A Love Worth Waiting For and Heaven Knows

by Jillian Hart

  “It’s tempting, but I’ll spare you this time.” Alexandra dropped her purse on the floor. “I’ll follow you to the grocery store.”

  “You’re going to have fun spending my money, aren’t you?”

  “We’ll just pick up a few things the puppy needs for tonight, but there’s a pet store in Bozeman that could be making a profit tomorrow.”

  John’s fist flew to his heart, as if she’d inflicted a mortal wound. “I’ll take it like a man and give you my credit card.”

  “And how exactly am I going to use your credit card without being arrested for fraud?”

  “I know the owner of the pet store. I’ll give him a call first thing in the morning.”

  “Good.” She tossed him a smile that could charm the sun out of the sky and slipped behind the wheel of her rusted yellow VW.

  Slim and lithe, as graceful as dreams, she lifted her delicate hand in a wave, silver rings flashing, before backing out of the driveway.

  “I love you, puppy, yes I do. You’re so cute,” Hailey cooed, touching noses with the tiny fluffy black dog that gazed up at her with sheer love in those chocolate eyes.

  Trouble. That’s all John saw as he pulled out onto the street. Next thing he knew the dog would be sleeping with Hailey. And then it was going to be on the furniture. He’d no longer be king of his own castle. The dog would be. Well, queen, since she was a female.

  Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. He reached over to rub a hand over the puppy’s warm downy back. A pink tongue darted out in a quick, grateful caress. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t gonna mind too much.

  “I’m gonna need a girl name. A real name,” Hailey chattered on over the Christian country station humming in the background. “Something really pretty, just as pretty as my cute baby puppy.”

  John ruffled her hair, too, and made her laugh. “I have every confidence you’ll come up with the best name.”

  “Well, yeah, Daddy. I’m good.” Hailey stared deeply into her puppy’s eyes. “How about Ariel? Nope. I know. Alexandra.”

  “That would get awful confusing with two Alexandras in the same house.”

  Hailey sighed, exasperated. “I know. Danielle. Nope.”

  John eased up on the gas. He hadn’t realized he’d been speeding, and he’d already caught up with the time-faded yellow Beetle puttering along the road in front of him. He could just barely see Alexandra’s cinnamon-dark hair. It was fluttering around her shoulders, whipped by the wind through the open windows.

  She’s so different from Bobbie.

  Where that thought came from, John didn’t know, but he didn’t like it. He was Alexandra’s protector. That’s what he was. He had no right watching the flick of her long hair in the breeze and seeing a woman instead of his duty. His chance to make amends.

  “Belle.” Hailey tilted her head to one side, contemplating that name. “Belle? Here Belle, girl?”

  The puppy kept licking Hailey’s chin.

  There was traffic in town, since it was nearly quitting time. He pulled up in a space next to Alexandra in front of the grocery. If he leaned out the window, he could make out the hardware store—looked like Warren was just closing up.

  “Hey, I’ll run in and grab some puppy food.” Alexandra leaned against the passenger side window, reaching through to stroke the puppy’s soft head.

  Her silver rings flashed, drawing his gaze as they always did. Small and fragile hands. So unlike Bobbie, who’d been strong and capable and athletic. Always the tomboy.

  Right there showed how wrong he was. If the day ever came when he’d paid enough for Bobbie’s death, he wouldn’t want a wife so fragile. So delicate. So easily hurt.

  He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, opened it and handed her a twenty. “Will that be enough?”

  “For now.” Her smile dazzled. She dazzled.

  He held his heart steady, refusing to feel anything at all.

  “Here, Daddy. Hold Jessica.” Hailey handed him the beloved puppy. “Nope. That’s all wrong.”

  “Don’t worry.” Alexandra’s soft, sweet alto rang like the gentlest hymn. “I bet she’ll name herself. Trust me.”

  Hailey put her hand in Alexandra’s, and the two trotted off, the taller, beautiful woman and the beloved little girl, and disappeared from his sight.

  “John, do you have any more newspaper?” Alexandra breezed into his kitchen, breathless and flushed, a smile shaping her soft mouth. “I’m afraid the puppy has used what I could find on the shelf.”

  “There’s the recycling bin in the garage.”

  “There is? I didn’t see it.” She flicked on the oven light and peered inside. “Looks like another ten minutes will do it. Let me get the puppy settled, and I’ll set the table for you.”

  “Your shift ended an hour ago. I’ll take care of it. And the newspaper, too.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “It’s about time I’m good for something.” He winked, forcing a smile.

  “Hmm. You seem to be useful at making your daughter very happy.” She smiled like a ray of sunlight on a bleak day, warming him straight through. Unaware of her effect on him, she disappeared down the hallway.

  What was bothering him? He couldn’t put his finger on it. Whatever it was, it had his stomach in knots.

  Was it the way she looked? No, because he’d hardly noticed she was wearing well-worn Levi’s and a baggy purple T-shirt with the University of Washington in faded gold letters. He wasn’t attracted to her—absolutely not. He was in control of his feelings.

  Something was bugging him, though. When he figured out what it was, then he’d be able to solve the problem. He wasn’t going to worry about it until then.

  He grabbed three plates from the cupboard and dealt them around the table. Alexandra might as well stay and eat with them, since she’d stayed late. It was the decent thing to do, a gesture a man who considered himself her protector would make.

  It had nothing to do with the fact that she was an extremely attractive woman. Because he simply wasn’t noticing.

  When he was done at the table, he headed straight for the garage, grabbed a bundle of newspapers from the bin. On the way through the house, he couldn’t help noticing the changes Alexandra had already made. The floors shone. The furniture was vacuumed and plumped and tidier. The big-screen television was dust free.

  Hey, now there was an improvement. He’d like that the next time the Mariners were playing. No more screen lint.

  Feminine giggles trilled like music down the hallway, drawing him closer. Hailey’s high bright laughter blended with Alexandra’s quieter, deeper chuckle, and that chuckle seemed to be the most wonderful sound he’d ever heard.

  “No, puppy, you’re supposed to go on the paper.” Hailey started to giggle harder. “Alexandra, she’s goin’ again.”

  “She’s going to be just fine once we’re not in here with her.” Alexandra was folding an old towel, made soft by wear, into a cozy piece of bedding. “She’ll probably cry for a while, because she’ll be lonely, but she’ll settle in.”

  “The teddy bear will help.” Hailey placed one of her favorite stuffed animals from years ago into the big cardboard box that was now stuffed with so much bedding, there was no room for the puppy. “Maybe she shouldn’t sleep by herself. She’s awful little.”

  Yep, here it comes. The plea to have the puppy in her bedroom. John braced himself, prepared to hold out for as long as he could—probably two hours tops. “The newspaper you requested.”

  “Just in time. The last of it has been properly used.” Alexandra snatched the bundle from him and dove into it, hard at work, her hair falling down to curtain her face, so all he saw was the part going straight down the middle of her head.

  There was something about that part in her hair. The way the fine line of porcelain skin was a contrast to the rich brown strands. Something that made him forget that she was vulnerable and alone and in trouble, and it was his job to protect her and instead made him notice she was
all woman, grace and poetry.

  Stop noticing her, John.

  Her slender fingers tucked a satiny lock of her hair behind her ear, revealing the soft curve of her cheekbone and the elegant shape of her small chin. Her bow-shaped mouth curved into a laughing smile as the puppy leaped up on her and then crashed down in the middle of the newspaper she was trying to unfold.

  The sharp rustle of newsprint made the tiny creature yip with delight, her tiny, furry body wiggling from head to tail.

  “Look at her. She’s so cute.” Hailey got down on all fours. “I love you so much. Yes, I do.”

  The little puppy leaped up to touch noses with her.

  That was simply too much sweetness for a man to take. John swallowed hard, trying not to feel too much of anything. Sometimes it could be so overwhelming, all this he’d been given, this daughter he treasured, this life he lived, the moments like this that were tiny pieces of forever.

  “I’d best go check on supper.” He moved away from the sounds of laughter and crackling newspaper and the puppy’s yips of delight.

  It was only when he was setting the casserole dish on the trivet in the middle of the table that it hit him what was wrong. It hit him as hard as a plane crashing down from the sky to the earth. As desolating as the fire and flame and metal tearing apart on impact.

  His knees gave out, his feet went out from under him and he landed in a chair, clinging to the edge, struggling for breath.

  This is what it had been like when Bobbie was alive. The low murmur of a woman’s voice down the hall. The bright feminine presence changing the house in some vital, undeniable way that could only be felt by the soul.

  In a way, that made new all the pain of the past, all the regret and anguish, as if the void in his life had been ripped open again, and there was no energetic Bobbie zipping around this kitchen, laughing while she worked.

  There was Alexandra. And he was glad for that.

  He’d had housekeepers before, but it had never been like this. He’d never really been in the house at the same time as those other women—young or old—who’d worked afternoons keeping watch over Hailey and his home.

  He hadn’t realized taking Alexandra into his life would bring him here, to this place of bleak, burning pain.

  The grief was over, but not the guilt. It hit him with the force of an inferno, leaving him weak and sweating, consumed and empty all at once.

  He had to find a way to pull himself together.

  “What about Maggie? I sorta like Maggie.” Hailey’s voice echoed through the house—she was in the hallway, coming closer.

  John realized his cheeks were wet and he swiped the dampness away. After a few deep breaths his knees held him up when he straightened from the chair.

  Just in time. Hailey bounded around the corner, tugging Alexandra by one hand. Alexandra shone, as if the armor she’d been hiding behind had been peeled back, to expose a truer, more open part of her.

  It was like looking at her for the first time.

  “Oh, no.” Alexandra glanced over her shoulder, her cinnamon-brown locks tumbling everywhere, catching the light, catching his heart.

  It’s because I can help her, when I failed Bobbie. That’s why I feel this way. John clung to that, determined to push away every other feeling until the pain and the anguish were gone. His hands still shook, though, when he rescued the salad from the refrigerator.

  “Is the puppy all settled?” At least he could keep his voice steady.

  “Yep.” Hailey dropped into her chair, unaware, as bouncy as ever. “Alexandra said I couldn’t bring a dog to the table.”

  “Probably not a good idea for tonight.” John kept his gaze firmly fixed on the tray in the refrigerator door that held the bottles of salad dressing. He grabbed both of them—Ranch for Hailey and Italian for him. Maybe Alexandra would like either one—

  There he went thinking of her again. But only in the protective, most noble of ways.

  “I should probably head out.” Her voice, and the pad of her step on the floor behind him. “I’ll leave you two to your dinner.”

  “Don’t think you’re getting out of here that easy.” He hit the fridge door with his foot. “You made dinner. You should help eat it. It’s only fair. What if the casserole tastes bad?”

  “You need an official taste tester, is that it?”

  “No. We need a guinea pig to make sure your casserole doesn’t make us sick.”

  “If I don’t keel over, then you’ll risk it?”

  “Exactly. It didn’t look so good when I took off the lid. Scary.”

  Hailey repositioned herself, clambering onto her chair with both knees to get a good look at the questionable casserole. “It does not, either, Dad! It’s all cheesy. It smells good.”

  “Smells can be deceiving.” He winked.

  There he went again, making her laugh, making her troubles disappear like dandelion fluff on the wind. “Fine. I’ll be the royal taste tester, since you need one.”

  “Knew you’d see things my way.”

  “I’ll warn you. This is my favorite recipe, so if you don’t like it, I’ll have to raid your mom’s recipe box. Wouldn’t it be too bad if I ran across the potato salad recipe?”

  “Dream on.” John set the bottles on the table. “It’s such a secret, it’s not written down. Mom’s committed it to memory and will only reveal the great truths of it when she’s on her deathbed. Or so she swears.”

  “Hmm. Getting that recipe is going to be a challenge.” Undaunted, Alexandra stowed her purse and took one of the extra chairs at the table.

  A terrible, high-pitched wail careened through the house and echoed in the rafters above.

  “What is that?” John boomed like a clap of thunder. “Is that the dog?”

  Alexandra shrank. She couldn’t help it. He was a big man, wide and strong, bounding out of his chair as if the house were on fire.

  His big hands closed into lethal fists.

  She acted without thinking. On automatic pilot, she was on her feet in front of John, blocking him from leaving the kitchen. “She’s just a baby. She’s crying. I’ll take care of it.”

  “She’s crying?” He stopped, the fierce look on his face falling away to concern. “I thought she was dying. Got trapped behind the dryer or something.”

  Alexandra took a step back, confused. He wasn’t angry?

  “Hailey, go check on her, would you?” John shook his head, relaxed, his hands slack. “That sounds like an air-raid siren. I thought we were under attack.”

  “It’s amazing how something so small can make such a loud noise.” Lame, Alexandra, real lame. But it was all she could think to say as the belated rush of adrenaline hit. There was no danger. John hadn’t been angry. He’d been concerned.

  As he was still.

  Hailey raced away to check on the puppy. Within seconds, the siren-pitched cry gave way to a yip of delight. “She’s okay!”

  “Good.” John swiped a hand through his hair, standing those thick dark locks on end, before pinning Alexandra with his intense gaze. “You could have told us about the crying thing.”

  Was he still angry? “I figured you knew that babies cried.”

  “Yeah, but, well…is it going to happen again?”

  “Probably.” Alexandra felt an instinctive tightening in her stomach. Her chest felt hot and closed, making it hard to draw in air.

  No, John wasn’t angry. He was a powerful man, that was all. He’d been ready to help the puppy, not hurt her.

  She’d been the one to read the situation wrong. To jump to the wrong conclusions. To assume a man who’d shown her nothing but kindness and generosity would also be capable of violent anger.

  A part of her figured any man was. That was the truth, and she hated to admit it.

  Remembering another man in her life, and his short-fused temper, she turned away, ashamed and confused and strangely blaming John for being a man, which made him like the others. And that wasn’t fair.


  “I don’t suppose we can muzzle her?” John’s eyes were flashing—he was teasing. Not at all angry.

  Not every man became angry the way her father had. Or Patrick. The tightness inside her ebbed away and she could breathe deep again.

  “I think you’re going to have to buy earplugs,” she was able to tease. “Or let Hailey keep the puppy with her.”

  “See? I knew it.”

  “Tomorrow I’ll get a kennel at the pet store so we can train her. Don’t worry—we’ll put the kennel in Hailey’s room.”

  “Good. I’m hungry. Let’s dish up.”

  “Sure.” She was still trembling with the aftereffects of an unnecessary fear. There was no danger. There never had been.

  “Hey, are you okay?” His touch was sure and his words gentle. He stood before her, not just any man, but one of strength and goodness. Her very own hero.

  How could anyone be so wonderful? So true?

  She withdrew her hand and put distance between them. “I’m just hungry. Are you still afraid to try my cooking?”

  “Shaking in my boots.” John strode easily away in that powerful, athletic gait of his as if nothing were wrong, as if nothing had changed.

  But something had.

  Her hand tingled, warm and wonderful, where John had touched her. Even hours later when she was alone in the little bedroom in Bev’s rental cottage, when she couldn’t sleep. She sat up at the open window, remembering the heat of his touch, the connection of it, and watched a sickle moon rise into the starlit sky.

  Chapter Nine

  There was a creaking sound coming from the back of the house. The buzz of the tiny nine-inch television covered it up—almost. Alexandra’s spine snapped straight. The sharp buzz of adrenaline fired into her veins and she flew off the edge of the couch.

  There it was again. She didn’t know where to run. Her feet were taking her into the bedroom. Even in the dark she could see the white curtain snap in the breeze of the open window. A window she’d left shut tight.

  The darkness moved. The shadows became a man, and the faint gleam of metal became a gun aimed at her heart.