—Proverbs 3:5–6
Dedicated to my family. I love you more.
Contents
Joshua Crawford gripped the steering wheel and hoped he could keep his cool when he confronted his mother about her lousy idea to marry the town drunk. “Hoped” being the key word. He drove with precise, automatic movements, each mile taking him closer to home and to the woman who’d loved and raised him and taught him right from wrong.
Which was why he was not going to allow her to throw the rest of her good years away on a man who could take advantage of a widow. Because that was just plain wrong. Of all the people—no, of all the unmarried people—in Wrangler’s Corner, she’d picked Garrett Martin?
Joshua was actually worried about her mental state. No matter that she insisted the man was changed and treated her like a “precious jewel.” Her words. Nope, not his mother. No way. His deceased father may have been best friends with the man, but that didn’t mean his mother had to marry him.
As Joshua rounded the next curve that would take him into Wrangler’s Corner, he slammed on the brakes. Rubber screeched on asphalt but his SUV responded well.
A black van sat in the middle of the street, blocking both lanes, its hazard lights flashing. A wreck? Was anyone hurt? His hand went to the door handle.
At the sound of a woman’s scream, he bolted out of the SUV and ran toward the black van. Only to skid to a stop. It was one inch from being T-boned up against the front of a light gray sedan.
A blond-headed woman struggled against a man’s grip.
“Hey!” Joshua started toward them.
The man spun, freeing the woman who dropped to her knees and clutched her very pregnant belly. Her tentlike dress billowed around her as tears dripped down her cheeks. He met her attacker’s gaze. “Get away from her. I’m calling the cops.”
Joshua pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed 9-1-1. The man cursed, raced at Joshua and threw a right hook. If it had connected, it would have hurt, but Joshua easily deflected the intended blow.
With expert precision, he flipped the man, who landed on his back, gasping and blinking. The attacker rolled to his stomach, still trying to draw breath. Joshua started toward him to move him out of reach of the woman and found himself staring at the muzzle of a black pistol.
Joshua held his hands up and stepped back slightly. Even his extreme skills were no match for a bullet. “Whoa. There’s no need for that.”
The man rolled to his feet, keeping the weapon trained on Joshua. The woman let out another low cry, but Joshua couldn’t do anything to help her. Not yet. His adrenaline spiked in a way he’d never felt before. “Get in your van and drive away,” Joshua said.
“She’s coming with me.”
Joshua glanced at the puddle of water on the ground at the woman’s feet. “Actually, I think she’s getting ready to have a baby. Have you ever delivered one?”
Before the attacker could respond, a blue truck approached and slowed. The older man behind the wheel lowered his window, his brow furrowed in concern. “Hey, y’all need any help?”
“No, we’re fine, thanks,” Joshua said. “It was a close call, but no one’s hurt.” He sure didn’t want to involve an innocent bystander. From his position, the newcomer couldn’t see the weapon in the other man’s hand. Joshua planned to keep it that way.
“All right, then.” The driver gave a wave and sped off.
“The