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

Kirby’s rosebud mouth dropped open in surprise. “Her nephew?
You?
”

“That’s an affirmative.”

She stared at him. “Ruth Gardner is petite and blond, and you look like James Bond gone bad. Are you sure you’re related to her?”

James Bond, huh? He liked that. “Yep. She married my dad’s brother. He passed last year. I came for the funeral, and realized how alone Ruth was. No children of her own, and so she’d always done her best to spoil me when I was growing up. I figured I might move here and keep an eye on her. She’s the only family I’ve got.”

Kirby’s blue eyes warmed a notch as she studied him again. This time with a much higher regard. “Ruth belongs to my church. She’s a very nice lady. I’m sure she’s relieved you’re helping her out with this house. She had nothing but problems with the last renters.”

“Yep, but I came and evicted them. No more problems.”

“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that. You’ll find a nice quiet couple or a young family, maybe. Responsible people to rent, right?”

There she went, being too friendly again. He’d gone too far. He didn’t think of himself as a man with natural charm. In fact, he
tried
to scare away marriage-seeking women on purpose. Looked as if he’d better try harder.

“So, what about that favor? I had to shut off the water to the house. Trouble is, I need to flush a pipe, and I can’t turn on the main valve. Would you let me use your garden hose for about five minutes?”

“Five minutes, not six?”

“How about five and a half?”

“Deal. The hose is in the back. Just go through the side gate.” Soft humor sparkled in those pretty blue eyes of hers.

Not that he was dazzled in the least by her pretty blue eyes. He was a disciplined man, and he knew enough about women to know he’d better stop noticing how lovely she was. The girl-next-door type was always the same.
Always.
He ought to know, since he’d married one, and what a disaster that had been.

Don’t think about it, man. Sam forced the memories away even before they could bounce off the titanium shield around his heart. He was well protected. Self-controlled. He wasn’t going to think that because Kirby was nice, she would be any different down deep when times got tough. Because she wouldn’t be.

Keep your distance, Gardner. That would be the wisest course. He hadn’t survived some of the toughest battles in recent military history only to let another woman take him down. He knew how to get out of disasters alive and when to avoid them entirely.

He knew exactly how love could break a man, and what a nice, sweet-looking woman could do to his soul.

He was here for a reason, nothing more. “Is the gate locked?”

“No.” She flicked a golden strand of hair behind her slim shoulder, her brows furrowed beneath her wispy, windblown bangs, as if she were trying to look deep inside him.

Good luck. He didn’t let anyone close, most of all a lovely woman like her with a heart-shaped face, a creamy clear complexion and a few freckles scattered across the bridge of her nose. Freckles she tried to hide with a light coat of makeup. Not that he was noticing. He wasn’t. Really.

Her lips were bare of lipstick or of that shiny-looking stuff women wore on those makeup commercials. Her mouth was softly shaped and kind, as if she smiled.
A lot.

Yep, she was sure going to be trouble. Trouble because he liked her on sight. And hated that he did. “There’s a few boards missing off the top of the fence I need to fix, but I’m gonna need access to your yard to do it. Do you mind?”

“No, but that’s half of my fence, too, and I should pay you.”

“Seeing as you’re willing to compensate me, I’d sure appreciate a tall glass of iced tea.”

“Fine. Iced tea it is. But only half a glass up front,” she called over her shoulder as she unlocked her front door. “You’ll get the rest when the job’s finished.”

“What?”

“Isn’t that the standard business practice? When I had my new roof put on, it was half payment up front. The rest on completion of a satisfactory job.”

He laughed. He couldn’t help it. “Lady, that’s no way to treat your new neighbor.”

N
eighbor? Kirby whirled around. This couldn’t be true.

“Yep. Surprised you, did I? You didn’t think I’d be your new next-door neighbor. Your new next-door nightmare.”

The keys tumbled from her fingers and hit the front step with a terrible, final clink as if to say, “Disaster.”

She rescued her keys from the ground, heart pounding and her mind spinning. No, she couldn’t have heard him right. There was no possible way. Ruth had made promises. Ruth was a trustworthy, dependable Christian woman. Ruth wouldn’t have lied or broken her word.
Next time I’ll find a decent, quiet, responsible neighbor,
she’d said.

This
man looked anything but quiet and responsible. He looked as if a squad of Special Forces commandos might come by at any moment and recruit him.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope. I bought furniture this morning. It’s gonna be delivered tomorrow between ten and noon.” He wedged his hands in his jeans pockets, widening his stance. His chest was impressively broad and strong looking.

Not that she should be noticing. “You can’t be my new neighbor. I mean, the house isn’t even up for rent yet. I know, because I just talked to Ruth yesterday.”

“You didn’t speak with her today, did you? Or you’d have all the latest details.”

Doom. Kirby could feel a dark cloud settle around her like midnight fog.

What had Mrs. Gardner promised?
That’s a mistake I won’t repeat again, dear—you have my word on that. No more bachelors in my rental house. I know there are discrimination laws, but those single men can sure be trouble….

Sam Gardner looked like a single man to her, nephew or not, since no wedding ring marked the fourth finger of his left hand.

Or was he the kind of married man who didn’t wear a ring? That was even worse!

He paced closer. “You suddenly don’t look very happy. You don’t approve?”

“I’m wary because I’ve had my fair share of neighbor disasters.”

“Like fires?”

“Not fires. Weekend parties and night-long drum practice sessions in the garage.” Which she hadn’t been able to sleep through.

Please, at least let him be married. Stable. Did she dare hope that he was very busy being a plumber during the day so he had to sleep at night? “Will you be inviting over large numbers of people and playing heavy metal music extremely loud after midnight?”

“Probably. The good news is that I won’t be living alone for much longer. My rock-band buddies will be moving in shortly.” One dark brow quirked. “Is that what you mean by neighbor disasters?”

She saw the next six months of peaceful nights’ sleeping vanish before her eyes. “Yes, that’s exactly what I mean.”

Catastrophe. There was no other word for it. And this was Mrs. Gardner’s relative. There was no way she’d evict her own nephew.

“I throw wild parties at least three times a week. That’s why I got booted out from my last five apartments.” He winked at her. “Did that answer your question?”

He was teasing her. Great. She’d been praying for a nice responsible Christian man for a neighbor and what did she get? A comedian. He’d been teasing her all along.

She didn’t
want
to like him. The only reason a handsome man like him paid any attention to a girl like her was that they wanted something. Wasn’t that the way it was? She was ordinary looking, nothing special, and that was okay, because it just showed this man was not her Mr. Right.

Her true love would see past her plainness and see her. And he’d love her, shortcomings and failures and strengths. That’s the way love should be.

She unlocked her second lock as her little dog barked through the wooden door. “Oh, about the hose. Please don’t forget to coil it up when you’re through.”

“I’ll leave it the way I found it. Don’t worry. I might be loud and inconsiderate when I’m playing my drums all night, but I’m careful with garden hoses.”

Why was she laughing? She shouldn’t be encouraging him. She snatched her mail from the slim black box next to the front door. She wasn’t even going to look at the bills that had come. She had bigger problems. Her new neighbor. So he wasn’t what she’d prayed for. He wasn’t going to be a problem, right?

Maybe she wasn’t seeing the whole picture. Maybe he’d taken off his wedding ring when he worked so he wouldn’t catch it on a pipe or something. That meant there was a chance he could be married and responsible.

He didn’t look responsible, but still, a girl had to have hope. “Will your wife be joining you?”

“No, no wife. No woman can put up with all the groupies from my band.”

“I can’t believe Mrs. Gardner is letting a man like you stay in her house.”

“There’s this nondiscrimination law. She had to let me in or I threatened to sue.” Dimples cut into his cheeks as he tunneled his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, standing strong and at ease, like a man always in charge. “Don’t worry, I’ll be a good neighbor. I won’t throw parties and don’t play loud music. I’m usually working.”

“Working.” She should have guessed it by the hard, lean look of him. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those workaholic types.”

“Yes, but it’s not my fault. It’s genetic. I tried a support group for a while, but it cut into my work time.”

“I suppose it’s a competitive, stressful calling, being a plumber. Nighttime leaking pipes, early-morning bathtub backups and emergency pipe unclogging.”

“Are you mocking me?” That seemed to make those troublesome glints in his eyes shine more brightly. “Sure, go ahead and make me angry. I may have to go let off steam. Did I mention I play drums? Yep. I plan to set up in the garage. Will that bother you at night?”

He flashed her a grin before padding soundlessly away. He moved like a well-trained athlete, like a man comfortable with his power. Not married, huh?

She was a woman. She couldn’t help noticing the wide, capable cut of his shoulders beneath the plain gray T-shirt. Or his long legs encased in denim as he disappeared around the corner of her house.

Not that she was interested. She wanted a nice Christian man. He looked like anything but.

“Best get the tea steeping, because I’m a fast worker,” he called from the side yard, out of sight.

The side gate of the fence squealed open and then snapped shut.

He might not be Mr. Right, but he was funny. Heroes in the movies weren’t this good-looking.

Her dog started barking an enthusiastic greeting through the door. Kirby banned all thoughts of Sam Gardner from her head and turned the old brass knob.

The instant she opened the door, the little spaniel leaped at her knees, panting happily. Kirby knelt to hug the wiggling creature. There was nothing like being welcomed home. And until she had a family of her own, she was blessed with this little animal that was always so glad to see her.

“C’mon, Jessie. Let’s get you outside.” Kirby’s problems felt far away as she set down her purse and followed her best friend through the house. The little blond dog, nothing but fluff, curls and long ears, dashed ahead, leading the way.

“Did you have a good day guarding the house?” Kirby talked to fill the silence that was broken only by the occasional creak of the wood floorboards and the tap of her heels. “I know, it’s a tough job, but you did well. Yes, you did.”

The dog panted happily, already at the back door, sitting politely and gazing at the doorknob.

There he was! Sam Gardner. Kirby froze at the sight of him, then took one step back away from the window. Staying out of his sight, she watched him through the sun-streaked glass. Looking like a rodeo hero, he slung the coiled green hose into the air like a lasso. It unfurled as it sailed over the top of the fence and into his backyard.

Sam Gardner met only one of her criteria. He was attractive. She watched his toned muscles ripple beneath his T-shirt as he adjusted the hose over the top of the board fence and stalked out of sight.

Too bad. She’d be willing to settle for him if he met even one more of her criteria.

A second later, she could hear the sound of water running. “What do you think, Jess?”

The dog didn’t bother to bark. She looked at the doorknob expectantly.

“Some watchdog you are. You’re too friendly. You didn’t even snarl when he was in the backyard.”

The dog gazed up at her happily, long silky ears flopping, pink tongue lolling.

“I know, you’re a fierce one.” Kirby patted the dog’s soft round head, laughing because she couldn’t imagine her sweet-hearted dog hurting anyone.

She couldn’t imagine Sam Gardner running from anyone or anything. He had that tough, dangerous look about him. The one that made a girl’s pulse skyrocket. Even an average and ordinary girl like her.

There he was again. She could see him on the other side of the fence, in his yard, tugging the hose in a competent, expert way that said he could handle anything. Shocks of dark hair tumbled over his brow as he worked, and the sunshine flitted over him like grace.

He’s probably not a Christian, not nice, not considerate and hardworking, she told herself, as if that were any consolation. Except that didn’t ring true.

The dog scratched at the door.

Had she drifted off again? Yep, she was always doing that. Kirby turned the knob and opened the door. Maybe she’d go out with the dog and make sure Sam had shut the side gate. He didn’t look like the responsible type—

A shadow leaped toward her. Big. Dark. Threatening. She fell back against the door, from calm to terrified in a millisecond. She tried to scream.

Couldn’t.

The shadow became an enormous dog hurtling toward her. Its powerful jaw opened to reveal enormous sharp teeth. He leaped through the open door and planted his huge muddy paws on her shoulders. Bright, happy brown eyes smiled at her. A wide, wet tongue swiped across her chin in a friendly hello.

“I guess you’re not too dangerous.” Kirby wiped her face with her sleeve. “Down.”

Pleased with himself, the dog dropped to all fours, glad to sniff noses with the little blond spaniel dancing around him in greeting.

That was one enormous dog. He was at least midthigh high, with a neat short black-and-brown coat. He paraded into her kitchen as if he owned it.

I bet I know who owns him. Kirby thought of that rugged, all-too-confident man next door. The one who mentioned the boards down in their mutual fence. A dog owner would be concerned about a damaged fence.

There
was
a resemblance between the man and his canine. The dog sauntered over to the kitchen counter and grabbed the biscuit box off the edge of it. As if he had great practice at doing this very same thing many times before, he upended the box onto the floor and little bone-shaped treats scattered everywhere.

Her little spaniel sat politely eating only one treat, but the bold dog attacked the pile of biscuits as if he’d been starved for days.

“Yep, you belong to Sam Gardner. No doubt about that.” Kirby knelt to retrieve what she could of the scattered biscuits. The dog only ate faster, sucking up as many treats as his mouth could hold. “You are a bad dog. I hope you know that.”

He didn’t seem the slightest bit repentant.

“It’s probably not your fault. Look at your owner. You can’t help it.” She put the box on top of the refrigerator, far out of reach. She patted her little dog and gave her another biscuit for being so polite.

“No more for you, buster.” Kirby told the intruder. “C’mon, we’re taking you back where you belong.”

The dog looked appalled as she snapped a bright pink leash to his chain collar, but he went with her willingly. He was a very good-natured dog. The spaniel followed them to the door, whining when it was clear she had to stay behind.

“Sorry, Jessie.” When Sam’s dog lunged off the front steps, dragging her with him, Kirby thought he must have been an obedience-school dropout.

“Just like your owner, aren’t you?” She coiled the leash when she caught up with him, holding him firmly. “You are good-looking. I bet all the girls tell you that.”

As if in complete agreement, the dog hauled her around the hedge, obviously too self-confident for his own good.

Just like his owner.

The phone was ringing loud and clear through the window he’d left open to air out the kitchen. Sam dumped the end of the garden hose and crashed through the old screen door. He caught the receiver on the fourth ring. “Yeah?”

“Oh, I was about ready to hang up.” Aunt Ruth’s chipper voice singsonged in his ear. “I thought maybe you gave me a number that wasn’t hooked up yet. But I should have known the go-getter you are would have your telephone in already.”

“It was tough work to dial the phone company. Nearly took all my energy. Now I’m too weak to fix the plumbing.”

A warm chuckle rang on the other end of the line. “Oh, you can always make me laugh, boy.”

“A man does what he can.” Warmth seeped into the center of his chest. He loved his aunt, who’d been a second mother to him and had written him faithfully every week when he’d been in the military. And during the tough times afterward.

“I suppose you’ve already got your tool belt on and working.”

“The tools are on the floor, but I am tinkering away.”

If he could call it tinkering. It was more like a major repair. He took one look at the trashed sink, broken faucet, the holes in the wall, the door ripped off the front of a filthy fridge. And that was just the beginning.

The question was, how much did he tell her? Aunt Ruth had become more frail after his uncle’s death. “The repairs are well under way.”

“There’s no grass growing under your feet, Sam Gardner. No, I can always count on you.” She sounded so proud of him. “I admire a hardworking man. You are something special.”

“Nope, just bored.” He blushed, because her affection embarrassed him. Because he didn’t feel special at all. He had a lot of hard lessons and proof to the contrary. “The truth is, I agreed to move here and help you out so I had something to do. Flying around the world was getting too dull. Been there, done that.”

“I learned long ago not to believe you, Samuel James Gardner. Beneath that crusty manner of yours is a soft heart gooier than melted chocolate. Which reminds me, thanks for running to the grocery store for me. I found the surprise you bought along with the groceries. You are a dear, precious boy.”