Angel Song Read Online Free Page B

repay you right now—maybe not for several weeks.”
    “Who says you have to repay me?”
    “I do.” She glared at the raised, white block lettering on unsoiled tires. He hadn’t just splurged on a decent second-hand set; these were the mac-daddy, all-weather treads she’d dreamed of. Little nubs poked from the rubber to indicate the tires had never been used. How had he moved the sedan without soiling the tires—and without her noticing? Even from this distance she smelled new rubber. It reminded her of the bicycle shop Mama and Lorenzo Cantori had owned while she lived with them. “I can’t accept charity.”
    “Charity?” Jason shook his head and blew out a breath. “Quinn, I have a friend who’s a mechanic. He came by last night and towed the car to his shop, where he fixed it and then returned it to the lot. He didn’t charge anything for the work.”
    “Not even for the tow…or the tires?”
    “No.”
    “I don’t believe you, Jason. Tires are expensive, especially these tires. I know…I’ve been following the prices for a while now, searching for a good deal.”
    “Well, it seems to me you found one.” He pinched the bridge of his nose as if to stave off a headache. “Look, you can believe whatever you want, Quinn, but I’m telling you the truth. Steve didn’t mind helping out, and the cost was nil.”
    Quinn frowned. She’d done it again—let her temper get the best of her. Now she was calling the youth leader a liar. “I’m sorry.”
    “You apologize a lot, don’t you?”
    “I have to.” A smile tickled her lips. “I jam my foot into my mouth excessively, which precipitates the stream of apologies.”
    “Well, I’ll agree with that much.” He opened the driver’s door for her. “Crank it up…see how she sounds.”
    Quinn slipped into the seat and inserted the key into the ignition. One turn, and immediately she knew her problems—at least as far as the car went—were solved. The engine rumbled amicably, and she bet the tires would purr just as happily over freshly-plowed roads.
    “Mission accomplished.” Jason thumped the car’s hood and then dipped his head through the passenger window, grinning. “I’ll follow you home.”
    “On one condition…you come in for dinner.” She pressed the gas pedal and smiled as the engine revved. “It’s the least I can do to say thank you.”
    “Well, there is one other thing you could do…”
    Quinn froze. Here it comes—he’s going to guilt me into helping with the Christmas pageant. I knew this was too good to be true.
    “And what’s that?”
    “Your name.” Jason winked. “It would be nice to know your whole name.”
    “Oh.” How many times in one day would God convict her? “It’s Sanders…Quinn Sanders.”
    “Hello, Quinn Sanders.” He offered a slight wave along with a smile. “Thanks for the invitation. I’d love to share dinner with you.”
     
    ****
     
    “So, how did you happen to begin working at the diner?” Jason took another bite of his sandwich and washed it down with a sip of coffee.
    “Linsey and I stopped by there for dinner our first day in town. I saw the sign, asked a few questions, and Gus hired me on the spot.”
    “It must be quite a change from…”
    “Jacksonville.”
    “Ah, from sunny shores to snowy banks. And from teaching to—”
    “Serving food at the corner diner?”
    “Well, it does make one wonder…what brought you here?”
    “Budget cuts eliminated a handful of teaching positions, including mine.” She swiped a hand across her brow. “I grew up not far from here, and I thought I might have better luck finding a job.” Quinn glanced at Linsey. “Besides, I wanted to raise my daughter here.”
    “And are you…home?”
    “The jury’s still out on that.” She shrugged. “It depends on whether a teaching position opens. A new semester will start next month, and I’ve been interviewing, so maybe I’ll hear something soon. I can’t stay at the diner