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A Promise for Faith

By Stacy T. Simmons

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A geyser that could pass for Old Faithful’s miniature cousin spewed from Faith Fuller’s SUV’s hood. Nine hours into the drive to Briar Creek, North Carolina, Faith’s patience had grown parchment paper thin. Clutching the wheel, she pulled from the road and onto a stream’s pebbled shoreline. Faith alighted from the car and zipped up her jacket against the chill of the waning late afternoon sunlight. Flinging open the trunk, she pushed past Tetris piles of moving boxes and found her chef’s grade ovenproof mitts. Pushing them onto her hands, she shot a prayer for safety into the purpling sky and cranked wide the blue hood. Water sizzled and belched from the belly of the motor. An acrid chemical stench caused her eyes to water. Where to start? Faith’s knowledge of car mechanisms was severely limited. She moved to the side of the engine and inspected a large black hose. No water. Faith surveyed the tangle of tubes nearby, but nothing seemed wrong with her car other than a hissing spray of water. Is it the radiator? It was drier than her mom’s Sunday dinner biscuits. Marching to the rear of her SUV, she threw the mitts into the box and crossed her arms across her chest, eyeing the road for a sign of life.
A car’s motor droned on the other side of the hill. Faith’s eyes focused on the road, and she lifted a hand to wave. The gray sedan sped past. Her stalwart smile faded in the taillight’s afterglow. Faith pressed her glowing phone screen to make a call. Her shoulders sank. Zero bars. In imitation of her old hometown’s treasured statue, she held her phone aloft, like the Statue of Liberty and pivoted to try to get one single bar. Walking a few feet from her car, she tried again. The tall evergreens are blocking my reception. Will I have to walk into town?
“Need help?”
Instinctively, her muscles corded together, and Faith swallowed the last drop of moisture in her mouth and turned, her keys laced between each finger.
Him. Faith scrutinized his face, investigating any changes over the years. A wrinkle above one eye was new. Still had that beach-blonde-brown hair that didn’t like a comb and amazing green eyes. And ripped, strong arms.
Her past had become her present as the keys plummeted to the ground.
“I’ll get ‘em.” Caleb bent down to scoop them up and placed them in her hand. “How are you? It’s been, what, eight years?”
Eight years, five days, too many hours since we broke up. Faith batted the wispy end of a curl brushing her cheek. “I’m good. Busy.” Faith’s tympani-drum heart punched against her chest.
“What brings you here?”
“Visiting my best friend Taylor and her hubby.” Awakened embers of hurt fired through her body. “You live around here?”
“Briar Creek, not too far from Taylor and Jarod. I was coming back from the grocery store supercenter when I noticed the geyser.” He headed to the car, “Let’s have a look.”


“Okay.”
She followed at a distance. Caleb’s spicy cologne teased her nose and tightened her stomach. Arriving at the still-noisy car, steaming water ran from underneath in a river. She noticed a frown pulling on his lips.
“Looks like a water pump or broken hose.”
“Is there a gas station ahead?”
“In town, twenty miles away.”
Caleb pulled out his cell phone. Traitor, he has two bars.
“Hello. We need a tow,” Caleb closed the hood. His voice carried in the still air. “Belle’s, um, my friend’s car is beside the road, near the town marker sign, on Highway 194. You’re nearby? See you soon.”
Belle. He used to call me that when we were dating. She remembered their frequent visits to bookstores around New York City. They’d show each other the oddest books they could find. Faith always won, and that was how she earned the nickname “Belle,” after one of her favorite movie characters.
Caleb came closer. “He’s ten minutes away.” He pointed to her car. “This might take a while to fix. How long are you here?”
“A week.”
“Tay, Jarod and I are going kayaking tomorrow, you should come and see what I’ve been up to.”
Her veins iced. Boats. She and boats didn’t mix. “By rafting?”
“I’ll show you.”
He thumbed through photos on his phone and held it closer to Faith. She saw a wooden building with a bubbling river beyond. The visual did nothing to warm her chilled body.
“I own Hawk’s Creek Outfitters. We take clients rafting and kayaking.”
“Nice.”
“What’s going on with you? Still a test-kitchen chef in New York City?”
What do I say? I’m jobless, I was fired. Spin. Embellish. Weave a web. “I’m looking at other possibilities.”
“Here?”
“No. I’m taking a pit stop here to visit.”
Faith watched his bright smile fade under the curtains of his lips. Heat washed her face.
Over the din of the crickets, Caleb responded. “You loved New York and your job.”
“I’ve changed.”
“Seems so.”
Faith hugged herself as searing shame lit the exposed soft spots in her heart.
A grinding rumble sounded, and a tow truck eased toward them.
An overall-clad man leaped from the truck cab and assessed the scene. “Evening, I’ll get it ready to go to the mechanics in a jiffy.” He pulled on his nanny goat beard. “Wanna ride with me, young lady?”
Caleb stood in between Faith and the driver. “I’ll give her a ride, Chuck.”
“Can I borrow your phone? I need to contact Taylor.”
He handed her the phone and climbed into his car. “Sure.”
She tapped a message onto the keyboard. The phone began to thrum. Slanting her gaze toward the screen, Taylor’s face appeared.
Faith, whose phone is this?
I’m borrowing someone’s.
I’ll explain later. He’s waving to me to get in the car.
Okay, I can’t wait to hear all the story. See you soon.
Riding down the road in the sleek SUV, she watched every shimmy of her old Bessie, attached by flimsy chains to the back of the tow truck. She prayed the old girl would not fall apart and leave her stranded. Nervously, Faith picked at a hangnail.
“Hawk’s Creek is over there.”
Outlined in the greying night stood a party hat peaked roof and dull siding.
With the whirr of a button, her window slid down as spring mountain air moved around her, along with a gurgle of moving water. She eased back into the seat and held in a sigh.
“Shouldn’t be too bad tomorrow. With the rains, we’ll only get a few rapids.”
Shutting out the water’s call with a flick of the button, Faith’s hands dampened, and her heart galloped. He never knew what happened, and he never will. Pushing past her whirlpool of emotions, Faith placed a grin on her face as Caleb told her something funny. She’d deal with what tomorrow would bring later. On her own terms.

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