the Lobby button andpulled out the brochure as the elevator descended, clicking off the floors.
It had been a long, hard road taking care of Deb, not as hard as the road she walked with her illness. It nearly killed him having to say goodbye to her. Faith saw him through that tough time and after. Heâd only been existing, not living. How did a man live with only half of a heart?
Memories tugged him back in time, when he and Deb were newlyweds. Their budget was tight. It had to be. She was finishing up her legal-assistant course at the technical college while he was hoofing it through the academy. Part-time jobs kept them in a small one-bedroom apartment not far from the campus in Bozeman. They had to work to make ends meet, but Deb had made it fun. She was so easy to laugh with. They laughed all the time.
He missed that. He missed the dreams they would talk about over doing the dishes by hand in the cramped kitchen. Deb wanted a sprawling house just out of town, so she could see trees instead of neighbors.
Heâd wanted enough land to graze a horse or two on. Sheâd liked that idea, and wove more dreams of how it would be when times were better, riding their horses in their fields. What a great life they were going to have. Together.
Grief weighed down his soul.
The elevator inched to a halt and the doors whispered open. The outside world beyond the long wallof lobby windows was dark, and he hated the thought of going out in it.
Sheâd been gone four years, and the pain of heading home to an empty house still ate at him.
Is that going to change anytime soon, Lord?
Then he saw Kendra through a glass partition in the far wall. The overhead light haloed her golden hair and caressed her creamy complexion. She wore a simple T-shirt and her denim shorts, nothing pretty or fancy or extraordinary, and she looked so lovely.
He supposed it was loneliness that made him look. He missed a womanâs presence in his life. The softness and gentleness, the little bottles all over the bathroom counter⦠He missed all of it.
It was a puzzle, because heâd seen plenty of women over the years. Not one of them made him feel as if the world had simply melted away until there was only her.
She didnât know he was watching as she leaned against the counter, turning to talk to her sister. She sparkled, laughing, tilting back her head to study the array of cheerful balloons floating just out of reach.
He couldnât say why that was, but as he strolled through the automatic doors and out into the parking lot, the night didnât seem as bleak or as lonely as it had been before.
Chapter Three
S quinting against the bold afternoon sun blinding her through the windshield, Kendra set the emergency brake. Okay, how was she going to do this? The cookies were in the back seat, all ready to go, but her sister was in the passenger seat beside her. Michelle was bound to notice what was going on.
If only sheâd had more time! The day following Annaâs birth had been jam-packed with errands and work and visits to the hospital. Mom and baby were coming home this evening, and there was a lot of work still to be done.
Sheâd been lucky to get the cookies baked. By the time she might get the chance to deliver them again all by herself, they would be beyond stale and as hard as bricks.
Please donât make a big deal over this, she silently begged Michelle, who was rummaging through herpurse looking for her lipstick. Good, she was distracted. âYou wait right here where itâs cool. Donât move a muscle. Iâll be just a second.â
âWait! Where are you going? I thought those cookies were for us.â Michelleâs hand, holding the found lipstick, rested on the small round bowl of her pregnant belly. âTheyâre not for us?â
âNope.â
âI need cookies.â
âDonât worry. I saved a small plate for you.â
âButââ
Oh, no,
It had been a long, hard road taking care of Deb, not as hard as the road she walked with her illness. It nearly killed him having to say goodbye to her. Faith saw him through that tough time and after. Heâd only been existing, not living. How did a man live with only half of a heart?
Memories tugged him back in time, when he and Deb were newlyweds. Their budget was tight. It had to be. She was finishing up her legal-assistant course at the technical college while he was hoofing it through the academy. Part-time jobs kept them in a small one-bedroom apartment not far from the campus in Bozeman. They had to work to make ends meet, but Deb had made it fun. She was so easy to laugh with. They laughed all the time.
He missed that. He missed the dreams they would talk about over doing the dishes by hand in the cramped kitchen. Deb wanted a sprawling house just out of town, so she could see trees instead of neighbors.
Heâd wanted enough land to graze a horse or two on. Sheâd liked that idea, and wove more dreams of how it would be when times were better, riding their horses in their fields. What a great life they were going to have. Together.
Grief weighed down his soul.
The elevator inched to a halt and the doors whispered open. The outside world beyond the long wallof lobby windows was dark, and he hated the thought of going out in it.
Sheâd been gone four years, and the pain of heading home to an empty house still ate at him.
Is that going to change anytime soon, Lord?
Then he saw Kendra through a glass partition in the far wall. The overhead light haloed her golden hair and caressed her creamy complexion. She wore a simple T-shirt and her denim shorts, nothing pretty or fancy or extraordinary, and she looked so lovely.
He supposed it was loneliness that made him look. He missed a womanâs presence in his life. The softness and gentleness, the little bottles all over the bathroom counter⦠He missed all of it.
It was a puzzle, because heâd seen plenty of women over the years. Not one of them made him feel as if the world had simply melted away until there was only her.
She didnât know he was watching as she leaned against the counter, turning to talk to her sister. She sparkled, laughing, tilting back her head to study the array of cheerful balloons floating just out of reach.
He couldnât say why that was, but as he strolled through the automatic doors and out into the parking lot, the night didnât seem as bleak or as lonely as it had been before.
Chapter Three
S quinting against the bold afternoon sun blinding her through the windshield, Kendra set the emergency brake. Okay, how was she going to do this? The cookies were in the back seat, all ready to go, but her sister was in the passenger seat beside her. Michelle was bound to notice what was going on.
If only sheâd had more time! The day following Annaâs birth had been jam-packed with errands and work and visits to the hospital. Mom and baby were coming home this evening, and there was a lot of work still to be done.
Sheâd been lucky to get the cookies baked. By the time she might get the chance to deliver them again all by herself, they would be beyond stale and as hard as bricks.
Please donât make a big deal over this, she silently begged Michelle, who was rummaging through herpurse looking for her lipstick. Good, she was distracted. âYou wait right here where itâs cool. Donât move a muscle. Iâll be just a second.â
âWait! Where are you going? I thought those cookies were for us.â Michelleâs hand, holding the found lipstick, rested on the small round bowl of her pregnant belly. âTheyâre not for us?â
âNope.â
âI need cookies.â
âDonât worry. I saved a small plate for you.â
âButââ
Oh, no,