I trailed off and twisted to get to my purse, thinking the twenty dollar bill in it was not enough, but it was all I had. I was also thinking that I was unfortunately going to have to use my credit card to get gas.

“No need. Just get to Ride. Sort out that spare, yeah?”

I turned back to him. “You sure?”

“Don’t want your money.”

That was firm in a way that sounded like he was offended, something I really didn’t want, so, hesitantly, I nodded. “You’ve been really kind.”

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Be safe.”

And then he turned toward his bike.

He just turned toward his bike!

I couldn’t let him just turn toward his bike and walk away.

I had no idea why but there was no denying in that second that I knew into my bones I couldn’t allow the biker named Joker to walk away.

“Joker!” I called.

He turned back.

When I got his eyes, I didn’t know what to do so I didn’t do anything.

“Right,” he said, walked to me and got closer than he had before.

Even as Travis tried to make a lunge at him, he lifted up his hand and I held my breath.

I felt his sunglasses slide out of my hair.

“Thanks,” he murmured and turned back.

“Really, thank you,” I blurted, this a hopefully not blatant effort to detain him (although it was an effort to detain him) and he again turned to me. “I don’t know what to say. I feel like I should do something. You helped me out a lot.”

“Get you and your kid off the side of the highway and get safe, that’s all you gotta do.”

“Oh. Yes. Of course. I should do that,” I babbled.

“Later,” he said and moved to his bike.

“Later,” I called as he did, not wanting him to go.

I didn’t understand this.

Okay, he helped me out and he was very nice about it.

And okay, I was alone. Like really alone. No family close by. No friends. No husband. New baby. New life I didn’t like all that much (except said presence of my new baby).

And Joker stopped and helped me out, making a problem I would have had to sort into one of those now nonexistent times when I got to let someone else sort it and I could play with my son, even if that time was on the side of a traffic-clogged interstate.

That meant a lot.

But I didn’t want him to go in a way that wasn’t just not wanting to see the last of a person who did me a kindness.

It was different.

And it was frightening.

But what was more frightening was that he was on his bike and making it roar.

It was almost over.

He’d be gone.

And I’d be alone.