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Everyday Blessings
Jillian Hart
When Aubrey McKaslin visited reclusive photographer William Corey, she found a man who had given up on life and faith. He said he was happy at his mountain retreat, but Aubrey didn't believe it for a minute.His eyes signaled a kindred soul, a man who shared her love of art and the outdoors. Spending time together awakened deeper feelings in them both, but could William trust in his faith and rise above his past?
Perfect. That’s what she was.
William struggled with the emotion in his chest. Never had he seen so clearly. The graceful way Aubrey smoothed a fingertip over a fragile velvet petal. She was sweetness itself. Feeling flooded him.
She glowed with happiness as she headed his way. “I’ve been wanting to do more rain chimes, with the fall rains a few months away. This will be perfect.”
“Rain chimes? Never heard of them.”
“You’ll get the first one for the season. They’re like wind chimes, but instead of wind, they catch the rain and chime.”
He could see the way she took the ordinary and made it a little lovelier. They had that in common, the appreciation of what was right in front of them. She broke down his reserve and he felt revealed as the warm mountain breeze swept over him. Aubrey came close, but he didn’t move away.
JILLIAN HART
makes her home in Washington State, where she has lived most of her life. When Jillian is not hard at work on her next story, she loves to read, go to lunch with her friends and spend quiet evenings with her family.
Everyday Blessings
Jillian Hart
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Put on a heart of compassion.
—Colossians 3:12
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
Letter to Reader
Questions for Discussion
Chapter One
Aubrey McKaslin didn’t know if she was coming or going. All she knew was that her eighteen-month-old niece was crying in agony, holding her fists to her ears. The little girl’s cries echoed in the coved ceiling of the dining nook of her stepsister Danielle’s home. To top it off, her almost five-year-old nephew Tyler was refusing to eat his dinner.
She was running on four hours’ sleep at the end of a difficult day that came at the end of a very bad week, and she was at her wit’s end. And she wasn’t the only one. Tyler, always a good and dependable boy, gave his plate a push away from him at the table and shot her a mulish glare.
“I want Mommy. I don’t want Mexi-fries!” He choked back a sob, his eyes full of pain. “I want my d-daddy. I want him to come h-home.”
“I know, but he can’t come, pumpkin. He’s still in the hospital.” Aubrey ran a loving hand over his tousled head. “You know he would be here with you if he could.”
“But why?”
“Because he’s sick, honey.” Aubrey’s heart broke as she bounced the weepy little girl on her hip, to comfort her. With her free hand, she knelt to brush her fingertips down the little boy’s nose. It usually made him smile, but not this evening. No, it had been a rough day for all of them.
On days like this, she wanted to know why so many hardships. She’d take it to the Lord in prayer, but she knew that life was like this, sometimes difficult, sometimes beyond understanding. All she could do was make the best of such an awful day.
“But why’s he sick?” Fat tears glistened in Tyler’s sorrowful eyes. “Why?”
Tyler’s dad, Jonas, wasn’t sick. He’d slipped into a degenerating coma, as the doctor had told them this afternoon. Jonas was a state trooper who’d been shot ten days ago when he’d stopped a speeder, who apparently had an outstanding warrant for his arrest and didn’t want to be caught. The man was still at large.
“When I’m sick, I hafta stay in bed or quiet on the couch.” The boy’s soulful eyes were filled with such innocence. “Daddy can, too?”
How could she explain this to him so he’d understand? Aubrey was at a loss. She loved her nephew; in the end, that’s all she could do for him. Love him through his pain. “Your daddy is so sick he has to stay at the hospital.”
“N-no?” Tyler choked on a sob. “I w-want my da-daddy. He’s gotta have M-Mexi-fries.”
So, that’s what this was about. She’d picked up fast-food Mexican meals on her way here to take turns sitting with the kids. Aubrey knew now why Tyler was so upset. It was a standing jest in the family that Mexi-fries, which were seasoned, deep-fried Tater Tots from a local taco place, could solve a host of problems. Being sick was one of them. “How about I ask your aunt Ava to take care of that? Will that make you feel better?”
“Y-yes.” Tyler was sobbing so hard he choked.
Poor little boy. Aubrey’s heart broke all over again for him as she wrapped her free arm around him. He clung to her, crying as hard as the baby in her other arm. How their mother handled this on a daily basis, Aubrey didn’t know. Talk about a tough job.
But an important one. A job she’d given up hope on ever having as her own considering the way her life was going. She pressed a kiss to Tyler’s temple. “Are you feeling better now?”
“Y-yeah.” He hiccupped and let go to rub his tears away with his fists. “I’m a big boy.”
“Yes, you are. A very big boy. You’re doing a terrific job, champ.”
“Y-yeah.” He gave a sniff and stared at his plate. “Do I gotta eat the Mexi-fries?”
“Try to eat something, okay?” She rubbed her free hand over Madison’s soft, downy head. The antibiotics she’d picked up earlier hadn’t kicked in yet, or at least not enough, and she was still in misery. “I’m going to try rocking her again. I’ll be right over here if you need me.”
“O-kay.” Tyler hiccupped again, wrestling down his own misery, and stared halfheartedly at his plate.
Madison wrapped her little fists in Aubrey’s long blond hair and yanked, at the same time burying her face in Aubrey’s neck.
Poor baby. Aubrey began humming a Christian pop tune, the first thing that came into her head as she ambled over to the rocker in the corner of the living room. The instant she sank onto the soft cushion, Madison let out a scream of protest. She must be missing her mom, too.
“It’s all right, baby,” she soothed, and Madison’s cries became sobs.
Lord, please show me how to help them, how to comfort them. She closed her eyes and prayed with all her heart, but no answer seemed to come as the air conditioner kicked on, breezing cool air against her ankle.
Jillian Hart
When Aubrey McKaslin visited reclusive photographer William Corey, she found a man who had given up on life and faith. He said he was happy at his mountain retreat, but Aubrey didn't believe it for a minute.His eyes signaled a kindred soul, a man who shared her love of art and the outdoors. Spending time together awakened deeper feelings in them both, but could William trust in his faith and rise above his past?
Perfect. That’s what she was.
William struggled with the emotion in his chest. Never had he seen so clearly. The graceful way Aubrey smoothed a fingertip over a fragile velvet petal. She was sweetness itself. Feeling flooded him.
She glowed with happiness as she headed his way. “I’ve been wanting to do more rain chimes, with the fall rains a few months away. This will be perfect.”
“Rain chimes? Never heard of them.”
“You’ll get the first one for the season. They’re like wind chimes, but instead of wind, they catch the rain and chime.”
He could see the way she took the ordinary and made it a little lovelier. They had that in common, the appreciation of what was right in front of them. She broke down his reserve and he felt revealed as the warm mountain breeze swept over him. Aubrey came close, but he didn’t move away.
JILLIAN HART
makes her home in Washington State, where she has lived most of her life. When Jillian is not hard at work on her next story, she loves to read, go to lunch with her friends and spend quiet evenings with her family.
Everyday Blessings
Jillian Hart
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Put on a heart of compassion.
—Colossians 3:12
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
Letter to Reader
Questions for Discussion
Chapter One
Aubrey McKaslin didn’t know if she was coming or going. All she knew was that her eighteen-month-old niece was crying in agony, holding her fists to her ears. The little girl’s cries echoed in the coved ceiling of the dining nook of her stepsister Danielle’s home. To top it off, her almost five-year-old nephew Tyler was refusing to eat his dinner.
She was running on four hours’ sleep at the end of a difficult day that came at the end of a very bad week, and she was at her wit’s end. And she wasn’t the only one. Tyler, always a good and dependable boy, gave his plate a push away from him at the table and shot her a mulish glare.
“I want Mommy. I don’t want Mexi-fries!” He choked back a sob, his eyes full of pain. “I want my d-daddy. I want him to come h-home.”
“I know, but he can’t come, pumpkin. He’s still in the hospital.” Aubrey ran a loving hand over his tousled head. “You know he would be here with you if he could.”
“But why?”
“Because he’s sick, honey.” Aubrey’s heart broke as she bounced the weepy little girl on her hip, to comfort her. With her free hand, she knelt to brush her fingertips down the little boy’s nose. It usually made him smile, but not this evening. No, it had been a rough day for all of them.
On days like this, she wanted to know why so many hardships. She’d take it to the Lord in prayer, but she knew that life was like this, sometimes difficult, sometimes beyond understanding. All she could do was make the best of such an awful day.
“But why’s he sick?” Fat tears glistened in Tyler’s sorrowful eyes. “Why?”
Tyler’s dad, Jonas, wasn’t sick. He’d slipped into a degenerating coma, as the doctor had told them this afternoon. Jonas was a state trooper who’d been shot ten days ago when he’d stopped a speeder, who apparently had an outstanding warrant for his arrest and didn’t want to be caught. The man was still at large.
“When I’m sick, I hafta stay in bed or quiet on the couch.” The boy’s soulful eyes were filled with such innocence. “Daddy can, too?”
How could she explain this to him so he’d understand? Aubrey was at a loss. She loved her nephew; in the end, that’s all she could do for him. Love him through his pain. “Your daddy is so sick he has to stay at the hospital.”
“N-no?” Tyler choked on a sob. “I w-want my da-daddy. He’s gotta have M-Mexi-fries.”
So, that’s what this was about. She’d picked up fast-food Mexican meals on her way here to take turns sitting with the kids. Aubrey knew now why Tyler was so upset. It was a standing jest in the family that Mexi-fries, which were seasoned, deep-fried Tater Tots from a local taco place, could solve a host of problems. Being sick was one of them. “How about I ask your aunt Ava to take care of that? Will that make you feel better?”
“Y-yes.” Tyler was sobbing so hard he choked.
Poor little boy. Aubrey’s heart broke all over again for him as she wrapped her free arm around him. He clung to her, crying as hard as the baby in her other arm. How their mother handled this on a daily basis, Aubrey didn’t know. Talk about a tough job.
But an important one. A job she’d given up hope on ever having as her own considering the way her life was going. She pressed a kiss to Tyler’s temple. “Are you feeling better now?”
“Y-yeah.” He hiccupped and let go to rub his tears away with his fists. “I’m a big boy.”
“Yes, you are. A very big boy. You’re doing a terrific job, champ.”
“Y-yeah.” He gave a sniff and stared at his plate. “Do I gotta eat the Mexi-fries?”
“Try to eat something, okay?” She rubbed her free hand over Madison’s soft, downy head. The antibiotics she’d picked up earlier hadn’t kicked in yet, or at least not enough, and she was still in misery. “I’m going to try rocking her again. I’ll be right over here if you need me.”
“O-kay.” Tyler hiccupped again, wrestling down his own misery, and stared halfheartedly at his plate.
Madison wrapped her little fists in Aubrey’s long blond hair and yanked, at the same time burying her face in Aubrey’s neck.
Poor baby. Aubrey began humming a Christian pop tune, the first thing that came into her head as she ambled over to the rocker in the corner of the living room. The instant she sank onto the soft cushion, Madison let out a scream of protest. She must be missing her mom, too.
“It’s all right, baby,” she soothed, and Madison’s cries became sobs.
Lord, please show me how to help them, how to comfort them. She closed her eyes and prayed with all her heart, but no answer seemed to come as the air conditioner kicked on, breezing cool air against her ankle.
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