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

blinked hard, staring deep into the water churning and swirling around the boat’s iron hull. No one could possibly know the depth of her grief. Or her guilt. Some nights she woke up with a loss too wide to fill. Prayer hadn’t closed it. Not thousands of prayers.
    “Sometimes,” she told him, “people aren’t what you think.”
    “No. Sometimes they are a good deal more.”
    Sam liked her. He really did. Kirby was beautiful, not in a stunning-supermodel way. Not in an every-hair-in-place, makeup-done-just-so kind of way.
    No, her beauty was subtle, the way the dawn came in the far north. So quiet, you had to listen and watch for it. But when it came, the unassuming light glowed like grace over a frozen world. It made a man’s heart fill and brim over.
    And she didn’t seem to know that’s what she was. That’s what she did to him.
    She swept stray locks of hair out of her eyes with a slender hand. He remembered the gentleness she’d shown to little Sarah. Kirby’s sensitive healing hands had taken care of so many sick and dying.
    And she had her own hardships, her own losses. He’d misjudged her. Underestimated her. What strength she had. What kindness.
    He hadn’t resisted the sudden urge to take her fingers in his. Smaller and more fragile, her hand fit in his palm.
    She was as soft as spring rain, that sweet drizzle that made the leaves bud and the grass grow and the flowers dare to bloom. When he touched her, that’s how she affected him. As if there was hope for him. For the permanent winter in his soul.
    And he knew better.
    That’s why he placed her hand gently on the rail and turned away, strangely aching, and searched the waters for those elusive dolphins.
    He did not touch her again.
    As the girl behind the cash register handed her a pastry and a steaming tall raspberry mocha with whipped cream in a pretty paper cup, Kirby had to wonder. Had she done or said something to upset Sam?
    After paying for their food, he turned and walked away from her without a single word. Not “I’ll find us a table” or “That muffin sure looks good.” Nothing polite or casual.
    He’d joked with her this morning and during the first part of the ferry ride, but now he was distant and silent. Had she offended him in some way?
    Maybe she ought to add this to her list of desirable characteristics: does not act in a confusing manner.
    Kirby balanced the big cup of coffee and her enormous croissant on a pretty stoneware plate and followed Sam. He was already seated, his coat slung over the back of the empty chair beside him, head bowed as he muttered a silent grace. Then he gathered the croissant egg-and-cheese sandwich with both hands and bit into it like a starving man.
    She stared at him. She hadn’t imagined it. He’d said grace. He was a man of faith?
    “Sorry, I should have waited,” he apologized when she joined him, “but I’m half-dead with hunger. Ready to drop at any minute. You’d have to administer a coffee IV straight into my arm to revive me.”
    “Don’t rely on me. I’m just as hungry and exhausted as you are. I’m ready to fall face first onto my plate.”
    “You look about as beat as I feel.”
    “I think the adrenaline is wearing off.” She bowed her head, uttered a brief grace and reached for her double mocha. Espresso slid over her tongue and down her throat. Yep, that was just what she needed.
    “If heaven has a bakery, then this one is it,” he said between bites. “It’s good to know there will be pastry in the afterlife.”
    Kirby took a bite of her cheese croissant. Buttery flakes fell apart on her tongue, crepe thin and sheer perfection. As exquisite as the food was, she was more drawn to the man across the table.
    A man of faith? She could see it in him. There was a serious side to this man who liked to make her laugh. A very serious side.
    “The view is heavenly, too,” he said as he dug in to his second croissant sandwich.
    Kirby’s tension drained away at the soft