Sweet Blessings (Love Inspired)

by Jillian Hart

  Chapter Nine

  She found him in the snow, just standing there as if he’d gotten only that far before the pain took over. Tiny perfect crystal flakes had gathered in his dark hair and graced the breadth of his shoulders. He was such a big strong man and yet how could any one person be mighty enough to withstand the immense grief he’d known?

  Sympathy moved through her as she laid a hand on his wide back. She wasn’t surprised at all that he felt like steel. But she wasn’t prepared for the virulent explosion of emotion, like a supernova’s shock waves, that radiated from him and into her. She felt as if she could feel his soul.

  Oh, Heath. She’d never known such agony; not the loss of her parents when she was young, not the desperate life in a cruel city. Nothing she’d been through compared to the pain she felt rolling through her.

  It was an all-encompassing pain. And how could it be anything else? A child was infinitely precious. How well she remembered the thrill and the intense burst of love she’d felt the first time she’d held her son in her arms. She tried to imagine Heath with his son. The pride he would have felt. And more, so much more. He would have harbored every hope of happiness for his son. A joyful, carefree childhood and the chance through education or training to achieve his dreams.

  She knew, too, Heath would have dreamed of spending the years to come with his boy. Of lazy summer afternoons fishing along the shady banks of a quiet river. Of loud roaring crowds and hot dogs and a perfect view of home base. Of college graduation and the pride a father took in his son growing into a fine man.

  The ashes of those dreams remained, imprinted forever into Heath’s soul. But otherwise, they were gone like ashes scattered in a bitter wind.

  She leaned her forehead against the unyielding plane of his shoulder blade. She was barely aware of the bitter cold, accumulating snow and dissipating fog curling around them, shrouding them from the neighbors, from the street, from the world.

  There were just the two of them and Heath didn’t move. Except for the rise and fall of his chest and the thump of his heartbeat, he could have been cast in stone. In some ways, Amy realized, he was.

  She hadn’t held a man in a long time, but she simply did it without knowing why. She wrapped her arms around his waist, feeling the thick muscled feel of him, and held on. Overcome, she pressed her cheek against his back and did the only thing she could. She let him know that he wasn’t alone.

  And so they remained until the sun warmed the cold black mountains to the east. The first streaks of gold haloed the tiniest of snowflakes that fell like a promise over the crisp white earth. Dawn came as wide streaks of light broke free from behind the mountains.

  Heath slipped from her arms, without a word of explanation or apology. She pressed the keys to her car in his hand along with the thick fold of bills—her tip money from yesterday, since his paycheck was still half-written on her kitchen table.

  He didn’t say a word as he pushed the keys and money back into her palm. Pure pain twisted his face as he walked into the glare of the sunrise and disappeared from her sight.

  The most beautiful mornings seemed to always follow the cruel storms.

  The cheerful sun had Amy blinking against the brightness as lemony rays shot through the slats of the diner’s white window blinds. She poured two cups of coffee from the first batch of brew of the day. The front door was still locked—they had four minutes to go until opening time, and she needed it.

  Stifling a jaw-splitting yawn, she brought both cups of coffee to the far booth near the kitchen, where Jodi was lacing up her tennis shoes. She was bleary-eyed from working a late shift at her second job. Single moms had to do what they could to make ends meet, even if it was working late at night.

  The dawn seemed unaware of their indifference. Sunshine beamed between the slats in the opened blinds and warmed the morning. Amy tried to keep her thoughts on the day ahead—Westin had a doctor’s appointment this afternoon and she needed to go grocery shopping. She had to call Kelly because, with Heath gone, she was likely going to have to work a shift tonight and would need a baby-sitter.

  “I suppose Paige’ll be here soon on a rampage.” Jodi winked as she gave the sugar canister a nudge and it slid to Amy. “She’s been gone for two weeks. She’ll have all kinds of energy saved up for us. I’m looking forward to it.”

  “Sure, because you’re not related to her.” Amy loved her oldest sister. Everybody did. Paige was just…used to being in charge and that had been fine when Amy was ten but now that she was twenty-five, it was a different story.

  Plus, when Paige found out Heath was gone, Amy was going to get another lecture on the proper method of interviewing employees to safeguard against this kind of thing. Poor Paige, she did everything she could to protect herself, to keep bad things from happening. She tried so hard, but, as far as Amy saw, there wasn’t much to be done about preventing some things.

  Just like with Heath. Amy dumped plenty of sugar into her coffee and stirred, watching the dark liquid, remembering how Heath had made her hot chocolate last night. Odd, she couldn’t remember the last time a man had made her anything at all—maybe if she could remember her father, but she couldn’t. The everyday minutia of that happy life had blurred with time. She couldn’t draw his face in her memory anymore. And as for Westin’s father, well, he was more the kind who demanded to be waited on.

  Remembering how lost Heath had seemed, shrouded by fog, blanketed by snow, she hoped that wherever he was, he’d found peace. Surely God took special care of lost souls, saved or not. She’d always found great comfort that in spite of the dark, lonely time in Seattle when she’d turned her back on her faith, God was watching out for her regardless.

  Not that she would have recognized it at the time, but she was wiser now. She had faith that Heath wasn’t alone—not truly.

  Across the empty main street a freight train rumbled along the tracks, the boxcars hiding the green park and meadows as they rolled endlessly on. Amy sipped her coffee, savoring the peace, and tried again not to think about Heath. Tried not to wonder where he was. Had he found a motel to catch a few hours sleep before driving on?

  Finally, the caboose capped the end of the long procession and, as the train disappeared from sight, the town fell silent and motionless. Not even the white-faced Herefords in the field behind the tracks moved. Nor did the thickets of buttercups and dandelions. If she squinted, she could see the brand-new roofs of homes in the subdivision beyond that. All was still there, too.

  Peace. Amy absorbed it as she sipped her coffee.

  “There’s Mr. Brisbane’s truck.” Jodi swigged back the last of her coffee. “Time to get to work.”

  Amy took her cup with her, leaving Jodi to flip around the open sign and unlock the front door. It was a few minutes before six, but for the morning group, it didn’t matter. They were more family than customers anyway.

  Amy just wished she wasn’t so beat. Exhaustion weighed her down, and she felt as though she was moving in slow motion as she pushed through the swinging doors into the kitchen. She was on the grill for the breakfast shift, so her thoughts were already turning to putting on extra bacon for Mr. Winkler and maple sausage for Mr. Brisbane. She was thinking ahead to their orders—she needed to open a new can of jalapeños—so when she saw the hulking man at the grill, she didn’t recognize him. Adrenaline shot into her blood. Oh, no, more trouble…

  No, it was Heath. He was at the grill. He was starting to cook.

  What was he doing here? She hadn’t spotted his pickup in the back lot when she’d arrived. She hadn’t heard him come in, but it really was him. He didn’t look up as he slapped thick strips of bacon onto the grill. The sizzle and snap filled the long stretch of silence as her thoughts switched tracks and she realized that he was real and no dream.

  “‘Mornin’.” Abrupt, cold as glacial ice, he kept his back firmly turned. He finished with the bacon and began setting links of sausage on the grill.

  He’d been busy while
she’d been in the dining room drinking coffee. Bread stood in the industrial-sized toaster ready to be put down. The pancake batter was mixed, and he’d already put a pan of muffins in the oven. Incredible.

  “Good morning.” Amy opened the fridge and pulled out a big batch of cinnamon rolls, iced and fresh and ready to be heated. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

  Heath remained silent and stiff. A stone statue couldn’t have been less interactive.

  He stared through the order-up counter into the dining room while he worked, as if he were very interested in Jodi’s conversation with Bob Brisbane about the snow that had come and gone, and the damage to the front windows.

  The kitchen seemed silent in contrast. Way too silent. Questions rushed to the tip of her tongue, but she didn’t ask them. She didn’t know why Heath had returned, but she sensed if she asked him about it, then he’d be gone for good. So she reset the oven, careful not to get too close while she rescued the perfectly baked muffins.

  “Sorry I’m late.”

  He didn’t sound sorry, he sounded empty. “It was just a few minutes. Don’t worry about it.”

  “It won’t happen again.”

  “Okay.”

  He was treating her as if their earlier emotional intimacy had never happened. She could still feel the deepest of sorrow clinging to him. And if he needed distance to cope, she could give him that. It wasn’t as if there could be more anyway. She wasn’t looking for love—that was absolutely out of the question. Maybe they would wind up as friends, and a girl could never have too many of those blessings.

  Heath looked like someone who could use a friend, too. “Did you get any sleep?”

  “I didn’t, but that’s not unusual.” She loaded the industrial-sized toaster as the door jangled, announcing another customer. “You?”

  He shook his head instead of answering and turned his back. His message was clear. The conversation, such as it was, was over.

  The deputy shouldered through the threshold, uniformed, his hat in hand. He caught her gaze, nodded once as if he wanted to speak with her when she got the chance, and took a table near the back.

  Since Heath looked purposefully busy, keeping his back rigid, his head turned, it wasn’t hard to figure out there was no point trying to help out in the kitchen. He could handle it, and he clearly wasn’t comfortable around her, so she let him be. On her way past the coffee station, she snatched the carafe and the back of her neck tingled. She knew Heath was watching her, although when she looked up, his attention was on his work.

  It was likely to be a busy morning, she thought as she squinted at the sun-bright windows. Several pickups and cars were starting to fill the parking slots outside. Jodi was busy with the regulars, so Amy grabbed a folded newspaper and headed straight for Frank’s table.

  She didn’t ask if he wanted coffee, he always wanted coffee, so she simply turned over the cup in its saucer and filled it with the steaming brew. “I don’t know if I thanked you enough for all you did last night.”

  “It’s my job, you know that. I was glad I was able to help out.”

  “It wasn’t your job to stay after those men were arrested. Or to carry plywood and nail it up, and nothing you say is going to convince me otherwise.” She handed him a menu. “Will those guys be out on bail anytime soon?”

  “The bail bondsman wouldn’t cover them, so they’re staying until their hearing on Monday morning. Maybe a stint in lock-up will give them time to do a little thinking, and they’ll straighten up.”

  “I hope so, for everyone’s sake.” At least she didn’t have to worry about any more retribution, at least for now. She trusted the local law enforcement to keep an eye on the situation. Just think, if both the deputy and the sheriff hadn’t been so willing to hop out of bed in the middle of the night, how much more damage would those two drunks have done?

  Amy shuddered at the thought. “Do you need some time, or do you know what you want?”

  “I already have a hankering for your eggs Benedict.” He scanned the listings. “You wouldn’t be able to make that a combination meal for me, would you?”

  “For you, anything.” She took back the menu, scribbling on the ticket as she went and underlining, Generous Portions, because she owed Frank, too.

  “Order in.” She clipped the ticket to the wheel, but Heath ignored her as he sprinkled cheese into the open face of a cooking omelet.

  It was pretty clear this was how it was going to be between them. As the morning passed in a flurry of activity, Heath didn’t look at her once. He spoke to her only when absolutely necessary for the job.

  While she was disappointed, if that’s what he needed, then fine. Thinking about what he’d lost, she gave deep thanks for her son. The best gift she’d ever been given. She couldn’t let her mind roll forward to imagine losing Westin—no, she couldn’t think about it. She just couldn’t.

  But for what Heath had suffered, he had her respect. She didn’t question him. She didn’t try to talk to him more than necessary. Paige came in, all aflurry, bent on calling every last glass man in the phone book to get the best price. She was a good businesswoman, but Amy’s heart was no longer in the loss of a window or the thoughtless retribution of two sorry men who’d been fired from the mill, as Frank had told her on his way out the door.

  She might have a ten-year-old car and a job that wasn’t fancy, exciting or impressive, but she could provide for her son. She lived modestly and she didn’t have a high-school diploma. Some people might not think she had a lot, but they would be wrong. She had everything. Everything that mattered.

  Although the morning was busy, she made sure she found time to give Paige a hug, call her son before Rachel took him to school, and thank God for the blessings in her life.

  Rachel poked her head around the corner and into the small space where Amy was popping aspirin for her headache. “Is the coast clear?”

  “It’s clear. Paige went to the bank.” Amy tipped back her head and swallowed. The aspirin stuck in her throat, and the acrid bitter taste filled her mouth. She washed it down with her lukewarm soda—it wasn’t much help. “It’s almost time for me to go pick Westin up from school. I’ve almost got these orders done.”

  “The ones I was supposed to do?” Rachel brightened like the first star on a clear summer’s night. “Oh, Amy. I love you, I love you, I love you. Oh, you know how I hate doing paperwork.”

  “That’s what you get for promising to buy out Paige’s share of the restaurant next year.”

  “I know.” Rachel glanced heavenward. “I’m going to need some help with God on that one, but I’ll get the hang of crunching numbers. Really, I will.”

  “Or you’ll get me to do it.” With a wink, Amy pushed away from the desk, taking her soda with her. “I’m gladly relinquishing the paperwork to you. I’ll keep my cell on if you have a question. I think I did everything right, but you never know.”

  “Oh, I owe ya! Thanks.” Rachel lowered her voice. “Is Heath still working out as well?”

  “He handled the breakfast and lunch crowd like a pro. We couldn’t have found anyone better.”

  “Oh, I’m so glad. He’s heaven-sent, I have a feeling about it.” Rachel backed out of the way, since the built-in desk was at the back of the closet-office and there wasn’t a lot of room to turn around in the narrow space. “Oh, and you’re out of sugar. I added it to the bottom of your grocery list, though.”

  “You’re a sweetie. Thanks.” Amy grabbed her purse and caught sight of Heath putting the last of the dishes in the dishwasher. He snapped his head back to his work, as if he’d been listening, or at least watching for her.

  A muscle tensed along his jaw before he turned completely away.

  Amy looked at the long lean line of his iron-hard shoulders and remembered how cold his back had felt against her cheek. She left without a word, without even saying goodbye, figuring he wanted it that way. Rachel had to be right—Heath was a blessing, and she prayed hard, hoping he could sta
y on. But if he couldn’t take being around children, and a lot of children came to the diner, then she’d understand.

  The screen-door hinges squeaked, but it was a pleasant sound as she stepped out into the beautiful day. The fragrance of the lilacs carried on the wind, and she breathed deep. The warm fresh air invigorated her, at least a little. It was hard to believe last night had been so bleak, but a few puddles remained as a reminder and she stepped around them.

  It was a spring day like so many that had come before. Like so many that would follow today. But the moment seemed brighter, accented by the chirp of birds and the meow of a cat enjoying the shelter beneath her car. As she knelt to shoo it gently away, apple blossoms fluttered along the warm rays of the sun.

  As tired as she was, she felt as if she’d picked up a second wind. The thought of spending the afternoon with her son picked up her spirits. She tossed her purse on the sun-warmed seat, rolled down her window and dug her keys out of her hip pocket.

  “Amy?”

  Heath stood in the shade of the building, blending very neatly with the shadows in the dark jeans and T-shirt he wore. His hands were jammed into his pockets, his arms muscular and his frame lean. He looked ready for a fight.

  Had he come to explain himself? Or to give his two-weeks’ notice? Either way, she saw a man struggling. A man alone.

  She glanced at her wristwatch. “I have a few minutes before school lets out. What do you need?”

  “To apologize.” He ambled forward, tentatively, into the scorching kiss of the afternoon sun.

  “For what?”

  Somewhere down the street a dog barked. She waited as he came closer. Exhaustion had dug harsh lines into his noble face. He walked slowly, and it was as if all the life inside him had gone out. “For walking away from you like that. It was rude.”

  “I think I understand.”

  His head rolled forward and he gasped for breath, as if she’d struck him. But it was from the truth of his past, the fresh mention of what he’d lost.