He glanced at her. “You’re lucky you have so much family around.” The pain in his expression had been replaced by curiosity. “Tell me more about them. What do Milo and Gregor do when they’re not hazing newcomers?”
He probably wanted to change the subject from his past. She was happy to oblige. She talked about her brothers for half an hour—things that Enzo would find out on his own anyway. No harm in that. Milo was the mechanic in the family, he’d been married for eight months, and he could take down a cow for branding without breaking a sweat.
Gregor knew everything there was to know about crop rotation, soil pH, and how to prevent any number of plant ailments. Her mother had a nursing background and took care of most illnesses and accidents that popped up. She was also in charge of rotating help through the kitchen to cook meals for the harvesters.
To Enzo’s credit, he seemed interested in her family. And interested in her. He kept asking her questions about herself and the places she’d worked. Maybe it was a mistake to tell him that she’d helped deliver calves on more than one ranch. Descriptions of how she’d had to untangle hooves weren’t really romantic subjects. But he didn’t laugh when she told him she didn’t like eating beef because she always thought of the calves’ big brown eyes.
He asked her how the family had rescued Callum, and even though she hated thinking about that day, she found herself opening up and telling Enzo everything that had happened—except that her father had told her to take the matches.
“I still feel bad that I stood there frozen. Zia and Milo were so fearless the entire time. I should be more like that.” As soon as she said the words, she regretted saying them. She should be trying to impress Enzo, not giving him an exposé on her shortcomings.
His eyes remained understanding, though. “Most people would hesitate in that situation, especially when it meant burning someone who might be a captive. I’m sure he wasn’t, by the way. The other captives would’ve been upset about his death if he’d been one of them. They weren’t, were they?”
“No,” she said and felt a little better about the fact.
“Is this the first time Milo or Zia have done something like this? I mean, do they have more experience with hard situations?”
What an odd question. “That was the first time any of us had to escape from slavers.” She suddenly realized why Enzo was asking. “Living in the country has its challenges, but it usually isn’tthatdangerous. As long as we travel as a group, and keep our weapons on us, people leave us alone. You don’t have to worry.”
As though her words had challenged fate, a few minutes later the Jeep’s engine began sputtering. Something under the hood hissed. Enzo slowed down, his brows furrowing at the dashboard. “The radiator light came on.”
Charity scooted over to get a better look, and her stomach sank. The symbol was indeed glowing, and the engine was running hot.
Enzo continued to slow the Jeep. “When was the last time someone checked the radiator fluid?”
“Milo checks all the vehicles before we leave.”
Enzo guided the Jeep to the side of the road and stopped. The trucks ahead of them kept going, unaware of their detour. She tried her phone in the faint hope it would have service. No such luck. She had no way to let her family know they’d pulled over.
Enzo found the button to pop the hood. “Milo’s not the sort to take a joke so far he’d leave the two of us stranded out here, would he?”
“No. My mother would kill him if he did.” Charity glanced around the trees that lined the road. No sign of anyone. And really, what were the chances that raiders or slavers would be in the exact spot where their car had problems?
Still, she held the Glock tightly.
The two climbed out of the Jeep and propped open the hood. He unscrewed the radiator cap and checked the level. Low. This just kept getting better.
“There must be a leak,” Enzo said. “I don’t suppose you’ve got a spare radiator hose in the back of the Jeep.”
She shook her head. “If we have any, they’d be with Milo.” She glanced down the road, the last truck in the caravan was long gone.
Enzo wiped a stray spot of grease off his fingers. “Call him and ask.”
“There’s no service out here. Only farming compounds and cities have cell phone towers.”
He cocked his head. “You roam around the countryside and don’t have a satellite phone?”
Spoken like someone who’d never been poor. “Those are expensive.” Besides, the government could track phones. Their family continually switched them out.
His eyebrows were still lifted in disbelief. “You don’t have any way to contact people in case of emergency?”
“The last truck will notice we’re not behind them anymore, and they’ll let the others know. Someone will come back for us soon.” She cast another look down the empty road. No one had noticed their absence yet. “If the problem is that the fluid is low, can we put water in?”
“Yes, but we’ve got an hour’s drive still, and it will leak the entire way.”
She strode to the back of the Jeep and pulled the water bottles from her pack. “Then it’s a good thing we brought extra.”
His gaze flicked to the bottles in her hand and for a moment his eyes narrowed. The expression left his face so quickly, she wondered if she’d imagined it. He smiled and took the bottles from her. “Yes, it’s a good thing.”