Читать книгу A Rugged Ranchin' Dad - Kia Cochrane - Страница 9

Prologue

Dahlia walked toward the beckoning white light. She felt warm all over—and, finally, at peace. She hadn’t felt this good since...well, since her hell on earth had begun twelve months ago.

The place was crowded. Everyone was lined up, waiting to get their wings, and to be escorted through the white gates. The guy in front of her wore brief bathing trunks, and he was carrying a surfboard, his shoulder-length blond hair still damp. He smelled faintly of salt and seaweed.

Dahlia sighed and glanced down at herself. She wasn’t much better. She had on worn, faded jeans and a soft blue denim shirt. Odd, she had always believed entering heaven meant wearing white.

She glanced at the sentinel beside the gate. He wore a long, beautiful robe of ivory silk. He also had wings and a glorious halo to go along with his leather notebook and pencil. Maybe you weren’t given white clothes until you passed through the gates.

Dahlia suppressed a sigh. What was taking so long? she wondered. She was filled with anticipation and excitement. Your loved ones were supposed to be waiting for you, weren’t they?

She bit her lower lip. Impatience was a trait she possessed in abundance, one that she wasn’t proud of, and she tried hard to rein it in.

She did permit herself a small, bouncing motion on the balls of her booted feet, hoping to relieve some of her stress. She hated waiting in lines, but comforted herself with the knowledge that this line would be her last one ever.

Finally, finally, she reached the man with the wings and the halo.

“Your name, please?” he asked briskly.

“Dahlia Tyler.”

“Ah, yes. Demise by being thrown from a horse.”

“Actually, Firelight didn’t throw me,” she gently corrected him. “The branch of a tree knocked me to the ground.”

“Ah, yes. Head injury,” he said, as though that explained everything. “My name is Basil, and I am the Chief Angel. Here is a ticket for your wings and halo at the end of the path.” He placed the ticket in her hand and immediately Dahlia found herself in a long white gown. Silk. Pure silk, she thought, running her hands over the material.

“Step through here, please.”

Dahlia studied the gate he was holding open for her. She wanted to get out of this white mist, and go through the gate. It was clear on the other side.

She could see stone pathways through beautiful green fields, could hear the sound of rushing water somewhere beyond the gate, and she wanted very much to go there. She needed to go there, where it was safe and warm—but where was...?

“Mom! Over here!”

And Dahlia saw her. Brooke. Her daughter, standing on the path. She was wearing the long white gown, wings and halo of an angel. She looked so beautiful, Dahlia’s heart ached. She hadn’t seen her little girl in such a long time.

Twelve months, to be exact.

Her little girl. Her precious baby—no, not her baby. Brooke always hated it when she called her that. Brooke was gazing back at her with big blue eyes, her long dark hair loose and free, a wreath of white flowers on her head.

“Mom, hurry! I’ve been waiting and waiting for you!” Brooke held her arms out with a joyous smile.

Dahlia started to run toward her, but Basil stopped her with a gentle, but firm, hand. “There will be a short delay,” he said quietly. “It has been brought to my attention—”

“Oh, no, please!” Dahlia cried. “Let me go through the gate now. I’ve waited so long for this,” she pleaded with him. She had to make him understand! “I want to be with my daughter. I haven’t held her or touched her in a year—”

“I am sorry, but there are rules, you know.”

Basil did look as though he regretted keeping her out of heaven, but why couldn’t he just let her go through the gate as planned? Why the delay? What had she done wrong?

“I’ve been standing in this line forever, waiting, waiting to be with my daughter.” Dahlia was close to tears.

Basil’s heavenly blue eyes rested gently upon her face. “It will only be three weeks,” he promised her.

Dahlia looked wistfully at Brooke, who was still waiting on the path. Then she nodded slowly. After all, she wanted to make a good impression. She took a deep breath and almost saluted. “All right.”

Basil looked pleased. “There is a man who is dangerously close to losing faith in himself. You are to help him find it.”

Oh, great! “Who is this man?” she asked.

Basil checked his list, then looked at her for a moment that seemed to stretch endlessly between them. “His name is Stone Tyler.”

Dahlia gasped. She’d never get into heaven now. There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell to get Stone to believe in anything. Not after what had happened to their daughter.

“This is top priority,” he continued. “Stone Tyler is worth a little more effort.”

“Yes, I know he is,” Dahlia said softly. But she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t reach him. She’d tried and failed countless times before.

“Remember the power of love.”

Dahlia sighed at the trust she saw in Basil’s blue eyes. She peeked through the gate, but she could no longer see Brooke. Wearily she turned away.

Once again Basil stopped her with a gentle hand. “You have three weeks. If you do not complete your mission and return within the scheduled time, you may not go through the gate,” he warned.

“I’ll be here. I promise.” Dahlia looked at the ticket in her hand. “Do I have to give this back?”

Basil shook his head. “No, it is yours to keep.”

Dahlia stood still for a moment, frightened by the idea of leaving this place, and of the uphill battle ahead to restore Stone’s faith in himself. But she would do it.

She had to.

She’d do whatever it took to be with her daughter again.

Then she felt herself tumbling down, down, down....