Heaven Knows. Jillian Hart

      She held the phone tight to her ear, wishing a part of her didn’t long to accept. To spend her days taking care of a nice little girl, baking cookies and playing in the sunshine. She wouldn’t be alone—at least for a little while.

      And that was almost temptation enough.

      “I’m afraid I can’t.” It was hard to say the words. Harder still to think about hanging up the phone. “I appreciate the job offer, really I do, but I don’t think I’m what you’re looking for. Goodbye, John.”

      “Wait! Alexandra—”

      She hung up. It was the right thing to do. For John and Hailey. And for her.

      “If it’s a local call, next time I’ll let you use my phone instead of the pay phone,” the lady in the office offered as Alexandra swept by.

      “Thanks.” She smiled at the woman, who then stepped into the back room where she lived with her husband. The aroma of meat loaf lingered.

      It was suppertime. Everyone in the campground was settling down to eat. She walked past motor homes, where retired couples chatted over their meals, and tents, where families cooked over open fires. Everywhere she looked, people were gathering in pairs and groups.

      One day, that would be her. She was certain of it. Surely the Lord didn’t mean for her to always be alone.

      Chapter Four

      The wonderful thing about camping was that a person never needed an alarm clock. Nature had its own rhythm, one that felt serene and peaceful as Alexandra punched her pillow, nudged awake by the call of birds heralding the coming dawn, and the downshifting of truck traffic on the highway. But Alexandra was content to ignore that as the first rays of the rising sun cut through the nylon tent and into her eyes.

      Good thing she was an early riser. Her nose was cold from the chill in the air, and for one second she snuggled deeper into her toasty-warm sleeping bag. The fabric shivered around her as she turned onto her side. Could she manage a few more minutes of sleep?

      But already her mind was racing ahead. It was Sunday—she wanted to find a church service somewhere nearby, and then hit the road when it was over. Would she head east, toward Miles City and North Dakota? Or south toward Yellowstone? The checker at the grocery store had mentioned the park was opening some of its entrances.

      Maybe she could find an available campsite, since she’d never had the chance to travel before. This was her first time out of Washington State. Wouldn’t it be something to see Old Faithful? Well, she’d simply have to see where the Lord led her on this beautiful spring day.

      Already the sun was boldly chasing away the chill from the air. So why lay around like a lazybones? She crawled out of her sleeping bag, deciding she wanted to hit the showers before they got busy. A quick breakfast, and then she’d find a nearby church. The day already felt full of promise.

      She crawled out of the sleeping bag, already shivering in her favorite pair of sweats. It didn’t take long to grab her bag of showering things and her last clean towel from the stack on the back seat of her car. The campground was quiet this time of morning, except for a few travelers beginning to stir. An older woman, opening her door to the pine-scented air, stepped out of a luxury motor home and offered a pleasant good-morning.

      Alexandra returned it, feeling better for the momentary connection. The skies were clear and a dazzling blue. The air smelled fresh and crisp, and she couldn’t help feeling full of hope. Surely the happy touch of the sun meant good things for the day ahead. It had been one more night that Patrick hadn’t caught up with her.

      She showered quickly, shivering in the cold water. Apparently the water heater wasn’t working terribly well, but she didn’t mind. Cold water was good for the soul, right? She certainly felt invigorated as she toweled dry, pulled on a pair of warm sweats and ran a comb through her hair. Now, to dig out her good clothes from the bottom of the duffel bag, and then she’d go in search of an espresso stand. She was on a budget, but a double hazelnut latte was a once-a-week treat she wasn’t about to miss.

      With her bag slung over her shoulder, she pushed through the doors and stepped out into the new day, where the sun was up, so warm and bright it hurt her eyes to look into it. Surely there was an espresso stand close by, and if she could find a local paper, then she could check the church listings—

      “Alexandra!”

      She froze in the middle of the dirt path. She didn’t know anyone here. For a nanosecond, fear speared through her. Then she realized that it was a child’s voice that had called her name, not a man’s. Not Patrick’s.

      “Hey! Alexandra. Remember me?” A little girl skipped along the low fingers of light slicing through the pine trees lining the gravel driveway.

      Alexandra warmed from head to toe. “Of course I remember you, Hailey. What are you doing here by yourself?”

      “Oh, Daddy and Grammy came, too, but I can run the fastest.”

      John was here? And Bev? What were they doing here? Confused, Alexandra squinted into the long bright rays of the rising sun, but she couldn’t see anything. Another flash of panic sliced through her—was she really that easy to track down?

      Hailey skidded to a stop, her hair tangled and her purple ruffled dress swirling around her knees. Her neon-green sunglasses were perched on her nose and hid her eyes, but her grin was wide and infectious and adorable.

      “How did you find me?” Alexandra tried to keep the panic from her voice. She’d paid cash for one night, and the manager hadn’t asked for more than her car’s license plate number. That didn’t make her easy to track down, right?

      “Grammy hit the dial-back thingy. That’s how we knew where to come get you.” Hailey slipped off her sunglasses. “It’s Sunday and you can’t not go to church. Grammy was real worried ’n stuff, so Daddy said we’d take ya with us. Right, Daddy?”

      “That about sums it up,” answered a deep rumbling voice.

      John. Alexandra felt his presence even before she heard the first pad of his footstep. Even before she caught the faint scent of pine-scented aftershave on the sweet morning breeze. The sun rising in the great sky behind him shot long spears of golden light, casting him in shadow as he strode closer. His broad shoulders were set, his Stetson tipped at an uncompromising angle, his gait slow and steady. Confident.

      He looked like a hero out of a movie, the tall, dark silent warrior too good to be real. He strolled into the shadows, the change of light transforming him from shadow to flesh-and-blood man. He looked different today in his Sunday best, still rock solid and powerful, but remote. For the moment, unreachable.

      Alexandra’s breath caught, and she was very aware of her long hair wet from the shower and tousled by the wind. She’d run a comb through it once. Who knew what she looked like? She was wearing her favorite pair of gray sweats, of course, the old ones that were baggy and had holes in both knees.

      It doesn’t matter, she told herself. It certainly wasn’t as if John Corey was looking at her like a man interested. And shouldn’t she be panicking instead of hoping he did like her?

      Right. Except she knew there was no danger here. John was a widower with Hands Off practically pasted to his forehead.

      “How about it, Alexandra? Seems we owe you for treating us to ice cream, and Coreys always make good on their debts. We can’t let this favor you did us go unpaid, so here we are, asking you to ease my conscience and let us take you to church with us.”

      “It was only ice cream, John. Not a debt to be paid.”

      “That’s a matter of opinion. Come to the service with us. You would make Mom happy. She loves to fuss over everyone. It gets tough on a guy. Think of it this way. You would be doing me a favor.”

      “Oh? A favor now? I thought you said it was a debt!”

      “Semantics.” It was easy