Almost Heaven

“Stop.” Laughter escaped anyway. How could she be mad at her grandmother who so obviously loved the idea of marriage and happily-ever-afters?

But it wasn’t for everyone. It even said so in the Bible. God chose different paths for everyone and some women were meant to be married and mothers.

She wasn’t. It hurt, but there wasn’t anything she could do to change the direction her life had taken.

It wasn’t as if she were alone.

Look at the blessings the good Lord had placed in her life. Her grandmother, her parents, her sisters, her friends and her horses. How many people actually got to do what they loved for a living? She’d always wanted her own riding stable, and that’s what she had. She wasn’t going to complain about her life. Not now. Not ever.

“Oh, where are the books off? This is the most aggravating thing on earth. Who invented bookkeeping, anyway? Whoever he is, he’s a very bad man.” Gramma’s frustration was good-natured as she held up her hand and gave the computer a death-ray glare. “I should just quit, but it’ll keep bothering me if I do.”

“You’re just tired. Let me take a peek.” Kendra pulled the ledger so it faced her. “It’s probably just a transposition.”

“You are simply a wonder, my dear. Thank you.”

As she ate, Kendra squinted at the numbers and tried to make her eyes focus. Minutes ticked by as she studied the long row of numbers and paired them against the deposit slip. It had to be a coincidence that she’d chosen a seat that faced the windows, right? She wouldn’t pick this spot on purpose because she had a perfect view of Cameron Durango kneeling in the hot sun, working alongside Zach, her brother-in-law, who must have come over to help.

He may be handsome and kind and dependable, sure, but the steel doors around her heart stayed locked.

“Where are the checks?” Kendra tore her gaze from the window and noticed her grandmother’s eyes were sparkling, as if she’d noticed where Kendra’s gaze kept straying. “Oh, I get it. You think I’m interested in the sheriff.”

“Oh, no. Of course not.” She was the perfect face of innocent grandmotherly denial. “I was just thinking what a blessing it is that God sends us what we need when we need it most.”

“And that cryptic comment means…”

“Oh, nothing about Cameron coming to help you when you needed it, of course. Heavens, no! I was referring to you walking through the door when I was ready to give up in frustration. The checks are here, in the bank bag.”

Kendra waited while her grandmother slid the small dark bag across the table. Liar. Whether Gramma admitted it or not, she wasn’t fooled one bit.

Why argue about it? There was no point. Her grandmother would come to understand in time and to accept Kendra’s choices in life.

Cameron Durango, no matter how striking and protective and capable he looked in his uniform, would never be one of her choices.

Why did that make her sad? She decided her barricades were weakening, probably because she was still so tired and hungry.

See? A girl needed to keep up her strength so she wasn’t susceptible to random, pointless emotions. It was pointless to feel sad about what could never be made right.

She bit into the second half of her sandwich and went to work comparing the thick pile of checks against the deposit slip.

Chapter Two

“Here’s your problem, Gramma. It’s right here. You’ve transposed a check amount on the deposit slip.” Kendra grabbed the nearby pen and made the corrections. “There. That should do it.”

“Wonderful! My dear, what would I have done without you?”

“You’d have found it without my help. I—”

The bell above the door jingled.

Cameron. She didn’t need to turn around to know it was him. She felt his presence as surely as the current of August heat radiating through the opened door.

Why was she so aware of this man she hardly knew, as if he’d reached out and laid his hand on her arm? It was odd. She’d never felt this before with him or with anyone.

The door clicked shut, and he stood in the direct blast of the air-conditioning vent. Hat off, eyes closed, his head tilted back in appreciation. He seemed to be enjoying the icy draft as it ruffled his short, dark hair.

“That sure cooled me down.” He clutched his hat in his big, capable hands. There was a streak of grease across the backs of his broad knuckles. “Good afternoon, Helen.”

“Sheriff.” Gramma’s pleasure warmed her voice. “It’s good to see you. Come in and cool down. Kendra will get you something to drink.”

“Oh, I will?”

Leave it to her grandmother to try to matchmake. As if it would do any good. And poor Cameron. He was struggling to be elected, and he had to be desperate if he wanted to change her tire in this heat. He shouldn’t have to keel over from heat stroke because of it.

The chair groaned in the joints as she stood, although it could have been her knees, but she didn’t want to think about the creaks in her joints since she’d turned thirty. Her tennies squeaked on the clean floor as she put as much distance between her and Cameron as she could.

“Iced tea or soda?”

“One of those flavored teas would do just fine.” Cameron followed her, as if he wasn’t about to let her escape until he had her vote. Surely that’s what this was all about.

She wasn’t so sure when she turned around, with the cool metal handle in hand, and didn’t notice the icy draft from the refrigeration unit. He was behind her, and this time she didn’t tremble. She fizzed, like those carbonated bubbles in a glass of cola. She felt bubbly down deep in her soul.

“Lemon-flavored, if you’ve got it.” His voice came warm, deep and as inviting as ever.

The bubbles inside her fizzed upward and she felt lighter than air. As if her soul turned upside down and wasn’t sad anymore. How wrong was that? Get a grip, girl.

She handed him the squat bottle. “Anything else?”

“This is all I need.” He didn’t move away as he covered the mouth of the bottle with his wide palm and twisted the cap. “Zach lent a hand, too, so we did double-time getting it done. You’re all set.”

“Thanks, Sheriff.”

“Cameron. I’ve loosened your lug nuts, I think we ought to be on a first-name basis.”

“Aren’t you funny?”

“I try to be. I get that way when I’m sugar-deprived.”

“I can take a hint. You want more of a reward for a job well done? My vote isn’t enough.”

“I could use a snack.”

Was it her imagination, or was he trying to be charming? “Does the town council know what you’re up to?”

“Why? I’m doing nothing wrong. Every cop has the civil right to doughnuts. Or those amazing chocolate cookies your grandmother makes if you happen to have any lying around taking up too much space on your shelves.”

He was definitely trying to be nice. It was hard to shoot down a man complimenting Gramma’s baking. Maybe that was one way to win elections. What did she know about politics?

“It’s your lucky day.” Kendra spied two chocolate cookies left over from the day’s sales, looking lonely on the pastry shelf below the hand-off counter. “Could you do us a favor and take them off our hands?”