Heartland Weddings by Jennifer Johnson

Author:Jennifer Johnson [JOHNSON, JENNIFER; LIGGETT, CATHY]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-62416-503-0
Publisher: Barbour Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2012-10-14T16:00:00+00:00

MacNeill Hattaway jumped out of the rust-fringed pickup truck, slamming the creaking door behind him.

That was close. Way too close!

He’d decided to drive his uncle’s rattletrap thinking it’d be less showy and conspicuous than his red Corvette, but water-slick roads or not, the thing really just wasn’t safe. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—do it again. Not when he couldn’t trust the brakes, and not when the questionable steering locked up without a moment’s notice.

Of course, it hadn’t helped that a deer had lunged across the road in front of him at the same time he’d turned the truck off Route 48 and onto West Loveland. Still, he’d almost gotten himself killed and all because he’d had a craving for a burger from Paxton’s before meeting up with a friend later that evening.

Even worse, he’d almost maimed another driver—a woman—who had every right to be standing in the street screaming uncontrollably at him.

Not that he wasn’t accustomed to people screaming at him.

Actually he was fairly used to it, being that it was pretty much a part of his job. As a pro pitcher, he’d heard way more than his share of fevered remarks from the Tristate Hawks’ fans over the years—both good and bad—all depending on how precisely he could get an orange-sized ball to cross over a seventeen-inch plate from a little over sixty feet away, preferably at a speed of ninety miles an hour or so.

Sometimes he managed to do that handily. Other times, he couldn’t do it to save his life, his ego, or his ears from the deafening cries of disgust from the stands.

So, yeah, he was used to people yelling all right.

But he could tell the woman wasn’t used to it—or at least she wasn’t used to being the one doing the yelling. Instead of flailing arms, hers were crossed over her chest, hugging her petite body. And her voice sort of trembled as it got louder, as if it was usually softer, more controlled, and not used to such extremes.

“What were you thinking? You could have killed us. All of us!”

At least she was kind enough to include him in the mix, he noticed.

“Hey, I’m sorry, miss. I really am. I’m sure I scared you to—”

“To death. Yes! You certainly did scare me to death.” She shoved a tendril of dark, wet hair back from her forehead, attempting to tuck it into her ponytail. Letting more of her face show…a really nice, pretty face, he could tell that much even through the drizzle. “Do you always drive like that?”

“Do I what? Well, no. I mean, actually there was a deer. A deer that came out of nowhere, leaping across the road. I tried to swerve away, but then”—he pointed to his uncle’s truck, ready to explain about the apparently lousy brakes and major lack of steering, but she cut him off.

“Do you know I have a child in my car?”

“A kid? You do? Is he—is she—all right?”

“He. Yes, he’s all right. But you frightened him. That’s for sure. As if he wasn’t already scared enough from the storm.

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