Apache Heart by Amy J Miller

either not doing enough or doing too much.”   He scuffed his foot in the gravel, but before Randi could ask anything else, he said, “Let’s go by Harold’s.  Maybe he has a lead on a car.  And then I’m taking you to eat.  You have to be starving after working out.  You can make up your own mind about the rest.”
                  “Thanks.”  She lifted Elan’s bangs away from his face with a finger,  “I appreciate everything you’re trying to do…I really do.” 
                  When they pulled into Harold’s garage twenty minutes later, Randi felt a little calmer. The workout had helped with her stress, and all the events with Joe seemed to be fading into the distance.  Even the ‘Dr. Bitch’ scrawled on her truck was starting to seem more funny than frightening.
                  “I guess you do need a paint job,” Harold said by way of greeting.
                  Randi laughed.  “The only problem is that I need a vehicle.   It’s going to be tough to leave it here without some replacement wheels.”
                  Harold nodded knowingly, “Yeah, I don’t guess you have any horses, do you?”  He smiled.  “That’s what some folks around here depend on when their truck is in the shop.”
                  “No four-legged friends, sorry.”
                  Elan stood back, letting Randi negotiate things on her own, trying not to pressure her. 
                  “I do have an old beater in the back that I’ve been known to loan out on occasion…to my special customers.”  Harold’s mouth pursed into a little smile, “And since you’ve been here twice in four days, I’d say that qualifies you as a special customer.”
                  “I don’t mind renting it from you,” Randi offered.
                  “Nah, just bring it back with a full tank.  I appreciate the business.  Let me get the keys.”
                  She turned back to Elan, “So I’m thinking a burger.”
                  A few minutes later, Randi was driving away in a mid 80s era station wagon.  The interior had seen better days, but it drove well enough, a testament to Harold’s mechanical skills, Randi thought.
                  “You look good in that car,” Elan teased as they got out in the diner parking lot.
                  “It beats telling the whole world that I’m Dr. Bitch,” Randi said, rolling her eyes. “Forget riding a horse, I could totally eat one right now…come on, giddy up.”  She playfully swatted at Elan.  He grabbed her hand, swinging her around.  “Hey…no horsing around,” Randi said laughing at her own stupid pun.
                  As she finished her second revolution, she looked up to see three men coming out of the diner, one of them was Russell, one of them was a man she’d never seen, and one of them was Lee.  Immediately, she felt silly, and shook herself loose from Elan.
                  “Hi Russell, Lee.”  She nodded.
                  “You okay, Randi?”  Russell asked.  “Heard about your truck—this is Lynette’s dad, Wynn.”
                  “There aren’t any secrets around here, are there?”  Randi remarked.
                  Lee echoed what he’d said the morning they went fishing, “Not many.”   He eyed Elan.
                  “I’m okay, just trying not to worry about it.”  Randi wanted to change the subject away from herself.  “Lynette had a great work out today.  She’s going to be a great runner…but you all probably know that.”  Suddenly Randi felt self-conscious, standing in some kind of no man’s land between Elan and the Yahnakis.
                  Wynn rescued her, “Yeah, we’re real proud of Lynette.  She’s doing good in school, and she cares about tradition