Traci snarled at the binder. It had taken over her entire life and consumed her in a way that she felt probably wasn’t healthy. How did people get married every day? How did her mother make a living out of doing this for people over and over again?

She picked up her to-do list and a pencil. Cake, done. Caterer, done. Dress, done. Final fitting, done. One by one, she went down the list. When she got to the bottom, she grinned and tossed it on the table in front of her. She had done every single thing, save the rehearsal dinner tonight, and she wasn’t in charge of that one.

“Thank You, God,” she said out loud. “Thank You for patience and perseverance. Let tomorrow go smoothly.”

She’d taken today off, but Travis had not closed his school, so she changed into her dobak, grabbed her bag and a band to tie her hair back, and left her apartment. She kept the shirt loose and just draped her black belt around her neck for now. She glanced over at her mom’s house and saw her sitting on her porch, looking at the river.

“Hey, Mama!” She yelled. Michelle looked up and lifted a hand just as the door behind her opened, and a young woman stepped out, carrying a steaming cup in each hand. Donetta Nelson. She had skin the color of rich mocha and bright gray eyes. Traci had hired her a month ago to keep her mother company. She sat with her, fixed her meals, and ran errands with her. Traci really liked her a lot, and knowing her mother wasn’t alone had lifted such a burden. She could have moved in, yes, but she worked so many hours that they still would have needed to hire someone. Her mom had a substantial savings account from the sale of her father’s car dealership. It felt right to put that money to good use for her mom’s health and wellbeing.

In the fall, Donetta would start her sophomore year at the local college. Traci would have to find someone else for the daytime hours. At least, she hoped she would need to. She prayed her mother would baffle medical science and outlive this heart problem.

The sun shone hot today, and she pulled at the sleeves of her dobak. Maybe she should have worn the white one instead of the black one. It might have made for a cooler walk. When she stepped into the school, she saw Travis leading the class in free-sparring. The little kids in their helmets and padded vests made her smile. Travis looked up and lifted his hand in a greeting when she slipped onto one of the benches.

Thirty minutes later, the class dismissed. Traci helped students take the padding off and store it properly, then made her way to the mat. Travis led the next class in stretching. She found her spot in the ranks and started stretching her hamstrings with them.

“No more to-do list?” Travis teased.

“No, thank God. I’m officially done until tomorrow morning.”

“Good for you.” Turning his full attention to the class, he led everyone into the push-up position and started counting out push-ups.

An hour later, she helped kids out of their pads again and stacked helmets and gear on the shelves. She changed into a pair of shorts and a bright green tank top, then hung around in the lobby while she waited for Travis to talk to a parent. Finally, he came out of his office. “When’s your next class?”

He turned off the “open” sign and winked at her. “No more today. I’m getting married tomorrow, in case you hadn’t heard.”

“Really? I bet you’ve had so much to do.”

“Nah. Just planning tonight’s meal, and my mom’s doing most of that. Been easygoing, that’s for sure.” He looked at his watch. “If you wait a minute, I’ll change, and we can grab lunch.”

“Sure.” She slung the strap of her bag over her shoulder. “I’ll wait outside by your side door.”

She heard him lock the front door behind her, then strolled into the alley. She pulled her phone out of the side pocket of her bag to check and see if she missed any calls or texts during class. The amount of use she’d gotten out of her phone since the wedding preparations began amazed her. She used to go entire days without even thinking about it. Now it felt glued to her hand.

“Well, well, well, been looking for you. Imagine our surprise to just find you right here. All alone.”

She turned her head and saw Dylan Crawford flanked by two men she recognized but could not name. He wore a pair of dirty jeans and a blue and gray flannel shirt with the sleeves cut off. A prison tattoo ran down his left arm, and his brown hair curled out from under his red baseball cap.

Some instinct warned her of impending danger. Without hesitating, she hit the emergency call button on her lock screen and tossed her phone into her bag. She had on a pair of shorts, a tank top, and flip-flops. Honestly, she didn’t think she’d ever felt so defenseless before.

“Good evening, Mr. Crawford, what can I do for you?”

He snickered. “Well, Miss Deputy Winston, it’s more about what I can do for you.”

Lifting her chin and eying his friends, she asked, “Oh?”

“Yeah. You see, in the last few weeks, you have gotten in my way over and over again. You don’t stop my uncle from killing himself. You arrest my boy. And, you arrest my daddy’s sister. It’s like you have a personal thing for me. So, I’m here to make sure you get my message.”

“What message?”

He stepped close enough that she could smell the stale stench of tobacco and dried sweat. “Stay out of Crawford business.”

“I tell you what, Mr. Crawford. Keep your designer drugs out of my town, and we’ll have nothing more to talk about.”

“Oh, I think you misunderstand. It ain’t that kind of message. I ain’t here to talk.”

The first swing caught her off guard. His fist connected with her cheek and sent pain through her face that took her breath away. She staggered back, wanting to cover her face and cower from another blow. However, she’d had enough training to battle that instinct, take the hit, and confront her opponent without flinching.

Instead of giving in to her instincts, she kicked off her flip-flops and took up a fighting stance, hands fisted, feet shoulder-width apart, strong leg back, rear foot braced, and knees slightly bent. The next time he swung, she deflected the blow and delivered a punch to the side of his ribs along with a deep, angry shout. She used every ounce of her body weight and geometry, so the punch started in her hips and ended at her first two knuckles with all the force delivered a few inches past her actual target.

Dylan hadn’t expected her speed or her strength. He obviously didn’t have even a glimmer of understanding about the training she’d received in the building behind them. He certainly didn’t know the number of boards and bricks she’d broken with her fists, feet, and the sides of her hands over the years. Traci heard Dylan’s rib snap just as much as she felt it in her fist, and he gasped in sudden pain. She returned instantly into her fighting stance.

Somehow, one of the men with him had managed to get behind her. She realized she must have developed momentary tunnel vision when confronting Dylan. She had rarely practiced facing more than one opponent at the same time. The vast majority of sparring sessions were one on one, just as in a competition match. When the man behind her grabbed her wrists, it surprised her. Then she reverted to her training again.

Using his body for leverage, she lifted and kicked with a mighty yell. The ball of her foot missed the third man’s chin, but her heel broke his nose with a crunch that sounded even louder than her yell. He screamed and grabbed at his face as blood poured out from between his fingers.

Before she could contend with the man holding her wrists, she suddenly felt his entire body being tossed aside. She felt Travis’ presence even if she didn’t see him. While she focused on Dylan once more, she did hear a series of grunts and gasps while Travis quietly and efficiently demonstrated his craft. The student part of her wished she could have watched.

Dylan crouched. Traci didn’t move, focusing on being ready for him to make his next move. After what felt like a very long time, Dylan swung toward her again.

Traci jumped in the air just as she had recently practiced and kicked for Dylan’s throat. She adjusted the angle at the last possible moment. A throat blow with that much force and velocity could have ended the man’s life had she connected. Instead, the ball of her foot slammed into Dylan’s jaw with a force that had shattered cinder block, pushing his mandible backward into the ganglions, the bundles of nerves located just behind the jaw and just below the ears, and rendered the man instantly unconscious.

Just as Dylan fell bonelessly to the ground, Tiny appeared in the entrance of the alley. He drew his pistol the second he assessed the situation.

Traci stood back-to-back with Travis, staring at the men lying at their feet, ready to keep fighting if necessary. Tiny kept the gun trained on the men as he handed Traci field cuffs to secure their prisoners. She slipped her flip-flops back on only after she zip-tied Dylan’s wrists behind his back.

“Should I call an ambulance?”

“Probably.” She turned and framed Travis’ face in her hands, kissing him long and hard. “Thank you.”

He looked around and laughed. “Probably didn’t need my help with these guys.”

“I absolutely did. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Travis stood back as Traci spoke to Sheriff Hughes and Tiny. Despite a tank top, shorts, and flip flops, she exuded confidence and professionalism in recounting precisely what happened—without emotion, and without apology.

He couldn’t express how proud he felt of her. For years she had trained with him. Most people took Taekwondo lessons to get into physical shape, to stretch themselves beyond boundaries, to experience a level of discipline they wouldn’t otherwise experience. He knew Traci came to class to learn, then to know how to take what she learned and apply it to real-world situations, to develop the skill to restrain and overcome bigger and stronger opponents. Despite never having a reason to use her martial arts skills up to that moment in her career, she hadn’t even hesitated. She’d used all her training perfectly.

He was still fighting off the adrenaline. He hadn’t had actual physical combat with an opponent intent on doing him harm in years. As a rule, he would rather walk away than engage, but obviously, this time, he’d had no choice. He only had to avoid delivering killing blows.

He didn’t know what would have happened if he hadn’t heard them through his open window. She probably could have fought off all three of them, but maybe not. He whispered a prayer of thanksgiving again as he thought about what could have happened, what didn’t happen.

When she turned to face him, his heart skipped a beat, and then his pulse rate started skittering. In about twenty-four hours, she would be his wife, one with him, his partner in life, the one he could find by his side in good times and in bad. His wife.

He smiled at her and walked toward her. “All set?”

“Yeah. They’ve got it from here.” She held her hand out, and he took it in his. “Still want to get lunch?”

Lifting her chin with his finger, he moved her head right and left and examined her face. “You, my love, are going to have a black eye. And likely a swollen lip and cheek.”

Her tongue darted out of her mouth and touched the cut on her lip, and she gingerly prodded around her eye with the fingers of her free hand. “I can feel it.”

He paused, waiting for more, but nothing came. With a laugh, he said, “That’s it? No worry for tomorrow? No concern for pictures?”

Her eyebrows drew together in a frown. “Tomorrow?” But as she said the word, her eyes widened, and her voice trailed off. “Oh, man. My mother is simply going to kill me.”

Stealing a quick kiss, careful of where his lips hit hers and avoiding the injured area, he said, “I love you.” Keeping her hand in his, he lifted his free hand to wave at the sheriff. “Hopefully, we’ll get a chance to see you tomorrow.”

Sheriff Hughes nodded. “I wouldn’t miss this wedding for the world.”

Traci slipped her bag over her shoulder, and they walked down the street hand-in-hand. She smiled up at him. “Have I thanked you today for jumping in and helping me?”

“Well, yes, you have.” Lifting her hand, he brushed his lips over her knuckles. “I’ll have to think of a way you can repay me.”

Her laughter floated around them. “I am so thankful you were there. I don’t know what would have happened.”

“I think you might have more than a black eye.” He squeezed her hand. “Though I believe you would have eventually won. Or held them off until the cavalry, otherwise known as Tiny, arrived.”

Her dialing 9-1-1 gave the emergency operator a chance to understand the need for help and to ping her call. Because of the phone number, the call went out as an officer needs assistance, which brought the county and the city to the scene. Certainly an exciting event for little Charula in Cooper County, Kentucky.

“Maybe. Three on one, though. I’m thankful it was in daylight and that you were around.”

They stopped at the diner door. Betsy called out as they entered, “Well, if it ain’t Big Trouble in Little Charula. And me without my popcorn.”

Travis laughed and waved. “This girl here is the real star. I just provided backup.”

They walked to their usual booth in the relatively empty diner. The lunch crowd had come and gone, and the dinner crowd hadn’t started arriving yet. The daytime waitress Laurel approached the booth carrying menus. He noticed her hair matched the bright pink lighting along the ceiling.

“You’ve gone pink,” Traci observed. “I like that better than the green.”

Laurel fingered the shaggy bangs. “Yeah? I don’t know. I got used to the green.”

Traci looked at Travis. “I know what I want.”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

Laurel didn’t hand the menus over. Instead, she looked expectantly at Traci, who said, “Burger. Loaded. Extra mayo. Chips.”

Laurel nodded then looked at Travis. “Chili-topped baked potato with cheese and sour cream. Coleslaw on the side. And we’ll both just drink water.”

Traci sat back against the bench. “You going to tell me where we’re going tomorrow yet?”

He grinned. “Tomorrow night, we’re spending the night at a hotel near the Louisville airport. I didn’t want to have to watch the clock during our wedding.”

“You know what I mean. I mean, where to after the airport? Why won’t you even give me a hint?”

“What would the fun be in that?”

In searching for adventurous honeymoon ideas, he’d found a zip-lining trip through the jungles of Costa Rica. He even found a resort in the middle of the rain forest. Michele had helped him by purchasing Traci an entire wardrobe suitable for their honeymoon and packing for her. Traci had surrendered her passport with a frown and a not-so-subtle threat that he better not have planned a cruise. As if he would try to contain her on a floating line-dance party.

He planned to reveal his agenda once they boarded the plane to Miami. And, because they had Miami as their first destination, he knew she would likely assume cruise all the way until they boarded their flight to San Jose.

She snarled, “How am I supposed to know what to pack?”

With a wink, he said, “You’re already packed.”

“You went into my house?”

“Of course not. I had a partner in crime who took care of all the little details.”

She barely spoke above a whisper. “My mother?” Her cheeks flushed, and she strangled out the words. “You let Michelle Winston pack for me? If there’s anything zebra-striped in there….”

He thanked Laurel for the water she delivered. “You need to trust me, Traci. Trust that I know you.”

With a raised eyebrow, she finally nodded. “Fine. Whatever.” The clipped tone shored up the lack of “fine” in her heart.

Travis lifted his cup in her direction. “You’ll be very happy. I promise. If not, then I will concede that it was a mistake—but only then. Right now, I know in my heart you’re going to love our honeymoon.”

“And it’s not a cruise?”

Laughter barked out of his chest. “I love you and cannot wait to marry you tomorrow.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. “Whatever.” The glare didn’t last long as she grinned, obviously no longer able to maintain the facade.

The bruise under her eye had started to darken. “You want some ice for that eye?”

She relaxed and shook her head. “I kept the ice pack the paramedics gave me on it for a while. I don’t think there’s anything else I can do at this point.”

“Except get with my cousin Ava and get makeup tips.”

“Oh, she’s doing my makeup tomorrow, so we’re good.” She waved a hand over her face. “I wouldn’t know where to start. She did my makeup for our prom and once for some senior picture day thing I had to do. She knows I’m going in with total ignorance.”

Surprised, he said, “I didn’t know that. Interesting how our paths crossed before they crossed.”

Traci shrugged. “Small town.”

Before he could reply, Laurel appeared with their plates in each hand. “I’m starving,” Traci exclaimed, unwrapping her silverware from the napkin.

“Enjoy,” Laurel replied, and Travis breathed in the spicy aroma of the chili as he and Traci bowed their heads to pray over their meal.