Jillian Hart - Heaven Knows

“So you’ve come to interview for a job?” Bev lit up. “Why, that’s wonderful. So many of our young people are moving away to the bigger cities. Are you interviewing right here in our town?”

“I don’t have an interview, not yet,” she corrected, wiping her hands on the edge of a rag. “I’m looking and hoping the right job comes along.”

“Trust in the Lord to see to it, dear. What kind of work do you do?”

“I clean houses.”

“Honest work. And hard work.”

Alexandra pulled her key from her pocket. “Thanks again for the ride. I’m glad I got to know you.”

“Don’t say your goodbyes yet. We’ll wait and see if that car of yours starts.” Bev looked doubtful as she eyed the rusty Volkswagen.

Alexandra unlocked the door, settled behind the wheel and turned the ignition. The engine didn’t roll over, so she pumped the gas—but not too much so she wouldn’t flood the carburetor.

She got out and once again moved to check the engine.

“Just as I thought.” Bev planted both hands on her hips, leaving her fine leather purse to dangle at her side. “That car isn’t drivable. Do you realize what a godsend it was that John gave me a call?”

“John called you? But I thought you were on your way to town—”

“And so I was. But John asked me to keep an eye out for you on my way in and give you a ride back to your car. He’s my oldest son. Always with a hand out to help, that’s our John. Land sakes, what are you doing now?”

“Cleaning off the battery terminals.” Alexandra bent over the engine compartment. “That’s probably why my car isn’t starting.”

It took only a few seconds to wipe the terminals down and tighten the connectors.

“Something tells me you’ve been on your own a long time.” Bev eased closer. “No boyfriend? No husband?”

“No husband. Yet.” But there had been a man who’d proposed to her after three years of dating. A man she’d been ready to marry.

Panic clawed in her chest and she said nothing more about Patrick. She wanted to forget him, to forget she’d ever known him. She slammed the hood and took a deep breath. “This should do it.”

“If it doesn’t start,” Bev warned, apparently expecting the worst, “then you’d best come with me and no arguments. I can’t in good conscience leave you here.”

“She’ll start.” Alexandra gave her car a pat on the dash and turned the ignition. The engine rolled over, coughing and sputtering, but that was normal. “See? I know she doesn’t look like much, but she really is a reliable car.”

“I don’t know about that!” Bev didn’t look convinced. “It’s Saturday afternoon, and it’s sure to be dark soon. What if this car of yours breaks down again?”

“Then I’ll fix it. The great part about having a car this old and uncomplicated is that I can fix nearly everything that can go wrong with it.” She liked Bev, and wished her own mother could have been more like the woman standing before her now. “I’ll be fine, so don’t worry. You’ve helped me more than you know.”

“I feel as if I haven’t done a thing. Maybe you should come home with me tonight. I’ve got a little rental cottage out behind the garage. It’s as tidy as could be.”

Alexandra bit her lip, not at all sure what to think. She’d been too long living in a city and had forgotten what it was like to live in a small town. Forgotten that in small towns, the world seemed kinder. It was hard to trust in that kindness—in the belief of that kindness.

Her chest ached, as if a part of the defensive wall around her heart crumbled a little. She’d learned long ago that kindness hurt, too, because sometimes it hid pity. “Thanks for the offer, but I want to reach Bozeman by nightfall. Once I’m there, I’ll see where my path takes me.”

“But you’re alone. How old can you be? Twenty?”

“I’m twenty-four.”

“Why, my youngest daughter is that age. I’d hate to think of her alone, driving across country in an unreliable car.” Bev opened her leather purse, which exactly matched her shoes. “Let me see…where is it? Here, my husband’s business card. You promise to give me a call tonight, when you get settled.”

“Sure.” Alexandra took the card and ran her thumb across the embossed letters.

Gerald Corey, Potatoes And Soybeans, it said, and listed an address and phone number. There were different logos, probably farmer organizations she didn’t know anything about, but she did know one thing. Bev was genuine in her caring.

It had been a long time since someone had truly cared about her. A long, lonely time.

Bev was a stranger, and she probably treated everyone she met this way. With warmth and concern. As if they were family.

“I’ll call when I’m settled,” Alexandra promised, tucking the business card into her back pocket.

As she settled behind the wheel, she couldn’t help feeling hopeful. That this short stop in this little town was a sign of things to come. Good things the Lord had in store for her.

It was hard to say goodbye, but she managed it. Harder still to put the little car in gear and ease onto the road. Waving, she shifted into Second, watching Bev grow smaller in the rearview mirror.

Alexandra felt as if she were leaving something of great value behind, and she didn’t know why. Bev Corey climbed into her luxury sedan, and then the road turned, taking Alexandra around a new corner and down a new path.

It made no sense, but the feeling remained.

“Here’s Grammy,” Hailey announced from the front of the store. “See ya later, Dad!”

“Don’t forget your bag.” John watched to make sure she grabbed the pink backpack from the counter, damp from the towel and swimsuit inside from her stay at Stephanie’s. “And wait up. I’ve got something for your grandmother.”

The bell above the door jangled and the screen door slammed. Hailey hadn’t heard him. Through the front-window display, he could plainly see his mom circling around the front of her car, dressed perfectly as always, and greeting Hailey with a big hug.

His pulse skipped a beat—then he noticed the passenger seat was empty. Mom hadn’t brought Alexandra back with her. Disappointment washed through him like a cold ocean wave, leaving him troubled.

Had he been looking forward that much to seeing Alexandra again?

Then maybe it was for the best that she wasn’t here. He had no right to feel any caring—however remote—for any woman. Not after how he’d failed.

Through the screen door, he heard his mother talking, and his daughter answering. He could hear a hay truck downshift as it eased through town. It all sounded far away at the memory of his failure long ago now, but yet, in an instant, it seemed like only moments ago. When his world had changed. And a pretty young woman had lost her life.

The container felt heavy in his hand. Praying for the memories to leave him, he pushed blindly through the door, stumbling and dazed. He’d do anything to have the chance to go back and change the past. Anything.

Mom’s merry voice brought warmth to the afternoon suddenly turned cold. “Hailey, that bag of yours is as wet as your swimsuit. We’d better put it in my trunk because I just cleaned my car. Is that everything?”

“Yep.” Hailey took tight hold of Bev’s hand, as she always did, and climbed into the back seat.

A typical Saturday afternoon, like a dozen others so far this spring. Mom’s cheer, Hailey’s charm and his life in this small town—the same as ever. The weight of his guilt made his step heavy and slow.

“John, are you all right? You’re as quiet as could be, and that’s not like you.” Mom peered at him carefully. “You don’t seem flushed.”