Hearts Awakened Read Online Free PDF Page A

belt involved.
    She sighed and shifted into reverse, backing down the long driveway. Yeah, all this whiny introspection was helping her pull herself out of the dumps.
    The little Miata zipped along the back road, deep green woods and wide flat fields flying past. Cotton, waiting for harvest, glowed white on defoliated plants, and on the other side of the road a tractor plowed rows of peanuts. Tori let her window down, allowing the rich scent of freshly turned peanuts to roll in. She took a deep breath of the much-loved smell, trying to relax. The wind massaged her scalp, running mischievous fingers through her hair.
    She passed the farmer’s market and waved at old Mr. Townsend, who was taking in his signs for the evening, his ancient truck waiting in the drive. If she actually knew how to cook, she’d consider stopping for squash, Vidalia onions and other goodies from the final bounty of local summer gardens. She probably should have taken Tick up on his offer of dinner. Instead, she’d end up with takeout or a frozen dinner.
    How appetizing.
    Slowing for a stop sign, she eyed the gray Blazer sitting in the grass along the road on the other side of the intersection. She knew the aging SUV as well as she knew her own Miata. The Blazer’s hood was up, the lower half of a male form visible on the driver’s side. Tori sighed. Cookie’s twenty-year-old truck had finally given up the ghost.
    Still stopped, she picked up her cell phone. No signal, which wasn’t unusual in this part of the county. She could turn around, run back to the farmer’s market, try to catch Mr. Townsend, or return to Tick’s, send him out to help Cookie.
    Or you could help him yourself. For heaven’s sake, Tori, you live in the same building.
    That meant allowing him into her car. Being alone with him. A shiver ran down her spine, although she couldn’t pinpoint fear or anticipation as the source.
    It’s Cookie. He’d never hurt you.
    She laughed off the thought. Like she was a judge of male character. Maybe the truck wasn’t disabled at all. Maybe it was all a ruse, designed to get someone to stop and—
    No. Not Cookie. She couldn’t believe that of him. She wouldn’t.
    The first step in getting past the fear is taking control of it. How often had she offered that little nugget of wisdom in a counseling session? Maybe it was time she embraced her own advice. Dread slithered through her, and on the steering wheel her hands grew damp. She could do this. She could be normal or at least look like it.
    Glancing both ways, she took her foot off the brake. Pressed the accelerator. Crossed the intersection. The lump in her stomach doubled in size. She eased her car in behind the Blazer, sucked in a deep breath and shut off her ignition. Inhaling again, she glanced at herself in the rearview mirror. Her wind-ruffled hair framed her face, her eyes wide and dark against the unusual pallor of her skin. She smoothed a hand over her hair.
    She could do this.
    She swung out of the car and walked toward the Blazer’s front end. Dressed in athletic shorts and a T-shirt, Cookie remained bent under the hood. Dark hair covered tight, muscular calves and her stomach performed its shivery little flip. Metal banged on metal and a muffled curse filled the air.
    Tori rested a hand on the sun-warmed side panel. “Having trouble?”
    He glanced up at her, his eyes irritated. “The crankshaft broke.”
    She had absolutely no clue what that meant, but it didn’t sound good. “Anything I can do?”
    Another sidelong glance at her. He opened his mouth, closed it and shook his head. “Not much anyone can do. I’ll have to buy a new engine.”
    She looked at the Blazer with its faded paint, cracked dashboard and forlorn air. Why not buy a new car? She didn’t understand the irrational attachment men formed to their vehicles. Sure, she liked her Miata, but she didn’t plan an until-death-did-them-part commitment to it.
    His fingers clenched around the wrench he