Tools made quick work of removing most of the parts. I examined things as I took them apart. The way the oil flowed through the system was ingenious. There were a few other systems I needed to figure out: fuel and coolant. But the overall picture was simpler than I'd imagined.
Several of the rejected men watched from the porch but I didn't pay them much attention. I was waiting. Gabby had made her intention to leave clear. She'd show up eventually.
As soon as she walked out the door, my gut clenched again as her scent drifted to me.
Son, I acknowledge your interest. There was a brief pause before Elder Sam's voice continued in my head. I do hope you know how to put my truck back together when you're done.
I didn't acknowledge him. Instead, I continued to use the ratchet. My hand started to shake again. She had no idea how desperate I was for any sign of acceptance from her. Just one sign. Any sign.
"Gabby, honey," I heard him say. "I don't think he wants you to go just yet."
"There's more than one vehicle here," she said.
I swallowed hard. That wasn't what I'd hoped for. She was afraid, I reminded myself. She just needed time.
"If we go inside to ask anyone else, we'll come back to more vehicular murder," Sam said.
He was right. I wasn't about to give her up. She was mine.
"Fine," she said. Not looking was killing me. I glanced up as she stepped off the porch and marched toward the main gate.
"You won't get far," Sam said.
She hesitated at the edge of the yard light then plunged into the darkness that surrounded the driveway. It didn't take long for her to disappear from sight, and I ceased ratcheting to listen. She didn't stop walking as I'd hoped she would.
When she reached the point where I couldn't hear her anymore, I set the tools aside and started to follow. Her scent led me. I wouldn't lose her.