One Week in Maine

One Week in Maine

Shayna Ryan

Copyright © 2013

All Rights Reserved

For Ken, a f
latlander no more.

-1-

“Damn it!” I swore and smacked the ruined hood of my SUV. I hadn’t wanted to go on this trip to begin with, and now this. Who holds a wedding in the middle of nowhere, Maine, anyway? It had been a hellishly long drive from Connecticut and with another hundred miles or so to go before reaching my destination a deer had run out of the woods and into the road. It happened so quickly that I didn’t have time to so much as brake or swerve, and now there was a dead deer on the side of the road and my SUV was crumpled, bloody mess. A big car repair bill was the last thing I could afford right now. I lost my job when my former company downsized a few months ago, and even with my unemployment checks, I struggled to pay my bills. This was a disaster on many fronts, and a hassle that I just didn’t need.

I tried the ignition one more time
, but the engine refused to catch and made a wet, gurgling sound instead. Great. I was stuck in backwoods Maine on a lonely stretch of road with no help in sight.

“C’mon, c’mon!”
Out of desperation I checked my cell phone for a signal again but there wasn’t one, just like the last half dozen times I checked. I couldn’t call for help and I hadn’t passed another car in at least twenty minutes. Traffic was sparse at best on this road winding through the hills of south western Maine.

With a sigh of defeat
, I leaned my head back against the headrest and closed my eyes for a moment. Someone would be along eventually; I just had to be patient. If they looked okay maybe I’d ride into the nearest town with them, but if they made me even slightly nervous I’d just ask them to call for help while I stayed with my car. A woman, I decided suddenly. I’d ride with a woman but not a man, as long as the woman didn’t make me uncomfortable somehow.

Time ticked by slowly as
I strained to hear any approaching traffic, but none came. Finally I heard the sound of an approaching car, so I hopped out alongside my broken SUV and began waving my hands over my head to try to attract the driver’s attention. My heart sank when I realized it was an old, battered truck, covered in mud, with hunting decals on the front window. Even from a distance I could see the rifle rack hanging in the back of the cab.

“Fabulous.
Local hicks, just fabulous,” I muttered irritably to myself. No matter, I’d just turn on the charm. As a tall, slender, chestnut brunette, I could use my looks to my advantage when it suited me. This might be one of those situations. How hard could it be to sway one of these small town men to help me?

The truck was approaching in the opposite lane, so the driver
easily saw me and slowed to a halt a few dozen yards from my wrecked vehicle. I nervously approached the truck. I was praying for a nice middle aged woman in a Volvo or something, not some backwoods hick in a souped up piece of junk. It wasn’t like my current position afforded me the luxury of being choosy, though.

An older man with gra
ying hair that peeked out from beneath his camouflage hat rolled down the passenger’s side window and assessed the situation quickly as his eyes flitted from the dead deer to my SUV’s damaged hood and finally came to rest on me.

“They come out of nowhere sometimes, huh?” he asked conversationally. He sounded friendly enough.

“Sure do,” I agreed, forcing myself to give him a sweet smile. “I don’t suppose you’ve got cell phone reception here?”

“Cell phones, who needs ‘
em? Got along just fine without one before, still do to this day. Say, you want a ride to town?”

Nothing seemed more pointless than sitting around in the unmovable SUV, but
I didn’t feel right about climbing into some strange man’s truck. Lessons taught by my parents during my childhood still stuck with me well into adulthood, and even at 28 I knew the real risks of hitching a ride with a strange man. Especially sketchy looking ones who carried weapons in their vehicle.

“Thanks, but I’d better wait here for a tow truck. Would you mind calling a tow service for me when you reach town?”

“Well,” he removed his hat and scratched the salt and pepper hair underneath, “the way I’m headed, there’s no real town for a good twenty miles or so, as you probably noticed.” I calculated in my head how long it would take for him to get there, and how long it would take a tow truck to get out to me once they were notified of my predicament. “Ah hell, if I turn around it’s only six or seven miles back to town, and I’m in no hurry today. I got no place to be, so if you like, I’ll just run back there and send someone.”

“Would you? That’d be great!”
This time my smile was genuine.

“You sure you don’t want a ride back to town with me, maybe grab yourself a cup of c
offee at the little café there while you wait?”

Coffee sounded heavenly right about then, but
I politely declined his offer once more. I wouldn’t risk my life by taking a ride with some strange backwoods man, not even for a much-needed hot cup of coffee.

“All right, then, you stay safe, and someone will be out here in a jiffy.”

I breathed an audible sigh of relief as the man made a three point turn in the road and headed back the way he had come. If the next town was truly only six or seven miles up the road, there was a chance that a tow truck would be out to assist me within the hour, depending on how swiftly they hit the road to come rescue me.

I opened the back of my
SUV and rooted around in my luggage until I found the heavier coat I had packed ‘just in case’. Without a running engine, it was impossible to turn on the heat in my vehicle and despite it being the middle of the day, there was a chilly nip in the air.

Under my breath I cursed my
friend Sarah. If she had to get married somewhere out of town, why not the Bahamas? Or Mexico? Those were the types of places people who wanted an ‘away’ wedding chose, not Maine. But Sarah insisted on holding her ceremony in the middle of nowhere in backwoods Maine during peak foliage season instead of on a cruise or a warm beach somewhere. So now I had a busted car, a dead deer, and a serious case of the chills caused by the Maine autumn temperatures.

Even though there was no cell phone recepti
on, I realized that I could still listen to my music while I waited. I climbed into the driver’s seat, locked the doors, and pulled out my ear buds. The music always sounded better through the ear buds, and it was louder that way too. My cell phone had cheap speakers.

Listening to my
favorite songs helped pass the time as I waited, and it relaxed me a bit too. Before I knew it I was singing along to my favorite Lady Gaga song and moving in my seat in time to the beat.

I
flinched and yelped out loud when a large masculine hand smacked against my passenger side window. My heart pounded in terror as I quickly hit the door lock one more time with one hand while ripping my ear buds out with the other. I prayed it wasn’t the guy in the truck, back with his hunting buddies or something.

All I
could see through the closed window was a male torso dressed in dark green, and my mind raced as I waited for him to either duck down into my view or otherwise identify himself. A moment later he pushed a badge against the window, and I chastised myself for being so jumpy. It was just a police officer–finally. A quick glance in my rear view mirror confirmed this when I saw his cruiser, lights on top of it and all, parked behind me.

I
unlocked my door and climbed out to greet him.

“You don’t kno
w how glad I am to see you!” I told him as I unfolded myself from the SUV. Anything else I had to say died on my lips when I got a good look at the officer.

Not, not an officer. While he was in some sort of official uniform and had the badge and the state vehicle,
he was clearly no cop. I didn’t have much time to ponder that once I got a good look at his face.

He was tall, but not too tall, an
d even in his dowdy uniform I could tell that he was well built. He had dark hair with a matching five o’clock shadow. His piercing dark eyes regarded me calmly as my mouth fell open in surprise. Not only had help finally arrived, but it came in the form of a super-hot official of some sort. I held back a grimace as I imagined just how awful I looked after hours on the road. I hadn’t even thrown on any makeup when I left the house at 5:00 that morning. I must have been a hot mess.

“Are you okay?” His
voice was rich and deep, and I found myself breathlessly awaiting his next statement if only to hear that voice again.

“Yeah, um, I’m fine. The deer didn’
t do so well though.” I gestured to the dead deer in the brush on the side of the road and he walked over to inspect it. “Who are you, exactly?” I didn’t really care as long as he could help me straighten out the whole mess, but I wanted a name to put with that incredible face and body.

“William Holbrook, game w
arden,” he replied without looking back at me. He turned the deer carcass over and I felt my stomach clench in protest so I studied the blacktop in front of me while he examined it.

“Game warden?
I was hoping for a tow truck.”

“It’s coming. But I was in the area and heard about the deer and I wanted to come take a look for myself. The deer herd levels in this area have been on the decline, and I wanted to check the carcass for any signs of disease to see if it could give me any clues about the general population around here,” he explained as he stood back up and faced
me. “I don’t see anything unusual about that one that you hit.”

“Oh. So, can you give me a ride to town? I’ve got to find a mechanic, fast, because
I’ve got a wedding to attend tomorrow.” He wasn’t a woman, but if I couldn’t find another female to give me a ride, an official in uniform was the next best thing. Especially if he was smoking hot.

The warden eyeballed the hood of
my SUV and shook his head. “I don’t think you’ll be going anywhere anytime soon.”

“Is there a car rental place nearby? If this will take a day or two to repair
then I’ll just rent a car to get to the wedding and pick it up when I swing back this way.”

He
chuckled good-naturedly and I began to get annoyed. I didn’t see anything funny about my situation, or my request.

“There’s no rental place for miles, and I’m no mechanic, but I’m thinking this will take a more than a day or two to repair.”

This was not the way it was supposed to go down. Someone would come and give me a ride into town, my car would get towed to a garage, and I’d wait a few hours for it to be made at least drivable again or I’d rent a car to continue on to my destination. I couldn’t really afford it but I didn’t see any other option. The money part could be figured out later. I had a wedding to attend and then, once my obligation to Sarah was fulfilled, I could drive out of the hellhole that was the state of Maine and get back home to proper civilization.

“Can you at least give me a lift to town or not?” The warden could be mistaken. As he said, he was no mechanic, so
maybe he was wrong. At best my car would be done much sooner than he thought, at worst I could find a rental car or take a cab to the nearest rental car place if there wasn’t one in town. All I needed to do was get into town to find a phone or a cell signal.

“I’d be happy to. May I just see your driver’s license first
, please?”

I
went back to my car and dug through my purse until I found my wallet, then extracted my license.

“Here you go.”
I managed to hide my irritation about wasting time with this formality. I know he was just doing his job, but did I really
look
like a wanted felon? I wanted to get into town, not play fake-cop with this warden.

He took it from me
and studied it for a moment.

“Hartford, huh?”
Though I couldn’t read his downcast eyes, I didn’t miss the small curl of his lips as he tried not to smile as if he was part of some inside joke that I wasn’t in on.

“Yes, I’m from Hartford.”

“Have you had anything to drink today, Miss Coffman?”

“Of course not,” I
scoffed. “It’s only morning!”

“Actually,” the warden c
hecked his watch, “it’s almost 1:00.”

1
:00. I was supposed to be there by now. Hours had been wasted on the side of the road, waiting for help.

“You stay right here, and I’m j
ust going to go run this. We’ll be on our way if you turn up clear.” He headed back to his car with my license.

It was hard to
be angry about the delay as I watched him walk away. Even in the dark green warden uniform pants, I could tell that he had a fabulous ass. No surprises there–the warden was a delight to the eyes, no matter what angle I viewed him at.

“I d
o love me a man in uniform,” I muttered under my breath to myself as I watched him go. If the afternoon had to be a total disaster, at least I could enjoy the view. It’s not like I had a boyfriend waiting for me back home, and it had been a terribly stressful, boring afternoon, so I felt no guilt for looking at the warden that way. I’d take my amusement where I could find it.