The Twin Bargain. Lisa Carter

pass. He felt as cut off as the stars shimmering dully in the fading night sky.

      As much as he dared, he accelerated around the winding curves. It would do no one any good if he wrecked. It’d be daylight soon. If he didn’t find Amber at the college, he’d retrace the country road. But what should he look for?

      Broken branches? A damaged railing? Signs that a vehicle had plunged into a chasm.

       Don’t go there.

      Gripping the handlebars of the bike, his knuckles turned white. As he pressed on, wisps of light streaked the horizon.

      And like a film reel, those carefree, happy days in high school replayed in his mind. The Fabulous Four—Matt, Amber, Amber’s best friend, Callie, and himself. The summer rafting expeditions. Football games.

      Yet one image dominated his memories. A seemingly insignificant moment. A beautiful spring day. Amber and Callie had been sixteen. The four of them had hiked to a nearby meadow for a picnic.

      Birdsong had called Matt and Callie away toward the gurgling melody of the fast-flowing river. Lounging at the foot of a tree, at the sound of Amber’s laugh he’d glanced up. In the grass on the edge of the quilt, she’d found a blue jay feather, its hue not dissimilar to the shade of her eyes.

      Sunlight streamed around her, lightening her hair. Causing it to glow. Tucking the feather behind his ear, she’d smiled at him.

      And that was what he remembered when he thought of Amber—sunshine, warmth and a sense of well-being. Happiness...

      “Where are you, Amber?” he whispered. “What’s happened to you?” The wind tore his words away.

      But he knew. Same as what happened to him. Life had changed his sunshine girl into a woman he barely recognized.

      Heart pounding, he veered into the college campus. Please let her be okay. Please let her—

      Under the security light in the parking lot, he spotted what qualified as an old clunker.

      Veering into the empty space alongside the lone vehicle, he hopped off his bike. He dashed over. The glare of the streetlight silhouetted a single figure inside the car.

      He tried the handle. Locked. “Amber?” He pressed his face to the window.

      Was she okay? Leaning against the headrest, she appeared asleep, but frightened by her stillness, he rapped on the glass.

      Bolting upright, her arms flailed. She grabbed for the steering wheel.

      “Can you hear me, Amber?”

      She whipped around at the sound of his voice. Forehead furrowed, she shrank into the seat. He was disconcerted by the stark fear in her eyes.

      Ah. The helmet. Ripping it off, he held it under his arm and backed off a step. “It’s me.”

      Recognition dawned in those beautiful eyes of hers. “Ethan?” Her breath fogged the window. “What are you—”

      He motioned.

      Springing the lock, she thrust open the door. “Where am I?” Gulping, she glanced around.

      Disliking looming over her, he crouched in the opening, afraid to touch her. Afraid to further startle her.

      Her gaze darted from the darkened building to his motorcycle. Checking her wristwatch, she sucked in a breath. Panic flitted across her face. “I’m supposed to be at the Jar. The girls—”

      “GeorgeAnne’s with them. She and Grandma sent me to find you.”

      Her lower lip quivered. “I spent the entire night in my car?” Tears like dewdrops trembled on the edges of her lashes. “My girls must be so worried. So—”

      “Slow down, Amber. They were asleep when Grandma called. They probably don’t even know you aren’t there.”

      “I was supposed to take the girls to Before School Care. I’m already late. I can’t afford to lose this job...”

      The desperation in her voice hit him like a blow to the chest. “Do you feel unwell? Did you have car trouble?”

      She shook her head. Like corn silk, her hair glistened in the glow of the streetlamp. “I remember thinking I’d just close my eyes for a second—” She reached for the key chain dangling from the ignition.

      Amber cranked the key, but the motor didn’t turn over.

      Rising, his knees creaked. “Turn on the cab light.”

      “Why?” But she flicked the switch on the domed light above her head.

      Nothing happened. Just as he’d suspected.

      “Maybe the bulb’s burned out.”

      He rested his forearms against the door frame. “The battery’s dead, Amber.”

      She tried starting the engine again. “It can’t be dead. Give me a minute.”

      He shook his head. “The car’s dead. Come on, I’ll take you back to Truelove.”

      “I don’t need your help. I can drive myself.”

      So stubborn. So obstinate. So aggravating.

      Wait, hadn’t Grandma said the same about him yesterday?

      “Your car will have to be towed.”

      Her mouth went mulish. “I can’t afford a tow truck.” Then her shoulders sagged. “I’ve failed my children so much.”

      Bands of pink and gold brightened the sky.

      “Give yourself a break, Amber. Working full-time, going to school at night. Single parenting. Something’s got to give. You aren’t Superwoman.”

      She stared through the windshield. “I’m not a super anything.”

      It absolutely killed him to hear her talk like that about herself. And reverting to form, when he couldn’t fix something, he got angry.

      “Get out of the car. I’m taking you home.”

      Her expression turned furious. “You don’t get to tell me what to do, Ethan Green.”

      Widening his stance, he crossed his arms over his jacket. “Unless you want to miss your entire shift, I suggest you chuck that boulder-sized pride of yours and get on my Harley.”

      If looks could kill, he figured he would be struck stone dead on the spot.

      “Suit yourself—sit here all day...” Feigning nonchalance, he raised his palms. “Or after I drop you off, I could install a new battery for you.”

      Amber jutted her chin. “Seeing as you are so eager to leave Truelove in the dust again, I couldn’t ask you to do that for me.”

      “You’re not asking. I’m offering. It’s what friends do for each other.” He cocked his head. “We’ve always been friends. Or had you forgotten?”

      She gave him an inscrutable look. “I haven’t forgotten.”

      Guilt pricked his conscience. He should have kept in touch. But he’d been determined to put his own bad memories behind him when he joined the Corps. Amber had been unintentionally jettisoned, too. Collateral damage.

      Yet if there was anything from his broken childhood he would’ve wanted to carry with him, it would have been those wonderful times with the Flemings. They’d been good to him. Embracing him like one of their own.

      When he’d been seven, his dad had abandoned him and his mom, and they’d lived with his grandparents. Later when his mom moved away into a new life, Grandma had offered to let him stay with her so he could finish high school with his friends. It was a pattern with his grandmother. Maybe that was why she was trying so hard to help Amber finish her schooling.

      “Grandma’s still at the hospital.