A Love Worth Waiting For and Heaven Knows (27 page)

It had nothing to do with Alexandra. That's why he couldn't look anywhere else as she gazed up at him with those deep luminous eyes. Why he felt entranced when the breeze caressed a lock of her silken hair against the soft curve of her face. She looked a little better tonight, more relaxed. More assured.

He liked seeing that change in her.

“I'll be right back.” Her numerous silver rings
flashed in the sunlight, drawing his attention to those slim hands of hers, so delicate and feminine, so graceful even doing something ordinary like holding a plastic glass full of iced tea.

Beautiful hands. She was beautiful in every way, and it ensnared his heart and broke it all at the same time.

You can't have her, John. And if she knew what you'd done, she wouldn't want you. He squeezed his eyes shut, blocking out the sight of her walking away from him, but he already knew how she walked. He could see it in his mind's eye. The curled ends of her brown hair swaying with her gait. The quiet way she moved, like a morning breeze in an alpine meadow. The way she gave a little flick of her wrist when she reached for the handrail. Her sneakers padded down the steps, and the bottom stair squeaked when she stepped on it.

You're in love with her, John. The single truth ran through his mind like the clear chime of a church bell, leaving no doubt. He wanted to deny it. He wanted to be noble and say there was no way he'd allow himself to feel that way—he had no right, it was not possible, it was only longing and loneliness and anything else he could think of.

But there was no excuse on earth that could change the sharp pain that expanded with every beat of his heart. He loved Alexandra. The way a man loved a woman he wants to marry—truly and deeply.

He felt as if the sun had gone out. The brightness dimmed from the day, and the shadows crept through him with the cold fingers of a winter's night. He felt trapped in a cold dark place he couldn't climb out of, and he watched, as if at a great distance, as Alexandra breezed across the lush green lawn, her voice a dulcet tone that touched his soul.

He couldn't hear what she was saying. She handed the glass to Bev, with that gentle quiet smile that made his soul ache with a longing so intense, he'd didn't know which way was up or down.

He loved Alexandra. It coursed through him like a raging river in a time of flood. Like blinding sunlight glaring off a mountain glacier that had been icing over and thawing, icing and thawing for a thousand years. Like a violent clap of thunder overhead that was the only sound in the world for that one brief instant, so loud and frightening and overwhelming, it made the ground shake.

I can't feel this way. John wanted to pray for this staggering emotion to lift from his heart, never to return. He felt choked and suffocated all at once, holding back the bright hot flood of love from taking over his soul.

He could never let anyone know that he loved her. Especially Alexandra. So angelic and perfect and unbelievable. Look how she smiled. When her smile reached her eyes, and made them shine with light, he could see heaven.

He felt unworthy to the core. To his soul. He could not move, paralyzed on the spot, as Alexandra knelt to pat the puppy's soft head. Every movement she made was gentle and loving—how she ruffled her fingertips through the pup's soft black fur, the tone of her voice and the way she laughed so wonderfully with Hailey when the little girl bent close.

I don't deserve to love Alexandra. She deserves better.

It was tough, burying the feelings deep, but he did. He had no right to her. He couldn't stop the powerful tides of his heart as he watched her steal the extra bubble wand from Hailey's outstretched hand and keep it high as the puppy leaped. Her soft laughter filled his life and his heart like spring did the breeze, like dawn changed the world, and he was changed.

He dared to look long enough to see Alexandra sweep the soapy wand along the ground, creating giant bubbles for the puppy to chase.

“Look, Daddy! She can sure jump high!” Hailey gleefully swiped her wand, too. More iridescent bubbles rose from the ground, lifting into the air. “Did you see that? She can jump as high as an angel.”

“Look.” Alexandra made more bubbles with the elegant sweep of her slim arm. The puppy leaped into the center of the big bubble, popping it, but for an instant the iridescence enveloped her.

“Angel wings.” Alexandra formed another long bubble, and the pup leaped into the center of it again.

“Cool! I know! I know!” Hailey's joy filled the air like heaven's touch. “I'm gonna name her Angel.”

“Perfect,” Alexandra praised. “A girl can never have too many guardian angels.”

“That's right,” Bev agreed.

John had never felt so bleak, so disconnected from life, even though he forced his feet forward, pretending nothing was wrong. Pretending he didn't want to draw Alexandra into his arms, hold her against his chest and never let go.

W
ith the warmth of the evening still lifting her spirits and the temperate breeze whipping through the open windows of her Bug, Alexandra struggled not to think of John.

Impossible.

They had a connection. She felt it when they touched. When they talked. When he made her laugh. No man had ever made her feel this way. She was afraid no man ever would.

John wasn't going to marry again. He wasn't going to fall in love with her. She knew that. Was she even ready to love someone new, after Patrick? How did she stop her feelings?

John probably had no clue she felt this way about him. He was simply a kind man and a Good Samaritan. It wasn't as if she could ever let him know how she felt. Right?

She rounded the last bumping corner of the gravel driveway and saw the strange car parked in front of the little yellow cottage tucked in a stand of cottonwoods. With the thick evening shadows, she couldn't see what kind of car it was. Except that she didn't recognize it as belonging to any of the Coreys.

Patrick. She stomped on the brakes, the wheels locked up and the tires skidded in the gravel. Dust flew around her as she sat with her fingers gripping the steering wheel so tight, they ached. Her pulse thudded in her throat as she sat stock-still in the road, in plain sight of the house. It was too late to turn around. He would already have seen her.

What do I do, Lord?
She took a deep breath, ready to shift into reverse. Wait. Those were Montana plates. A woman stepped out of the shadows, someone about her age, wearing a pair of jeans and a grass-green sweater with a big fish on it. Her smile was friendly and she looked familiar. Oh, Alexandra had seen her in church. She'd been sitting on the pew in front of them.

She looked nice, too, like she'd be a good friend. Hopeful, Alexandra climbed out of her car. “Hi.”

“Hi, I'm Kirby McKaslin.” She pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, as if she were a little nervous. “I didn't know if you'd be interested, but a bunch of us meet for Bible Study every Tuesday night at the town coffee shop. Would you like to join us?”

“Yes.” An evening of fellowship was something
she'd needed desperately. “The coffee shop in town? The one on the corner?”

“That's the one. If you want, you can ride with me. We can go together.”

“Great. Let me get my Bible.” Heaven was smiling on her today, Alexandra thought, as she raced inside. She felt like she used to, before Patrick, when she was free to do anything she wanted without worrying how he would react. What he would think.

She didn't have to look over her shoulder as she locked the house up tight and followed Kirby to her car.

Later that night, as she finished her prayers and crawled beneath the quilt Bev had dug out of her hall linen closet, and between the softest sheets she'd ever known, Alexandra gave thanks for the best day she'd had in years.

When she woke up with the first rays of the sun smiling through the crack in the curtains, she remembered the verse from Jeremiah. Good things
were
happening to her. Hope began seeping into her heart again, warm and substantial.

She had to deal with this
thing
she felt for John. This infatuation, for the lack of a better word. A crush. She had to recognize it for what it was. It was all one-sided. Anything coming of it was impossible. She needed to concentrate on the problems she already had. She didn't need to go searching for
more problems by mistaking kindness for romance—besides, John wasn't interested in marrying a second time.

After she'd showered and dressed for the day, Alexandra grabbed her devotional and her Bible from the nightstand. The kitchen was dim, and she pulled the curtains open. What a view.

She'd been here long enough, quietly in one place. If Patrick were following her, he'd have caught up with her by now. The tension coiled inside her began to unwind as she sipped her cup of coffee and gazed out the small window at such a great, beautiful world.

When she opened her devotional to the marked page, she had to marvel at how many times she found the passage she most needed to see—when she needed to see it.
I am leaving you with a gift—peace of mind and heart. And the peace I give isn't like the peace the world gives. So don't be troubled or afraid.

She felt stronger. Better.

Peace touched her, not only from the beautiful mountains jutting ruggedly toward the crystal-blue sky and the rolling green meadows in every direction. But from within. She let peace fill up the wounded places within her heart, like light chasing away the shadows, making her whole.

Alexandra opened the window and breathed in the morning air, letting the warm wind touch her
face. This is where she was meant to be. Right here. Right now. She could feel it down deep.

The sound of a pickup's engine cut through the serenity of the morning. She figured it was probably Gerald, driving along the main driveway from the farmhouse. When she spotted a bright red truck, she was surprised.

John.

 

What was he doing? John couldn't begin to explain it as he cut the engine. The little rental house, which had long been the hired man's house, before the harvesting was hired out, had seen better days, but it had never looked quite so charming as he gazed on it now. That had to do with the woman standing in the threshold, the sunlight streaking auburn highlights into her silken hair that framed her heart-shaped face—the face of the woman he loved.

You're in big trouble, John, if you let your feelings get the best of you. He took a steadying breath and hopped out of the truck.

She was coming toward him in slow steps across the porch, hesitant and demure. The light blue denim shorts and dark blue T-shirt made her look like something in a fashion magazine. With her bare feet, she looked so casually beautiful he couldn't make his brain function well enough to figure out what to say.

“This is a surprise.” She leaned one slim shoulder against the support post.

The first thing he noticed was that her smile shone in her eyes, bright and true and more amazing than anything he'd ever seen. She made him feel more everything than he'd ever felt. Suddenly he was aware he was slouching a little bit, so he stood up a little straighter. And his hair was tumbling into his eyes—he'd better remember to get a haircut.

Hold on, John. It's not like you're going to start dating her. What you feel is one thing, but there's only one outcome here. She can never be mine.

“I know it's early, I don't mean to interrupt. I just dropped Hailey off at the bus stop. Figured I might as well bring you this, since I had it. Thought you could use it.”

“Oh?”

Good thing she didn't look at him like a woman captivated. She seemed friendly enough, but not coy, not interested in him. That made it easier to hand her the small bag as if it wasn't a big deal.

It wasn't, really. He was simply doing his best to protect her.

He liked the way she lit up when she looked inside the bag. It made him feel good, as if he'd done the right thing.

“A cell phone.”

“Figured you didn't want to be stranded out here
without a way to call for help. Not that you'll need it. But just in case.”

“That was thoughtful of you, John.”

“Had an extra one sitting around.” That was almost the truth, he thought guiltily, as he moved close. So close, the apple scent of her shampoo tickled his nose. He could see the flecks of black in her brown eyes. He could sense the warmth of her spirit, of her soul, as if it were a match to his.

He jerked back as if burned. Creating distance. Putting enough space between them. Still, he could feel her, as if their hearts beat together. From five feet away.

What was he going to do?

Anguished, he walked away, calling over his shoulder in a strained voice he hoped sounded normal enough. “I'll be late tonight. Got some volunteer stuff in town. Just go ahead and drop Hailey off at Mom's.”

“No problem.” Her smile was pure sunshine and genuine appreciation. “Thanks again, John.”

“Hey, no problem.”

The way she said his name twisted him up inside. Her dulcet voice, her warmhearted tone… No, he couldn't do this anymore. He marched across the gravel to his truck, yanking open the door blindly and landing on the seat, breathing as hard as if he'd climbed Pike's Peak.

She lifted her free hand, waving in her dainty,
female sort of way, a beautiful, just-right way that made him hurt even more.

He put his truck in gear and raced away, churning gravel and dust in his wake, but he didn't care. He had to get out of there. Away from her. The image of her grew smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror, a lone woman standing on a crooked porch, watching him go.

 

Something had gone wrong. She didn't know what it was, not exactly, she thought as she wrung out the mop. Soap bubbles popped in the air as she lowered the mop to the floor. She swished hard, breathing heavy, intending to wash this floor better than any housecleaner before her ever had, but little Angel leaped into the way, growling in play.

John had turned away so abruptly this morning. Was it because of something she did? How could it be? There could be only one logical explanation—he'd stepped so close to her she could feel the heat from his arm on hers. They'd almost been touching. So close she could smell the spicy aftershave clinging to him, and the fabric softener on his shirt.

Her stomach had flip-flopped strangely and for one moment she'd turned to look at him, at the shaved-smooth cut of his strong jaw and his rugged profile.

What would it be like to have reached out and laid her hand on his arm? Would he feel as hard and substantial as he looked? And what was wrong with her anyway that she kept thinking of these things?

She'd like to explain it away, but she couldn't. The plain truth was that her attraction for John Corey wasn't fading away. It was growing stronger every time she saw him.

Just stop thinking about him. You're just looking for a hero, Alexandra. Someone to save you. From the pain of your childhood. From the heartache of being without a family. From the devastation of falling in love with the wrong man. She'd tried to give those things up to the Lord and look to heaven for that level of deep healing.

But faith was sometimes a difficult thing. It was hard to trust in the Father's great love, when she'd never known real love before. She clung to her faith with all she had, but some days it was harder. The Lord works in His own time. She would have to be patient, that was all.

When the time was right, she would fall in love. The Lord would lead her to the right man, one who was kind. Whose love was true. Right?

One thing she knew for sure—that man wouldn't be John Corey.

Did she embarrass herself this morning? Maybe. Did he guess that she was interested in him?

Great. How was she going to look him in the eye again?

Refusing to think about
that,
she went back to work.

 

“John, you awake?”

Something knocked into his elbow—his friend's fist. That brought John back to the present. “Yeah, sure. I'm wide-awake.”

“Didn't look like it to me.” Zach Drake had been his friend since kindergarten and winked at him, whispering so he wouldn't distract from the county sheriff giving a talk at the front of the meeting room. “Know what I think? I bet you were daydreaming. You've got a woman on your mind.”

“What I have is indigestion. Ate too much chili over at the diner.”

“Sure. You just keep telling yourself that. Maybe you'll believe it.” Zach didn't take his gaze from the stern-looking man who was now waving a pointer at a chart. “That's a real nice woman you've hired to take care of things at your place. She wouldn't have anything to do with your mood.”

“Of course not.” John lied flat-out.

“Hmm.” As if he knew far too much, being a newlywed himself, Zach winked again.

John's jaw tightened so hard, his teeth clacked together. “How did you know about Alexandra?”

“She went to the coffee shop last night. Word gets around in a small town.”

Great. Just what he needed. Everyone meant well, sure, but before long Zach wouldn't be the only one commenting on how pretty Alexandra was. Or how long he'd been a lonely widower. Not that he cared. Nope, he could take it—well, he thought he could. But if Alexandra was the topic of the local gossip, then it wouldn't be as hard for that Patrick fellow to track her down.

He was concerned about her, is all. It was his duty. He took responsibility seriously.

“Isn't that her?” Zach gestured toward the only window in the room. The one that faced the alley way where an old yellow VW was turning into a potholed parking lot.

That was sure Alexandra's car. John sat up straight, straining to watch as she pulled up in front of a run-down place, where a faded sign from what had to be the fifties proclaimed The Wash Tub.

Sure enough, she climbed out, car keys dangling from one hand as she pushed the seat forward and wrestled two bulging pillowcases from the back. Why didn't he think to offer her the use of his washer and dryer?

Too late now. Every one would notice if he sprinted for the door to catch her. Like Zach, would they all be thinking he was in love with Alexandra? That was no one's business but his own. His con
science bit him good as he watched her saunter up to the double glass doors.

She stopped to redistribute her load. The bags didn't look heavy, just bulky. And it was all he could do not to leap out of his seat and help her. She managed okay, and smiled at a woman exiting the Laundromat with a child on her hip. What a smile. John figured a man could look on that smile for the rest of his life and never tire of it.

And even his guilt wasn't strong enough to chase away the love he felt when she slipped through the doors and out of his sight. Leaving a yearning for the sight of her sweetness and her goodness that did not fade.