Karen Kirst - The Sheriff's Christmas Twins

“I told you it was nothing,” she whispered, her voice off-kilter.

He took a big step back, his huff creating white puffs that hovered in the air. “You’ve always been a troublesome female, you know that?”

Her chin whipped up. “Excuse me?”

“You kept your father and brother hopping to keep up with your antics. I was thankfully too wise to join in.”

“If I was guilty of anything back then, it was trying to be your friend.”

Brushing past him in a swirl of petticoats and skirts, she marched in the direction of the house. Smoke curled from both chimneys into the gray sky above. She’d restrained her mane with a single blue ribbon, and the long ponytail bounced with the force of her steps.

He watched her for a moment before going after her, wishing for the first time in a long time that he had the kind of relationship with God that David Ashworth and his friends, the O’Malleys, had. He could sure use some divine help right then. But he’d never gotten over the feeling of abandonment that had taken root in his childhood. His pleas for his pa to come and rescue him, for his ma to truly change, for someone, anyone, to help make things better, had gone unanswered. Ignored. So he’d stopped asking.

Catching up to her at the corner of the house, he fell into step beside her, choosing to introduce a whole new subject. The past was a prickly maze of disappointment and confusion. Best to avoid it.

“I think you’re gonna like what I brought for you.”

“Oh?” She got that gleam in her eye that he didn’t trust. “Did you bring me a Christmas tree? A wreath? Greenery to decorate the mantel?”

His pace slowed. “Huh?”

“I think I’d like a cluster of mistletoe, as well. Maybe two.”

“What do you need all that for? You’re only going to be here a few weeks.”

“The most important weeks of the entire year.”

“Hold on.” He halted beside the wagon bed. “Why would you want mistletoe?”

Her crimson lips curved into a smile that many would find winsome. To him, it meant trouble. “You never know when an eligible suitor might pay me a visit at some point during my stay. Best to be prepared.”

Shane was like an unarmed man in an ambush as jealousy pummeled him. While she hadn’t mentioned Ben specifically, an image of his deputy and Allison locked in each other’s arms beneath the mistletoe wedged its way into his mind. Once there, he couldn’t dislodge it.

“What about Trevor Langston?” he ground out.

“Trevor and I don’t have an understanding,” she said airily. “I haven’t yet accepted his suit.”

Going to the rear of the bed, she peered into the multiple crates. He followed, irritated that she was here one day and already getting under his skin. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

“You’re leaving within a month. That’s hardly enough time to court.”

She ignored him as she continued to catalog the contents.

“I hope you’re not considering Ben. He’s not the settling-down type,” he went on. “Don’t pin your hopes on the likes of him. I mean it, Allison.”

“I’m not pinning my hopes on anyone.” Rolling her eyes, she planted her hands on her hips. “I’m teasing, Mr. Lawman. The mistletoe is for decoration...and maybe George and Clarissa. The children descend into giggling fits whenever their parents smooch. It’s quite entertaining.”

Her nose wrinkled adorably, and suddenly he was thinking about someone other than Ben kissing her beneath the mistletoe. Someone like himself.

Having reached the limit of his patience, Shane stifled a groan and, loading his arms with heavy crates, made his way to the kitchen. It took several trips to unload everything. He didn’t stay to help her unpack. Murmuring an excuse about work, he promised to swing by the following morning before beating a hasty retreat.

“Hurry up and get here, George,” he muttered.

At the livery, Milton Warring met him at the entrance, stained fingers tugging at his scraggly beard.

“What’s on your mind, Warring?”

“I’ve found evidence of a trespasser.”

Shane climbed down and let Warring’s assistant take over the rented wagon and team. When the lad was out of earshot, he said, “Show me.”

The livery owner led him upstairs into the loft where mostly hay and other supplies were stored. Near the shuttered opening overlooking Main Street, he spotted an empty tin of beans and nudged it with his toe. Inside, a dirty spoon rattled. Shane bent and examined the tin and raked through the scattered straw for other clues.

“Is it possible your hired boy ate his lunch up here and forgot to clean up after himself?”

“He eats his lunch on the bench out front most days. I asked to be sure, and he denies this is his.”

Shane walked the perimeter of the space, his gaze sweeping the planks. Near the ladder opening, he reached down and plucked a gold necklace from the straw. “Recognize this?”

Taking turns, they examined the locket and faded photo of a woman. “Haven’t seen her before,” Warring said. “You?”

“Nope.” Slipping it in his pocket, Shane said, “I’ll ask around. See if anyone has an idea who she might be.”

He scowled. “You think he’ll come back?”

“It’s a lot warmer in here than it is out there. If he got away with it once, he’ll try again. Unless he’s moved on.”

Their town saw a lot of travelers passing through on their way to or from North Carolina. Most were respectable folks. It was the disreputable few he had to worry about.

Shane put his boot on the ladder’s top rung. “Ben and I’ll take turns watching the place.”

“Good. I want that rascal caught.”

“Keep an eye out for anything else suspicious.”

He left the livery and headed for his office. His deputy was warming his hands at the woodstove and looked up at his entrance.

“We have a potential problem over at Warring’s.” Shane related the scant details and warned him to be on alert for unfamiliar faces.

“Will do, boss.” He gave a short nod. “You get Allison settled over at the Wattses’ place?”

“She’s Miss Ashworth to you. And I’d prefer it if you’d steer clear of her.”

Folding his arms over his chest, Ben met his gaze squarely. “Because she’s just here for Christmas? Or because you want her for yourself?”

When it became clear a couple of years back that he needed to hire help, he’d chosen Ben MacGregor because of his astute mind and discernment skills. They worked well together. Shane didn’t approve of his deputy’s flippant attitude toward women, but his personal life was none of his business.

“I don’t care what you do on your own time or who you involve, as long as you uphold the reputation of this office. But I won’t have you trifling with Allison’s emotions.”

“You didn’t answer the question.” From his stance and unyielding stare, it was obvious he wasn’t going to drop the matter.

“There’s nothing romantic between us. Never has been. She’s like a sister to me.” The words sounded false, even to his ears. “I don’t want to see her hurt.”

“I respect you, Shane. As my boss, but also as a man. I’d be an idiot to ruin our professional relationship by doing something stupid regarding your friend.”

“I’m glad you understand.”

“I’m not finished.” He held up a hand. “Seeing as how I’m not an idiot, you can rest assured that any relationship I pursue with her will be respectable.”

Shane curled his hands into fists, the buckskin gloves molding to his knuckles. For the first time since they started working together, he was tempted to plant his fist in the other man’s face. All because of Allison.

“If you hurt her, your career in law enforcement is over.”