Karen Kirst - A Lawman For Christmas

“I’m a confirmed bachelor,” he countered.

“Didn’t you notice the way Lynette was ogling you? As if you’d accomplished great feats worthy of being recorded in history books?”

“Who says I haven’t?” he teased.

Her mouth tightened. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Smile and twinkle your eyes at me.”

He gave a disbelieving laugh. “I’m not allowed to smile at you?”

“Not in public,” she said. “I’m a dedicated spinster. Everyone will think you’ve charmed me off my farm and are even now filling my head with thoughts of wedding bells.”

“Why does it matter what anyone else thinks?”

“You know why.” She turned her head. “Oh, but look, there’s another of your crestfallen admirers.”

Ben spotted Veronica Patton right away. The last to embark, she stared at him and Isabel with obvious disdain. His wave was met with a halfhearted response. He hid a frown. The sense that he’d made a grave error assailed him. His interactions with the elegant blonde weren’t like those with the Smith sisters. He’d spent time alone with her, apart from her family. A couple of meals at the Plum. One stroll about town. And while he’d been a perfect gentleman, he was beginning to suspect Veronica viewed their association in a very different light.

He could thank Isabel Flores for this new, disturbing sensitivity regarding the women he occasionally spent time with.

“Everyone ready?” Ollie hollered over his shoulder. “Hold on to your hats, gents. Your sweethearts, too.”

Laughter rumbled through the wagon as they lurched into motion. Ben pushed the troubling thoughts aside. This was likely his one and only shot at seeing that Isabel enjoyed herself. He wouldn’t get another chance. With any other woman, Ben would’ve been able to find a way to make her relax. Isabel wasn’t just any woman, however. The fact that she disliked him made his task that much harder.

“What’s your favorite thing about Christmas?” When she hesitated, he murmured, “Is talking to you forbidden, as well?”

Her focus was on her gloved hands, folded tightly together in her lap. “I like many things about this time of year. One of them is the renewed spirit of charity. People tend to treat each other better.”

Her statement was a telling one. While he understood how it felt to live under the weight of a town’s critical scrutiny, it had been for a brief time and in another state. He hadn’t grown up with a scandalous father.

“Anything else?”

“I enjoy baking. This time of year has plenty of opportunities for that. My sisters and I spend extra time in the kitchen, making treats for their friends.”

“What about your friends?”

Her chin jutted. “My sisters are my friends.”

“Someday your sisters will marry and move away,” he said gently. “What happens then, Isabel?”

* * *

Isabel didn’t wish to contemplate the future. Too soon, her sisters would marry and move on, leaving her alone. Honor wasn’t too far from that reality, in fact. She wouldn’t begrudge them their happiness. When the time came, she’d celebrate their blessings.

The wagons rolled into the first dwelling’s yard and, once at a full stop, the postmaster’s son led everyone in a heartfelt rendition of “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel.” It was one of her favorites.

Trying to ignore Ben’s nearness and his pleasant tenor voice, she lifted her face to the sky and studied the patterns of twinkling lights in the black velvet expanse. She imagined God in all His glory, who’d crafted those stars and knew their exact number, listening to their voices. Was He pleased?

The words trailed off. Clapping startled her out of her reverie. The family, who’d come onto the porch, wore happy smiles. The youngest sons carried baskets of cookies and doled them out to the carolers.

“You have a delightful voice.” Ben’s warm breath teased the tendrils about her ear, and she shivered.

Amazing. Despite being fully aware of his reputation, she was still affected by him.

“You have an endless supply of false flattery, Deputy. Save it for someone gullible enough to believe you.”

“And you, Miss Flores, have a peculiar inability to accept praise.”

Their conveyance jerked into motion, knocking them into one another. Isabel gritted her teeth. The wagon’s occupants sneaked glances at them, no doubt cataloging their every exchange to dissect later. Ben had no inkling the amount of speculation they were drawing, because he was immune. He evidently didn’t care what others thought of him. For a brief instant, she envied him that.

They reached the next home within ten minutes. This time they sang “Silent Night,” a song that put Isabel in mind of Jesus’s earthly parents and the events leading up to His birth. If anyone knew how it felt to be talked about and judged, it had been Mary. How had she endured the speculation and accusations? Had she lived her life as usual while awaiting the Savior’s birth? Or had she perhaps sequestered herself, seeing only her family and Joseph?

When the song ended, they disembarked and gathered around a table with mugs of fragrant, spice-laced cider. Veronica swooped in with eagle-like accuracy.

“I apologize for arriving late.” Slipping her arm through Ben’s, she regarded Isabel with a brittle smile. “I would’ve gladly kept him entertained in your place. Everyone’s aware you detest having to associate with your peers.”

Veronica Patton actually thought she had something to fear from Isabel? A classic beauty, with long golden hair, crystal-blue eyes and creamy skin, she was popular, poised and perfect. And her family name didn’t have a single blemish.

Ben’s brows descended. “Veronica—”

“I’m the one who should apologize,” Isabel said with as much equanimity as she could muster. “I shouldn’t have monopolized the deputy’s attention. I’ll give you the privacy you crave.”

Before Ben could respond, Isabel pivoted on her heel and joined Carmen and her friends near the well. They huddled together to ward off the cold, their mugs cradled close, the welcome steam warming their faces.

“I’m glad you came, Isabel,” Rosa said kindly. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

Sipping the liquid, she savored the apple flavor and tried to steady her nerves. “It’s been a while since I’ve gotten to sing Christmas carols.”

Sharp-eyed Samantha Rogers studied her over the rim of her cup. “I didn’t think you’d ever join Ben MacGregor’s gaggle of admirers, Isabel. What changed?”

Carmen elbowed the girl.

Isabel’s stomach knotted. “I’m afraid you’ve gotten the wrong impression.”

“Appears I’m not the only one.”

Glancing around, she noticed the pointed stares bouncing between her and Veronica. What did they expect? An actual altercation to break out? Oh, wouldn’t Ben love that, she fumed, two women fighting over him?

Ignoring her nudging conscience that protested she was being unfair, she bade the girls goodbye and pulled Carmen aside.

“I’m going home.”

“What? Why?”

“This was a mistake.” She shook her head. “I shouldn’t have come.”

Carmen’s round face wrinkled with distress. “You don’t have to leave. Sit with me and the girls.”

“I’d rather be alone.” She snagged Carmen’s hand and gently squeezed. “Tell Honor I’ll see you both at home.”

“Shouldn’t we tell Ben?” She bit her lip. “It’s a long walk, and it’s dark. What if he’s right about that bank robber?”

“He’s preoccupied at the moment,” she said, wincing at the note of bitterness in her voice. She didn’t care that he and the gorgeous blonde were locked in a private conversation. She didn’t. “He’s making a bigger deal about the threat than he needs to.” Dragging her gaze away, she gave a brief wave. “Have fun, and I’ll see you later.”