Jillian Hart

Almost Heaven


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bought a mean horse?” Gramma’s disapproval wreathed her soft, lovely face, as she cut thick slices of wheat-nut bread. “Is that safe?”

      “He’s a stallion.”

      “I don’t like the sound of that! Not at all. Boarding and training horses is one thing. But a stallion? How will you handle him? And he’s wild, to boot!”

      “I have a little tiny eensy-beensy bit of experience with horses, remember?” Kendra twisted open the jar of mayo. “I’ve been riding since before I could walk.”

      “I didn’t approve of that, either, the way your father would put you and your sisters on the backs of horses when you were nothing but toddlers!” Gramma’s eyes twinkled, though. “He must be a good-looking horse, if you bought him.”

      “He’s a beauty. Bright chestnut coat. Perfect white socks. A long black mane and tail. And his lines…he’s got some Arabian in him.” Kendra sighed. “Of course, he gives new meaning to the word wild. I’m sure I can tame him, so don’t start worrying. I haven’t been killed by a horse yet.”

      “Heavens, I should hope not! You do have a way with them. I don’t doubt that.” Gramma bit her lip as she layered meat mixture and cheese on a slice of bread. As if she were thinking better of saying anything more.

      Kendra whipped the knife from her grandmother’s hand. “You go sit down. I’ll finish this up and bring you a cup of iced tea to the table. Go. Away with you.”

      “You’re getting just as bossy as me. I like that.” Planting a kiss on Kendra’s cheek, she left the kitchen without further complaint.

      That wasn’t like Gramma at all, but Kendra was too exhausted to dwell on it. She put away the sandwich makings, grabbed two bottles of iced tea from the case, shouldered through the swinging doors and into the silent shop.

      With the wide bank of windows along the end wall, she had a perfect view of Cameron. He was rolling the tire across the street, apparently whistling as he went, looking like a hero in his navy-blue uniform.

      “That Durango boy’s helpin’ you out, I see,” Gramma commented as she tapped keys on her computer. “Funny that you’d let a man do something like that for you.”

      “Don’t go reading something into it that’s not there.”

      “Is something there?”

      How many times had they discussed this? “I’m not going to get married, you know. Ever. So don’t start getting your hopes up. The truth is, I’m so tired I can barely pick up my feet and Cameron offered to help me. He helps with this kind of thing all the time.”

      “Which kind of thing would that be? A tire low on air? Or helping a very pretty eligible woman?” Gramma’s eyes twinkled as if she knew something Kendra didn’t.

      “If you’re going to torture me about this, I’m taking my food and I’m leaving.” Kendra said it lightly, but she meant it.

      The impenetrable titanium walls around her heart were sealed shut. They were going to stay locked tight. “I’m not interested in Cameron.”

      “Then why, sweetie, is he fixing that tire for you?”

      “Because he’s a sheriff and I had a long day in the hot sun and no lunch.”

      She took a big bite of her sandwich to prove it.

      “Fine. All right. I believe you.” She held up her hands helplessly. “You can’t blame a poor grandmother for hoping.”

      “Oh, yes I can!”

      “Only three of my granddaughters are married and have given me perfect grandchildren. There’s no crime in wanting more. Marge’s youngest girl married just last year and had a new baby boy last week. That makes for four grandchildren for her. I’ve got to keep up.”

      Kendra rolled her eyes, her mouth too full to speak. What was the point? As if Gramma listened anyway. She had her definite opinions and nothing short of laser fire was going to change her mind.

      “Cameron is certainly a good man, isn’t he? He’s so nice and courteous. Everyone raves on about what a fine sheriff he’s been.”

      “Yes, I’m sure he’ll be reelected. Now, can we change the subject?”

      “Look how handsome he is in his uniform. I have a weakness for men in uniforms myself. The first time I saw your grandfather in his dress blues…it does make a girl feel safe, doesn’t it?”

      “Stop.” Laughter escaped anyway. How could she be mad at her grandmother who so obviously loved the idea of marriage and happily-ever-afters?

      But it wasn’t for everyone. It even said so in the Bible. God chose different paths for everyone and some women were meant to be married and mothers.

      She wasn’t. It hurt, but there wasn’t anything she could do to change the direction her life had taken.

      It wasn’t as if she were alone.

      Look at the blessings the good Lord had placed in her life. Her grandmother, her parents, her sisters, her friends and her horses. How many people actually got to do what they loved for a living? She’d always wanted her own riding stable, and that’s what she had. She wasn’t going to complain about her life. Not now. Not ever.

      “Oh, where are the books off? This is the most aggravating thing on earth. Who invented bookkeeping, anyway? Whoever he is, he’s a very bad man.” Gramma’s frustration was good-natured as she held up her hand and gave the computer a death-ray glare. “I should just quit, but it’ll keep bothering me if I do.”

      “You’re just tired. Let me take a peek.” Kendra pulled the ledger so it faced her. “It’s probably just a transposition.”

      “You are simply a wonder, my dear. Thank you.”

      As she ate, Kendra squinted at the numbers and tried to make her eyes focus. Minutes ticked by as she studied the long row of numbers and paired them against the deposit slip. It had to be a coincidence that she’d chosen a seat that faced the windows, right? She wouldn’t pick this spot on purpose because she had a perfect view of Cameron Durango kneeling in the hot sun, working alongside Zach, her brother-in-law, who must have come over to help.

      He may be handsome and kind and dependable, sure, but the steel doors around her heart stayed locked.

      “Where are the checks?” Kendra tore her gaze from the window and noticed her grandmother’s eyes were sparkling, as if she’d noticed where Kendra’s gaze kept straying. “Oh, I get it. You think I’m interested in the sheriff.”

      “Oh, no. Of course not.” She was the perfect face of innocent grandmotherly denial. “I was just thinking what a blessing it is that God sends us what we need when we need it most.”

      “And that cryptic comment means…”

      “Oh, nothing about Cameron coming to help you when you needed it, of course. Heavens, no! I was referring to you walking through the door when I was ready to give up in frustration. The checks are here, in the bank bag.”

      Kendra waited while her grandmother slid the small dark bag across the table. Liar. Whether Gramma admitted it or not, she wasn’t fooled one bit.

      Why argue about it? There was no point. Her grandmother would come to understand in time and to accept Kendra’s choices in life.

      Cameron Durango, no matter how striking and protective and capable he looked in his uniform, would never be one of her choices.

      Why did that make her sad? She decided her barricades were weakening, probably because she was still so tired and hungry.

      See? A girl needed to keep up her strength so she wasn’t susceptible to random, pointless emotions. It was pointless to feel sad about what could never be made right.

      She bit into the second half