A Love Worth Waiting For and Heaven Knows

by Jillian Hart

  Don’t think about it. She took a deep breath and gave the door a push. Warm, grass-scented air caressed her face as she climbed out of the car. The gravel crunched beneath her heels and the wind tousled her skirt hem.

  Maybe it was the day, or the way Pastor Bill’s sermon had lifted her heart, but she felt as if the world had never looked so beautiful. The sky was a dazzling blue—truer than any blue sky she’d ever seen before. The mountains jagged and snow-capped, awash with sunlight like a row of uncut amethysts, enduring and breathtaking. Like faith.

  Good things were in store for her. She simply had to believe.

  “Alexandra! Come meet Bandit!” a cheerful voice called out, drawing Alexandra’s attention to the shadowed side of the garage, where Hailey perched on top of a chin-high wooden fence. She was no longer in her Sunday best, but in a pair of jeans, boots and a grape T-shirt. “Do ya like horses?”

  “I’m sure I’ll like yours.” John wasn’t in sight, so Alexandra gladly headed straight down the cemented path that hugged the long wall of the garage. Lilacs lifted budding lavender cones, brushing her arm and skirt as she swept by.

  She still didn’t see John. He was probably in the house. Good thing. Considering how she’d been feeling this morning, aware of his presence, of his warm breath on her ear, it was best to avoid him as much as possible. He was obviously a nice guy, but she didn’t feel comfortable being alone with any man.

  “My horse is named Bandit and I can ride her really good,” Hailey called out, swinging her feet. “See how pretty she is?”

  Alexandra hardly glanced at the horse. What she noticed were two very big, very male boots visible beneath the horse’s belly.

  John straightened up, knuckling back his hat to study her over the saddle horn.

  She skidded to a stop, her dress swirling around her. She felt melty inside, the way Hailey had described her ice-cream cone the other day. Melty and aware and uplifted. Just from seeing John.

  Not good. It was best to ignore it. “You have a beautiful horse, Hailey.”

  “I know. Bandit’s my very, very best friend, next to Stephanie and Christa. Oh, and Brittany, but only sometimes.” Hailey flipped her bouncy ponytail behind her shoulders. “Do ya wanna ride? I’ll let ya, if you want. I only let my best friends ride Bandit.”

  “I’d be honored, except I don’t know the first thing to do with a horse.”

  John strolled out from behind the mare, moving with the slow power of molten steel. “You can learn. It’s easy enough.”

  “Gee, thanks. I was hoping it would be really hard. I’m afraid of heights.”

  “Then I won’t torture you. I’ll just take you mountain climbing instead.” Laughter flashed in his dark eyes. “Hey, I’m glad you found us okay.”

  John hardly glanced at her. He doesn’t feel this same zing of interest that I do, she thought. Why was she disappointed?

  John’s attention was on his daughter, as it should be. Capable and gentle, he swept the little girl from the high rail of the fence to the soft grass-strewn ground beside the horse. “Want a hand up?”

  “Nope, I can do it. I’m big and stuff.” Hailey jabbed her toe into the stirrup, reaching high for the saddle horn. She stretched to her limit and struggled to mount up. John stood behind her, ready to catch her if she should fall.

  Just like a good father should.

  Her heart tumbled in her chest—a sign of doom. Don’t start seeing a fantasy where none exists, she reminded herself. That’s the mistake she’d made with Patrick. She’d seen all the wonderful things he was, and ignored the not-so-wonderful.

  Big mistake. One she wouldn’t make again.

  “Hey, Daddy! It’s Grammy!” High atop her horse, Hailey pointed toward the driveway, already sending her mare into a run. “Gotta go, okay? Bye!”

  They were alone. Just the two of them. She pretended to watch Hailey ride off, waving to her grandmother. But she was really trying not to notice John.

  It was impossible.

  Alexandra felt his presence, as if all her senses were honed onto him and nothing else. The sound his boot made when he placed his foot on the bottom fence rung. The whisper of his shirt sliding against the rough wood as he settled his forearms on the rail. The fall of his shadow across her feet.

  “I’d better go see if Bev needs any help.” It was the only excuse she could think of, but it gave her reason to leave.

  Except she felt the unmistakable weight of his gaze on her back, watching her walk away.

  Watching her. That didn’t sound good. But when she glanced over her shoulder, John was lifting a sun-browned hand to his mother.

  Not to her. Heat fired across Alexandra’s face. See? More proof that he isn’t interested. This reaction to him was probably exhaustion. She was putting in long days on the road. She wasn’t sleeping that well at night. She was off-kilter and so were her feelings. Right?

  Trying to make herself believe that explanation, she hurried through the shadows and into the blazing sunlight, leaving John behind.

  Bev was unloading plastic containers from the back seat of her luxury sedan. “Oh, there you are. I’m so glad you decided to join us. I made my special potato salad, which I usually only make for special occasions, but I was in the mood for it yesterday. Now I know the reason why.”

  Bev handed over the large container she held, reverently, as if it were priceless. “Heaven above must have known we’d have you for Sunday dinner. Hailey, go tell your father I hope he remembered to get propane for the barbecue.”

  “But, Gram, I really, really need a cookie. I’m gonna starve or something.” Hailey leaned over the top rail, while her horse stood placidly. “Please?”

  “We can’t have you keeling over from starvation, now, can we?” Pretending to be stern, although her eyes were twinkling merrily from behind her bifocals, Bev popped the top of a Tupperware container and held the bowl over the fence. “Just one, and it had better not spoil your appetite, young lady.”

  “I’m as hungry as a horse.” Hailey bit the corner off a bright pink iced cookie. “I’ll go tell Daddy.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  Alexandra helped herself to a few of the containers on the back seat. Might as well be useful. See how easy it would be not to think about John?

  “Providence has sent you to us, I have no doubt of that.” Bev gathered the last two bowls, tucking both of them neatly into the crook of her arm. “I want you to take a look at John’s house. You’ll see right off how much he needs to hire someone, and fast.”

  “Ah, now I know why you invited me to Sunday dinner.”

  “I confess to ulterior motives. But it just seems too perfect, is all. Hailey and you get along pretty well.”

  “I think she’s a great kid.”

  “See? I knew I liked you.”

  “I have great taste when it comes to people.” Alexandra didn’t know how else to say it. “Thanks for inviting me today, Bev.”

  “My pleasure.”

  Alexandra’s heart felt incredibly light. She’d needed this more than she’d realized. She’d been so unhappy with Patrick, and slowly growing unhappier with every day that passed, that she hadn’t noticed how bad it was.

  And how much of life she was missing out on.

  “See?” Bev pushed wide the ornate front door to John’s house and held an arm wide to the living room. “What can I say? Disaster. I’ve been trying to do what I can, of course, but what he really needs is a wife.”

  “He’s looking to remarry?”

  “Oh, I hope and pray. No, Bobbie’s death broke his heart clean in two, I tell you. I keep hoping he’ll find love again. Then again, who knows when it comes to the heart?”

  Alexandra’s throat tightened, and she couldn’t speak. She felt sad for John and his wife, and surprised at Bev’s words. Love like that didn’t exist, did it?

  “What happened to her?”

  “A climbing accident. Something went terribly wrong. John blames himsel
f. He cherished her, you know. She was his everything, and he hasn’t been the same since he buried her.” Sadness etched into Bev’s face, deep around her eyes and mouth, a measure of her own grief and loss.

  Real loss. It washed over Alexandra like a tidal wave. Cold and powerful, she was left reeling as Bev tapped away through the foyer and along chinked log walls where framed pictures were the only decoration.

  Pictures of family. Of Hailey smiling on top of her pony, her cowboy hat lopsided, grinning while she held a melting grape Popsicle. Pictures of Hailey as a toddler, so small and laughing, cradled in John’s protective arms. Images of Hailey as a downy-haired infant tucked beneath a pretty woman’s chin—John’s wife.

  It was impossible not to feel sorry for him. John’s heart was broken irrevocably, Bev had said. Did people really love one another like that? Or was it the fondness of the memory, the sorrow of loss that made the past seem better than it was? She didn’t know.

  “I’m ready to start grilling.” John strolled through open French doors and into the impressive kitchen. “Mom, you’re making Alexandra work, and she’s our guest of honor.”

  “Oh, I don’t mind—”

  He stole the bowl from her arms, standing so close to her that she could smell the comfortable scents of barbecue smoke and mesquite chips clinging to the sweatshirt he wore. Standing this close, she could see into his eyes. How dark they were, instead of filled with light. From grief?

  Alexandra remembered the picture of his wife, and how gentle her smile had been. She didn’t know what to say as John stepped away and snapped off the plastic lid of the container.

  “Mom, you are a wonderful woman. I was hoping you would make this.” He inhaled deep. “I’d better sample this. Just to make sure it’s good enough for everyone else to eat. I’m a pretty good taste tester. I’m going to get me a spoon—”

  “Stop that.” Bev playfully slapped the back of his hand as he pulled out a cherry-wood drawer in the center island. “I know what you’re up to, and you’ll wait to eat like everyone else. Really, John. You’d think you were a boy again. How is that going to look to Alexandra, when she’s trying to decide if she wants to work here or not?”

  Uh-oh. Alexandra stepped forward. As gently as she could, she tried to say, “Bev, I’m not—”

  “You are?” John interrupted, turning with the bowl in the crook of his arm. “Great. I’m glad you’re reconsidering. Look at the mess I’m in. Wait. Don’t look. It might scare you.”

  “I wish I could, but I can’t—”

  “Just give us a chance, dear.” Bev snapped open one container after another. “You could go other places and work for other people, but who could need you more than us?”

  “You’re pulling my leg. This place is immaculate.” Alexandra’s throat tightened, looking around at the cozy, well-appointed home.

  “Hailey needs you.” John scavenged through a drawer for a spatula. “If that makes a difference.”

  Alexandra didn’t know what to say. She’d been looking for a new start. The chance for a new life.

  Could it be true? Is this what the Lord had in His plans for her?

  “What do you think?” John squinted across the outdoor table at her, shaded by a big yellow umbrella, as she took her first bite.

  “Heaven with mayonnaise.” Alexandra couldn’t help a tiny moan of appreciation.

  “See, Mom? I told you.” John reached for the serving spoon. “Since it’s been officially tested and approved, I’m done waiting. I’m digging in.”

  “Serve your mother first.” Bev winked, holding out her plate, fully aware she was torturing her grown son. “Two big spoonfuls, please. How about you, Hailey?”

  “Yep. I want lots.” She held out her plate, too.

  “In some houses, it’s the man who gets served first.” Good-natured, John winked, and dumped a heaping serving of potato salad on Bev’s plate.

  “In some houses, in the fifth century. Don’t forget to serve your father. Gerald, only one scoop. We’re watching his cholesterol.” Bev leaned close to confess. “Alexandra, go ahead and start passing the chicken. Take a nice big piece. You’ll love John’s marinade. Hailey, honey, pass the biscuits, please.”

  John and his father were talking about a tractor engine, their voices pleasant rumbles as Alexandra selected a piece of deliciously fragrant chicken and set it on her plate. There was no strained silence, as she’d grown up with. Or the pretense of rigidly polite manners that had been so important to Patrick.

  Hailey was chattering away to her grandmother about her horse, and Bev was filling both their plates with wonderful food. Sweetly spicy baked beans and a green salad and biscuits so fluffy they looked like miniature clouds. Ice tinkled in a crystal pitcher as John refilled his glass with iced tea.

  “You’re pretty quiet.” He reached the short distance between them to fill her glass, too. “We’re an overwhelming bunch, aren’t we? My brother and his wife will be coming along after a while—they’re split between two families on Sunday. They usually bring dessert. Then it will really get wild. Ice cream. Cake. Scandalous.”

  “You do this every Sunday?”

  “Pretty much. Sometimes we meet at Mom and Dad’s. Sometimes here. Depends on who’s in the mood to do the most cooking.” John dropped spoonful after spoonful of sugar into the tall glass. “I want you to know my offer stands. The job is temporary if you want it that way. Sort of a test run, if you want. I pay well.”

  “I’m sure you do.” Now she felt uncomfortable. How could she admit why she couldn’t take the job? She started to tremble, a quivery feeling that raced from her midsection down to her toes. “This isn’t what I’m looking for.”

  “Then what is?”

  How could she tell him what she was really afraid of? “I have my reasons.”

  “I suppose it’s because of my mom. You heard her sing in the choir and the noise she makes scares you.”

  “Nope. I think Bev has a lovely singing voice.”

  Bev preened. “Thank you, dear.”

  John stirred his tea, making the ice cubes tinkle. “You won’t stay because of Hailey. She’s a wild one with all those lessons. You’re afraid you’ll run yourself ragged ferrying her to and from. She has a busy social calendar, too.”

  “I have piano lessons tomorrow,” Hailey announced. “Alexandra could take me ’n’ stuff.”

  “Fine, make it impossible to say no.” Alexandra knew how to play this game, too. She met John’s gaze without batting an eye. “The real reason I’m not sure I can take this job is you, John. I heard you sing in church. I absolutely cannot work for someone who’s that tone-deaf.”

  “She’s got your number, son!” Gerald called out.

  The family broke into howling laughter.

  Wouldn’t it be wonderful to stay here? The delicious salad tasted dry on her tongue as she tried to laugh along with Bev’s gentle teasing, and John’s good-natured banter in return.

  Her heart became heavier as the meal ended. John’s brother and his family showed up, and dessert was served with great gusto. The Corey family took their sugar intake seriously. Yes, it was sad she couldn’t stay here.

  After the dessert plates were eaten clean so that not even a crumb remained of the delicious Boston cream pie John’s brother’s wife had brought, Alexandra retreated to the kitchen. Since she couldn’t stay, she’d help out. She planned to be on the road heading south in an hour.

  “What do you think you’re doing, young lady?” Bev scolded as she opened the freezer compartment of the stainless-steel refrigerator. “You heard John. You’re a guest. You have no business washing our dishes. Unless that means you’re going to accept the job?”

  Alexandra took one look at the hopeful crook of Bev’s brow. “Good try, but I’m only doing these dishes, as a good guest should in return for a delicious meal.”

  “What about the ones in the oven?” Hailey clomped in, wearing her riding boots and her cowboy hat askew on her head.


  Bev frowned. “Don’t tell me he’s back to doing that.” She marched over to the oven and yanked on the door. “Out of sight, out of mind.”

  Hailey clomped close to inspect the mess. “Ew. They’re all gross.”

  “Okay, maybe John needs hired help more than I think.”

  “That John.” Bev shook her head. “If he keeps hiding them, how am I supposed to find them to wash?”

  “You’re not supposed to be washing my dishes.” John strolled in, carrying a stack of dishes from the table outside. “That’s why I hide ’em.”

  “No way, Dad. You hide ’em because you don’t want to do ’em. That’s what you said last night.”

  “I’m pleading the Fifth.” John set the plates on the counter, so close Alexandra could feel his presence, tangible as a touch, as powerful as a tornado rolling over her.

  It’s a good thing this is a one-sided reaction, Alexandra thought as she swiped a stoneware plate beneath the faucet and slid it into the dishwasher rack. She’d had enough of romantic entanglements for now. Especially with men who looked too good on the outside.

  He’s a decent man at heart, too.

  That truth bugged her big-time as she rinsed and stacked. She and Bev talked about gardening and the choir. But was it her fault her gaze kept straying to the open glass doors where John was?

  Maybe it never hurt to look at a handsome man. Maybe, after the emotional pain Patrick caused her, she needed to see that other men were different. See how gentle John was? She paused, leaving the water running, while she watched him swing his five-month-old nephew into the air, just high enough to make the infant squeal with delight.

  He’s a good father. He probably wanted a lot of children. How sad he never got the chance.

  “You want another one of those, I can tell,” Tom, his brother, was saying as Alexandra bent to fill the soap dispenser with lemony dishwashing powder. His deep voice was so like John’s, and carried just right, she couldn’t help listening.