A Handful of Heaven. Jillian Hart

was working her way around the corner and didn’t seem to notice him looking.

      He took one shaky step into the dining area and along the empty aisles. Only one other couple remained in the diner, finishing up their steak dinners. He fumbled onto the stool and leaned his elbows heavily on the counter. The impact of her smile remained, and his heart pounded crazily in his chest as if he needed a defibrillator.

      Never had he reacted to a woman like that. Not even to Liz when he’d first fallen in love with her. What was happening? He didn’t know. But as he took his seat and grabbed the last of his fries, his taste buds paled. Everything seemed suddenly dim and distant. It was a strange reaction. Maybe he’d hit his head harder than he’d thought.

      His pastor, his friends, his sons and even his brother-in-law, whom he’d kept in contact with after the divorce, all told him he ought to start dating again. That he should find some nice woman to share his golden years with.

      I don’t want to admit to being anywhere close to having golden years.

      “Evan?

      The fork clamored to the plate. His fingers had somehow slipped. When he managed to meet Paige’s gaze, he made sure he didn’t notice that she was a beautiful, graceful woman with a tender heart. He forced himself to see the efficient businesswoman, who had taken his orders, served his meals and counted back his change over the years. That was the only Paige McKaslin he could allow himself to see.

      “Department of Health rules. I can’t be open for business unless I have working restrooms.” She set a big paper bag on the counter between them and a take-out cup, capped, next to it. “Your extra order of fries, a slice of banana cream pie, I know how you like it, and a hot cup of that gourmet decaf you sometimes order.”

      “Uh…thanks.” What he needed was to head straight home, empty house or not, and put some distance between his stirred-up emotions and Paige McKaslin. What he needed to do was to sit in the quiet of his home, the same house where his wife had cheated on him and finally left, and then he’d remember why being alone was the right choice.

      “Here.” She reached beneath the counter and began dropping packets into the bag. “Let me make sure you’ve got napkins and a few things. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

      “The pie would be fine. How much do I owe you?”

      “Nothing, goodness. After your help tonight, this is on me. Please, you didn’t even get to finish eating.”

      “No, forget it. I pay my way.” He pulled out his wallet and she held up her hand.

      Men. Paige appreciated Evan’s pride and his ethics, but she had some of her own. “If you insist on paying for this meal, then I’m only going to give you the next one free. In fact, maybe I’ll do that anyway.” She turned toward the mature couple ambling down the aisle. “You, too, Mr. and Mrs. Redmond. I see that twenty you left on the table.”

      “Well, dear, we’re not freeloaders, and we were nearly done anyhow,” Mr. Redmond kindly answered as he took a toothpick from the holder near the register. “You have a good night now. You still make the best steak in the state.”

      “My mother’s secret spices.” Paige made a mental note to give the Redmonds their next meal free. She had the best customers anyone could wish for—they were so understanding! She grabbed the small white sack containing the baker’s box she’d filled in the kitchen and intercepted them at the front. “A little something for later.”

      Mr. Redmond was not opposed to the gift of dessert and held the door carefully for his beloved wife. They disappeared together into the storm.

      Sweet. What must it be like to have a bond like that? Paige couldn’t help the pang of regret or the pull of longing in her heart. She was thirty-eight years old, too old to believe in fairy tales, so why was she still wishing for one? The long painful years after her husband’s departure and the following divorce had taken their toll, as had the years of shouldering responsibilities for her family. Working sixteen-hour days seven days a week had worn her to the bone.

      What she needed was a vacation.

      No, what she needed, she corrected herself, as she waded to the hall closet, was a time machine so she could go back twenty years, grab that naive eighteen-year-old she’d been by the shoulders, and make that foolish, stars-in-her-eyes girl see the truth about life. A truth that the grown woman in her had come to accept as a cold, hard fact.

      There was no such thing as true love and no real knights in shining armor. Anything that looked like a fairy tale was either an illusion or simply wishful thinking.

      Okay, that sounded bitter, but it really wasn’t, she thought as she hauled out the mop. She sounded cold, but her heart wasn’t that, either. If anything, Paige felt foolish. Think of all the time and heartache she could have saved herself had she understood that truth earlier in her life. Her road would have been so much smoother had she seen the world—and the man she’d married—for what was real instead of what she’d wished them both to be.

      If she had, she could have focused on what truly mattered—and only on that. She could have avoided wasting energy on dreams that only faded, on hopes that true love would walk into her life one day.

      The hope that she’d find a good man to love had faded over time, bit by bit, shade by shade until it was nothing at all.

      That was how she’d been living for a long, long time. She swiped the mop through the water, thinking that she’d been happier this way. Alone was good. She was strong, capable and independent. She was also safe from all the harm a man could bring to a woman. Sad, trying not to remember the long-ago love she’d been unable to save, she wrung the mop, listening to the water tap into the plastic bucket like rain.

      As she worked, she listened to the sounds of Evan gathering up the bag and ambling down the aisle. His steps were deliberate and slow, as if he were in no hurry to leave. He drew to a stop in the breezeway between the eating area and the front counter. “Do you want me to hang around until Phil gets here?”

      “That’s nice of you, but I’m used to being alone here after dark.” She swiped the mop through the cold water and wrung the sponge head well. “I do appreciate your help tonight. Not everyone would have gotten up to help me.”

      “Glad I could make a difference. With my boys gone, I don’t get to do that much anymore.” He cleared his throat as if he had more to say, and could not.

      What would it be like to come home to an empty house, she wondered? To open the door and know that her son would not be in his bedroom downstairs with his dog, listening to music or munching on potato chips or sacked-out fast asleep?

      It had to be a long stretch of lonely, she thought as she went back to mopping. She didn’t know what to say as Evan walked past to snag his jacket from the coat tree, she couldn’t help noticing that he’d gotten pretty dirty crawling around under the diner. Dust streaked his slacks.

      She bent to squeeze water from the mop head. “Uh, are those dry clean only?”

      “No way. Don’t even worry about it.” He didn’t look at her as he slid into his black jacket, pulled a baseball cap over his head and leaned against the door.

      “Drive safe out there, Evan. The roads have to be a mess.”

      “You be safe, too.” He cleared his throat, slid a ten and a five on the counter and took the sack. There was a challenging glint in his dark eyes as he ambled past, as if he were daring her to give the money back.

      The bell overhead jangled as he strode into the night. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

      “Uh, yeah, that would be great. I’ll be waitressing.”

      “Then I’ll be ordering.”

      He stared at her for a beat, as the night began to engulf him. In the moment before the shadows claimed him completely, she saw the essence of him, not the physical, not the expected, but the steady strength of a good man.

      The