Free The Sweetest Gift (The McKaslin Clan: Series 1 Book 2) by Jillian Hart Page B

give Jeremiah a call once we’re in the terminal.”
    “Yeah. I sure hope that little girl will be all right.”
    “Me, too.” She had to walk fast to keep up with his long-legged stride. “The chance to do some good, huh? You can’t be as bad as you make yourself out to be.”
    “I’m bad to the bone.” He winked, far too cocky, but she didn’t miss the shadow in his eyes, the sadness in his voice, the way he pulled away from her, keeping his distance.
    From her? Or from anyone?
    Who was this man? At first she’d thought he was a plumber, then a volunteer pilot. Now he was a lost soul, shrouded with rain.
    Why had the Lord brought him into her life? She couldn’t help asking the question as he led the way down the sidewalk and to the covered walkway into the terminal. The commuter traffic had dwindled, so there were just the two of them on the quiet section of the ferry where Sam chose a seat.
    He stared out the rain-smeared window and felt a dozen light years away.

Chapter Six
    “M y dear boy, you are coming to Sunday dinner,” Aunt Ruth said, and it was not a question. That was a command if he’d ever heard one.
    “Let me think about it. I may have to be out at the office tomorrow. Someone has to keep things running smoothly.”
    “I know you’ve got your hands full between running that airport and repairing the house, but Sunday is the Lord’s day.”
    “Fine, fine, I’ll be there. What’s in it for me?”
    Ruth’s chuckle filled the cordless phone’s receiver. “Food, nutritious food, that’s what. I know you bachelors don’t take time to cook a decent meal.”
    “Why cook when there’s takeout?”
    “On Sunday! We’ll have home cooked, and I’m taking no prisoners—isn’t that the saying? You’d better be here and I mean it.” Enjoying her new role as the commander, Ruth wished him a good night and broke the connection.
    His fondness for her remained, warm and certain. It was good to have family ties. Someone to fuss over him. To care for him.
    And cook for him. He sure liked the sound of that.
    His gaze drifted to the window, where Kirby’s house was visible in the warm rain. A nap had cleared his sleep-deprived mind, but it hadn’t driven away the confusion.
    He’d sure had fun talking with her this morning. She made him laugh. And for a little while he hadn’t felt alone. How wrong was that? He had to be alone. There was no other choice.
    When he’d buried Carla, he’d given up on relationships. He didn’t have the strength to go through that again. People hid their deep flaws and showed the good stuff. And that could cause a whole lot of heartache.
    What about Kirby? Well, she was the shining exception. He’d expected her to be less than she appeared, but she was more. She’d opened up to him and shown him a part of her she kept private.
    Okay, she was still too good to be true, right? She had to be, because he wasn’t about to start questioning everything again.
    It was easier just to keep his heart closed, and all the loss and pain and vulnerability that went with it. Closed off tight, and locked out of sight. To accept the lessons he’d learned from Carla. The goodness in a person was not stronger than the bad. His hard-won philosophy of life.
    A philosophy he’d tried to put aside this morning on the rainy beach, and couldn’t.
    He swore the rain had followed them all the way from Seattle. He’d kept ahead of the weather by the skin of his teeth, flying low and fast. Once they’d touched down on Montana soil, Kirby had gone her way, and he his.
    He’d been exhausted, and so had she. Maybe that’s why they hadn’t spoken on the return flight or as she walked away from him in the parking lot in search of her car.
    He’d thought about her all day.
    There she was, zipping along the street in her car. Pulling into the driveway with the same careful grace she did everything. Her hair was yanked back into a ponytail, the way he liked it, and shone like burnished