could have used Colleen in the early days. Calling their first tour bus unreliable put it mildly. More often than not, the money they earned from a gig was put right back into their transportation. Colleen would have saved them a fortune in repairs.
Over the next hour, Colleen explained how close she had come to leaving Midas. Her mother's illness. And starting over again.
"I've seen my last Midas summer," she said with a firm nod. "If I lose it all tomorrow, nothing is keeping me here."
"Where will you go?"
When Colleen hesitated, Dalton wondered if she had reached the edge of her boundaries. Then she continued—cautiously.
"I've never told anyone."
"I won't be offended if you want to keep it to yourself." This time, when his hand moved, it was to take hold of hers.
"I'm afraid." A burst of air rushed from Colleen's lungs. "That's something I never admit—not even to myself."
"Change is scary."
"I want a change," Colleen said, her eyes burning with emotion. "I want different. But…"
Dalton's grip tightened. "Tell me."
"What if I'm not supposed to get out of here, Dalton? What if this is it for me? Day after day of working for Dole. My mother says I should get married. Have a few babies. That will make me happy."
"What did you say?"
"If I weren't afraid of hurting her feelings? How did that work out for you, Mom? Instead, I smiled, nodded, and mentally crossed off another day."
"You'll get out, Colleen."
Colleen stared at some invisible point over Dalton's shoulder. When her gaze returned to his, the emotion was there, but it had dimmed considerably.
"I should have left when I was eighteen. But Mom begged me to stay one more year while she got the salon on firmer ground. Then I decided to take some classes in Phoenix. I'm glad I did. I learned a lot. That was when I started refurbishing the Thunderbird. I found it dirt cheap. I promised myself as soon as I finished, I was out of here."
"Your mother became ill, Colleen."
"And now she isn't." Earnestly, Colleen sat forward, both hands gripping his. "It has to happen this time."
"Breathe," Dalton urged. "That's right. In and out. In and out."
Gradually, Colleen's shoulders relaxed and the death grip on his hand loosened.
"That wasn't the least bit embarrassing," Colleen cringed. She tried to pull away, but Dalton held on. "Was that a panic attack? Great. Mental instability. Just what I need."
"You aren't unbalanced," Dalton said with calm certainty. He knew what that looked like, and Colleen didn't come close to qualifying. "You needed to vent, which you did quite nicely."
"Thank you for listening." Taking another deep breath, she smiled—genuinely smiled.
"Better?"
"Much."
"Good." Lifting her hand, Dalton kissed the back. "Ready to finish?"
"First. Do that again." When he lightly brushed his lips across her fingers, Colleen sighed. "That's nice."
"Second?" Dalton let her take back her hand.
Colleen frowned, then her smile brightened her entire face. "Right. Second. Am I ready to finish what?"
"You were going to tell me your dream? What will you do when you leave Midas, Colleen?"
Dalton thought he knew the answer, but he wanted to hear the words from her.
Colleen's smile turned into a grin. "I am going to be the best damn classic car restorer in the country. Eventually, the world."
It made perfect sense. Dalton knew first hand that Colleen had the skill to make her dream come true.
"I would say it's a sure bet."
"You think so?"
"My money is on you."
"WHAT IS HE doing in Midas?"
"Having dinner." The second the words were out of Drum Anders' mouth, he wished them back.
There was a long pause. "Was that an attempt at humor?"
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