Almost Heaven. Jillian Hart

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Almost Heaven - Jillian Hart Mills & Boon Love Inspired

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he’d responded to a 911 call to a house near the railroad tracks in town.

      He’d never forgotten that night. He suspected Kendra hadn’t, either.

      “It’s about time you started dating again.”

      “Hi to you, too, Gramma.” Kendra carefully laid her fragile, newborn niece down in her pretty well-appointed crib. “I’m not dating again.”

      “Then you’re thinking about dating.” Gramma eased to a stop at the railing.

      “Not even thinking about it.”

      “Well, you should be. It’s time, my dear. It’s taken you a long while getting over Jerrod. You really must have loved him.”

      Kendra’s throat ached at the sympathy in her grandmother’s words. At the caring concern that had been there forever, it seemed. Her gramma had always been there to help her whenever she needed it. Except for that one time. That one horrifying time.

      She shivered, forcing the truth away. “Can we please talk about something else?”

      Unfortunately, her gramma refused to back down. I’ve gotten to know him when he comes in for early-morning coffee. He likes three straight shots to start his day.”

      “I’m not interested in the new deputy. Michelle’s exaggerating.” How many times would she have to say that in the next hour?

      “Then it’s as I thought. The sheriff. Cameron Durango is as good as gold, if you ask my opinion. Sad it is, that he’s a widower at his age. Not many know how hard he had it, taking care of his wife when she was ill. Cancer is a hard enemy.”

      “I didn’t know you knew Cameron so well.” Kendra didn’t know that about his wife.

      She hadn’t even known he’d been married. She could hardly keep up with her busy life. But it struck her hard, realizing that he was alone. He’d already lost everything that could matter, and he wasn’t much older than she was.

      “How long ago was that? I would have remembered the funeral.”

      “His wife wasn’t a member of our church.”

      That explained it. No wonder Cameron was looking for new activities to fill his leisure hours. A horse, what an excellent idea. Horses were more than pets, they were amazing, compassionate creatures. Most of her best friends had been horses.

      Maybe Cameron could find the same kind of comfort she’d found.

      “Michelle misunderstood. Cameron is interested in boarding a horse with me. That’s all.”

      “Is he? I’m glad he’s starting to live his life again. It takes time, getting over that kind of grief. I know you’ll be good to him.”

      “As I am to all my clients.” She hoped Gramma would get the hint.

      “I know, dear, but a grandmother has to hope. Cameron would make a fine husband.”

      Kendra rolled her eyes. “You would have said the same about the deputy. Or anyone else, for that matter. You just want me to be married, like a good woman should be.”

      “That’s right. While I believe a woman ought to wait for true love to come along, I know you would be happier with a husband of your own. With babies of your own.”

      Her own baby. Kendra ached in her soul, for that’s how deep the yearning went—and how deep the wound.

      Not that she could let anyone know. Not even Gramma. She swallowed hard, burying her pain. “You’re one to talk. You are a businesswoman. You said buying half of Karen’s business was one of the best things you ever did.”

      “Yes, but I’ve been married. I’ve raised my family. There is a season for everything.” Gramma brushed her hand over baby Anna’s tuft of downy golden hair. “Hello, sweetheart. You are amazing, yes you are.”

      They stood together, side by side, gazing into the crib where the baby blinked up at them, drifting off to sleep.

      “So soft.” Love vibrated in her grandmother’s voice. “There’s nothing like a newborn life.”

      “Nothing so precious,” Kendra agreed.

      “There is one thing as precious. Love between a wife and her husband.”

      “You had to go and ruin the moment, didn’t you?”

      “I’m just getting my shots in while I can, dear. If you are lucky enough that true love finds you, my beautiful granddaughter, I hope you stop working at your business long enough to grab hold of what matters.”

      The wisdom in her grandmother’s words left her shaky. Kendra didn’t doubt the wisdom. True love could exist.

      But to her? Never. It was a fact. “Are we done talking about this now?”

      “I suppose.” Gramma fell silent.

      It was reassuring, watching over little Anna while she slept. She scrunched up her tiny rosebud mouth, looking even more adorable in her relaxed, peaceful slumber.

      Faint noises from downstairs drifted along the hallway, Dad’s low voice and Mom’s gentle alto answering him. The clank of the oven door closing. The clink of silverware as someone was setting the table. The delicious aroma of the casserole Kendra had put in the oven. Mom must have taken it out to cool.

      The sounds of family.

      She did not take lightly this blessing the good Lord had given her. She had a big, loving extended family. She was thankful for them down to the depths of her soul.

      There is one thing as precious. Love between a wife and her husband. Not for me, she told herself. Not ever.

      Her life was enough. It was. She would not let her grandmother’s kindly-meant words hurt.

      “Isn’t little Anna something?” Gramma sighed. “She looks like you did, you know. That little button nose. That round darling face. That’s what your little girl will look like one day.”

      “Don’t, Gramma.” Gasping on pain, Kendra spun away, heading for the door.

      “Honey, are you all right?”

      “Sure.”

      It was only a half fib. She intended to be fine. Tucking away the raw hurt, she kept on going. Gramma needed time alone with her new great-granddaughter, and there was the supper to see to. Kendra was the self-appointed cook for the night, and she wasn’t about to let someone else take over.

      That’s the reason she told herself for hurrying from the room. It wasn’t because of the tears in her eyes. Of the sadness that haunted her through the days and into the nights of her solitary life.

      Her cell buzzed in her back pocket. She wasn’t in the mood for personal calls, but she withdrew the small handset and glanced at the screen. With her business, she was always on call, emergencies happened.

      She saw with relief that it wasn’t

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