Read Online Heaven's Touch by Jillian Hart - Free Book Online Page B

woman’s form, her sleek dark hair and her heart-shaped face very familiar.
    The harsh midafternoon sun blazed downward, blinding him, and the pain of the light was like a physical blow. Air whooshed out of his lungs as if he’d been sucker punched. But in that strange airless state his eyes cleared and it was Cadence he saw, hovering over him, concern soft upon her dear face. It was her voice that he heard above all others, when so many people were talking at once.
    â€œBen. Are you all right?” she asked softly.
    No, he wasn’t all right, because he was imagining her again. It had to be a concussion, he figured, or worse. What other reason could there be that he’d imagined the only woman he’d ever loved?
    Only a strange misfiring of neurons, since God wouldn’t be that cruel as to bring him face-to-face with Cadence Chapman one more time. To show him everything he could never have. It was like showing heaven to a condemned soul. For one millisecond he hoped she really was there, and then he tasted the bitter reality. The air rushed back into his lungs and his sight returned. She was not there, hovering before him like a dream.
    â€œI’m fine, really,” he told his hovering sisters, who’d caught up with them and were getting ready to diagnose a concussion. “I have a really hard head, so I’m fine. I’ve taken worse blows before this.”
    â€œThat explains a lot,” the voice that was so like Cadence’s commented dryly as she pressed a paper cup of ice to his head. “Feel better?”
    â€œHeaps.”
    Cadence? It was her? He watched as she knelt beside him, lithe and graceful as a ballerina, as wholesome as the girl next door, and real flesh and blood. No dream. No figment of his imagination.
    What are you doing here? he wondered, but didn’t ask. He could only stare in amazement as she leaned to inspect the back of his head. She smelled like those purple flowers his mom would always plant in the flower beds right up close to the house. It was a soothing scent. Lavender, that’s what it was, and the scent suited her, he thought as her fingertips grazed the back of his head.
    â€œOh, you already have a lump there. I think you need to go to the hospital and have a doctor look at that.”
    â€œI don’t have a concussion. Did you have to be the one to hit me in the head with a ball?” He wanted to be annoyed with her.
    The pain in his head was beyond annoying, but Cadence could never be. Concern softened her lovely features as she knelt close to study the size of his pupils. He hated how having her so close tugged at something within him. Like a long-forgotten door in his heart. A door he’d locked on purpose. “I’ve survived gunfire and grenades and explosives. A baseball is nothing.”
    â€œOh.” As if he’d slapped her, she jerked away. “I see. I guess you’re just fine. Good. It was nice seeing you, too.”
    She rose to her full height, and from his position flat on the ground she appeared taller than her petite five-three. Her dark hair whipped around her shoulders, the ends of the ponytail lashing back and forth, and she looked like an Amazon out for vengeance. Except her face wasn’t fierce looking, but pitying.
    Pitying. What? As if he’d turned out so bad after all? Or what? Then again, maybe it wasn’t pity he was reading on her face. It was certainly something else as she dismissed him and looked over her right shoulder.
    â€œAre you gonna hafta go into the hospital, too?” Westin had gone ashen pale as he clutched Amy’s hand, snuggling up against her legs like a frightened puppy. “They got grape Popsicles there.”
    The boy’s words were meant to be encouraging, but Ben’s chest cracked with pain. Amy had writtenabout the incident earlier in the summer when Westin had nearly drowned in the river. “Thanks, buddy. I’m okay.