The Sweetest Gift (The McKaslin Clan: Series 1 Book 2) Read online

  He wasn’t interested in her. He didn’t look at her that way, the way a man did when he was truly interested.

  Or did he?

  Either way, her time was up. She’d better get going so she wouldn’t be late for her last day of work. Times had been so tough when she’d first decided to go back to graduate school, and slowly things had worked out. She’d found private nursing work, and then landed a swing shift at the hospital and had enough extra money to buy her own house. Her life was turning out fine.

  Maybe this sadness she carried and the loneliness of being single would work out fine, too.

  There was Sam again, striding with that easy athletic gait of his heading back from the hardware. A small bag in hand. Leo at his side. Unaware of her, he opened the door and waited for Leo to leap into the cab.

  For one brief second he hesitated. Windblown and sun kissed and as handsome as temptation. Then his gaze swung toward her and stopped at her table. Could he see her? Did he know she was watching him?

  His smile came slow and sweet. He saluted her before he climbed into his truck.

  Kirby woke the next morning to blissful peace. Jessie was curled up in her little dog bed in the corner of the room, a soft bundle of golden curls and sweetness. It sure was nice having Sam for a neighbor. It was—Kirby squinted at her clock—11:06 a.m. and she’d slept straight through last night without a single outside noise loud enough to wake her.

  Her last swing shift. Whew. Kirby rolled out of bed and pulled back the curtains. Dappled sunshine tumbled into the room with a warm, lemony cheer that made her feel as if this new phase of her life was going to start out just right.

  She’d done a lot of volunteer work at the free clinic, to gain experience and because serving her community was what she was driven to do. Obligated. A quick flash of an image burst into her mind, of flame and broken metal and seat stuffing strewn in the grass—

  No. I won’t think of it. She’d vowed never to think of it again. She’d given all she could of her fear and uncertainty from the accident to the Lord. Some of it lingered still.

  She hauled her nightshirt over her head and stepped into the bathroom. She crossed in front of the counter-length mirror to grab a soft fluffy towel from the shelf, and saw her reflection.

  The scars of pink and red that splashed across her back and shoulders were an ugly, horrible reminder. She looked away and hung the towel on the wooden dowel next to the bathtub.

  She’d been lucky. The scars didn’t show, unless she wore a tank top in the summer, and she rarely did that anymore. How many times had she given thanks the scars weren’t on her face? Or her hands? The burns had been slight compared to others—

  You have a lot to be thankful for, Kirby Anne McKaslin. And she was thankful. But she felt guilty, too.

  She was here when so many others, people who were more faithful, better people, were not.

  And why was this bothering her so much? Oh, she knew the answer to that. Sam Gardner. He wasn’t interested in her. He had problems and sorrow of his own. He wasn’t interested in dating her.

  And even if he was interested, what would he think of her scars?

  What would he think of the ones he could not see?

  Well, that settled it. She knew it would take a rare man—and maybe there never would be one—who could love her, anyway.

  She turned the faucets and adjusted the water and vowed to put Sam Gardner out of her thoughts.

  That vow lasted almost an entire hour and eighteen minutes. She was fertilizing the roses in her front flower beds against the house when she heard a pickup easing down the quiet street. She checked on her dog. Jessie was lying in the shade from the hedges and chewing on her favorite rawhide bone. Kirby recognized the big pickup slowing down.

  Sam. He stopped in the middle of the empty street and his window slid downward. The dark glasses he wore accentuated the straight blade of his nose and the hard line of his jaw as he nodded to her. “Thought you were going to keep the noise down.”

  “I’m being too loud?”

  “Sure. I thought we had an agreement. You keep your band members quiet, and I’ll do the same with mine. But now it’s no deal.”

  Jessie hopped up and ran with her bone to the sidewalk. She wagged her tail in greeting. Kirby dashed after her, just to make sure she stayed out of the street. “Jessie and I are just getting started with our loud and rowdy ways. Take it as fair warning.”

  “I’m so afraid. What are you girls doing?”

  “Jessie is supervising while I play gardener.”

  “You girls have fun. The boy and I are going to paint today.” Sam tipped his hat, friendly, the same way he might treat any neighbor.

  And that’s what they were. Neighbors. Nothing more and nothing less. “Good luck,” she called.

  He waved as he pulled into his drive, then disappeared behind the tall hedge.

  Now, how long can you go without thinking of him again? she thought. Forty-five minutes later she was rinsing out the bucket when Jessie woke up with a startled bark from her nap in the shade and ran off at top speed, her short little legs churning and her long flopping ears flying back in the wind.

  “Hey!” Kirby took off after her, only to skid to a stop in the middle of the lawn.

  Sam knelt in the middle of the sidewalk, looking fine in a pair of worn jeans and a black T-shirt that said Born To Fly. The dark material emphasized his rock-solid build. The wonderful, masculine look of him…

  Don’t look. That was the best solution, she thought as an awkward silence stretched between them. Jessie and Leo touched noses and wagged tails in greeting.

  She broke the silence. “How’s the painting going?”

  “I got everything taped. I wanted to get started, but the boy decided I should take him for a walk. He kept bringing me his leash and standing in the way. I figured it would be more productive to give in.” With obvious affection Sam ran his hand over the dog’s broad head. “I haven’t seen you in a while. Where have you been hanging out?”

  “I’ve had church and family and work obligations.” She realized he hadn’t mentioned yesterday in town, when he’d spotted her watching him through the coffee-shop window. Neither did she. “I noticed you were at church with your aunt.”

  “You noticed, huh? I tried to be inconspicuous, but that’s what I get for being tall.”

  “You’re conspicuous not because you’re tall.”

  “Oh? Because of my handsome good looks?”

  “Few women would call it that.”

  Another silence settled between them. Awkward feeling. This man in front of her was a different side of Sam. While he bantered with her, his joking lacked heart. He seemed different from the man she’d gotten used to laughing with. Different from the man she’d seen at his living-room window, staring into the rain.

  “Want to come on a walk with us? Leo and I could use the company.”

  “Jessie has already had her walk.”

  “Really? Maybe she’d still like to take a spin around the block. How about it, Jess?” He knelt, and his big, rough-looking hands were kind as he stroked the top of her head. He tilted his head, as if he were listening to her. “You do? Okay, I’ll tell her.”

  He straightened, humor flickering in his dark eyes. “Jessie says that she’d love to go. She just needs her leash. Could you get that for her, please?”

  “Aren’t you funny?”

  “I’m a comedian, remember? And I have a strange sympathetic relationship with dogs. I understand them. They understand me. It’s a gift.”

  “I’ll get her leash.” Honestly. Was it her fault the dogs and the man next door had already made the decision? She had no other option than to grab the pink nylon rope from the front step, where she’d left it when she’d decided to let Jessie run in the yard unimpeded.

  “What are you doing playing hooky?” she asked as she snapped the leash into place.

  “The airport runs itself for the most part. That’s the beauty
of it. I can work when I need to, but take off when I want. What? Don’t look at me like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like you think I could be more industrious. I worked long and hard for twelve years in the military. The corporate job I had, I was never home. I figure after sixteen years of working nonstop, I’ve earned a little time when I want it.”

  “Hey, I didn’t say you hadn’t.”

  Leo took off with an eager lunge, and her polite cocker spaniel followed him. She tried to fall in step with Sam on the sidewalk. But he took off in a fast march like a soldier taking point.

  “I’ve always wondered what you do in your spare time, when you’re not saving sick kids or flying off on a mission of mercy. Now I know. You grow roses and walk your dog.”

  “Speaking of curiosity, everyone is wondering about the mysterious stranger come to town with his expensive new helicopter and the dog he takes just about everywhere.”

  “I have two choppers. A man needs his play toys to be happy.”

  “Oh, so you go up in the sky to play? Sure. Don’t we all.”

  “What? You don’t like flying?”

  “I don’t mind it except for the small fact that the ground is so far away.”

  Sam checked traffic at the curb, but Leo had already decided the coast was clear, touched his nose to Jessie’s and protectively paraded across the street. He was a good dog. Sam felt no small bit of pride in that. God had blessed him with a best friend, a companion to fill the loneliness of his life.

  He would be forever grateful, because the truth was, he’d never consider marrying again.

  Kirby knew that. Right? She wasn’t looking at him in that way as she had when they’d first met. As if she were sizing him up as a potential suitor. Nope, she hardly even looked at him as she power-walked beside him, struggling to keep up. And he was holding Leo back, too.

  “Slow down, boy.” He chuckled when Leo tossed a questioning look over his shoulder. Yeah, he knew, they were going more slowly than their normal pace, but this was no normal walk. The little spaniel was wearing herself out.

  It was companionable, even at what Sam considered a snail’s pace. The shade from the trees lining the sidewalk was pleasant. The neighborhood was tidy, the cozy houses well kept and surrounded with picket fences and flowers and well-maintained lawns.

  Peace. Contentment. He’d come a long way to find it, and had fought long and hard to be here. In this place in his life. He’d lived through hell and back in his career. He’d lost his heart in his marriage. He still had his soul, and that’s why he was here. Drinking in the soothing sunlight like water, letting it warm him. Reminding him that God made good on His promises. There were bad times, but the good ones always came. And they were all the sweeter.

  Leo leaped across the street—there was no traffic, Sam knew, as he’d already checked—and off came the leash. With a hop and a bark the rottweiler took off at a dead run, then turned to look over his shoulder expectantly.

  “I know, I’m not fast enough for you.” Sam yanked the throw toy out of his jeans back pocket and hurled the orange bone hard. It flew end over end through the streaks of sunshine among the old maples ringing the children’s play area and into the open green grass. Leo bounded in glee after it.

  Kirby had knelt to unsnap her spaniel’s leash. The polite little creature wagged her little stub of a tail, eager to join in the fun, but obedient. What gentleness, Sam thought, watching. Kirby ran her slim, sensitive fingers over her dog’s back. “There you go. What a good girl you are.”

  The spaniel touched her nose to Kirby’s in obvious adoration before she turned tail and leaped toward Leo, who was returning with the toy clamped between his powerful teeth. Leo strutted, proud of his remarkable fetching skills.

  “Can I pet the doggie?” A cute little girl about knee-high toddled away from the play area. Her mother came running up.

  “He’s good with kids,” he told the woman.

  Since Leo was a fan of receiving attention from adoring females, he sat and looked as handsome as possible while the little girl stroked her small hand down his front leg.

  “His name is Leo and this is Jessie,” Kirby said as she knelt beside Leo and showed the child how to caress the top of the dog’s head.

  Leo preened, trying to charm the watchful mother over. He was a ham for attention.

  Sam leaned back against a solid tree trunk, contemplating his next-door neighbor. Her soft almost curly hair tumbled down her back and rose on the breeze and gleamed in the sun. Kirby McKaslin was the most enchanting woman he’d ever met.

  And what chance did a man like him have of loving a woman like that?

  The truth was, she wasn’t going to love him in return.

  He wouldn’t want her to.

  No. She deserved a whole lot more than he could ever give her. Longing shadowed her eyes and showed plainly on her face as she interacted with the little girl.

  Sadness weighed him down and he took off, just to get away.

  Marriage. Kids. It wasn’t going to happen. His heart was cold and broken and in so many pieces, how could it ever be made whole again? And if it could, he’d never trust another woman. Not even this captivating lady with gentle, healing hands and the loveliest smile on earth.

  Sitting in the quiet of her house on Sunday evening when the sunlight grew soft and pearled, she frowned at the numbers illuminated on the screen of her portable calculator. And retotaled her outstanding checks.

  The hardest part about living in a small town was that a girl couldn’t keep a secret. By week’s end, Kirby was worn out from explaining to her sisters, her parents, her friends and to Jeremiah, during her Saturday-morning shift at the free clinic, that no, she wasn’t dating Sam Gardner.

  How had half the town spotted them at the small neighborhood park for what couldn’t have been more than forty-five minutes? The dogs had played so well together, it was a sign, Michelle said. Karen wanted to know if she’d say yes if Sam happened to ask her out for dinner. Kendra said she’d heard good things through the grapevine about Sam.

  He’d made good money as a corporate pilot and had invested his money well, Ruth Gardner had added at the gas station, when they both happened to be filling their tanks. He’d been hurt, and he needed a good woman to show him love was worth the risk.

  Fine, but would that woman be her? Nope. Kirby wasn’t going to pine after a man who didn’t look at her in that way. Not lustful or anything like that—that wasn’t what she meant. She wanted a husband who would love her as if she’d hung the moon, in spite of her flaws. A man who looked at her and saw his everything.

  That certainly wasn’t Sam. And if she was disappointed, well, she was an adult. She could handle it. She tried to keep faith that God had someone special in mind for her. Somewhere her one true love was waiting for her.

  When that time came, she knew that the angels would give her a sign. So when she fell in love, it would be with the right man, and it would be forever.

  That’s fine and dandy, Kirby, but this train of thought isn’t helping you balance your checkbook.

  Well, short of a miracle, she wasn’t going to find the 1.63 she was missing.

  Someone knocked at her front door—probably Michelle—and Jessie woke with a start from her nap and dashed across the house, eagerly greeting whoever was walking right in. There was a rustle of paper and a tap of shoes on the entry tile.

  “Hi there, cutie.” It was Michelle.

  After appropriately greeting the dog, Michelle bounded into the kitchen with a handful of helium balloons and a grocery sack. “Surprise! It’s not every day a girl starts work at her very own practice.”

  “Hey, thanks.” Kirby took the bunch of balloons thrust at her. Half a dozen orbs floated overhead and bounced against her stucco-covered ceiling. The sayings ranged from Congratulations to You Go Girl! to Happy Bon Voyage!

  “I liked the color,” Michelle explained. “Karen’s not coming tonight. She’s too tired
, and I told her to stay home and let her husband spoil her. There’s always next week. Did she tell you about the baby’s name? Isn’t that awesome?”

  “Yes.” Kirby’s throat ached as she anchored the balloons to the back of the closest kitchen chair.

  Life moved on—it was the way of things. But it wasn’t easy.

  Why was she feeling so down today? So hopeless?

  Because she knew what Michelle was going to say next, and she was tired. She was weary of wondering if every unmarried man she met was the one. She’d done this too many times, with exactly the same kind of outcome. When she’d first met Jeremiah on a medical flight he hadn’t been seeing anyone. And she’d hoped, briefly, that he might be the man for her.

  But no, they hadn’t had much in common besides their volunteer work, and he’d never once shown any interest in her.

  And that had been true time and time again. With the new youth pastor at their church. Same thing. She’d gotten up her courage to say hello to him at the Labor Day picnic, and he’d looked right past her and politely asked if she’d thought of helping out with the youth group.

  And maybe it hit her so hard because she felt something different for Sam. She didn’t merely see him. She felt him. Felt the sadness in his heart.

  It was a connection that tugged at her like the earth at the moon, pulling her close and not letting her go. Even now, when she knew there was no chance, she still felt that invisible thread of her heart to his. All she had to do was look out the window and see him on his ladder, scraping off the paint from his house, and she ached.

  I could love that man, deep and true and forever.

  It hurt that he didn’t want her. Didn’t feel the same in return.

  Show me what to do with these feelings, Lord, she prayed as Michelle pulled the box of Scrabble from the bag she carried and began setting up at the kitchen table.

  Michelle had that look about her, but before she could say one word about Sam, Kendra burst through the door with a cake and a casserole. Kirby made sure the subject of Sam Gardner didn’t come up in conversation that evening. Or haunt her thoughts as she lay awake staring at the wall until sleep finally claimed her.