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“You could save her the cost of a tow,” Mathias piped up from the front seat. “Lowe could probably fix it for free.”

As much as Bridget hated to admit it, in this instance, her nephew was right. Marlowe had a particular gift for all things mechanical, something her father fostered in her at a young age. Many of her books provided detailed information on the inner workings of machines and appliances. Hell, Marlowe had even repaired Bridget’s car on more than one occasion.

With a sigh of resignation, Bridget turned on her heel and approached Sydney again, stopping the redhead before she climbed back in her car.

“I don’t know what’s going on with your car, but if you want, my niece can take a look. Save you a repair bill.”

“Your niece?” Sydney asked incredulously.

Bridget grinned, the woman’s response not surprising. Many people were often shocked at Marlowe’s talents and interests. “Yeah, she has a thing for engines. Well, anything mechanical, really.”

The woman returned her grin. “How old is she?”

“Thirteen. My nephew is sixteen, and he helps her out. I promise they know what they’re doing, but it’s okay if you’d rather not let a couple of teenagers work on your car.”

Sydney hesitated, and then her eyes lit up. “Well, I’ve always been one to support girl power. How can I refuse?”

Bridget nodded and turned to head back to her car, but the kids were already climbing out. They immediately retrieved Marlowe’s toolbox from the trunk before walking to Sydney’s car. They politely bid Sydney hello, and then their heads disappeared under the hood. Mathias used his phone’s flashlight to illuminate the areas his sister indicated.

Bridget stepped back to watch over them, and Sydney moved to stand beside her. Bridget saw the apprehension on the other woman’s face, and Sydney had the grace to seem sheepish when she caught Bridget watching her.

“Thank you for this. I don’t know if they can really fix it, but I appreciate the effort and the fact you waited with me.”

“Honestly, it was all them. I’m too suspicious of people to be so selfless. I promise Marlowe knows what she’s doing. More than most people.”

“I think it’s awesome that she knows about cars and she’s willing to help a stranger. I know it’s not always safe, but it’s nice to see young people wanting to do the right thing. I understand your protective instincts though. You sound like my fiancé and his friends. They’ve seen too much in their line of work to trust people on face value.”

“What do they do?”

“They’re veterans from different branches of the military, but now they work in private security and investigations. Actually, so do I. Only I do the computer work, and they do the boots-on-the-ground work. What about you?”

“I’m a nurse. I used to work in an emergency department at a hospital and then at a medical clinic, so I’ve seen some stuff too.”

The sound of tires crunching gravel had Bridget staring warily at a dark truck with tinted windows pulling in behind Sydney’s vehicle.

Sydney flashed her a reassuring smile. “That’s my fiancé Cole.”

The tall, muscular man stepped from the driver’s side, and Bridget tensed. The guy was huge and oozed intimidation. As sweet and innocent as Sydney seemed, this guy appeared dangerous.

“You all right, Syd?” he drawled as he walked up. His beefy arm encircled her waist, and he dropped a kiss to her lips.

“Yes. Bridget and her niece and nephew stopped to help,” she explained, inclining her head toward the front of her car. His eyes narrowed as he watched Mathias and Marlowe work.

“What the hell…” His voice trailed off as if not believing what he was seeing.

At that moment, Marlowe popped up from under the hood. “Got it! Do you want to see if it’s running now?”

If Bridget didn’t want to let her guard down, she would have chuckled at the comical expression of shock on Cole’s face.

“How old is she?” he demanded.

“Thirteen,” Bridget supplied.

He studied her, his eyes narrowing. Bridget raised her chin, unconsciously extending a challenge. If he thought for one minute he would question her niece’s ability to repair the car, she was ready to set him straight. But his demeanor changed, almost as if he admired her protective instinct toward Marlowe and decided to give her the benefit of the doubt.

He held his hand out to Sydney. “Give me your keys, and I’ll see if the car turns over.”

The keys jingled as she passed them off. He jogged over, adjusted the driver’s seat to afford him more leg room, and settled inside to put the key in the ignition.