Doing It Over (A Most Likely to Novel Book 1) Read Free

Hope clutched her favorite stuffed animal, her legs curled under her and her head resting on a pillow. Her pouty pink lips slacked open and her eyes were closed.
    The trip had started out as an adventure, but once they had been on the road for eight hours, Hope did what any seven-year-old would . . . she whined.
    That was a day and a half ago. They stopped for meals and one night in a roadside motel.
    The car sputtered, swinging Melanie’s attention back to the road. Pine trees spiked toward the dusky sky, the clouds and smell in the air told her rain was close.
    All she needed to do was coast into River Bend. She had enough money to stay at Miss Gina’s Bed-and-Breakfast for a couple of nights. Hopefully Gina would offer an “old times’ sake” discount in exchange for help in the kitchen . . . maybe the making of a few beds and she could stay a little longer.
    All she had to do was limp her car into town and pray Miss Gina could take her in early. She wasn’t expected for another week.
    Melanie rounded the corner and immediately dodged a pothole that would have swallowed her front end had she not seen it. As she corrected the steering, a new sound rang from her already pissed off engine.
    She held her breath and decided to ease up on the gas.
    The noise stayed with her.
    The next corner had the occasional “check engine” light turning a steady red. Melanie tapped her dashboard, hoping it was wrong.
    Twenty more miles. Twenty more miles.
    Hope’s sleepy voice pulled Melanie from her silent chant. “Mommy?”
    “Hey, sweetie.”
    “Are we there yet?”
    “Almost.” She offered a weak smile over her shoulder.
    “When did it get dark?”
    Good question . . . When I wasn’t looking . “Not long ago.”
    “I’m hungry.”
    “I know . . . we’re almost there.”
    Her piece of crap car sputtered and slowed. “No, no, no.”
    “Is the car sick again?”
    “No . . . yes . . . just a little longer.” Worry etched up her spine as rain started to fall.
    She reached for her cell phone and cussed under her breath. No Service .
    Of course not. Why would River Bend bother with updated cell towers when two-way radios worked just fine?
    “Hope, honey, I want you to look at Mommy’s phone and tell me if we get service.”
    Hope reached for the phone and placed it in her lap.
    Less than a mile later, Hope said, “One bar . . . wait . . . no, it’s gone.”
    A second light on her dash sprang to life. This one flashed, as if calling Melanie an idiot for continuing to drive. “I have no choice,” she said as she hit the dash again.
    Seemed the car took offense and coughed one last time before the engine gave up altogether.
    “No. C’mon . . . no!”
    “That’s not good,” Hope said.
    “Not good at all.” Melanie managed to pull off the road by a good two feet. She shoved the car in neutral and attempted to start her again.
    Click.
    Click.
    She rested her head on the steering wheel and closed her eyes. Eighteen more miles. That’s all she’d needed. The desire to roll into a ball and block out her situation nearly took over her good sense.
    “It’s okay, Mommy. We can walk.”
    Melanie released a frustrated laugh. “No, hon . . . it’s too dark.” And too far.
    Hope undid her seat belt and handed her the cell phone. “You can call someone.”
    She attempted a smile and glanced at the phone.
    No Service.
    She waved it in the air.
    Nothing.
    She shoved the door open and stood alongside the dark road waving her phone in the air. The ambient light lit her face, but still, the words No Service mocked her.
    Melanie reached into the car and popped the trunk.
    As the rain settled in, she pulled a sweatshirt from her suitcase and another from Hope’s bright purple bag.
    After turning on her flashers and popping the hood as a sign to anyone who might drive by that they could use help, Melanie climbed into the backseat with her daughter.
    She shook her rain-soaked hair and pulled Hope’s