by Jillian Hart
“Did you want to come in?
I’ll make you hot chocolate this time,” Amy asked.
“No, I just wanted to see you were safe,” Heath replied.
“So you could leave?”
“Something like that.”
Amy wished she could be angry with him, but it wasn’t that easy. How could she be angry with someone that wonderful? He spoke so well and knew how to make hollandaise sauce without checking a recipe and stood tall when danger called. Not the usual wanderer looking for a job. And that left the question “Why?” She instinctively knew it was a question that would only make him turn away.
Some things were left in the past where they belonged. Everyone deserved at least one free pass, one “do over.” Maybe that’s the way it was for Heath….
Books by Jillian Hart
Love Inspired
Heaven Sent #143
*His Hometown Girl #180
A Love Worth Waiting For #203
Heaven Knows #212
*The Sweetest Gift #243
*Heart and Soul #251
*Almost Heaven #260
*Holiday Homecoming #272
*Sweet Blessings #295
JILLIAN HART
makes her home in Washington State, where she has lived most of her life. When Jillian is not hard at work on her next story, she loves to read, go to lunch with her friends and spend quiet evenings with her family.
SWEET BLESSINGS
JILLIAN HART
Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.
—James 1:17
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Letter to Reader
Chapter One
The jingle of the bell above the door announced a late customer to the diner.
Amy McKaslin glanced at the clock above the cash register that said it was eight minutes to ten, which was closing time, and sized up the man standing like a shadow just inside the glass doorway.
He wasn’t someone local or anyone she recognized. He was tall with a build to match. He wore nothing more than a flannel shirt unbuttoned and un-tucked over a T-shirt and wash-worn jeans. He had that frazzled, numb look of a man who’d been traveling hard and long without enough rest or food.
Road exhaustion. She’d seen it lots of times. He wasn’t the first driver who’d taken this exit off the interstate. It happened all the time. With any luck, he’d be a quick in-and-out, looking for nothing more than a shot of caffeine and a bite before he got back on the road.
That was a much better prospect than last night, when a half dozen high-school kids had piled into a booth. Amy enjoyed the teenage crowd, but it had been nearly midnight before she could lock up and head home. Not good when her son was waiting for her, and she was paying a baby-sitter by the hour.
Tonight, Westin would be waiting, too, and on a school night when little boys should be fast asleep. He was an anxious one, always worrying, and she prayed the lone stranger had somewhere he had to go, too. Someone who was waiting for him. She turned the sign in the window to closed before any teenage clique decided to wander in.
Forcing a smile after being on her feet since 6:00 a.m., she grabbed a laminated menu. “Table or booth?”
The loner shrugged, looking past her as if he didn’t see her at all. His eyes had that unfocused look drivers got when they’d been staring down pavement and white lines for too long, and the purple smudges beneath spoke of his exhaustion.
Yep, me too, buddy. She led him past the row of tables, washed and prepped for morning, to the booths in the corner, where the night windows reflected the brightly lit dining area back at her. Already she was thinking of home. Of her little boy’s after-supper call.
“Come home, Mommy,” he’d said in that quiet way he had. “I told Kelly not to read me any more of my story. You were gonna tonight, remember?”
She remembered. Nothing was more serious than the promises she made to her little boy. Almost there, she thought, as she watched the clock’s hands creep another minute closer to ten. Aware of the man behind her making less noise than a shadow, she slid the menu onto the corner booth.
She whipped out her pad. “What can I get you to drink?”
Haggard. That was one word to describe him. The overhead light glared harshly on his sun-browned skin and whisker-stubbled jaw as he folded his over-six-foot frame behind the table. “Coffee.”
“Leaded or decaf?”
“I want the real thing. Don’t bother to make fresh. If you got something that’s been sitting awhile, I’d rather have it.” He pushed the menu back at her. “A burger, too. With bacon if it’s not too much trouble.”
“Sure thing.” As she scribbled up the ticket, already walking away, something drew her to look one more time.
He had gone to staring sightlessly out the window, appearing tired and haunted. The black night reflected back the illusion of the well-lit café and his hollow face. The man wasn’t able to see through the windows to the world outside. It was within that he was looking.
Her heart twisted in recognition. There was something about him that was familiar. Not the look of him, since she’d never met him before, but it was that faraway glint in his eyes. One that she recognized by feel.
She, too, knew what it was like to feel haunted by the past. Life made a mark on everyone. She didn’t know how she saw this in this stranger, but she was certain she wasn’t wrong. The regrets and despair of the past yanked within her, like a summer trout caught on a fishing hook. As she grabbed the carafe from the burner, where it had been sitting since the end of the supper rush, she risked another glance at the man.
He sat motionless with his elbows braced on the table’s edge and his face resting in his hands.
Hopelessness. Yeah, she knew how that felt, too. Pain rose up in her chest, pointed like an arrow’s tip, and she didn’t know if it was the stranger she felt sympathy for or the girl she used to be. Maybe both.
She slid the cup and saucer onto the table. “I hope this is strong enough. If not, I’ll be happy to make a fresh pot that will hold up a spoon. You just ask.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” He didn’t make eye contact as he reached for the sugar dispenser on the small lazy Susan in the middle of the table.
Whatever troubled him on this cool late-spring night, she hoped at least a cup of coffee and a meal would strengthen him.
Something sad might have happened to him to make him a traveler tonight, she speculated. Maybe some family tragedy that had torn him from his normal life and had him driving on lonely roads through the nighttime. She knew that pain, too, and closed her mind against it. Some pain never healed. Some losses ran deep as the soul.
She put in the order, catching sight of her sister. “This is the last one. I already turned the sign over.”
Rachel glanced at the ticket and pivoted on her heels to remove one last beef patty from the cooler. “If you want to take the floors, I’ll total out the till. Have those other guys left yet?”
“No.” Amy had almost refused them service when they came in, a little too bright-eyed and loud. They’d quieted down once they started eating. “They were just finishing up when I walked by.”
“Good. I don’t l
ike them. I know they’ve been in before, but not this late.”
Amy knew what her sister didn’t say. Not when we’re alone with them. Yeah, that had occurred to her, too. Big-city crime didn’t happen in their little Montana town, but that didn’t mean a woman ought to let down her guard.
She could see the two rough-looking men through the kitchen door with their heads bent as they both studied the totaled check.
“Don’t worry,” she reassured her sister. “We aren’t exactly alone with them.”
“Good.” Rachel slapped the meat on the grill. “We may get out of here before eleven, if we’re lucky. Say, how’s Westin holding up?”
Westin. Amy’s stomach clenched thinking of all her little one had gone through. “He had a rough day, and now we’re just waiting for the test results. They can do a lot for asthma nowadays. It won’t be like what Ben went through.”
They both fell silent for a moment, remembering how ill their brother had been when he was Westin’s age. They’d had to keep oxygen in the house just in case of a severe attack. They’d almost lost him a few times, calling the ambulance while his lips turned blue and he struggled for breath that was impossible for him to draw in.
Amy’s stomach clamped into a hard, worried ball. It wouldn’t be like that for Westin. She would make sure of it. How, she didn’t know, but she certainly had the strength to will it. That, with prayers, had to make a difference, right?
“I slipped a little gift for him into your coat pocket. Don’t get mad at me. I couldn’t resist.”
“You got him that video game, didn’t you? You’re spoiling him, you know. It was supposed to wait until his report card.”
“Yeah, yeah, but you know me.” Sweetheart that she was, with a heart-shaped face and all gentleness, Rachel shrugged helplessly, as if she had no choice but to spoil her nephew.
Since it was impossible to be even a little mad at Rachel, Amy just rolled her eyes. “I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.”
“Oh, excellent!” Pleased, Rachel set the hamburger buns on to toast.
Yep, it was hard to do anything but be deeply grateful for her big sister. Amy gave thanks, as she always did. They’d lost their parents long ago, when they were all still kids. It had only made her hold tight to the loved ones in her life now. Her sisters, her brother, and her son. So tight, there was no way she’d let them go.
It looked as if the two men, who’d initially been upset there was no alcohol served in the diner, were getting ready to leave. Although Amy couldn’t smell alcohol on them, she suspected they’d imbibed sometime earlier in the evening. Not that she approved, but there was no outward reason to refuse service. In a small town, turning away customers tended to be bad for business.
Still, they’d done nothing more than laugh a little too loudly while they’d waited for their burgers. Now, with any luck, they’d pay and be on their way. She’d breathe easier once the door was safely shut behind them. They had that rowdy look to them. Men like that…no, it was best not to remember.
Her life was different now. She was different.
There was a ruckus from table five. “Hey, waitress! What pie do you got?”
Oh no, and here she’d been wishing them out the door. Amy had to dig deep to remain patient and courteous. She didn’t like the way they were looking at her. As if she were a slice of pie with whipped cream on top. “We have a few slices of apple left.”
“Nah. I was hopin’ for something sweeter.” The one on the left—with a gold cap on one front tooth—gave her a wink.
As if. “I’ll be your cashier if you’re ready.”
“It’s too bad about that pie. You must be just about done here. Maybe you’d like to come out with us?”
“No, I have to get home to my little boy.” She waited.
One gave her an oh-I’m-not-interested-now look.
The other didn’t so much as blink. “Then maybe you need a night out worse than I thought.”
“Sorry. Will this be cash or charge?” Hint, hint. Let’s go, boys. Out of my diner. She waited, trying to be courteous but firm.
“It’ll take us a minute.” The one who was not so interested in her reached into his back pocket for his wallet.
Good. Rachel’s call bell jangled, signaling the last customer’s burger was ready. She left the men to their arithmetic, glad for an excuse to put as much distance between them as possible.
She caught a movement in the window’s reflection. The loner was in the act of lifting his coffee cup. Had he been watching her?
“Hey, waitress.” They were talking to her again.
She dreaded turning around, but these weren’t the first tough customers she’d dealt with. “Yes?”
“Are you sure you don’t have a bottle or two hid in back? I know you said you don’t got beer to sell. But me and my buddy here sure could use a couple a beers.”
“Sorry, we don’t have a liquor license.”
“What kind of place don’t serve beer?”
“A family restaurant.” Amy kept her smile in place as she withdrew the order pad from her apron pocket.
The bigger of the two swore.
She flinched. Okay, she didn’t want any trouble. She wanted them gone, the faster the better. She pivoted on her heel, hoping this was the end of it. C’mon, just leave your money and go.
In the window’s reflection, she again noticed the lone stranger. Sitting hunch-shouldered as if uninterested, but his gaze was alert. He didn’t move, although she could feel how his every muscle was tensed like a wolf watching his prey. Waiting to spring.
It strengthened her. She knew it was the Lord at work in her life, as He always was. For every bad customer, there was always another who was not.
Thankfully, there was no trouble. The offending parties left a pile of greenbacks and pounded to the door, chewing on toothpicks and making as much noise as possible as they went. The bell chimed when the door shut.
Trouble averted. Relieved, she hurried over to turn the dead bolt. Thank you, Father.
Her reflection stared back at her in the glass. She saw a woman of average height and weight, with her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. Her face was shadowed by too many hollows. The circles beneath her eyes looked like gouges from too many nights without sleep.
Maybe tonight she’d sleep better. A girl had to hope. She had so much to do before she could get home and into her warm bed. There was this one more customer, and then clean-up, and she could be home by eleven, eleven-thirty, depending. Westin would be listening for her. The hard knot in her stomach relaxed a smidgen, just thinking of her little boy. Yeah, she couldn’t wait to get home to him. To see his sweet face.
Rachel peered at her over the hand-off counter, where a plate piled high with a deluxe bacon burger and fries waited beneath a warming light. “Our last customer looked road-weary, so I made the burger with an extra patty.”
“I thought you might.” Amy didn’t bother to change the total on the ticket she left on the table with the meal. “Can I get you anything else?”
The lone wolf was staring out the window again. He shook his head.
He seemed so far away. His black hair was cut short, but not too short. Just enough for the cowlick at the crown of his head to stick up. It made him seem vulnerable somehow, this big beefy man with linebacker’s shoulders and a presence that could scare off a mountain lion.
Curiosity was going to get the better of her, so before she could get caught staring at him, she left a full ketchup bottle next to the meal ticket and went to collect the money the other men had left.
“I don’t believe this. I should have known.” She recounted the stack of ones.
“What?” Rachel appeared in the doorway, dishcloth in hand. “Didn’t they pay?”
“For only half of the total. I should have watched them closer. I just didn’t want to be any nearer to them than I had to be.” It wasn’t the end of the world. It was only five dollars. “Men like that just make me so mad.”
A flash of movement caught her attention. The loner stood with the scrape of his chair. Without a word he took off down the aisle.
She looked at him with surprise.
“Should I give Cameron a call at home?” came the woman’s voice from the kitchen doorway. “He can handle it for us.”
The waitress dropped the bills back on the table. “It’s not worth it. Men like that—”
She didn’t finish the statement, but Heath Murdock could read it in her stance. She wrapped her slender arms around her narrow waist as if in comfort and he had to wonder if a man like the two lowlifes that were out in the parking lot had hurt her somewhere down the line. Not just a little, but a lot. And because he knew how that felt, he headed for the door.
The world was a tough place and sometimes it was enough to break a man’s soul. There was a lot he couldn’t fix that was wrong in this world and in his own life, but this…he could do this. The dead bolt clicked when he turned it and he went outside into the gust of wind that brought new rain with it.
He felt the woman watching him. He didn’t know if she approved, or if she was instead one of those ladies who disapproved of any show of strength. But it didn’t stop him. He knew what was right. And walking out on a check was stealing, plain and simple. Not to mention the disrespect they’d paid to the perfectly decent waitress who’d done nothing more than remain polite.
A small diner in a small town didn’t probably make much in sales. Heath knew he had justice on his side as he stalked across the parking lot. A pickup roared to life. Lights blazed in the blackness, searing his eyes.
Trouble. He could feel it on the knife’s edge of the wind. Through the blinding glare of the high beams, he made out a newer-model truck with big dirt-gripping tires. A row of fog lights mounted on the cab were bright enough to spotlight a path to the moon.
The engine roared, as the vehicle vibrated like a predator preparing to attack. Heath didn’t have much of a chance of stopping them now. Not when they were already in the cab and behind the wheel. When the engine gunned again, their crude words spat like gunfire into the air. The truck lurched forward with an ear-splitting squeal of tires.
