Blessed Vows. Jillian Hart
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sheets that had tumbled out with the first one.
She had a patience about her, an inner harmony that he admired. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see that she was probably great with kids. “I’m sure Sally would like to hang out with you tomorrow. Thanks.”
“Not a problem.” She rose, a petite willow of a woman who moved like poetry, like grace, like all that was good in the world.
It was nice, it was normal. He wasn’t used to nice and normal, he’d been away from a normal life for so long, he didn’t feel as if he quite fit anymore. It was heartening to see, it gave a man pause, to watch a woman in a kitchen preparing supper and to know all was safe here, all was right in this tiny piece of the world.
Maybe he could lay down his responsibilities, the constant on-guard duty he carried, and rest for a short while. He hadn’t realized how tired he was, but it washed over him like a warm rain.
“Jake, I’ll whip you up some homemade fries,” she said as she hauled real potatoes out of the pantry. “It’ll only take a second. Sally is welcome to have her soda in the living room. Why don’t I take that in to her before I start getting busy in here?”
His throat closed entirely. Unable to know what emotions were whirling around free inside him, and just as unable to speak, he held up his hand, stopping her with what he hoped wasn’t too harsh a gesture and grabbed Sally’s cup and his soda can.
He walked out of the kitchen and didn’t look back, but he swore he left a part of himself standing there, awed by the woman and her kindness.
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