Sweet Blessings (Love Inspired) by Jillian Hart Page B

look at him and fluttered off, perhaps for good.
    â€œThank you. I’m running behind this morning.” She had a nice smile, a sincere one, and he was glad he’d been able to help.
    It felt good and solid in his chest. “Want me to set up here? I can do it.”
    â€œThat would be great. I’ve got to run and pop the cinnamon rolls into the fridge. Oh, that reminds me. Do you attend church?”
    It was a question simply spoken without judgment or expectation. But Heath felt a thud in the center of his chest, and it was as if everything inside him were falling. He gripped the chair for support as he tried to say without malice, “No. I don’t attend.”
    â€œOkay. I would have offered you a ride, but if you’d rather stay, Jodi should be in any time. Oh—” Amy cocked her head, listening. The tiny gold crosses at her earlobes winked in the sun. “Oh, here she is. I’ll tell her you’ll be here to help. I know she’ll appreciate it.”
    In the next heartbeat, she was gone, going about her morning work as if it was just another Sundaymorning, another day in her week. Leaving him alone to try to calm the rush of memories he could not stomach. Memories he did not want.
    Up in the trees beyond the privacy wall and the tall lilac bushes, the robin chirped. The train rumbling by brought with it the last of the cars and its cabooses. He waited until the train’s noise grew softer, until it was gone. He waited until the sounds of the morning, of the leaves and the birds and the clatter of dishes inside the diner crowded out the shadows.
    Quietly, purposefully, he wiped down the tables, snapped the freshly laundered tablecloths into place and figured out the strange decorative clips that held the cloths down in the wind. He heard Amy’s car start in the lot behind the restaurant and the tires rasp on the pavement as she drove away. He caught sight of her as she pulled onto the main road in front of the diner.
    She waved, friendly but with that polished manner of hers that kept her shield firmly in place. Cool and firm and polite. If he hadn’t seen her with the wild bird, he never would have guessed she was such a sweetheart. So soft and good of spirit that wild birds did not fear her.
    He knew, too, that he and Amy were more alike than different, and that was oddly surprising. A small-town waitress and a big-city doctor. Maybe that’s why he felt as if he wanted to stay on. Because he saw a kindred spirit in Amy McKaslin. She, too,kept nearly everyone at a distance, kept safe. Did she, he wondered, recognize the same in him, too?
    He wondered what pain she hid so carefully. She looked lovely, the kind of woman who’d probably had a golden life growing up in this cozy small town. Adored by her family, she probably had been a cheerleader and class valedictorian.
    But that didn’t make a person immune to tragedy. To pain. He knew from first-hand experience that no one had the perfect life, no matter how it seemed. There was no telling what scars were hidden deep inside a person.
    Somewhere nearby church bells tolled, rich and resonant.
    Feeling ties from the past, ones he could not face, he retreated inside. He shut the door behind him so he could no longer hear the bells.
    While he treasured the silence, he felt no peace.
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    â€œâ€¦and then Mrs. Winkler said God made all the stars in the heavens.” Westin paused to cough into his fist, straining against his car booster seat.
    Amy glanced anxiously into the rearview mirror, but he looked fine. His color was good. His next breath came clear. Maybe the new medicine the specialist had prescribed was doing its job. Please, Lord. She wanted a normal childhood for her little boy. With all of her heart.
    To her delight, Westin shook his head as he oftendid, and ran his fingers through his hair. The fine strands stood straight up from static electricity. He was beyond cute.
    And he knew it,