Free Always Conall (Bitterroot #2) by Sibylla Matilde Page B

list of contacts, I saw my mom, who would be utterly useless, even on a good day.
    And I saw Conall.
    My thumb hovered over the screen for a moment.
    A really long moment.
    While it hovered, I thought about a tow truck. Then I thought about the expense involved. Expense that I didn’t have the budget for.
    So I finally lowered my thumb and called Conall.
    Of course, unlike Brynn or Kian, he answered right away.
    “Sage? What’s up?”
    “Um, hey,” I murmured. “It’s not an emergency, but I didn’t know who else to call.”
    “What’s going on? Everything okay?”
    “Not really. My car… died.”
    “What, like it won’t start?”
    “It runs , it just doesn’t… go.” I was far from a mechanic, so I really had no clue how to describe the issue.
    “What do you mean, it doesn’t go?”
    “I put it in gear, I step on the gas, and it doesn’t go.”
    “Do you need a ride?”
    “Well, if you don’t mind… we’re stuck a few miles out of town.”
    “We? You have Mattie with you?”
    “Yeah,” I responded. “She’s zonked out in the backseat.”
    “I’ll be right there. Where are you?”
    “Down towards the canyon… just before Garnet Road.”
    “Give me ten minutes.”
    “Thanks, Conall,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
    “Not a big deal,” he replied and disconnected.
    The sun was just starting to graze the mountaintops when he arrived, just under ten minutes later. As he pulled up behind my car, I got out to talk to him without disturbing Mattie too much, since she was still snoring like crazy in her car seat.
    “Have you been having trouble with your transmission?” he asked as he climbed out of a big, dark blue, relatively new, Chevy pickup.
    “Kian said something about wanting to take a look at it the other day, but I didn’t want to bug him.”
    Conall lifted his eyebrow. “Should have bugged him, honey.”
    He dropped to the ground and looked underneath, then stood and slid in the driver seat (after moving it way back to allow room for his massive form). Starting the car up, he slipped it into gear, and…
    Nothing.
    He looked at the odometer which read just under a hundred-thirty thousand miles. “Has it been slipping or anything when the gears shift? Like when you’re driving on the highway.”
    “I hardly drive on the highway, usually just to and from work.”
    “How about if it’s cold? Does it seem to hesitate a little when you step on the gas?”
    “ Um, maybe?”
    “ Any weird noises?”
    “ Not really. It was fine when I was driving, but I had to stop for a minute. Then it made a loud clunky sound when I tried to put it back in gear.”
    “I think your tranny is blown.”
    “That’s expensive to fix, isn’t it?”
    “It ’s probably more expensive to fix than your car is worth. It’s also pretty typical for a car of this make and model that’s over a hundred-thousand miles.”
    I dropped my head into my hands. “Dammit…” I groaned. “I just needed it to last a little bit longer.”
    “Mommy?” came Mattie’s sleepy little voice from the backseat. I poked my head inside the car to see her rubbing her eyes, before she looked closer at who was in the driver’s seat. “Conall?” she smiled drowsily.
    “Hey, kiddo,” Conall smiled into the rearview mirror. “Surprise.”
    Mattie rubbed her eyes again, as though to make sure he was real and sitting there in the driver seat of my car.
    “Mommy, it’s Conall.”
    “I know, sweetie,” I replied and turned to look over at him, latently realizing that he was very, very close. Like kissably close. In a rush, I pulled back and stood all at once, managing to schmuck the back of my head nice and hard on the doorframe.
    So graceful.
    As I rubbed my bumped noggin, I glanced over at Conall to see a smile playing at the corner of his lips, clearly amused by my clumsiness. And his smile only grew as I scowled back.
    He climbed out of the driver seat and looked down at me. “I’ll give you guys a ride home, and