A Love Worth Waiting For. Jillian Hart

“Wish me a bucket of luck, girl, cuz I’m fairly certain I’m going to need it. If I need help, I’ll give you a call.”

      “You can count on me, Granddad.”

      “I know I can. You take care, now, you hear?” He climbed into his classic pickup and started the engine. He tipped his hat again as he drove away.

      The church’s side door swung open with a squeak. It was Susan. “Hey, I thought we lost you. We’re some serious hungry women. I don’t think you should keep us waiting.”

      “I’ve got the goods right here.” Julie held the boxes level as she headed for the open door.

      The warmth of the church beckoned her, but the cold kept hold on her. She wished she could do something to take away her grandfather’s troubles.

      She watched the red taillights of his pickup fade from sight. “They don’t make men like Granddad anymore.”

      “Oh, there’s a few good ones around. The tough part is finding them.”

      “Tough? How about impossible? I’ve been trying to find one to call my own, and I’ve given up.”

      “That’s when it happens, you know.” Susan held the door wide. “When you’ve given up all hope and you don’t think you’ll ever find love, love finds you.”

      Not me, Julie wanted to say, but what was the point? Susan had her beliefs, and Julie had hers. Three failed engagements that had taken more of her heart and her confidence each time she gave back the diamond ring.

      She didn’t have a lot of heart and confidence left to risk on another man, another dream, another chance for happily-ever-after.

      She’d make the most of the life God had given her—and that was easy. Look at all the blessings she had—a wonderful grandfather and soon a new grandmother, and lifelong friends she loved like sisters. What a beautiful life she had.

      “We’re starving,” Misty called from inside the hall. “Is that pepperoni I smell?”

      Because anyone holding a pepperoni pizza was popular, Julie hurried into the hall to share the meal with her friends.

      Chapter Two

      “Consider this fair warning.”

      “Warning for what?” Noah bounced in the seat as his sister navigated her minivan along the stretch of dirt that passed for a driveway. “Maybe I should see that this road gets paved.”

      Hope shot him a withering look. “Forget the driveway. It’s been newly graveled. I’m trying to look out for your best interests. Nanna has her agenda.”

      “Believe me, I know. She hits me over the head with it every week when I call her.” Noah squared his shoulders. “Don’t worry, I can handle her. I’m bigger and stronger. I have a will of steel.”

      “Hey, Superman, I give Nanna two minutes before she brings up the subject of marriage.”

      “Marriage is like kryptonite to a man like me.” Noah winked at her. “One and a half minutes, I say. She’s gotten pushy since she’s become engaged. Wants to spread the torture around I guess.”

      “Misery loves company.” Hope winked right back at him. “I can handle Nanna. She’s not going to marry me off.”

      “We’ll see about that.” Hope brought the vehicle to a stop in the gravel driveway, beneath the shelter of a mighty oak. Rain sputtered from the sky, making the wipers skid on the windshield. “Did you want me to pick you up? Or are you taking Nanna to the party?”

      “I have no idea. I’m just along for the ride.” He opened the door. The cool and damp air rushing over him was enough to make him shiver as he stepped onto Montana soil. “Go home to your husband and kids. Thanks for the ride.”

      “Anytime.”

      He grabbed his bags and briefcase. His sister drove away, leaving him standing in the noontime rain.

      The windows of the old white farmhouse glowed like a promise of shelter from the storm. The front door swung wide, casting a generous swatch of light onto the old-fashioned porch. Noah’s chest warmed at the sight of the woman framed in the doorway.

      “There you are.” Nanna opened her arms wide, and he stepped into them. “I should have known my Noah would be here right on time. Oh, it’s good to see my boy.”

      He hadn’t been a boy in over twenty years, but he didn’t correct her. “You’re looking as lovely as ever. I guess being in love agrees with you.”

      “And why shouldn’t it? Love is one of God’s greatest blessings and one day you’re going to discover it for yourself. I’ve been praying, so you’d better watch out, my boy.” She broke away and nudged him into the threshold. “Let me take a good look at you.”

      “I’m fine.”

      “Fine, my foot! Why, James Noah Ashton you look terrible. Simply terrible. What have you been doing to yourself?” Nanna shook her head, her mouth tight with disapproval. “I know what you’ve been up to, lying to me on the phone!”

      “I wasn’t lying—” He was being selective. He didn’t know for sure if anything was wrong.

      “Letting me think you’re better off than you are! I can take one look at you and see that you’ve been working day and night, not getting enough sleep. Not taking care of yourself. Eating restaurant food.”

      “There’s nothing wrong with restaurant food.”

      “Have you looked in a mirror lately? And why aren’t you wearing a coat? Come inside out of this cold.” She grabbed him by the arm and hauled him into her living room. “Now sit down and warm up in front of the fire.”

      She had every right to scold, he figured. And as long as she went on about his lifestyle, she wasn’t bringing up the word marriage. He checked his watch. Two minutes and counting.

      “It breaks my heart to see you alone,” Nanna called from the kitchen, not sounding heartbroken at all. Oh, no, she sounded like a four-star general on the eve of battle. “I had so hoped you would bring along a date. It’s not good for a man to be alone.”

      “I’ve heard that before. Somewhere, I just can’t think where—” He strolled into the kitchen in time to see her wave her hand at him.

      “Oh, you. Don’t blame a poor old woman for wanting to see her only grandson happy.”

      “I am happy.” He kissed her cheek and stole the oven mitt from her. “Move aside and let the master work.”

      “Master? You can’t cook, young man.” She chuckled, her laughter as sweet as a meadowlark’s song.

      “That’s what you think. I bought this video series by some gourmet chef on how to cook. So you see, I can feed myself and I do know how to get stuff from the oven.”

      “Just be careful. The pan is plumb full—”

      “I won’t spill,” he told her gently, because he loved her. Noah lifted the heavy pan from the oven and set her culinary masterpiece on the trivet to cool. The delicious scents of Italian herbs made his mouth water. “Hey, I just thought of something. You could give me the recipe and maybe I can make it when I’m at home.”

      “That I’d pay good money to see.” Nanna squeezed his arm. “The lasagna needs to cool. Come sit down and I’ll get you some of that lemonade you like. And no, I certainly will not give you my recipe. It has been a guarded secret in my family for generations.”

      “Nanna, I am family.”

      “When you have a wife and children of your own, then I’ll give you the recipe. How’s that?” Eyes twinkling, she led him to the round oak table near the windows.

      “Maybe I’ll have to charm the