by Jillian Hart
She drove home to the ranch, where growing wheat had turned the fields a lush emerald green. Mom had made a roast, and Karen brought the rest. Scalloped potatoes and baked beans and rolls and a salad. Gramma brought a double batch of her beloved chocolate chocolate-chip cookies.
For years, family gatherings hadn’t been the same. Allison would be forever missing. Her pictures still hung on the wall, the yearly school pictures from kindergarten to graduation. Kirby was glad to get home, where the loss didn’t seem so huge. Or her failures. They said God never gave a person more than she could handle. Sometimes Kirby questioned that.
Being home only made her wonder about Sam. His house was a constant reminder. It was hard not to notice it through her windows as she dusted and vacuumed. Harder still when she headed outside to weed her flower beds. Jessie ran around the backyard, tailing butterflies that flew just out of her reach or trying to befriend the squirrels that lived in the trees and stared curiously down at her.
The hum of an engine and the hush of tires on concrete rose over the fence. Sam was back from his aunt’s. She straightened to give her back a rest. The engine died and the truck door rasped open.
“Out, Leo. C’mon.” Sam’s deep chuckle sounded over the thud of the big dog landing on the concrete drive. The door slammed, and master and dog headed inside and stayed there.
All afternoon she thought of the man next door and remembered his sorrow.
As she was lifting the take-and-bake pizza from the oven, she heard a familiar rap on her front door. Jessie raced through the house, barking in heartfelt greeting. The door squeaked open. Which sister had arrived first?
“Hello, little one.” Karen. So she had made it. Now that she was married and expecting, she didn’t have quite so much time to spend with her sisters. But that was understandable.
The hinges squeaked again as another sister walked in. This one didn’t knock, so it could only be her littlest sister. Michelle tapped through the house in her latest shoe purchase and dumped two six-packs of soda on the counter.
“Perfect timing.” Kirby rolled the pizza cutter through the gooey cheese and doughy crust. “You’ve got that look on your face. What’s up with you?”
“I can’t wait a second more. I’ve got to know.” Michelle abandoned her purse and keys and leaned on tiptoe to get the best view of Sam’s backyard through the window over the kitchen sink.
“What are you doing?”
“I’ve heard all the gossip down at the Snip & Style. But gossip isn’t reliable. Nobody has actually met him. But you, sister dear, had to have at least said howdy to your handsome neighbor.”
Kirby circled around her sister, who was blocking the path to the dishwasher, and nudged her aside so she could open the door and drop the utensil inside. “I’ve said hi to him.”
“Hi? It’s gotta be more than that. Someone flew with him to Seattle.”
Kirby put the soda in the refrigerator to stay cold. “Sam’s my neighbor, nothing more.”
“Then can I have him?” Michelle was young and impressionable enough to believe true love could be around every corner and saw no shame in openly looking for it.
“Help yourself, but he’s probably not your type.”
“Oh, it’s like that, is it?” Karen asked as she opened the cupboards. “You have your eye on him.”
“No. He’s not my type, either, I think.” Unless she wanted to marry a good-hearted successful hero of a man who was kind and funny and intelligent. “Besides, I know for a fact he’s not looking for a relationship.”
“Ooh! You got shot down.” Michelle’s eyes widened, and she snapped around, determined to know all. “Was it during the flight to Seattle, or back? Did you two have a chance to talk? Did he kiss you?”
Kirby thought of Sam’s firm mouth on hers, and knew his kiss would be incredible. But she had no chance of ever knowing, since he’d made it clear he wasn’t looking for a wife. “We’re neighbors, nothing more.”
“That’s wise.” Kendra walked into the conversation with a Tupperware tub of Gramma’s cookies and the Monopoly box. “It takes a long time to get to know a person, and when you’re considering a serious relationship with someone, you need to be careful.”
“He looks really nice.” Michelle was back at the window. “Ooh, there he is now. What a hunk. He must work out to be in that great shape.”
“I wouldn’t know.” Kirby joined in as she set the table.
“Why don’t you run next door and invite him over? We all could just sneak back out the way we came. You’ve got pizza and soda. Men like pizza and soda.”
“Michelle, stop! Sam is nice, but he’s not the one meant for me.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because I am.” Was this how it was going to be all evening? With her sisters trying to pressure her over a man who wouldn’t want her?
Kendra opened the box and started setting up. “Don’t worry, Kirby, I’m on your side. Love takes time. Or it should. You can’t get carried away by emotions and the whirlwind of first love. You have to make sure he’s the right man for you.”
Kirby’s throat tightened, because she knew that not all men were what they seemed. No one knew that more than Kendra. “I feel safe with him. He’s strong, but he’s protective.”
“Ooh, nice.” Michelle changed windows so she could keep watching Sam in the backyard with his dog. “The right man is out there somewhere. He sure looks like the right man. Does he like you, Kirby? You know, does he give you ‘the look’?”
“No, he doesn’t.” And for a good reason. Kirby didn’t feel right revealing Sam’s secrets, and that’s all she said as she headed to the stove. “Michelle, you go first.”
“All right, all right.” Michelle abandoned her view out the window and grabbed a plate. “I think Kirby’s sweet on her hunky pilot next door. What do you think, Kendra?”
“I think she’s wise taking it slow.”
“Thank you, sis.”
“I say, take your time,” Karen added as she filled glasses with ice. “If it’s true love, then it will happen the way it’s meant to. God has a way of seeing to that.”
“What are you saying to do? Wait around and see what happens?” Michelle complained as she filled her plate with pizza. “Oh, c’mon. Kirby, you’re almost thirty and still single. After thirty, isn’t it like really hard to find a husband? All the good ones are already married.”
“Believe what you want. I say a good man is hard to find at any age.” Kendra paused as she counted out the Monopoly money. “The real question is, what kind of man is Sam at heart? Down deep, to the soul?”
Exactly what I was wondering, Kirby thought. Sam was rough around the edges and bold and definitely not what she would have pictured as the perfect man. But she could feel his heart.
He didn’t feel the same way about her. He didn’t feel her heart. It was as simple as that.
They were neighbors. They were friendly. They each had their separate paths in life.
That was simply the way it was.
“All right, get your pizza. We’ve got a game to play.” Michelle headed for the table. “Karen, it’s your turn to roll first. Which token did you want?”
There was no more time to wonder about Sam Gardner. Besides, the issue was settled. He was not her Mr. Right.
More sad than she wanted to admit, Kirby grabbed four sodas from the fridge and joined her sisters at the table where girl talk, good food and their favorite board game awaited.
The constant tap of the rain was a companion that at least kept the silence at bay.
In the year and a half since Carla’s death, he’d first hated the loneliness. He’d been grieving her, and being alone in their house had been horrible. He’d asked for more work and had hired a real estate agent to sell the house.
Time had healed a lot of the sorrow, so now when he was alone he appreciated the silence. Appreciated the peace and quiet.
Carla had been a desperately unha
ppy person beneath the soft smiles and sweet face. When life put hardships in her way, there had been no steel in her. Only anger that God wasn’t listening to her prayers. She was a good Christian. Why didn’t she have a better house, a new car and a better husband?
He’d done his best, but in the end he’d learned you can’t make another person happy. No matter how hard you try, how much you bend. He loved Carla. He gave her everything he had. It hadn’t been enough for her.
It had taken time and his pastor’s wise advice for him to realize that he’d been good to her. She’d been his wife, and he’d cherished her even when she was difficult and angry. But her unhappiness came from inside her. In the end there was nothing he could do to help her. Or to save her.
And so he’d appreciated the tranquillity of a quiet evening by himself. Without her constant criticism or her complaining or her angry comments. There was nothing poking at him, tearing at him. There was just him and Leo, and peace.
Until tonight.
Sam opened the back door and whistled, and the dog bounded through the rain, skidded on the wet back deck and careened into the house. Sam shut the door just in time to get sprayed by rainwater as Leo planted himself on all fours and shook.
“Hey, quit that.” Laughing, Sam grabbed a box of treats from the top shelf. “Sit. Good boy.”
He tossed the jumbo-sized dog biscuit into the air and Leo leaped, retrieved it and ran off to crunch on his treat in private.
Sam took his tools downstairs. He’d had a productive afternoon and evening. He’d patched the many holes in every room, and in a few days he’d be able to sand and prep to paint. It was a good feeling. The house was going to look sharp when he was finished.
Once his tools were tucked away in the workroom, he started locking up. He pulled the blind on the back door’s window on the way through the kitchen. Then when he went to tug the sheet into place over the kitchen window—he needed to replace that window before he installed a shade—he naturally looked outside to the square of light shining so brightly.
Kirby’s kitchen window. There she was with her back to him, seated at the round table in the kitchen with three other women, who looked remarkably like her. They had to be sisters. The same golden-blond hair, the same slope of nose and chin.
Playing Monopoly. Talking and laughing. There was a bowl of popcorn between them and soda cans at each woman’s elbow. One sister rolled the dice and reached across the table to move her token.
Kirby and the other sisters exchanged looks of agony while one sister shot her fist into the air. Sam watched transfixed as Kirby counted out her play money and handed it over to the winning sister.
Too good to be true? If this wasn’t proof enough, what would be? On a Sunday night, after a weekend of volunteering on a medical flight to save a critically ill child and going to church, Kirby McKaslin wasn’t out partying or socializing or doing anything nefarious.
No, she was playing a board game with her sisters. He wouldn’t be surprised if this is how she spent every Sunday night.
How much had he changed over the years, he wondered? That he could look a good person in the face and no longer see it? No longer believe it?
He felt tarnished and unworthy and weary. And wrong.
Ashamed, he drew the makeshift curtain into place and flicked out the light. Walked through the dark living room, the fire now only a faint glow of embers in the fireplace, to his room. He read much of the night, so he didn’t have to think of Kirby.
Chapter Seven
The coffee shop was busy when Kirby dropped by on her way to the hospital. She was working swing tonight. While she was grateful for the work and the paycheck, she’d be glad when her new job started. Only a few more days now.
“Do you need some help?” Kirby asked her sister, who was two customers deep and working fast behind the industrial-sized espresso machine.
“No, I’ve got it. Go sit down and I’ll bring you a mocha.”
“You’re a doll. Thanks.” Kirby gratefully sank into a chair in the corner and let the sunshine warm her.
“You look troubled,” Karen said a few minutes later after the minirush of customers had been cared for. She set two drinks on the cloth-covered table. A double mocha with extra chocolate sprinkles. And a glass of lemonade.
Kirby took a long pull of the hot, wonderful coffee. That’s what she needed. Caffeine and comfort all rolled into one. “How are you two holding up?”
“We’re great.” Karen’s left hand covered her growing stomach, the diamonds in her rings sparkling happily in the sunlight. Her touch to her belly was one of love for the little one due in only three months. “Tired, and my feet are killing me, and she’s kicking me pretty hard. But those are little things. I have so much to be grateful for. A healthy baby and a wonderful husband.”
“And a new house. How’s the unpacking going?”
“Slow, but sure. Zach’s got his workshop all unpacked and set up, and me? I’ve hardly done anything. This morning I had to hunt around in the boxes stacked in the garage for the box of extra towels. What can I say? It’s been an adventure.”
An adventure. She’d never quite thought of marriage as that before. Of the journey of it. It had always meant to her the end of a long road of looking for the right man to marry. “You look happy.”
“I am.” Karen glowed from deep inside and it showed in her smile, in her eyes, in her voice. In the contentment that seemed to radiate from her like light from the sun.
“How have you done it?” Kirby opened her devotional to keep her hands busy. She hated talking about what had happened that day they lost their sister. “How have you found peace?”
“I only had to grieve her loss. I wasn’t the one who almost died with her.”
Kirby squeezed her eyes shut, as if to keep the hurt from welling up and spilling over. “I wasn’t that hurt.”
“I was there at the hospital, remember? Gramma and I sat by your bedside and refused to move.”
I remember. Kirby wished she could wipe away the memory and the pain from her soul with a prayer, but it wasn’t that simple. She’d prayed. She’d talked with her minister. Everyone had said to let it go, give it to God, trust Him to see her through.
And she had. But the guilt remained. The guilt that she had lived. That she was here alive and well, when her sister wasn’t. How did she let go of the guilt? “Sunday nights will never be the same without Allison.”
“I know, but we have each other. We love each other, and we still love Allison. That doesn’t have to change. You don’t have to be afraid.”
Kirby’s eyes flew open. How did Karen know? “I’m not afraid.”
“We all are. Life is a journey, with ups and down, good experiences and bad. That’s the way it is. But the Lord is always with us.” Karen reached out to brush Kirby’s bangs out of her eyes. “Did I tell you Zach and I settled on a name for the baby? We’re going to call her Allison.”
“Good choice.” Kirby’s eyes burned, and she blinked hard. “Our sister would be glad.”
“Glad? She’s probably signing up to be her guardian angel as we speak.” Karen’s gentle chuckle was a good sound. A hopeful one. “We’re not alone, Kirby. You’re not alone.”
She ran her fingertips over the embossed title of her devotional. “I know.”
“I hate to see you so unhappy. I think you ought to stop working so hard. Now that you’re finished with your master’s, you need to schedule in some fun time. Maybe some dating time?”
“I’m not going to date Sam Gardner. Stop. I thought you were on my side. Don’t turn into Michelle on me.”
“I am on your side. Always.” The bell above the door jangled as more customers crowded in from the blustery May day. “Oops. Gotta go.”
Kirby sipped her coffee, opened her devotional and flipped to the bookmarked page. Karen’s words lingered. And so did her message. She’d never understood why bad things happened. She used to think if she tried to be a good enough Chr
istian, then she would be protected from the bad things that seemed to happen to other people.
And then the accident had happened to her. Sometimes hardship happened. And where did that leave her?
Struggling.
She laid her devotional on the table, and a folded piece of notepaper caught her eye. That paper sure looked familiar. It was the lavender stationery with the flowers and cross she liked so well. And at the bottom in embossed gold, “We live by faith and not by sight.”
Across the top she’d scrawled in glittery purple gel pen, “My One True Love.”
It was her list for the perfect man. She’d written it last winter, when she’d picked up the devotional at the bookstore. It had been right before Christmas and she’d been making Christmas and birthday lists, since her birthday was in December. Why not make up a list for what she truly wanted? she’d rationalized at the time.
“A faithful man. Handsome. Kind. Handsome. Has a great job. Handsome.”
Had she really written that? She blushed, embarrassed. Looks were important, but she’d made it sound as if it was the most important part. Pleasing looking, that would be better, she decided, and dug a pen out of her purse. She crossed out all those handsomes.
That left only three more attributes. “Honest. Loves animals and children. Will love me, anyway.”
Where was she going to find a man like that?
As if the angels had heard her and tapped her on the shoulder, she looked up and there he was on the street outside. Climbing out of his pickup and tugging his baseball cap lower to shade his eyes from the bright sun.
Leo bounded out of the truck, too. Obedient and well trained when he wanted to be, the big dog stuck to Sam’s side as they made their way along the sidewalk and disappeared into Corey’s Hardware.
Sam. Her heart rose until she felt as if her entire being were floating somewhere near the ceiling. And how was that possible, when she was clearly sitting very firmly in the chair? How could one man affect her so much? And why?
