Restless Heart by Wynonna Judd

Author:Wynonna Judd
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Penguin Group USA, Inc.
Published: 2010-12-01T23:00:00+00:00

TEN

Coming in from a long Friday-afternoon run, John Hart wiped the perspiration from his brow with the edge of his T-shirt. It was a warm, sunny day for November. He pulled open the refrigerator door and the cool air seeped into his sweat-soaked shirt as he snagged a bottle of water. He chugged half of it before the door even had a chance to close.

John realized he’d pushed himself too hard, but he’d been so full of frustration after this morning’s confrontation with Sara that he just kept going, mile after mile.

Now his legs felt like wet noodles, his knees ached, and his lungs burned. So what? He welcomed the exhaustion. Maybe tonight he’d be able to fall asleep instead of tossing and turning yet again. Since Sara had been sleeping in the guest room he hadn’t been able to get a good night’s rest.

He missed Sara in his bed.

He missed her, period. Missed her bright smile, her easy laughter, and her gentle touch that had been fading fast over the past few years.

“Sara?”

No reply. Her car was in the driveway, but she must have gone out with Grace.

The house felt empty, so silent that when the ice maker suddenly dumped cubes into the container, John jumped as if he’d been startled by a rumble of thunder.

Annoyed by his unaccustomed skittishness, he polished off the water and tossed the bottle into the trash with more force than needed. Pushing away from the counter, he decided he needed a long hot shower to ease his aching muscles—and the tension in his brain.

But just as he reached the bathroom, he heard the front door open and Sara and Grace chattering happily.

For a moment, he considered getting right into the shower anyway. But then he heard Grace calling him.

“Daddy? Come out here and see!”

“See what?”

Grace didn’t answer. Frowning, he left the bathroom.

The living room was empty, but several shopping bags were heaped on the sofa.

Hearing the door open again, John turned to see Grace and a friend, both wearing big sunglasses, returning with another round of bags.

“Grace, what is all that?” he asked, as her friend deposited her load and hurriedly went back out, presumably for more. “Are you moving back in?”

“No, just coming from the mall, and believe it or not, most of this stuff belongs to Mom!”

John raised an eyebrow. “Mom? Where is she?”

“She’ll be right back. This should be the last trip.”

“Back? Where . . . ?” Confused, John stared at his daughter—and then the light dawned. “Wait . . . that woman who breezed in and out of here just now was your mother?”

Grace grinned. “Who did you think she was?”

“I don’t know . . . a friend of yours or something.” Dazed, John shook his head and turned just in time to see his wife standing in the doorway.

At least, it sounded like his wife. “That was it,” she told Grace, and dumped the bags she was holding on the floor before collapsing in a chair. “I feel

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