Sapphire Falls: Going Zero to Sixty (Kindle Worlds Novella) Read online

  Text copyright ©2017 by the Author.

  This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Erin Nicholas. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Sapphire Falls remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Erin Nicholas, or their affiliates or licensors.

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  Going Zero to Sixty

  A Sapphire Falls Kindle Worlds Novella

  by

  Lizbeth Selvig

  DEDICATION

  To my community of wonderful readers: The Loyal Legions and the Literary Ladies.

  You are so incredibly important and special to me—you have no idea how inspiring you are.

  I write my stories for and because of you all.

  XOXO

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  First and foremost, thank you, again, to Erin Nicholas for creating the wonderful world of Sapphire Falls. What fun it is to move here for a time and be part of an amazeballs little town!

  Thank you to Ellen Lindseth for constant handholding and last-minute beta reading and all around friendship. SWAK!

  Thank you ALWAYS to my incredible Jan—the husband who cooks, does laundry, plans extraordinary adventures for us, and never ever, ever rolls his eyes (in front of me) when I stay up literally all night long the last two days before a deadline. That is truly the definition of love to a writer!

  Chapter One

  Her decision to leave might have been made after an argument, but that was merely an accident of timing. Elle Mitchell’s plans to move from tiny Kennison Falls—literally the only home she’d ever known—had been brewing for months. The argument with her boss, who also happened to be her brother Dewey, had simply pushed her sooner into casting her dice and spinning the roulette wheel then asking her Magic 8-Ball, “Shall I take the new job?” When it had offered an unequivocal “Without A Doubt,” she’d packed her bags.

  It was foolish, paying more heed to a toy fortune teller than her caring family, but the 8-Ball wasn’t overbearing, chauvinistic, or hyper-worried. Elle had lived with all three of those for too long. She adored her brother, and she’d make this last attempt to mend the rift with him, but with or without success, she was leaving in the morning.

  The lovely, etched-glass door of her beloved Loon Feather Café in the heart of their little town, swung open with the tiniest of squeals, and Elle gently traced the loon in the design. She’d miss this place—Dewey was right about that. Her big, handsome brother sat across the dining room scowling into a menu, and she shook her head. No doubt he was preparing his final assault on her plans.

  A cheery, piping tune greeted her as she crossed the entry, and she turned to a large cage beside the door. Two cockatiels, one gray and one white, scrabbled along a perch, happy as always to see a customer. The tune, The Colonel Bogey March, came from little gray Lester.

  “Hello, sweeties,” Elle crooned to the café’s two mascots. “

  “How-how dee, stray-jer!” Cotton, the white bird, cocked her head.

  “Howdy stranger,” Elle repeated and looked at a card above the cage. It contained the newest phrase patrons were teaching Cotton to say. Teaching the bird to speak one phrase at a time was a Loon Feather tradition. I am Cotton.

  “I am Cotton,” Elle said.

  “I-I-I Cot,” Cotton chirped.

  “Good girl! I am Cotton.”

  From across the café, Dewey caught her eyes and arched a thick brow. Elle smiled and blew a kiss to the birds. Lester continued with his march.

  They were cool birds—more unique town icons she’d miss—but Dewey was one of the coolest men Elle knew. He had a second-to-none talent for repairing anything in the world. His wonderful wife, Rose, was one of the nicest women on the planet. And his son, Jesse, was the only person who’d given Elle true pause about leaving. Without question, her brother had taught her more things, including her knowledge of cars and how to fix them, than anyone she knew. Dewey loved her. She loved him. But he could also drive her into believing that the sound of fingernails on a chalkboard was a sonata. Some days “irritating” didn’t begin to describe Dewey Mitchell.

  “You don’t have to spend hours with the birds when I’m on a schedule you know.” He groused as she approached, and she laughed at his grumpy face.

  “You have plenty of time.” She made a fist and rapped the top of his head with her knuckles. “I work for you, remember? I made the schedule. “

  “Worked.”

  “Yes.” She sighed and pulled out the wooden, spindle-backed chair beside Dewey’s. “I’ll miss it. Mostly.”

  “Could have fooled me.”

  “Well, dumb butt, I won’t miss your ragging.”

  He took his turn at a long sigh.

  “What did you want, Eleanor? You might have written the schedule, but you don’t know everything. I have six things waiting for me to work on. Especially now that you’re gone.”

  “Ooooh, petulance, whining, martyrdom and my full name. You’re in rare ten-year-old form, big bro’.” He curled his lip. “Fine. I wanted to meet with you because I don’t want to leave after that huge row we had last weekend. And I plan to badger you into giving me your blessing.”

  At last Dewey’s crusty demeanor fell away, and the big-hearted brother she’d always known surfaced—defeated, but alive and well.

  “Aw, Ellie. You’ve always had my blessing, whatever you do.”

  “Could have fooled me.” She smiled fondly. Dewey was the eldest of six kids and she held family baby status. He fancied himself her second father.

  “Okay, okay, look. I am worried about you, and I don’t want you to get hurt. This Harley Davidson dude sounds a little iffy. But that’s not the truth either. Did it ever occur to you I’m simply sad you’re leaving? That I’ll miss you, you little dork.” He used the nickname from a long-ago childhood.

  For the first time a welling of tears burned behind Elle’s eyes. This was Dewey at his stoic sweetest. She might be leaving in large part to get free of him and make her own way but, dang, he was her rock.

  “Think about it. You won’t have me sassing you anymore.”

  She pressed a knuckle to the outside corner of her eye, stopping a tear before it could trickle free.

  “There is that. But there’s also this Horatio Hornblower dude. What the hell do you really know about him?”

  Elle laughed. “Harley Holt. Yeah, I don’t really know that much. He runs a car shop about five miles out of Sapphire Falls. He’s done some motorcycle racing. His shop is legit as far as I can tell, and he asked smart questions when we talked on the phone, so I don’t think he’s trying to scam anything.”

  “And he’s willing to hire a woman mechanic?”

  She stared. “Rose would have your head for that question.”

  “Yeah, she would.” Dewey shrugged. “But she wouldn’t run off for no good reason to take a job with a strange man, either.”

  “Bull crap.” Elle sat back. “Rose left Boston on her own, drove cross country with a kid and a car and not much more. Look what she got—you. Maybe I’ll find my prince, too.”

  “Don’t say that. You come on back here when you get this out of your system.”

  “Chauvinist.”

  “I’m not. I’m—”

  “A Neanderthal of an overbearing, big brother.”

  His mouth twisted ruefully. “Let’s go with that.”

  From across the room, Rio Pitts-Matherson, the Loon’s favor
ite waitress and pastry baker, headed their way with an order pad in her hands. Elle dug quickly into her purse and produced a folded sheet of paper.

  “Here. I copied this last night. This is the most complete bio I’ve found on Harley Holt. You can see what he looks like, and may I say it’s not too bad. He has kind eyes. I’ll be fine, Dewey.”

  He unfolded the story, which she’d copied from a Nebraska newspaper, about Harley S. Holt’s final race win and the opening of his new business, HSH Motors, outside of Sapphire Falls. The story was only six months old.

  “Kind eyes.” Dewey scoffed. “I don’t like him.”

  “Why, because he’s better looking than you are?”

  “Now who could be better looking than Dewey Mitchell?”

  Rio reached their table and grinned, her bright red pony tail hanging thick to the middle of her back. She’d been in Kennison Falls only two years, and had married a local stable owner and horse breeder. But she might as well have been native-born. Everyone loved the fun and fiery former city girl,

  Elle tapped the picture of the sandy-haired man in the photo. His thick nearly-blond locks fell to his shoulders, and intense blue eyes dared the world to take him on. She couldn’t deny that the idea of working for a Norse god hadn’t exactly dissuaded her from applying for the job, the guy had also been professional and straightforward on the phone. For all she knew he was married, settled, a professional dad—as Dewey was these days. The bottom line was, she wasn’t worried about Harley Holt, despite the comic book name. Nor was she worried about moving away from home—she could always come back.

  What she really worried about was her ability to make it without her brother’s constant presence. He might no longer always tell her what to do when it came to fixing cars, but he was there for a consult or to listen to an engine and hear, with his expert ear, whether something was adjusted properly. Elle knew she rarely made a mistake—but she’d never had to second guess herself, because of Dewey. Her brother had perfect pitch when it came to engine sounds. Elle craved the chance to learn whether or not that talent ran in the family.

  “Whoa, come to Mama.” Rio added a whistle. “I don’t know, Dewey. This guy in the picture might give you a run for your money.”

  “Not counting David.” Elle grinned when she mentioned Rio’s equally-gorgeous husband.

  “That went without saying.” Rio nodded. “So what can I get you two?”

  “Talk her out of running away with this one.” Dewey wiggled his brows.

  “Oh my gosh, is that the guy you got the job with?”

  Elle nodded. “Not bad, right?”

  “Oh come on,” Dewey grunted. “How can he have a reputable shop that’s only been around a few months? Good looks don’t make a talented mechanic.”

  “You are jealous.”

  “Worried. I’m ceding my baby sister’s welfare to another baby.”

  “He’s close to your age, dumbass. Thirty-one is ancient.”

  “He’s not my age in car experience years.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  Rio gave Dewey a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “Let her go, big brother. You’ve trained her well.”

  “Thank you.” Elle shot Dewey a self-satisfied smile before placing her hand tenderly on his arm. “I’ll be fine. Rio is absolutely right—I trust what my Jedi Master has taught me.”

  “All right.” Dewey shook his head and blew out a breath. “Dumb, Neanderthal, big brother act is over. You have my blessing, Ellie, and you have my confidence. You’re damn good at what you do. But know this. If anything, and I mean anything, goes haywire, I’ll be in Sapphire Falls faster than Jimmie Johnson, Junior Earnhardt, and Kyle Busch combined.”

  “I know you will.”

  Elle leaned over, kissed his cheek then looked up at Rio.

  “Two Effie-burgers and two pieces of your French silk pie afterward. And one check, this is my treat.”

  She looked back down at the picture of Harley Holt, and her stomach leaped with anticipation.

  And more than a few nerves that she’d never cop to in front of her over-protective big brother.

  Chapter Two

  The drive from southern Minnesota to the little town of Sapphire Falls an hour west of Omaha took a little over seven hours including her stops for rest and lunch. All the way, Elle’s sense of adventure kept her adrenaline pumping and her spirits bobbing from calm anticipation to breathless excitement. Never in her life had she done something so…independent.

  She pushed back all vestiges of nervousness. She was a mere three hundred and fifty miles from Kennison Falls and could be home in a heartbeat. This was no big deal.

  It was just a very cool deal.

  The peaceful countryside drew her in. It wasn’t so terribly different from the southern part of her home state—lush farm fields, contented cattle, yellow wheat heads starting to stubble rich soil as May began. Despite what Dewey thought, Elle had chosen this job because of the peace and the land, not because of the Norse god shop owner. She was a small town girl and she’d like Sapphire Falls. Although it was slightly larger than her town of nine hundred, pictures showed the same sorts of cozy, small town businesses and friendly celebrations.

  She barely thought twice when the ancient, puke-colored Oldsmobile roared up behind her. She ignored it until the driver of the dubious vehicle put its nose nearly on her bumper. Seriously? she thought. On a deserted road? There wasn’t much Elle despised more than a tailgater, and although safety first had been drilled into her head for as long as she could remember, road rage was most likely to hit when some idiot pulled this very stunt.

  Her shattered peace didn’t help. She narrowed her eyes and tapped her foot twice on the brake pedal without slowing down. To her satisfaction the front bumper of the Olds—a Cutlass—gave a sudden dip as the driver slammed on his brakes.

  “Serves you right, you jerk,” she muttered.

  With a roar and a slight puff of gray-blue smoke, the ugly car swerved around her and pulled alongside for a few seconds. She expected the finger but only got a glare, or so she assumed, since oversized, aviator sunglasses masked his eyes. A short, high-set masculine pony tail was his only other identifying feature. All she could do was glare back at him as he shot past.

  “Thanks for the warm welcome to town, butthead,” she called after him, and blew out a breath. She hoped the man wasn’t indicative of Sapphire Falls’ attitude.

  Five minutes later she got her second happy taste of karmic revenge when, literally at the Welcome to Sapphire Falls sign, she spotted the ugly Cutlass on the side of the road with a police car behind it. An officer leaned through the Cutlass driver’s window. It took everything Elle had not to honk her horn and send him a gloating smile, however, she didn’t need to upset a local policeman on her way into his town.

  She drove past without turning her head.

  It took only a few minutes to follow the simple directions to the Rise and Shine Bed and Breakfast. The owner, Austin Stone, greeted her as if she were a long lost niece—erasing any worries that the town was full of arrogant, speeding people.

  “You’re here at a perfect time,” Austin said. “We’re a month-plus away from the Summer Festival, and since school isn’t out, the tourist season hasn’t begun either. I only have one other couple staying so you have your pick of rooms.”

  “That’s awfully nice,” Elle said, “but I’m happy to take any room. I might be here for a while until I find a permanent place.”

  Austin dismissed her concern. “That’s exactly why you get a choice. I have a simple single room. It has its own bath but only a small coffee pot. For fifty dollars a week more, I have a room with a kitchenette—really, its just a refrigerator, hot plate and microwave with a few dishes in a small nook, but I’ve learned how to spin it so it sounds great.”

  Elle grinned at his ebullient honesty. “I’m sure it is great.”

  “If you’re here an extended time it can save money and time. You ca
n stock up on basics so you don’t need to go out every night. You’re welcome to check out both rooms and compare.”

  Elle took only a moment to consider. Money wasn’t an issue at the moment. Dewey had paid her fairly, and she hadn’t ever been a spendthrift. She couldn’t be extravagant, but she could afford fifty bucks for the convenience.

  “I’ll take the larger room,” she said. “Thanks for giving me the option.”

  “No problem. You said you’re moving to town permanently. Welcome to Sapphire Falls.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re working here, then?”

  “I’m an auto mechanic. I’ll be working at the local garage.”

  “That’s a rare career for a woman. Good for you.”

  Elle smiled, surprised and warmed by the acceptance. Even in this day, the world of auto mechanics and engines belonged ninety percent to men, and most people didn’t understand her obsession with cars.

  “I’ll let you know how it goes after the first week. Other mechanics sometimes have issues believing I have any expertise, but I’ll…” she winked, “spin it so I sound great.”

  “That’s the ticket. Come on, I’ll show you your room.”

  The room was more than great, filled with quilts on the double bed and landscape pictures Austin told her were by a local photographer. The small ensuite along with the kitchenette nook Austin had described, and the color scheme in Elle’s favorite warm reds, yellows, and oranges made her feel immediately at home.

  “This is wonderful.” She turned in place, taking in the whole room. “I’m not sure I’ll ever want to leave. I’d be happy to find this nice a place when I start apartment hunting.”

  “Good job buttering me up for guest-of-the-year honors.” Austin patted her shoulder. “You get settled and then head out to explore. Might as well get the lay of the land right away—it’s only two o’clock, the streets won’t roll up for a long time yet.”

  “Good to know.”

  “I’ll give you directions to the grocery store and some places to try for the first night’s dinner. Breakfast here is every morning from six to nine. If there’s anything you need, just ask.”