A Handful of Heaven. Jillian Hart

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A Handful of Heaven - Jillian Hart

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wasn’t going to be an easy one. She still had to remove the snow coating her SUV and chip away at the ice frozen solid to the windows before she could even think about trying to drive. And once she was on her way, the roads would be more than a challenge.

      Twenty minutes later, falling snow pelted her trusty Jeep with big wet flakes, and it was impossible to see more than a few inches in front of her. The accumulation on the road was sloppy and tricky to drive in. It caught at the wheels and tossed the vehicle every which way, so she slowed to a crawl to navigate through the town streets and along the county road where other vehicles’ tires had mashed the mire down into an icy compact crust.

      When she turned off onto the private road, she relaxed a bit. Almost home. The evergreens and cottonwoods lining the lane were bent low from the heavy snow and scraped at the top of her Jeep; that’s when it got tough going. She fought the wheel to stay on the narrow road.

      Only two other sets of tire tracks marked the way in the otherwise absolute darkness. One set, which was almost snow filled, veered off down a long, tree-lined drive. Evan Thornton’s place. The remaining tracks had to be her son’s and led her a few more miles into the hills, up her driveway and into the shelter of her garage.

      Thank heaven. She was home and in one piece, and not that much worse for wear. Lights flicked on and there was Alex, holding open the inside door, already in a flannel T-shirt and pants she’d gotten him for Christmas. His blond hair was rumpled and in serious need of a cut. His dog panted at his side. “Hey, Mom. I was just nuking some cocoa. Want some?”

      “Are you kidding? I’d love a cup.”

      “Cool.” He flashed her a quick grin and disappeared behind the door, the dog, Max, loping along after him.

      As she gave the door a shove, her back popped. Great. That was going to be the next disaster. Her back was going to go out. Every joint she owned creaked. Wasn’t life eventually supposed to be easier, Lord? Or are You trying to tell me something?

      She rescued her purse from the floor, along with the small paper sack with the last two cinnamon rolls. She had to wonder, as she elbowed through the door and into the laundry room, whether God was sending her a sign.

      Every time she tried to get ready to sell the diner for good something happened to hold her firmly here. In the last six months, her sister Rachel had married and moved away, the roof had needed to be replaced and now the plumbing. Those repairs would erode a big chunk of the savings she’d been squirreling away. Not good.

      Then again, it was never a true disaster, either. The Lord might be trying to tell her something, but He always made sure she had help, too. The image of Evan Thornton flashed into her mind. Tall, broad-shouldered, he had the kind of quiet strength that made a woman sigh and wish—even a woman like her who did not place any faith in the non-constant nature of men.

      Sure, some men were constant, but it was a rare thing. The trouble was, it would be easy to start believing Evan was one of those kind of men. He’d helped out tonight without expecting more than a thank-you. And what was it he’d said? Glad I could make a difference. He had his heart in the right place. Why had it seemed that he was so sad? Not depressed-sad, just…lonely-sad. He hadn’t wanted to go home to an empty house.

      It hit her the moment she saw her strapping son at the microwave, punching the buttons. Hadn’t Evan’s youngest boy, who was a year older than Alex, gone to college this year? Maybe that’s why he seemed so lonely.

      Alex’s crooked grin lit up his face. “Excellent, Mom. Sit down, take a load off. Want me to get that for you?”

      He could have been a young, hip butler for the attention he was giving her. And while it was nice, she had to wonder what was behind his very sweet behavior. She let him take her purse, the dinner sack and her keys and then watched in amazement while he set them on the counter. He couldn’t resist peeking into the sack.

      “Sweet. Good call. I could use a cinnamon roll. I’m a growing boy, you know.”

      “I’ve noticed.”

      “Here, sit down.” His hand on her elbow guided her to one of the chairs at the breakfast bar.

      “Okay, what’s up?” What trouble are you in now? She bit her tongue before she said it. “This is bringing to mind the time you drove into the school bus in the school parking lot and backed up traffic for thirty minutes.”

      “My dearest mother, now why would I be up to anything? I’m a good kid.”

      “Good is a relative term.” He was a good boy; her heart swelled up with endless love for him, but he was a teenage boy, no matter how great a kid he was, and he needed constant vigilant guidance. Even if she was proud of the fine man he was growing up to be.

      As he fetched the full steaming mug he’d obviously fixed before she’d stepped through the door, she watched him like a hawk, trying to ferret out a clue to the truth. But nothing. No hint.

      She kept staring at him, but he wasn’t going to crack. She took the mug he slid across the counter to her. “Okay, spill it. I want the truth.”

      All innocence, he opened the microwave door. “There’s no truth. I just thought I’d be nice to my mom.”

      “I like it. I just need to know why.”

      “Well, let me think. I did rob a bank tonight, and I stopped by a convenience store and robbed that, too.” He laughed at his own joke. “Am I funny or what?”

      “Hilarious.” Paige took a sip of chocolate. That hit the spot. She eyed her son over the rim of the cup. This was a teenaged boy, home from his date with a girl she didn’t approve of, and home early, despite the weather, come to think of it.

      A sudden panic began to lick through her soul. He hadn’t gotten into some serious trouble with his girlfriend, had he? She’d been sure to talk to him about his responsibilities toward Beth, to respect her, but—No, she couldn’t begin to think about that!

      Alex hopped onto the stool beside her. “Yo, don’t have a heart attack or nothin’. You don’t think I really robbed some place? I was just yanking your chain. It’s my job to torment my mom.” He grinned, knowing he was perfectly adorable.

      “Just like it’s my job to worry and make sure you grow up right.”

      “I’m growing up right.” He rolled his eyes. “All I did was take Beth home after the movie. That’s it.”

      Oh, maybe they broke up. Maybe that’s what this was about. He was home early, making hot chocolate and sitting next to her. Maybe he wanted to talk. Relief rushed through her. “How is Beth?”

      “Okay. I met her mom.” He shrugged, leaving her to wait while he rammed a cinnamon roll into his mouth, bit off a huge chunk and chewed.

      Beth’s mom? That wasn’t what Paige expected him to say. Had the woman said something to upset him? She took a sip of the steaming cocoa and licked the marshmallow froth off her lip, waiting for the rest of the tale.

      Finally, after a long beat of silence, Alex confessed. “I took Beth up to the door, and her mom was waiting. She was drunk, I think. And she started chewing out Beth, and I just…” He swallowed hard. “Felt so bad for her.”

      “Me, too.” Paige knew Beth’s mom worked at the local motel as

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