Jillian Hart - The Sweetest Gift

Was Sam Gardner talking about himself, too? “Yes, but good looks can only take a guy so far.”

“That’s a matter of opinion.” He braced his hands on his hips, a fighting stance, broadening his shoulders, drawing tight his chest muscles.

He looked as invincible as steel, but there was a tenderness in him, a kindness that shone in the chocolate warmth of his eyes, that gleamed like a promise in his deep rumbling voice. “My dog is good-looking and at the top of the food chain. Look at him. Big teeth. Bred for fighting. He’s a trained guard dog.”

“He’s a thief. He helped himself to most of the dog biscuits.”

“I can get you another box. Hold on.”

“I don’t want you to reimburse me with dog treats. I was just—” Okay, so Sam Gardner did meet another criterion. He could make her laugh.

But that didn’t mean he was a good man. For example, he might not be a responsible pet owner. “Didn’t you notice Leo was gone from your yard?”

“One minute I looked out the window and he was fine. But the phone rang and he must have escaped while I was talking to my lady love.”

“You were talking with your aunt, huh?”

“How did you know that?”

“I’m gifted—what can I say?”

“You overheard me through the open windows when you were bringing Leo back.”

“And you heard my dog’s little bark.”

Sam chuckled, low and deep, studying her with a gaze so intent, it was as if he could see her soul, and she shivered, feeling exposed. Way too exposed.

She took a step back, confused, not at all sure she liked this man. He definitely wasn’t anything close to her ideal of Mr. Right.

What she knew for sure was that it was time to leave. “Goodbye, Leo. It was nice meeting you. Come over any time to visit.”

“I’ll be fixing that fence. It’s next on my list,” Sam informed her as she held out her hands and the big dog laid his face in her open palms.

“I’m glad. This is a quiet neighborhood, but there’s always a car now and then that’s driving too fast and isn’t watching for kids or pets.” She knelt, her hair falling all around her face and her shoulders and tumbling down over her nape, to let Leo kiss her chin. “Good dog, good boy.”

Sam’s heart stopped beating. He’d never seen such gentle hands. Slender and fine boned, with long tapered fingers. She looked like kindness personified, and it rocked him to the core—as if he’d taken a direct blow from a grenade launcher.

Leo gazed at her again with adoration, and while Sam wasn’t about to do the same, he could see there was something endearing about her. With her head bent forward, he could see the careful part of her hair—perfect, not a strand out of place.

See? She was just what he thought. The perfect woman with a perfect life looking for the perfect man to marry.

He wanted nothing to do with that.

To make it clear, Sam stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets. He kept them there as Kirby rose like a flower to the sun, straight and elegant and lovely, and smiled at him. Hers was a smile that could melt the polar ice caps with its loveliness. Then she moved away and out of his sight.

The scent of her perfume, something light and floral and sweet, remained.

He was alone. And that was good. His life was fine the way it was.

Leo nudged his knee.

“C’mon, boy, let’s go grab some lunch. Then we’ve got to get busy. We’ve a lot of work ahead of us.”

The dog loped up the back steps, dashed across the porch and into the house. He bounded and hopped impatiently while Sam grabbed his wallet and his keys.

The empty house echoed around him, lonely.

As his life was meant to be.

“Ouch!” Kirby sucked her fingernail, a casualty of trying to open the new box of tea. The wrapping remained untouched, despite her torn and bent nail.

What did they make this stuff out of? Invisible steel? Forget breaking another fingernail over this. She was going for the big guns.

She yanked open the top kitchen drawer and rummaged around in the mess. Where had the scissors gone? The ringing phone interrupted her search.

“Hello, Kirby dear. I just wanted to give you a quick call and let you know that my nephew is moving in next door to you.”

“Hello, Ruth.” Kirby tucked the cordless phone against her shoulder and spotted the scissors in the back of the drawer. “I’ve already met Sam.”

“What did you think?”

Was that excitement in Ruth’s voice? “I think he’s, uh, well, it was interesting to meet him.”

“Oh, my.” The excitement faded into distress. “He wasn’t rude to you, was he? He comes across rather rough sometimes. He’s had a hard life, the poor man.”

She knew Ruth was dying to tell her, but Kirby wasn’t about to ask. It wasn’t her business and she didn’t listen to gossip. She didn’t want to know Sam’s hardships.

That wasn’t true. She was curious. What was the real scoop on that man?

Instead she said, “Sam told me he’s repairing the house for you, too.”

“That’s right—he’s a real hard worker. He’ll do a fine job. I know the kind of first impression he gives, but I promise you he’ll make a fine neighbor. My Sam’s dependable, strong, hardworking and honest. Why, he’s as good as the day is long, and the stories I could tell about him…”

What stories? Kirby wondered, but it wasn’t any of her business. Really. “I’m happy he’ll make a quiet and responsible neighbor. How are you feeling today?”

“Fine, now that my nephew has moved to town to help me out.”

Kirby jabbed the pointed tip of the scissors into the shrink-wrap. The plastic stuff gave way. Finally. “I suppose this means I’ll be seeing more of you, since you’ll be coming to visit Sam.”

“Yes. He’s a great cook. Did you know that?”

“No.” It was sweet, how much Ruth loved her nephew. “You’re proud of him, I can tell. It must mean the world to have him living close.”

“I’ll say! He’s been away, traveling the globe since he graduated from high school, but we’ve kept in touch over the years. I wrote him faithfully every week. And now here he is, taking care of so many troubles for me.”

Sam did look as though he could solve any problem. After she hung up, Kirby rose on her tiptoes and could see him perfectly through her kitchen window. He was in his backyard tossing a huge orange plastic bone. His enormous black dog leaped like a puppy, knocking into shrubs and bounding over flowers as he raced after his toy. Leo loped back with the bone lodged in his powerful jaws and dropped it onto Sam’s waiting hand.

It wasn’t the dog she noticed, but the man. How he rubbed his dog’s head with a strong but kind touch. Sam looked different. With his guard down, he almost appeared good-hearted. As strong as steel, as powerful as a midnight storm, but benevolent.

He’s dependable, strong, hardworking and honest. Those were a few more of her requirements, right there. Kirby wanted a husband she could respect and look up to. Not that Sam Gardner was that man.

What else had Ruth said about him? He’s had a hard life.

What happened to him? Kirby wondered.

“This is the last one.” His distant rumble rose on the breeze blowing through the open window. “One more throw, then we’ve got to fix the fence. Can’t have you running loose, you big menace. It’s bad manners to accost pretty ladies.”

The menace barked in happy agreement, hopping and leaping in anticipation, his attention on the enormous plastic bone. Sam’s laughter and the warm vibration of his voice lifted and fell according to the wind’s whim. There was something vulnerable in him, this big strong man, playing with his dog.

A hard life, huh? She wondered about that as she watched him kneel to rub Leo’s ruff. Then he disappeared into the house, the dog shadowing him.