Almost Heaven (6 page)

“Exactly. Forty acres of this is mine. Mostly wilderness except for the manicured trails. I know, because I made those trails myself.”

He shouldn't have been surprised, not after she'd admitted to learning better than adequate carpenter skills. “When did you buy this property?”

“About six years ago.”

That explained it. Right after he'd rescued her that day. Right after he'd driven her to the hospital. Sorrow for her banded his chest like a vise.

Had she put all her heartbreak and all her broken dreams into this place? “Must have been difficult clearing these paths.”

“It took me most of four months working every afternoon until dusk. I got pretty good with an ax, a saw and a shovel.”

“You did all the railing, too?”

“Until my blisters had blisters.”

Forty acres of trails? It had to have taken the better part of a year. How could someone so small and delicate work that hard?

Heartbreak. He knew, because that's how it had been after Deb passed. He'd worked long hours taking up the slack of being a single officer in a growing district, until the city had hired a deputy. He hadn't realized how much he'd stayed at the office, doing paperwork well into the evening until Frank had shown up to help out.

Only then had Cam been aware of the aching emptiness in his life.

Yeah, he knew what Kendra was talking about. He took in the rustic trails, groomed so they blended well with the environment, and the carefully constructed wooden rails that marked the edges of the trails. Solidly made.

This is where Kendra had put all her broken dreams.

It took a lot of guts to put your life back together. He admired her more as the horse moved beneath him, obediently following Kendra.

This isn't so bad, he realized. There was a sort of rhythm to the horse's gait, and he was starting to get
the knack of this riding thing. At least he didn't feel seasick anymore.

He breathed deep, taking in the beauty of the day. A strange weightless feeling expanded in his chest. Something he hadn't felt in more years than he could count—happiness.

He wanted to remember this forever. How the clean mountain air smelled like summer and sage and pine needles. The rustle of the wind in the bear grass. The faint
thunk
of hooves on the hard-packed earth. The creak of the leather saddle beneath him. The sense of rightness—as if heaven were smiling down on them in approval.

“Look, there's a fawn. He's still got his spots.” Kendra whispered, her horse stopping in the middle of the trail. “Do you see him?”

Branches swayed peacefully to his left. If he squinted, Cam could make out the faint outline of a doe frozen in the underbrush, ears alert, soft eyes unblinking, tensed as if ready to flee. At her side was a fragile, knobby-kneed fawn.

They were within throwing distance. Too close for a wild animal's comfort, surely, but instead of streaking off and taking her baby with her, the doe blinked, watching Kendra.

“You must ride up here a lot.” He pitched his voice low, to keep from scaring off the deer. “She's used to you.”

“Sure she is. Wildlife comes down into the foothills to feed this time of year, when the mountains get so
dry. After I bed the horses for the night, I go out and leave some hay and grain in the feed troughs for them. She's probably one of the deer that waits for me every evening. When they know you're not hunting them but bringing them grain, they get pretty bold.”

“Do they come right up to you?”

“Within a few feet.”

If he were a deer, he'd come up to her, too. Her gentle voice and radiant kindness were unmistakable. He had no problem picturing her feeding the wildlife. Not as many landowners in these parts would be so generous. Wild animals were seen as nuisances, mostly. And often dangerous.

As delicate and willowy as Kendra looked, she had confidence, too. She was capable. She knew how to take care of herself in the backcountry. He guessed the small pack tied to the side of her saddle, hardly noticeable, held necessities like a hand radio, knives, snakebite kit and maybe a small handgun. It looked just the right size for all that.

“I get mostly deer, elk and a few moose. The deer are the most frequent. They show up every evening and lay around the house on my lawn to sleep. I had to put up ten-foot lattice all around my rose garden to keep them out.”

“I take it they eat roses?”

“Oh, do they. The first summer I was here, they ate my tea roses down to the stems. Let's leave mama and baby. I saw some moose up here just yesterday. Maybe we can spot them again.”

“Suppose you see more dangerous critters up here, too.”

“Sometimes.”

The path had turned steep and rocky, but Kendra didn't seem worried as her surefooted mare curved around the steep hillside toward mountains so close, he had to tip his head back to see their granite faces.

“Sometimes? That doesn't sound reassuring.”

“I've come across everything from rattlers to bears.”

“And lived to tell the tale, huh?” He hadn't guessed she'd like the backcountry, too. A lot of women preferred shopping malls to spending a day where wolves and bears hunted.

“Mostly I mind my own business, they mind theirs. But that's why I keep the riders down below the tree line this time of year. So they're safe.”

They'd risen so high and fast up the slope, he couldn't see her ranch below, just the far edge of the extensive valley stretching out behind him in gold and green.

“Want to head back?”

She'd noticed where he was looking. “Back? No, I was just taking in the view. You can see the Rockies from here. And the Tobacco Roots.”

“Can you imagine when all this was wilderness, before the settlers came from the East in their wagons?”

“It had to look like this. Except
wilder.
” Lewis and Clark had come this way in their canoe and crossed
on foot the rest of the way, over the Great Divide. “Clark wrote of seeing nothing but giant herds of elk and deer and buffalo for miles.”

“It's amazing to think that it's still the same wilderness, isn't it? Without the giant herds.”

“That what I love about heading up into the backcountry. It's finding that part of Montana that's wild. The way it was a hundred years ago.”

“Exactly.”

How weird that he felt that, too. Kendra didn't know how to explain it, just that she was aware of the past that had come before her, in the hunting pair of eagles overhead and the peaceful deer resting in the undergrowth or the quiet reverence of an old-growth pine grove that had clung to the side of the mountains when natives hunted and cared for their families and each other.

God's handiwork was timeless.

They rode in companionable silence for a long while, until the sun touched the tops of the trees, making long shadows in the bunches of wildflowers and bear grass.

When she heard the faint rush and gurgle of running water, she guided Jingles off the beaten path and through the shade of Douglas fir. Creek water trickled over smooth, round rocks, so clear and clean it sparkled like diamonds in the sunlight.

“My favorite picnic spot. Just Jingles and I know about it.”

“Not anymore.”

“I guess I can share this place with you, since you understand.” She let the reins slide through her fingers, giving her mare enough slack to sip from the fresh cool water.

Palouse came to a rocking stop and did the same.

Wow. This was going better than he'd ever thought. He leaned on the wide shelf below the saddle horn, the way he'd seen his heroes Clint and John do.

What should he say now? No witty banter came to mind. Think, man. He felt itchy. Antsy. Why?

“Look, fresh tracks.” Kendra swung nimbly out of the saddle.

Okay, that was why. Were they in danger? “I don't think that's a good idea, getting down like that.” They were cougar prints. He could see them plain as day at the edge of the creek, beginning to fill in with water. “The cat was just here.”

“Still is.” Kneeling, Kendra nodded toward the way they'd come. Calm, quiet, not moving.

That was good. Never a smart idea to act like panicked prey in the backcountry. He eased down slow, glad for the locked and loaded Smith & Wesson on his hip.

“I've never had one threaten me. Mostly they keep their distance. Look, there she is. Under the fir branch there against the bank, crouched low. Oh, she's pretty.”

Cam couldn't spot the animal from where he was, and he didn't like that. The back of his neck prickled.
He liked to keep an eye on his enemies, assuming the mountain lion was looking for an early supper.

Then he saw it, a second before the low fir boughs shivered. He had his gun in his hand and was on his feet in front of Kendra, ready to protect her with his life.

The golden brown blur slipped soundlessly away over the carpet of the forest. The branches shivered, and the next instant there was no trace of the predator. Adrenaline kicked in, thrumming through him until he could hardly breathe.

He'd been so rattled, so fierce with the need to protect her, that he wasn't thinking straight. He was a tracker. He could see plain as day the cougar hadn't been hunting. Now he felt like a fool and reholstered his revolver.

“Awesome.” Unaware, Kendra rose gracefully and handed him a small bottle of water from her small nylon saddle pack and kept one for her.

“You were going to protect me.” She sounded amazed as she removed the plastic lid with a supple twist of her wrist and took a long pull.

“You? No, I was worried about
me.
I didn't want to be that cougar's early supper.”

“You have a real protective vibe going, don't you, Sheriff?”

Did he look as embarrassed as he felt? “Part of my job. Habit.”

“Habit? Like how you serve and protect?”

“Hey, don't go thinking I'm noble or something,
because I'm not.” How was he going to talk his way out of this one?

“Oh?” She crooked one eyebrow, not fooled.

“I was protecting my best interests. You know the buddy rule?”

“Sure. Don't go into the woods alone, so you have someone to help if you need it.”

“Sure, but there's more to it than that. I always make sure I go with a slower runner, that way if a bear or a cougar takes after us, you'd be the first one they'd catch and I'd be just fine.”

“That's a fine plan, but guess what? How do you know that I'm a slower runner than you are? That's why
I
wanted to take you out here instead of Colleen. She's a really slow runner, and I'd hate to lose another employee. They take time to train. You, on the other hand, what's another boarder? They're a dime a dozen.”

“You'd let a bear eat me, huh?”

“Absolutely. About as easily as you'd let a bear attack me.”

She couldn't remember when she'd laughed with a man like this since Jerrod. It just went to show what a decent man Cameron was. He'd jumped to protect her, physically put himself in harm's way for her sake. Without a thought. He just did it.

Just as he'd done before.

The laughter inside her vanished.

She retrieved her reins, fighting to keep from remembering that night. The scent of cooled sausage-
and-olive pizza sitting on the kitchen table. The rhythm of rain beating the aluminum siding. Thunder crashing overhead as if the night were breaking apart around her. Cameron pounding at the door, the flash of red-and-blue strobes cutting through the closed slats of the plastic window blinds—

“Are we heading back?” He sounded disappointed.

She gathered her reins, keeping her back to him so he couldn't see her shivering or the goose bumps on her arms, even as the bold sun scorched her skin.

He mounted up clumsily, but good for a second attempt. “Know what I think?”

Kendra found herself in the saddle, reins gathered, turning Jingles away from the creek and toward the trail. Toward home. She wanted to go home.

“I like this. It's peaceful. It's closer to being like hiking than I thought it would be. Not as near to the ground.”

She nodded, acknowledging his attempt at humor.

“It's peaceful. Closer to nature, something you don't get on a motorbike or four-wheeling.”

A tip of a pine bough brushed against her cheek, startling her. Reminding her where she was. She was here, safe, the memories were gone, tucked safely away behind the shields protecting her heart. Leaving a growing emptiness.

An emptiness that had swallowed all the warmth and laughter she'd felt with Cameron. That left her feeling alone, as she was meant to be.

She stayed several yards ahead of Cameron on the return trip through the tree line and along the well-used path until the fields and the paddocks and the buildings came into sight.

K
endra couldn't resist standing at her new niece's crib for a few more moments, gazing down on the sleeping infant, so sweet and precious and new. Love shone like the sun inside her heart. Gramma's words came to mind.
That's what your little girl will look like one day.

No way, Gramma. Kendra brushed her hand over the infant's downy head, her fine hair already thicker and curlier than when she'd been born. She was a McKaslin, all right, with the gold locks.

“You look like your mom, not me,” she told the baby, who sighed in her sleep, pressing into Kendra's touch.

Oh, I'm going to spoil you rotten, little girl. It was an aunt's privilege, after all. She thought of all the birthday presents to buy, all the fun outings ahead, finding her first pony and teaching her to ride. Buying
her riding boots and her first cowboy hat. So much to look forward to.

She felt a tug on the hem of her denim shorts.

“Auntie Kendwa?” A big girl, two and a half years old, Allie stretched out both adorably chubby hands. “Up!”

“Hey, princess.” Kendra settled her niece against her hip, heading for the door. “Are you up from your nap already?”

“Mine!” Allie pointed to the baby in the crib.

“That's right. She's your little sister. Isn't she nice?”

Allie nodded, her silken gold hair as soft as silk against Kendra's jaw. She smelled of baby shampoo and the laundry detergent Karen used and that sweet little-girl scent that was everything good. “Allie want cookie.”

“Are you a hungry girl?”

A very serious nod. “Hungwy.”

“Then we'd better go downstairs and check out the cookie jar. There just might be chocolate cookies.”

“Yum.”

Thoroughly charmed, Kendra started down the stairs and onto the main floor, careful to be quiet as she circled past the living room, where Karen was stretched out napping on the couch. She didn't stir.

“Cookie! Cookie!” Allie clapped her hands together, steepling her little fingers when she saw the jar had been refilled, thanks to a late-night baking.

“You can have two.” Kendra handed one to the girl, who took a big bite and chewed happily.

She slipped Allie into her high chair, buckled her up and locked the tray in place. She left the second cookie within reach while she searched through the cupboard for a cup. When she turned around, Allie had a cookie in each hand, both missing a big bite out of the tops of them.

Too cute. Kendra felt her self-protective armor settle back in place. This is
not
what it would be like if she had a family of her own—she wasn't going to think like that. She wasn't ever going to go there. To start picturing in her mind what it would be like if she could find a man to trust.

A man like Cameron. The thought breezed into her mind so fast and stealthily, she couldn't stop it. And where had that come from? She was
far
from interested in the local sheriff. Really. She was fine all by herself. Just fine.

A light tap on the screen door had Allie squealing. “Gwamma! Gwamma!”

“Yes, it's me, little darling.” Gramma slipped into the kitchen, carrying an insulated casserole dish and a rolled grocery bag on top, which she set on the edge of the kitchen island. “I brought dinner for you girls. I know, you were going to handle it, but you've been doing so much lately, I couldn't help wanting to pitch in.”

“Thank you, Gramma.” Kendra kissed her grand
mother's soft cheek, as delicate as paper. “You look snazzy. Where are you off to with your boyfriend?”

“Imagine, a boyfriend at my age.” Gramma sparkled with happiness as she pulled a small stuffed tiger from her purse, heading straight for the high chair and the little girl who was clapping in glee. “Look what Gramma got you.”

“A kitty!” Chocolate ringed Allie's mouth and crumbs rained from her fingers as she reached out to claim her new toy.

“There's a concert over at the university,” Gramma explained while Kendra poured Allie's milk. “Selections from Chopin. You know how I love classical music. Willard is spoiling me.”

“I knew I liked that man.” Kendra was glad to see that her grandmother, after being a widow for so long, had found someone who made her happy.

Please, help him to continue,
she prayed. She worried about her gramma, who was so trusting. Sometimes it wasn't easy to see what lurked hidden inside a person—a man.

Isn't that how she'd felt about Jerrod? He'd been a truly wonderful boyfriend at first. And then—

Her stomach turned to ice and her hand shook. The spill-proof lid skidded through her fingers and milk sloshed over the rim.

“I'm glad you're taking your time getting to know Willard.” She grabbed a paper towel to wipe up the mess. “It's good to go slow.”

“I'm enjoying every moment. It's shameful how he
spoils me. I tell him so, too, but do you know what he says? Get used to it, Helen. Goodness. He's all but swept me off my feet.”

“It's good to keep your feet on the ground.”

“That's sensible advice from a woman who has never truly been in love.” Gramma took the lid and snapped it into place. “True love is worth the flight and the fall. It's the journey that matters, dear. What choices we make, to love and to live, especially after we get hurt. Love is never a mistake. Remember that.”

Yes, it is. What else could Jerrod have been but a mistake? Maybe she'd been blind, but Jerrod had seemed kind and gallant at first. With everything she was and everything she had in her soul to give, she'd
wanted
to fall in love.

And she had. She'd been wrong. She'd made one huge glaring mistake, just one.

Nothing would ever be the same again. Nothing would ever be right.

“Great-Gramma loves you, darling.”

Kendra watched as her grandmother kissed the top of Allie's golden head, all curls and silk.

“I think it's great you're helping the sheriff out.” Gramma flashed Kendra a knowing look. “He told me all about it when he came in for coffee this morning. Said how you were helping him find the right horse.”

“It is my job.”

“Exactly.” Sparkling, full of hope, Gramma headed to the door in a swirl of color and beauty. “I'm
so pleased you do your job well. Keep up the good work.”

Really. Kendra rolled her eyes. “You could mind your own business.”

“What fun would that be? Oh, hi, girls. I'm on my way out. Michelle, you're glowing. Kirby, you look pale. Are you getting enough sleep?”

“I had a late call last night,” replied Kirby, the nurse, as she held the door. “Have a good time, Gramma.”

“Yeah, and behave!” Michelle called out, teasing. “I'm not sure about that grandmother of ours. Out until all hours of the evening with that boyfriend of hers.”

“The literature professor.” Kirby, a year younger than Kendra, set the board game and the foil-covered cake pan on the table. “Are you ready for game night? I made chocolate cake.”

“Is that taco cheese-and-macaroni casserole I smell?” Michelle followed her nose to the counter. “Ooh, and Gramma's homemade rolls. We're eatin' good tonight, but not as good as little Allie.”

“Hello, cutie pie.” Kirby freed their niece from the high chair. “Where's your mommy?”

“Sleeping,” Kendra supplied while she preheated the oven. “You guys watch Allie for me, and I'll get supper on for us.”

“My pleasure.” Kirby spirited their niece away.

Leaving Michelle to lean against the counter and gloat. “Do you know what I heard? That you spent
yesterday afternoon with a certain handsome lawman. One that was the recipient of your baked goods the other day.”

“You mean Frank, the deputy?”

Michelle scowled playfully, because there was an abiding love between them. “Cameron is a good man. Good in the way that matters. The kind of man that stands tall and loves deep. Way to go, sis.”

“I'm not seeing the sheriff.”

“Face it. You literally
saw
him. You were alone with him. I'd call that a date.”

Her stomach turned into a cold, hard ball. “You're making something out of nothing. It's business. He wants to buy a horse. I'm going to help him. I do that. I own a riding stable, remember?”

“Yeah, but it doesn't have to be
all
business.” Michelle grabbed the board game and began unboxing the set. The clatter of tokens and the spill of hotels filled the silence between them.

Kendra took the lettuce from the refrigerator and tore open the plastic wrap. Why were her hands trembling again? It's just business, she wanted to say one more time convincingly, but to who? To Michelle? Or herself?

Cameron is a good man. Good in the way that matters.
How did Michelle know? And were there any good, decent men left out there? The kind that never hurt, that always stayed? How would she know when she found one?

Or would she make the same mistake?

As if in answer, her arm ached, the pins and plates that had held her bones together gone now, but the memory remained.

As deep as those scars had gone, there were others that had cut more deeply. Those scars hurt, too.

 

It was amazing the difference a new interest could make in a man's life. Cameron had slept like the dead, something he hadn't done in more years than he could count.

Rested, it was that much easier to face work on a Monday morning, whistling while he strolled around the echoing office making coffee and punching out reports.

Frank happened by a few minutes before eight o'clock, keys jingling, looking dog tired. “What's with you? I could toss you in the holding cell. There ought to be some ordinance against being happy before coffee.”

“I've already had mine. It's hot.” He gestured toward the low filing cabinet where the coffeemaker sat, light on, coffee steaming.

Frank frowned and he grabbed a mug with a clink and poured. “It's got to be that woman. If you're dating her, then does that mean we'll be getting more cookies?”

“You can hope, but I'm not dating her.”

Frank swiped one of the last two from the plate by the sugar packets. “Want the last one?”

“Already helped myself.” Cameron stapled the last
report and checked his e-mail. Nothing much, just a reminder for this month's council meeting from the mayor's secretary.

“Hmm, these sure are good.” Frank chewed as he headed toward the door. “Did you score another date with her for this weekend?”

“I told you. I didn't have a first date with her.”

“That's your story. I don't think you're telling me the truth, man.”

“That's none of your business.”

“Sure it is, if cookies are involved.”

“We didn't have a date, but I did spend time with the lovely lady over the weekend.”

“You mean a woman that fine actually deigned to speak to a guy like you?”

“A few words. I'm thinking there'll be more if I board a horse at her place.”

“Wait. Hold it. What horse?”

The phone at his elbow rang, the first line lit up bright red. He grabbed the receiver, since Frank was taking his last bite of the cookies.

“Hello, Sheriff,” said the sweetest voice ever.

“Kendra.”
Did he sound way too unprofessional or what? He cleared his throat and tried to sound more dignified. “What can I do for you on this fine morning?”

“I've got some good news for you.”

“I like the sound of that. Frank and I polished off the last of your cookies, crumbs and all. Thank you. Haven't had better cookies.”

“I'm glad you liked them.”

Was it his imagination, or did she sound glad to talk to him?

“I may have found the perfect horse for you.”

“Worked on that mighty fast, did you?”

“That's my job. I put out a few feelers, and guess what? I just got off the phone with a former client. I taught his kids to ride, and they're a very fine family of horse lovers. They have a gelding they're interested in selling, but only to someone who will be good to him. He's a registered quarter horse, but they are willing to budge on the price quite a bit. They'd rather he went to a good home.”

Nerves coiled in the pit of his stomach. This was a big step. He was ready for it, but… “I don't want to make a mistake. Is he a good horse?”

“I trained him.”

That said something. “Would
you
buy him, if you were me?”

“Absolutely. Warrior is a good-hearted animal. Plus, he's trained for the backwoods. The father and son are outdoorsmen, like yourself. The son's going off to college, and they don't want to sell, but they don't want the horse to be lonely, either. Would you like to look at him?”

“Would you come with me?”

“Sure. Let me check my schedule.” He could hear Kendra flicking through her paperwork, all business. “I could do it this evening.”

“So can I. Want me to ride out and pick you up?” A man could always hope.

“Oh, no, that's going well out of your way.”

“You're going out of yours to help me. The least I can do is provide the transportation.”

“Don't worry about it. I do this all the time.”

“As long as you're sure.”

“Absolutely.” Kendra couldn't believe what a nice guy Cameron was. She thought about what her sister had said.
The kind of man that stands tall and loves deep.

Michelle was happily married. Maybe she knew the measure of a man when she looked at him. Kendra couldn't argue that Michelle was right.

Only the Lord knew how protective he'd been to her the night her life was in danger. How tall he'd stood. How strong.

How kind he'd been in the face of devastation and broken faith.