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and rescues.
“I suppose,” Hank said slowly, “somebody ought to keep her running.”
Matthew went still.
Bryce looked at him and smiled.
Hank took a drink of root beer. “Don’t get excited. You still grind gears like a teenager.”
Matthew grinned anyway.
At the Miller County Fall Fair two months later, Hank entered Ruthie in the antique truck parade. He claimed continue reading …
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