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

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The Sweetest Gift (The McKaslin Clan: Series 1 Book 2) Page 17

by Jillian Hart


  And she prayed he felt that way, too.

  Watching Kirby work alongside him made Sam more certain than ever. Kirby McKaslin was one in a million. She’d tended his wounds, bandaged his cuts and splinted his left knee and thigh with merciful care. The gentle ministrations, her healing hands, her loving concern stayed with him even as the storm worsened, the snow thickened and the night grew dangerously cold.

  “I think I have enough dry branches.” Kirby, her hands scratched from the rough work, piled the small brittle limbs in the corner of the shelter.

  He’d managed to saw enough bigger pine branches to make a shelter of sorts from what he’d been able to salvage. The dense foliage would keep them dry. Hypothermia was a real threat as the temperature plummeted.

  “It won’t keep us toasty, but it will keep us from freezing.” He held the branch aside that served as a door, and let her in first. “Get comfortable. I’ve got a few more supplies to fetch, and then we’ll stay in for the night.”

  He’d made them a snug nest of pine and fir branches. And while the cold damp of the earth made her shiver, the small shelter was smartly made.

  Leave it to Sam. Was there anything he couldn’t do? He was remarkable. He didn’t seem aware of it. She took one of the blankets he’d scavenged from the wreckage and wrapped up in it. She was cold, exhausted and shaking. She was in pain.

  Don’t think about it. Sam’s hurt much worse than you are. She could hear him moving outside. What was taking him so long? She worried about him. He might be more hurt than he was saying. She could have lost him tonight, and she wanted him close.

  The long thick limbs rustled as Sam shoved them aside to climb into their snug den. The flashlight strapped overhead shadowed him as he hauled in a duffel bag, a plastic container the size of a shoe box, and a flare gun. “In case we hear rescue planes,” he told her.

  He was covered with snow. His teeth chattered as he closed the entrance behind him. “Are you warm yet?”

  “Toasty.” She shivered, but she smiled.

  “Me, too. I found my bag. I have a pair of sweats we can share. Do you want the bottoms?”

  “Yeah.” They would fit over her jeans. She accepted the soft thick garment and pulled them on over her tennis shoes. “Got anything to eat in there?”

  “Well, I always keep an emergency pack. Let’s see what I’ve got.” He snapped open the plastic lid and handed her a packet of beef jerky. “I’ve got granola bars for breakfast. And an entire pound of chocolate candies.”

  “You put chocolate in your emergency pack?”

  “A day without chocolate is an emergency.” Sam stole a stick of jerky from the package she held. “I’ve got soda, too. We’ll have enough to last. Now, bundle up.”

  “Do you know how amazing you are?” She couldn’t help it. She couldn’t keep her feelings hidden any longer. And why should she? Life was too short. Too much of a gift. “You can handle anything, can’t you?”

  “I have my faults, like anyone else.” He took a bite of jerky and chewed while he handed her a small silver package. It unfolded into a thermal survival blanket.

  Perfect. Sam could do anything. Kirby’s regard for him felt as high as heaven and as infinite.

  “Come closer. We have to keep you warm.” He took her hand and helped cover her with the blanket before he unfolded his own.

  With her body heat trapped by the blanket Kirby began feeling less frozen.

  “Feel good?” He moved closer and placed his hand on her back. He began to stroke in slow, even caresses that made her hurting spine sing with relief.

  Good? She felt fantastic. Well, she was cold and a dull pain was settling into her middle and her head was killing her, but she had Sam. Precious, wonderful Sam. “We should have died tonight. You know that.”

  “I know. Like I said, the grace of God.”

  “Yes.” She traced the strong, confident angle of his nose with her fingertips. The sparse cut of his lips. The indomitable cut of his jaw. Tenderness filled her, as warm and as sweet as honey, and she pressed a kiss to his cheek.

  “Do you know how much I love you?” she said. Just like that, with her heart racing and her fingers trembling and everything at risk.

  His eyes widened. Probably with fear.

  “Oh, I know what you said tonight. And I know why you said it.” She wasn’t going to back down. “You don’t want to remarry. You don’t want to risk loving anyone again. I understand that. But you could have died tonight. And if you had, then you would have left this earth without knowing how deeply I love you.”

  “Kirby, look, I can’t let you—”

  “No, I could have died tonight without telling you how I feel. I need to say this. You are the one man I never thought I’d find. The love I never thought I could deserve. You move my soul like nothing else, and I love you deeply and truly, more than anything on this earth. And I always will.”

  He closed his eyes. Covered his face with his hands. Rested his elbows on his knees. He looked tortured.

  She placed her hand at his nape, at the wide strong column of his neck. She could feel the warm life of him, the give of flesh and muscle and the hard column of his vertebrae. He was so strong.

  And as fragile, just like anyone.

  “Nothing will ever change how I love you. Even if you don’t want me. I’m not like Carla. My feelings for you are real and unbreakable. You could have died tonight without knowing how deeply you are loved.”

  “Shhh…” He couldn’t take any more. He pulled away, feeling as if she’d reached through his ribs and pulled out his heart, his soul. There was nothing left inside him.

  “You don’t know what you’re saying.” It couldn’t be true. He wouldn’t let it be.

  “Yes, I do. I’m not the dimmest bulb in the pack.”

  It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. When a woman as good and as incredible as Kirby said words like that to him, she probably had a concussion, because she couldn’t mean it. Or maybe it was the situation, the emotion of surviving a second crash, being grateful she was alive, and clinging to him. It was the situation. That’s what it was.

  Her arms came around him from behind, and she laid her cheek against his shoulder blade. Her touch was a love he’d never felt before.

  It did match his love for her. Bright. Rare. Terrifying.

  How could someone so good be meant for him? He’d been lost for so long, and given up on the hope that there could be happiness for him. Happiness of any kind. So he’d settled for contentment, as lonely as that was.

  How did he explain to Kirby that she had to be wrong? That happily-ever-afters were not his experience in life. That he’d learned the hard way that if it looked too good to be true, it was.

  No matter how much he wanted it. He turned, slanted his lips over hers and kissed her tenderly. He broke away, knowing he would just end up hurting her. But what other choice did he have? He loved her with a fierceness that felt like pain. Needed her with every drop of his being.

  But how could he reach out for a dream? Dreams were only that, illusion and fantasy. He didn’t want to survive another fall.

  The whop-whop of chopper blades had him grabbing the flare gun and diving through the side of the shelter. It was too much to hope it was someone for them. When the bird circled, Sam ran full out, ignoring the pain and the femur he figured was cracked, and made it to the edge of a small clearing. Careful to aim, he pulled the trigger and the flare lit up like a beacon.

  They were going home.

  But to what? Sam watched Kirby limp toward him, haloed by the glow of the red flare on the falling snow. She was ashen, walking slowly, fighting pain.

  She’s hurt worse than she knows, he realized. Worse than he’d thought. She wrapped her arms around her middle, as if doing her best to keep standing. “Did they see us?”

  As an answer, the chopper circled wide.

  Kirby dropped to her knees. He caught her before she hit the hard-packed snow. The chopper was landing, but
all he saw was Kirby. Fighting to stay conscious.

  “I’m okay. Really,” she insisted, struggling to lift her head from his shoulder.

  “Lie still. Shhh.” He kissed her brow, holding her tight, a precious weight in his arms. The Lord wouldn’t take her from him now, would He?

  “Sam!” John Corey, the town’s fire chief, reached him first. “Didn’t think we’d find you alive. What a godsend. Is she—”

  Sam nodded. “She’s going into shock. You got an EMT with you?”

  “Let’s get her in.” John and a man who looked way too young to know what he was doing lifted Kirby from Sam’s arms.

  He had to let her go. He trusted them. He knew she needed them. But he wanted to be the one who held her safe and forever.

  John carried her away and into the chopper.

  “What about you?” another rescue worker asked.

  “Forget about me. She’s all that matters.”

  What had she said to him? You move my soul like nothing else, and I love you deeply and truly, more than anything on this earth. And I always will.

  That’s how he loved her, too. A flawless love that would never end.

  What if he lost her? What if he never had the chance to tell her that he’d found his heart after all?

  And it was her.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sam elbowed open the door to the gift shop with his free hand. Careful of the vase he carried and his left leg’s lightweight cast, he hiked through the hospital lobby and took a ride in the elevator to the fifth floor, silently cursing the closemouthed nursing staff as he went.

  She’s stable, was all they would tell him.

  After they’d flown in on the chopper, he’d sat in the waiting area because they made him. There was no room for him while they worked on Kirby. Didn’t that make him imagine the worst? She went into surgery to pin a fracture in her lower leg.

  Was she awake? In pain? How badly was she hurt? Did she need him? He’d sat there, scared to death, until Jeremiah had hauled him into a treatment room and forced him to have his injuries X-rayed. The doc wouldn’t tell him more because Sam wasn’t family. Determined to fix that little problem, Sam had left the hospital for a quick errand. Now with a package in his pocket and flowers in hand, he was going to find her and no one was going to stop him.

  Sam slowed down when he caught sight of the waiting area on the fifth floor. It was packed with people of different ages, some pale with worry, others talking to fill the silence. The tense worry was palpable as he came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the corridor.

  The McKaslins. He recognized several of the sisters as the ones who played Monopoly with Kirby. There were others who had to be cousins, older folks who were parents and uncles and grandparents. An entire family come together.

  This wasn’t in his game plan. He hadn’t figured the whole of the McKaslin clan would rally around Kirby. He’d been shortsighted. He hadn’t considered what having a real family meant. Kirby had everyone she needed and loved.

  Did she need him?

  He was nothing but a banged-up chopper pilot, a veteran with a few medals and too many bad memories that troubled him now and then. He had his failures and his flaws, and that made him all wrong for Kirby.

  His hopes sank as he studied the family gathered together. All the well-dressed, perfect and proper folks, who might not consider him the right choice for their golden Kirby.

  The question was, did he retreat or did he fight?

  Sam Gardner was no coward. There wasn’t a battle he hadn’t won. He fought to win. And from the moment he’d felt the explosion of the crash and figured he was dead, he’d known beyond a doubt how deep and strong his love went.

  To the bottom of his soul. He loved Kirby with all the depth of his being.

  “Sam? There you are.” The doc—Jeremiah—approached in a white coat, glancing over his shoulder at the McKaslin clan. “Kirby’s asking for you.”

  That had to be good news, right? Determination renewed him. Turned him into steel as he followed the doc down the hall. She wanted him. That was all he needed to know.

  “They called in another flight out of Great Falls. The last I heard little Sarah was safely en route. The procedure’s going to save her life.” Jeremiah stopped. “This is Kirby’s room. You know, it’s a miracle you two survived.”

  “Miracles happen every day, Doc.” Sam believed it. A miracle had happened to him. And she was in that room.

  Why was he so nervous? Because it wasn’t every day a man had his greatest prayer answered.

  Well, he couldn’t stand in the hall all day. He might as well get it over with. Walk in there and tell her how he felt. He was a man. He had a reasonable command of the English language. There was nothing stopping him.

  He pushed open the door.

  She knew it was him. She didn’t have to open her eyes. The halting limp padding across the room was different, but the authoritative power of it was pure Sam. He filled the room with his strength. He filled her heart with an unquenchable light.

  “Look who I’ve got here.” The scent of roses filled the air and his footsteps stopped beside her. His fingertips grazed the curve of her face. “Sleeping Beauty. If I kiss her, will she wake?”

  His breath was a warm tickle against her cheek. His kiss felt like eternity, like reverence. She opened her eyes. How good it was to see him towering over her, alive and banged up—but he looked whole. Too good to be true.

  Thank You, Father. The Lord had woken her up. The need she felt for Sam came not out of neglect and pain from her past, but out of the newly born places in her soul. Places that had not been alive until Sam knelt at her side and took her hand.

  “My very own princess.” He swept the bangs out of her eyes, his fingers quaking, his eyes bright with love. “For a while there, I didn’t think we’d wind up happily-ever-after.”

  “You don’t believe in happy endings.”

  “Oh, baby, I do. They’re rare. Rare and precious, just like you.”

  Kirby blinked. The painkillers were making her woozy. Had she heard him right? Had Sam, who’d said he’d never remarry, who was too wounded to try to love again, had he just said—

  Her thoughts skidded to a stop at the sight of the black velvet box in the palm of his trembling hand. A ring box. Sam had bought her a ring? Did that mean he wanted her? That he loved her? That this man so good and honorable loved her? Any way. Just the way she was.

  “I told you I’d lost my heart.” His free hand caught her chin. His gaze pinned hers and she could see into his soul. Into his endless love for her. “I found it. There’s a question I’ve gotta ask you.”

  He opened the lid. A two-carat diamond sparkled happily on its bed of black velvet. A solitary diamond in a heart cut. The gem glittered with bright prisms of light.

  Like the love inside her.

  “I love you more than words can say.” He lifted the ring from its nest and took her hand. Her left hand. “I can only pray you feel the same way about me. Will you marry me?”

  “It would be my honor.”

  Sam had never heard more beautiful words. He slid the band of gold down the length of her ring finger, so perfect, just like the rest of her. She was his everything. The woman he’d thought he’d never find. For all his hardship and loss in this world, he’d been given back peace and love in greater measure. And it was her.

  It was his Kirby.

  He’d love her forever. He’d be faithful until his dying day. He would cherish her with every fiber of his being. And she knew it, he realized as he rubbed a tear from her cheek. The warm wetness skidded across the pad of his thumb, followed by more.

  “I love you so much,” she confessed.

  “I love you too, baby.”

  He enveloped her in a sweet, tender kiss and Kirby felt ready to break apart with happiness. He crawled in beside her and cradled her carefully against his chest. His arms banded her like steel.

  This strong, protective, good
-hearted man was all hers forever and ever. Her soul mate. Her most precious gift. The Lord’s blessings were sweet, Kirby discovered, and the greatest of them was love.

  Epilogue

  Two months later

  “The bride looks like she could use a cold drink.” Michelle stepped around the corner of the espresso machine set up on the roomy back porch and held out an iced mocha with extra whipped cream. “Just as you like it.”

  “You’re a lifesaver. Thanks.” Kirby shifted the veil—it kept tumbling over her shoulder and getting in the way—and took a deep gulp of the icy drink. When she’d hoped for a beautiful July day for her wedding, she hadn’t known the angels had taken her wish to heart.

  Where had Sam gone? He’d been caught in a huddle with her cousin, her uncles and her grandfather discussing their military experiences. But she didn’t see him in the backyard, where tables had been set up around the gazebo Sam had built for her. Where they’d married beneath an arbor of climbing roses.

  “It was a beautiful ceremony, dear.” Ruth sidled close to select several mints from the candy dish. “And the cake was delicious. I must say, it’s good to see Sam happy again. I prayed this day would come.”

  “The Lord is gracious,” Kirby said, and gave her new aunt a hug. “I’m so glad you’ve decided to move in next door to us.”

  “I was surprised Sam offered. The big house was getting too much for me, and I’m getting older. It will be a comfort to know you kids are right next door, if I should be in need. What a blessing you are, my dear. Now, you go find that husband of yours. I think he was looking for you.”

  “Where did you see him?”

  “In the kitchen with the dogs. Goodness knows where he is now.”

  Kirby slipped past her mom and her gramma, who tried to hail her down to talk. She’d get back to them. She tingled with the need to see her husband. They’d been married only one hour and ten minutes, but she knew their life together was going to be a joy. How could it not be? She’d married her one true love.

 

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