The Price of Trust - Sneak Peek!

Chapter 1



One more mile. Please, Lord, take me just one more mile, Carly prayed,



trying to coax the wheezing junker to the next town. Without realizing



it, she was rocking back and forth to encourage the old car to



keep up the speed. It wasn't working. Going slower and slower, she



was afraid that she was going to stall out on the exit ramp. She didn't



stop praying until she reached the dingy service station that was next



to the ramp. The car stalled as she pulled into a parking space.



Thank you so much, Lord. Thank you so much. She prayed with a



sigh of relief. Now will you please take me to where you want me to go? I



don't know anyone, and I have to be careful with the little money I've got



left. Please let me know what you want me to do, she prayed under her



breath as she got out of the wreck that belonged to her.



A man in dirty overalls came out, wiping his hands on an old



grease rag.



"Excuse me, but I noticed your car. Is there anything I can do for



you?" he asked, looking her up and down warily.



She was used to stares. Especially in little towns like this one.



Newcomers were rare, and most places she'd been, they didn't trust



new people right away but looked at them with suspicion. She gave



him her best smile and decided to be as comfortable with him as



possible.



"Well, I'm not so sure what you can do to fix that old junk, but



maybe you could possibly point me to the nearest place to find something



to eat, and then I'll decide what to do with it. Will it be okay



where it's at for now?"



"Yeah, it'll be okay there for now. But you'll have to take care of



it later. The owner doesn't like people just leaving their stuff lying



around. There's a diner across the street," the mechanic said, turning



around and walking back into the garage.



Nice fellow. Not talkative, but not rude. That was a change from



the last place she'd been. She'd been to so many she was a little tired



of new places. She wished and prayed that maybe she could stay here



longer than the last place. She wanted to belong somewhere. Stop



running. Just stay and be happy. But it didn't seem likely to happen



any time soon. She sighed.



"Thanks," she called after him. She turned, and crossed the



street to the diner. Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door



and walked in. Everyone turned to stare at her. Whew! What a way



to make people nervous! She smiled bravely and seated herself at the



counter.



"May I help ya?" a waitress asked with a drawl.



"Well, I'd like a bowl of soup and water please. And could you



tell me if there's a junkyard around here? I've got a donation for



them," she said, smiling sardonically.



The waitress proved to be more talkative and friendly than the



mechanic.



"Well, we've got two junkyards, but they're run by the same family,



so you won't get much from them. They're pretty stingy when it



comes to paying for junk cars. Or anything for that matter. You new



in town?" the waitress asked while pouring her water. It always made



her nervous when people asked questions. They always wanted to



know more than she could or would tell them.



"Yeah, I just arrived. Do you know of anyone that's looking for



some help?" she asked, trying to curb the waitress's curiosity.



"Hey there, Sandy! Could I have another cup of coffee over here,



or are you going to jaw away the day and let your customers die of



thirst?" a man in a booth called out good-naturedly, waving his coffee



cup in the air.



"Aw, come on George! I'll get to ya! When have I ever let ya



down?" Sandy answered. George guffawed in return. "I'm not too



sure about any jobs around here. Are you lookin' for anything special?"



Sandy called to her while pouring George's coffee. Carly turned



red. She wasn't used to small town people who weren't too worried



about keeping things private. "George, ya know anyone that's lookin'



for some help?" Sandy asked loud enough for everyone to hear.



George smirked. "Well, depends on what she's looking for. I



hear them junkyard people are looking for someone to work in their



'office.'"



"I wouldn't send her to those people! They're mean! They just



ain't right. In fact … " Sandy trailed off as the door swung open and



the diner bell tinkled. A bulky man walked in. Carly looked at him as



he came in and sat two stools down from her. He was really big with



black hair, a belly that hung over his waistband, scruff on his chin,



and a mean hard look in his eyes.



"Sandy!" the new man barked needlessly. A silence had fallen



over the diner as soon as he walked in. Carly noticed that a few



customers were leaving, quickly paying their bills and leaving their



tips strewn on their tables. God had blessed Carly with an uncanny



ability to figure out people, and most of the time, she could tell if



they were to be trusted, if they were honest, or if she should stay away



from them. Sometimes she made a mistake, but it wasn't very often.



She didn't trust or like this man sitting by her at all, so she quickly ate



her soup, hoping that he would continue to ignore her.



"Yes, Bob. May I help ya?" Sandy asked very quietly and not as



friendly as she had been with the other customers. Carly could tell



that many people were afraid of this man. She wondered who he was



and where he figured in this little town.



"Give me my usual." And that was it. No please. No thank you.



Nothing. Just rudeness. Without looking at her, he asked, "Is that



your piece of junk sitting at my garage?"



Carly assumed, correctly, that he was talking to her.



"Yes, sir. I was just going to get in touch with the junkyard, and



I'll have it taken off your property," Carly stammered, turning red.



"Well then you'll be talking to me, seeing as I'm the owner of



the junkyard." He sneered meanly. "What do ya want?" he asked as



Sandy brought his food, and he began to eat noisily.



Lord, please help me, she prayed silently, disgusted with this man



and his manners. "Well, how much will you give me for it?" she asked



bravely.



"I'll give ya fifty bucks for it, and that's it," he said, dribbling food



out of the corners of his mouth.



Repulsed, Carly replied, "That's fine. Thank you. I just have to



get my stuff out of it."



He looked at her for the first time. "If you mean the radio or



anything that is part of the car, you better leave it," he warned, his



eyes hard on her.



"No, I just meant my clothes and stuff like that," Carly stuttered,



astounded at his rudeness.



"You're new in town, aren't ya? I would have recognized that hair



anywhere," he said, laughing at Carly's red hair. Carly had always



been a little oversensitive about her hair. The kids in her schools had



always made fun of it, and this man making fun of her didn't endear



him to her either. She held her head higher and looked at him defiantly.



She wasn't going to let this guy get the best of her.



"I'll go empty my car right now," Carly answered, leaving her



money on the counter for Sandy to pick up. He laughed at her as she



walked out the door.