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

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
    T he 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