Hometown Hearts. Jillian Hart
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“Dad! We’re waiting,” Jenny called out the window. “It’s getting hot sitting here.”
“Yeah, Dad,” Julianna chimed in. “Aunt Cady said we were going on a horse ride. She promised they wouldn’t leave without us. It’s gonna be a real trail ride!”
The green pickup passed in the oncoming lane with a toot of the horn and a wave of one slender hand. He couldn’t move or respond as he watched Cheyenne’s truck go by, engine rumbling, equipment in the bed rattling, the trailer hitch glinting as it caught on a ray of sun.
He was in shadow. Life had become incredibly serious and the wounds from living had cut deep. He felt darker as Cheyenne’s pickup pulled into the lane ahead of him and rolled farther away. Over the past few years, he’d been consumed with the demands of running a household, raising his kids and meeting the challenges of his career. He hadn’t stopped to think about the man he had become.
He didn’t like who he was turning out to be. He’d lost hope, he’d lost touch with his soul, he’d forgotten what living was for.
Sunshine tumbled merrily across brilliant green pastures dotted with daisies. The cows across the road chorused a string of pleading moos in one last-ditch effort for attention. Life was big and his spirit had become so small. He wasn’t quite sure when that had happened.
How did I get off track, Lord?
Sorry for it, he folded his six-foot-plus frame behind the wheel, closed the door and followed the ribbon of winding country road, fearing the answers he would get to that question.
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