Heaven Sent and His Hometown Girl: Heaven Sent / His Hometown Girl. Jillian Hart

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СКАЧАТЬ she kissed her grandmother’s cheek and headed for the buffet table to fill a plate for herself. Her stomach burned and even if she wasn’t hungry, she had to eat.

      It wouldn’t be easy, sitting next to Matthew’s son and feeling Matthew’s solid presence all through the meal…and maybe feeling his dislike of her.

      

      There was no way he would ever make Mom understand. Matthew fought frustration as he opened the refrigerator and hauled out a yellow pitcher. He slammed the door and rummaged in the cupboard for a plastic glass.

      Sure, Mom was sorry but she didn’t understand. She thought he was lonely and that he was holding onto Kathy’s memory so that he could keep his heart safe from the risk of loving again. Well, she couldn’t be more wrong.

      After pouring, he left the pitcher on the counter, snatched the glass and headed through the house. His footsteps echoed in the too-quiet rooms, and the dark shadows made him all too aware that he was alone. A wife would have turned on the lamps and maybe put on some soothing music. That’s what Kathy always did. His heart warmed, remembering.

      He switched on the lamps and shuffled through the CDs, but couldn’t find anything that felt right. Silence was okay; he didn’t need to cover up the sound of the empty hours between the triplets’ bedtime and his own.

      Matthew sat down in the recliner, put his feet up, drank some juice and grabbed the paperback book lying facedown on the end table. But when he flipped to where he’d left off reading last, the printed words stared back at him and he couldn’t concentrate.

      He kept seeing Hope storming away from him in the café, hiding her hurt feelings behind cool anger, and he slammed the book shut. Frustration and conscience tugged at him. He wanted to head outside and keep going until the darkness and the cool night air breezed away this horrible knot of emotion and confusion tightening around his heart.

      As he launched out of the chair, his feet hit the ground with a thud and he flew across the room. The silence felt thunderous and the emptiness inside felt as endless as the night. The doorknob was in his hand and the next thing he knew he was pounding down the front steps and into the cool darkness.

      The crisp winds lashed across him, tangling his hair and driving through his shirt and jeans. He shivered, but at least he was feeling something besides heartache. Besides loneliness.

      The wind rustled through the maple leaves near the house, and the rattling whisper of the aspens along the property line chased away the silence still ringing in his ears. He breathed in the scents of night earth, grass and ripening alfalfa from the nearby fields at the edge of town as a distant coyote called out and was answered. An owl swooped close on broad, silent wings and cut across the path of light spilling through the open door. He missed Kathy so much.

      Father, help me to put an end to this.

      There was no answer from the night, no sense of calm, no solution whispering on the wind.

      “Daddy?”

      Matthew heard a sniff and spun around. Josh huddled on the doorstep, rubbing at his eyes with both fists, his spaceship printed pajamas trembling around his small form. “What are you doing out of bed, hotshot?”

      “I’m thirsty.”

      “Then come have some water with me.” Matthew scooped his youngest son into his arms and held him close. He headed back into the house, shut the door with his foot and carried Josh into the kitchen.

      The boy didn’t want to let go, so Matthew balanced him on one hip while he searched for a second glass and found a clean one in the top rack of the dishwasher. He filled the glass while Josh clung to him.

      The small boy was too sleepy to talk. He drank, smacked his lips and closed his eyes. Matthew’s heart tightened with love for his child. For Kathy’s child.

      With Josh’s head bobbing against Matthew’s shoulder, he carried his son down the hall to the dark bedroom where a Pooh Bear night-light cast a faint glow across the two other boys sound asleep in their beds, teddy bears clutched in small hands.

      “Sweet dreams,” Matthew whispered as he laid Josh down on the spaceship sheets and covered him with the matching comforter.

      Josh murmured, reaching out. Matthew spotted the bear lying forgotten against the wall and pressed it against his son’s chest. The boy yawned, eyes closed, and sleep claimed him. He didn’t stir when Matthew kissed his brow.

      Kathy would have loved this, tucking in the boys, basking in the peace and quiet. She would have treasured the sense of rightness, of a day well spent and the blessing of three healthy sons asleep in their beds. With every beat of his heart, he missed her.

      She was no more than a blurred face in his mind, the distant memory of a kind voice, and maybe that’s what troubled him most of all. The real reason he was on edge with his mother and had hurt Hope’s feelings. Because his beloved Kathy was fading from his memory, a little bit at a time, leaving a void in his heart. He could no longer recall the exact tone of her voice or the exact shade of her blond hair. And her smile, her touch, her presence…

      She’d been the love of his life, and she was fading away from him slowly, piece by piece, memory by memory.

      Clenching his fists, Matthew stood, crossed the room and pulled the door closed behind him. The empty feeling of the house seemed to vibrate around him, and he knew what he had to do. He’d behaved badly today, and it tugged at his conscience like a fifty-pound weight.

      After looking up the number in the white pages, Matthew punched the lighted buttons on the pad, glowing a faint yellow, and glanced at the kitchen clock. Not ten yet. Maybe she’d still be awake.

      “Hello?” Hope’s voice answered after the second ring, gentle as an evening breeze.

      “It’s Matthew. You have every right to hang up on me, but I wanted to talk with you. I need to apologize.”

      “It isn’t important.” A reserve crept into her words, now that she knew he was the caller.

      “What could be more important than your feelings?” He waited while the seconds ticked by.

      “Fine, apology accepted.”

      “Wait, give me a chance to actually apologize. And there’s something I wanted to talk about with you—”

      “Good night, Matthew.” There was a click and the line went dead.

      It was worse than he’d thought. Hope was truly angry with him. You sure handled that just fine. Did he call her back and tell her what Harold had told him today?

      The static on the line seemed to answer him, and he dropped the receiver into the cradle. The night, the shadows and the loneliness remained, and now he could add being a horse’s rear to the list.

      Troubled, he paced through the house, locking the doors, checking the windows, turning out the lights, feeling empty inside. A verse came to him, quiet as the night. So if you are suffering according to God’s will, keep on doing what is right, and trust yourself to the God who made you, for He will never fail you.

      The frustration and pain raging inside him eased, and he no longer felt alone in the dark night. Father, I’m struggling. СКАЧАТЬ