Nicholas Sparks - The Rescue

“Kyle doesn’t eat hot dogs or chips. He’s kind of a picky eater.”

Taylor nodded. For a long moment he seemed to be lost in thought.

“Can I give you a lift home?” he finally asked.

“We rode our bikes here.”

Taylor nodded. “I know.”

As soon as he said it, she knew it to be a moment of recognition for both of them. She didn’t need the ride, and he knew it; he’d asked despite the fact that friends and food were waiting just a few steps away. It was obvious that he wanted her to say yes; his expression made that clear. Unlike his offer to bring her groceries home, this time, she knew, his offer had less to do with being kind than it did with what might happen between them.

It would have been easy to say no. Her life was complex enough-did she really need to add something more to the mix? Her mind was telling her that she didn’t have the time, that it wouldn’t be a good idea, that she barely knew him. The thoughts registered in quick succession, making perfect sense, but despite them all, she surprised herself by saying, “I’d like that.”

Her answer seemed to surprise him as well. He took another drink of beer, then nodded without a word. It was then that Denise recognized the same shyness in him that she’d seen at Merchants, and she suddenly acknowledged the very thing she’d been denying to herself all along.

She hadn’t come to the festival to visit with Judy, nor had she come to meet new people.

She’d come to see Taylor McAden.

Mitch and Melissa watched as Taylor and Denise departed. Mitch leaned toward his wife’s ear, so that others wouldn’t overhear him.

“So, what did you think of her?”

“She’s nice,” Melissa said honestly. “But it’s not just up to her. You know how Taylor is. Where this all goes from here will really depend on him.”

“Do you think they’ll get together?”

“You know him better than I do. What do you think?”

Mitch shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

“Yes, you are. You know how charming Taylor can be when he sets his sights on someone. I just hope that this time he doesn’t hurt anyone.”

“He’s your friend, Melissa. You don’t even know Denise.”

“I know. And that’s why I’ve always forgiven him.”

“Monster truck!” Kyle exclaimed. (Monstew twuck!)

A Dodge four-by-four, it was black with oversize wheels. It had two spotlights mounted on a roll bar, a heavy-duty tow cable hooked to the front bumper, a gun rack mounted above the seats in the cab, and a silver toolbox in the bed.

Unlike others she’d seen, however, this one was no showpiece. The paint job had dulled, with deep scratches throughout, and there was a dent in the front side panel, right near the driver’s-side door. One of the rearview mirrors had been torn off, leaving a hole that had rusted around the edges, and the entire lower half of the truck was crusted with a thick layer of mud.

Kyle wrung his hands together, excited. “Monster truck,” he said again.

“Do you like it?” Taylor asked.

“Yes,” he said, nodding enthusiastically.

Taylor loaded the bikes into the bed of the truck, then held the door open for them. Because the truck was high, he had to help Kyle scramble inside. Denise was next, and Taylor accidentally brushed against her as he showed her where to grab to pull herself up.

He started the engine, and they headed toward the outskirts of town with Kyle propped up between them. As if knowing she wanted to be alone with her thoughts, Taylor didn’t say anything, and she was grateful for that. Some people were uncomfortable with silence, considering it a void that needed to be filled, but he obviously wasn’t one of them. He was content simply to drive.

The minutes passed, and her mind wandered. She watched pine trees whistle by, one right after the other, still amazed she was in the truck with him. From the corner of her eye, she could see him concentrating on the road. As she’d noted initially, Taylor wasn’t typically handsome. Had she passed him on the street in Atlanta, she wouldn’t have given him a second glance. He didn’t have that pretty look some men had, but there was something about him she found ruggedly appealing. His face was tan and lean; the sun had carved small lines in his cheeks and around his eyes. His waist was narrow, and his shoulders were heavily muscled, as if from years of heavy load bearing. His arms looked as if he’d pounded thousands of nails, which no doubt he had. It was almost as if his job as a contractor had molded his appearance.

She wondered if he’d ever been married. Neither he nor Judy had mentioned it, but that didn’t mean anything. People were often reluctant to talk about past mistakes. Lord knew she didn’t bring up Brett unless she had to. Still, there was something about him that made her suspect he’d never made the commitment. At the barbecue, she couldn’t help but notice that he seemed to be the only one who was single.

Up ahead was Charity Road, and Taylor slowed the truck, making the turn and then accelerating again. They were almost home.

A minute later Taylor reached the gravel driveway and turned in, gradually applying the brakes until the truck came to a complete stop. Pushing the clutch in, he let the car idle, and Denise turned toward Taylor curiously.

“Hey, little man,” he said. “You wanna drive my truck?”

It took a moment before Kyle turned.

“C’mon,” he said, motioning. “You can drive it.”

Kyle hesitated, and Taylor motioned again. Kyle moved slightly before Taylor finally pulled him into his lap. He placed Kyle’s hands on the upper part of the steering wheel while keeping his own hands close enough to grab it if necessary.

“You ready?”

Kyle didn’t answer, but Taylor slowly let the clutch out and the truck began to inch forward.

“All right, little man, let’s go.”

Kyle, a little unsure, held the wheel steady as the truck began to roll up the drive. His eyes widened as he realized he really had control, and all at once he turned the wheel hard to the left. The truck responded and moved onto the grass, bouncing slightly and heading toward the fence before Kyle turned the wheel the other way. The turn was erratic, but eventually he crossed the gravel driveway to the other side.

They were moving no more than five miles an hour, but Kyle broke into a wide grin and turned toward his mother, a “look what I’m doing” expression on his face. He laughed in delight before turning the wheel once more.

“He’s driving!” Kyle exclaimed. (Eez dryfeen!)

The truck rolled toward the house like a big figure S, missing every tree (thanks to Taylor’s slight but necessary adjustments in course), and when Kyle laughed aloud for the second time, Taylor winked at Denise.

“My dad used to let me do this when I was little. I just figured Kyle might like it, too.”

Kyle, with Taylor’s verbal-and manual-guidance, pulled the truck into the shade of the magnolia tree before finally stopping. After opening the driver’s-side door, Taylor lifted Kyle down. Kyle scrambled to keep his balance before starting toward the house.

As they watched him, neither of them said anything, and at last Taylor turned away, clearing his throat.

“Let me go get your bikes,” he said, and jumped out of the cab. As he moved to the back of the truck and opened the rear latch, Denise sat unmoving, feeling slightly unraveled. Once again Taylor had surprised her. Twice in a single afternoon he’d done something kind for Kyle, something considered normal in the lives of other children. The first time had caused her to stare in wonder; the second time, however, had touched her in a place she’d never expected. As his mother, she could do only so much-she could love and protect Kyle, but she couldn’t make other people accept him. It was obvious, though, that Taylor already did, and she felt her throat close up just a little.

After four and a half years Kyle had finally made a friend.

She heard a thud and felt the truck tilt slightly as Taylor climbed into the bed. She composed herself before opening her door and jumping down.

Taylor lowered the bikes to the ground, then hopped out of the bed in one easy, fluid movement. Still feeling less than steady, Denise glanced toward Kyle and saw him standing by the front door. With the sun peeking over the trees behind him, Taylor’s face seemed hidden by shadows.

“Thanks for driving us home,” she said.

“I was glad to do it,” he replied quietly.

Standing close to him, she couldn’t escape the images of Taylor playing catch with her son or letting Kyle steer the truck, and she knew then that she wanted to know more about Taylor McAden. She wanted to spend more time with him, she wanted to get to know the person who’d been so kind to her child. Most of all, she wanted him to feel the same way.

She could feel herself beginning to blush as she brought her hand to her forehead, shading the sun from her eyes.

“I’ve still got a little time before I’ve got to start getting ready for work,” she said, following her instincts. “Would you like to come in for a glass of tea?”

Taylor pushed his hat up higher on his head. “That sounds good, if it’s okay.”

They rolled the bikes around to the back of the house, leaving them on the porch, then walked inside, pushing through a door whose paint had cracked and peeled over the years. The house wasn’t much cooler, and Denise left the back door open to help circulate the air. Kyle followed them inside.

“Let me get your tea,” she said, trying to hide the sudden nervousness in her voice.

From the refrigerator she pulled out the jar of tea, then added a few ice cubes to glasses she retrieved from the cupboard. She passed Taylor the glass, leaving her own on the counter, conscious of how close she was to him. She turned to Kyle, hoping that Taylor wouldn’t guess what she was feeling.