The Sweetest Gift

“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.”

That settled it. The woman was just too darn gushy. Sam grabbed a Phillips screwdriver from one of his tool bags and opened a sagging cabinet door. What he’d do is fix that bent screw. “Found the bag of Snickers bars, did you? I was trying to bribe you. I want you to like me better than my other cousins.”

“No problem there, as long as you keep bringing me my favorite candy. You are my favorite, boy. Always have been and always will be.”

“You are my favorite, too.” That was about as affectionate as he could stand being. He loved his aunt, but love was tenuous. And he’d believed in love—his mother’s, his wife’s—and seen how easy it was for love to crumble away into hatred.

The bent screw gave and the broken cabinet door handle tumbled into his hand.

“Sounds like you’re hard at work.” Now the worry was there in Ruth’s voice. “The damage to the house isn’t too bad, is it?”

“Not too bad,” he said, because it was only the truth.

The damage wasn’t too bad at all. It was more than bad. It was appalling. The place was trashed. But it wouldn’t be by the time Ruth saw it. He’d fix everything damaged between the roof and the foundation first.

“Oh, I’m so relieved. The Realtor was simply exaggerating about the damages, then. I don’t know what I would do if I had to find the money to repair that house. It was fine enough to inherit a rental property, but it’s been nothing but trouble. Sam, you’re my saving grace in all this. I can’t tell you what it means to have you take care of this for me.”

“For you? You’re the one letting me buy this place. The real estate market around here is pretty tight.”

“Yes, but heaven knows the house has to be in good repair. And clean. I could hire my cleaning woman to come over. She’s quick as a whip and thorough, too.”

The place in Sam’s chest where a whole heart used to be felt constricted. His aunt was a good person, and there weren’t too many of those in this world. “Let’s hold off on a cleaning lady for a while, okay?” A long while. “I’d like to do a few more repairs and then paint the whole place.”

“Oh, of course. Maybe I’d best buy the paint. You go down to the hardware store and put it on my account.”

Although it was generous of Ruth, Sam figured that by the time he was done, he would have charged up an easy ten grand. “Why don’t you let me worry about that? I thought that was our agreement. I fix this up for sweat equity, right? I’ve got it under control.”

“Such a relief, such a dear boy. Say, have you met little Kirby McKaslin next door?”

The memory of his beautiful neighbor flashed through him like sunlight. She was as graceful, as soft and as perfect as the warm spring day. “Yep. I did happen to meet her. I had to go next door and borrow her hose.”

“She’s a cute girl, don’t you think? And as good as gold. Comes from a fine family—”

He knew where this was going. “Don’t even start.”

“Start what? I’m just telling you about your new neighbor. I want you to be friendly to her, since she’s a friend of the family.”

“Friendly? Is that all? I heard a scheme in your voice.”

“You heard no such thing.”

“Call it instinct, then.”

“Instinct? Why, that’s preposterous. I wouldn’t try to fix you up with a nice, pretty young woman—”

“Fix me up, huh?” At least he’d got her to admit it. Sharp, fire-hot pain scorched a sharp point through the center of him, all the way down to his soul. He knew she had no clue what she was doing to him. “I’ve asked you not to fix me up.”

Ruth’s sigh came across the line, not as a whisper of surrender but rather as a gathering of determination. “I know how you feel about women. You’re wrong, and you’re smart enough to figure that out one day. There are plenty of wonderful, kindhearted women in this world—good Christian girls—looking for a strong and decent man like you to love and cherish.”

His chest compressed. His lungs deflated. The pain left his eyes burning.

To love and cherish? No, he’d tried that once and he wouldn’t go there again. He refused to remember another nice Christian girl, the one he’d vowed before God to honor and love for the rest of his life. “Ruth, you’re killin’ me here.”

“Don’t you think it’s time you moved on?”

“I have.” His throat seized up. If he didn’t stop his aunt from going down this path, he’d wind up one big, raw wound, open and bleeding. “I know you mean well, but you’ve got to stop this. I can’t take it.”

“A big strong warrior like you?”

“I’m not a warrior anymore.” The sadness of that battered him, too.

“You’re a fine man, and I’m proud to call you my nephew.” Love shone in her words.

But it wasn’t strong enough to diminish his hopelessness. Or change his mind.

Ruth, protected and gentle hearted, didn’t know what he knew. He’d seen too much as a man, as a soldier, as a husband to believe there was any goodness at all in the world. Any goodness that lasted.

He reassured his aunt about the house so she wouldn’t worry, and ended the call before she could get another word in edgewise about Kirby McKaslin.

How did Ruth think that he’d just be able to trust anyone enough to love again? And why Kirby McKaslin? Her pretty face flickered back into his thoughts like a movie reel stuck on one vibrant, flawless frame, refusing to fade.

Why was he thinking about her? Picturing her in his mind as if he was interested? He wasn’t. A smart man would put all thoughts of her aside and keep his distance from her. Forever.

There was nothing else he could do. He had no heart left.

Since he was a smart man, he didn’t look out the window over the sink, which gave him a view of the side of her house. He blocked all images of her as he dropped the screwdriver into his tool belt and ambled out the door and into the welcome sunshine.

He’d finish replacing the valves in the basement, coil up the hose and return it.

Kirby McKaslin was nice enough. She was his neighbor. He’d have to see her time and again. The casual kind of run-ins that neighbors wound up having. He’d be nice to her, friendly, polite, neighborly.

But that was all.

With his game plan ready, Sam stretched the kinks out of his back. Where was his dog?

“Oh!” A woman’s gasp of surprise tore him out of his quick flash of panic.