The Sheriff's Christmas Twins (14 page)

“I'm glad you finally told me. Took you long enough.”

Cradling his mug in one hand, he stretched his arm along the top of the chair beside him. “I held off because it's not something to be proud of. I've worked hard to leave the boy I once was behind.”

“You've achieved great things,” he said, his gaze probing. “What I don't understand is what any of this has to do with you and Allison. I mean, what does the past have to do with the present?”

“Everything.” He'd expected Josh, of all people, to understand. “I'm a product of my past.”

“To a certain extent, yes. However, you're in control of how you live your life now.” He tapped the table. “You know what
not
to do. I would argue that you'd make a more excellent husband and father than someone like me, who was fortunate enough to have good parents.”

“That's absurd.” While far from perfect, Josh and his brothers all had solid marriages and were doting fathers.

“Think about it, Shane. You were miserable as a kid. So miserable that you'd never put another kid through that. You witnessed what a man's carelessness and neglect can do to his wife. You wouldn't dare treat a woman you loved that way.”

Pushing out of the chair, he stalked to the fireplace and propped his hand against the mantel. The orange flames licked at the fat logs just as self-doubt taunted his insides. He'd been set on this solitary course for much of his life. Entertaining another way, one where he'd get to experience love and partnership, was peculiar and slightly frightening.

He knew how it felt to be let down again and again. To have his hopes dashed repeatedly. He couldn't do that to any woman, especially Allison. Couldn't do that to a helpless kid. The twins' faces popped into his mind, and his chest tightened.

“Have you never considered that God sent David Ashworth into your life for a reason?”

“What?” He twisted to meet his perusal. “Why would God do that? He didn't bother with me for the first thirteen years of my life.”

Josh was aware of his struggles with his faith. Shane frequently sought excuses not to attend church services. Over the years, the reverend had reached out to him, as well as Josh's father, Sam O'Malley. Josh and his brothers had talked to him, urging him to take his relationship with Christ seriously. He hadn't listened.

Turning his chair around so that he could face Shane, he sat with one leg propped on the other. “The Scriptures tell us that it rains on the good and the bad. We all endure trials in this world, and many times we won't discover the reasons for those trials until we reach heaven. Other times, we can use the lessons we learn to bless others.”

Bitterness rose up to choke him. “How is having an absentee father and drunk-out-of-her-mind mother supposed to enable me to help someone else?”

“I can't answer that,” Josh said. “What I do know is that those experiences have shaped the man you are today, the same as living with David and his children did.”

Shane fell silent. Not once had he viewed David's entrance into his life as anything other than chance. Eaten up with self-pity and rage, his soul starved for love and approval, he could've missed the greater picture.

“It's possible I was wrong.”

“God loves the whole world. It'd be prideful to think you're the exception,” Josh quietly pointed out.

Turning away, Shane stared at the flames. “I need to think.”

His friend approached and laid a hand on his shoulder. “You should also read your Bible. Start with the book of John.”

Then he let himself out, leaving Shane alone with a thousand unanswered questions.

Chapter Fourteen

S
hane must've decided to avoid her for the remainder of the month. He'd left without saying goodbye yesterday, and she hadn't seen him since. Town business could be keeping him away, but Allison had her doubts. He'd been upset with her. Maybe even a little angry, which in turn made her miserable. Memories of being in his arms warred with the sting of his ultimate rejection. She'd basically offered him her heart on a platter, and he'd walked away.

Initiating that kiss had been a mistake. Revealing her feelings had been a mistake. Because even if he'd met her declaration with one of his own, they couldn't be together, not when his relationship with Christ was unresolved. Building a life with someone who didn't share her faith would bring trials and heartache. After her reckless behavior, she wasn't sure how she was supposed to act around him.

Just after feeding the babies their midday meal of warm milk and oatmeal flavored with cinnamon—thankfully she knew enough to manage the simple food—a rap sounded on the front door. Hope and dread surged.

God, please give me strength
, she prayed desperately.

Her hand shook as she turned the knob and eased the door open. Surprise followed on the heels of disappointment. Not Shane.

“Caroline? Good afternoon.”

Beneath her cream hat adorned with ruby red flowers, Caroline's hair was perfectly coifed. Her cream cloak—an impractical choice given the elements but one she could obviously afford—skimmed the toes of her polished leather boots.

“I hope I'm not interrupting anything.” She looked askance at the apron Allison had found in Mrs. Watts's hutch. She'd donned it to protect her dress from the twins' mess-making skills.

“Not at all.” She stepped aside. “I'm afraid I haven't yet stocked the kitchen. There isn't any cocoa or tea, but I know how to fix coffee.”

“No, thank you—” She stopped short on the threshold, her delicate gloved hand pressed against her chest. “What are those?”

Closing out the cold, Allison suppressed a chuckle. Caroline was staring in comical horror at Izzy and Charlie, who were confined in the crate seats Shane had crafted for them. They were close enough to the fireplace to benefit from its warmth, but out of reach of stray sparks. Izzy clutched her bear and bounced, big eyes fastened on Caroline. Charlie's own fingers were entertainment enough for him.

Smiling, she removed the apron and draped it on the chair back. “Caroline, meet Charlie and Izzy Blake, Fenton Blake's great-grandchildren.”

Astounded, she couldn't seem to tear her gaze away. “Two of them? They look the same size.”

“They're the same age. Twins.” Feeling mischievous, she approached the babies. “Would you like to hold one?”

“No!” She snapped her jaw shut. “I mean, no, thank you.” Her lips puckered. “Why do you have them?”

“Their mother passed away nearly a month ago.”

“How terrible.”

“Fenton had errands here in town. They're staying with me for a couple of days.”

Bending to smooth Izzy's curls and wipe a stray eyelash from Charlie's cheek, Allison struggled with the thought of having to say goodbye. She'd grown used to their toothy smiles and eager morning greetings. Every time they clutched her neck and buried their faces in her hair, trusting her to meet their needs, her heart expanded with emotion. Before meeting Izzy and Charlie, she hadn't thought it possible to form an attachment so quickly. Now she knew differently. They'd take a little piece of her heart when they returned to their cove.

It was going to be impossible not to worry about them, to wonder how Fenton was faring. She hoped Shane would make good on his promise to send frequent visitors to check on the little family.

Shaking off the maudlin thoughts, she said, “Would you like to put your cloak and gloves over here?”

“I can't stay. I came to tell you that a group of us are meeting Friday afternoon to assemble the gift baskets, if you're interested.”

“I'll plan to be there. Thank you for inviting me to join in.”

Considering she was a short-term visitor, it really was thoughtful of Caroline to include her. She sensed there was more to Caroline Turner than the privileged, rich-girl persona she projected to the town. Too bad Allison wouldn't be sticking around to discover whether or not she was right.

“You did say that you were involved in Norfolk's charitable activities.” Her navy blue gaze returned to the twins. “I thought you might be bored. I see now that's not the case.”

“Still, I'd like to participate.”

“I'll count on you.” Inclining her head, Caroline bid her goodbye and returned to the buggy and hired man waiting for her beneath the giant maple tree.

She watched her leave, her mind once again drifting to Shane. Would he continue to shun her? Would that be such a bad thing?

* * *

Allison touched the tip of her finger to the paper pinwheel and watched it flutter. Her tree was beautiful but incomplete. It needed more color and texture. Shane wasn't likely to fulfill his agreement to help her finish it. Not after that ill-timed kiss and his hostile reaction.

“Is this a good spot?”

Allison turned to watch Deputy Ben MacGregor balance on a chair and hold a sprig of mistletoe to the beam between the dining and living rooms. He'd dropped by in search of Shane with Fenton in tow, whom she was beginning to suspect had mischief up his sleeve. The older man had produced the mistletoe from his coat pocket and guilted the deputy into hanging it for him.

“A little to the left.” Fenton stood in the dining room observing Ben.

“I wouldn't have pegged you as a romantic, Fenton,” she said, coming around the sofa. The sofa where she'd kissed Sheriff Shane Timmons. Her skin flushed hot, then cold.

“I'm simply following tradition.” He tried to look innocent and failed.

Allison pursed her lips. He'd made several pointed remarks about her and Shane at the cabin. If he thought he could push the two of them together, he was going to be sorely disappointed.

Footsteps on the porch alerted her to another arrival. “Busy place today.”

The instant she opened the door, the breath squeezed out of her lungs. She drank in Shane's rugged features, caressing them with her gaze as her fingers itched to do.

“Allison.” His azure gaze wary, he spoke into the awkward silence. “I'm looking for Ben.”

Using the door for support, she stepped out of his way, giving him an unobstructed view of the room. He spotted Ben first, then the mistletoe in his hand. His expression turned icy.

“Hey, Shane.” Ben greeted his boss with enthusiasm. “I need to talk to you.”

Shane halted on the threshold, his hands fisted at his sides. Allison could feel waves of hostility coming off him. He obviously didn't like that Ben was here. But if he didn't want her for himself, why did he care who she spent time with?

“Best place to do that would be at the office,” he snapped. “Why didn't you look for me there?”

Ben belatedly noted his ire. “Oh, I did,” he said, his tone flat. “I looked in the livery, the barber shop and the mercantile. When I couldn't find you, I naturally thought you might be spending time with your visitor.”

Shane's nostrils flared. The two men glared at each other until Fenton ducked past the chair supporting Ben and clapped his hands together. “What do you say, Sheriff? You wanna be the first one to try out this here mistletoe? Quinn was having a sale. I'm sure Allison wouldn't mind a peck from an old friend.”

Allison heard Shane's sudden intake of air. Ben averted his face to hide a smile. Mortified, she wagged a finger at the older man. “I don't mind being caught under the mistletoe with you, Mr. Blake. These two will have to find their own volunteers.”

“Aw, I'm too old for such shenanigans.” He waved off her suggestion, but she could tell her words tickled him.

“Where's Izzy and Charlie?” Shane directed the question to Fenton, not sparing her a second glance.

“Upstairs asleep. Allison has them in a routine already.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Ben gave one tap of the hammer and stepped down off the chair. “There you go, Mr. Blake.”

“Fenton, remember?”

“Yes, sir. Would you like a ride back to Shane's?”

“Nothing for me to do there. I'll go after supper.”

Laying the hammer on the large table, Ben strode to fetch his hat. He held the battered Stetson against his chest and cupped Allison's upper arm. Trouble twinkled in his green eyes. “I look forward to seeing you again, Miss Allison. Next time I stop by, be prepared. It's been a long time since I've caught any lady beneath the mistletoe, let alone one as irresistible as you.”

With a wink, he ambled past an annoyed-looking Shane to the porch. Fenton chuckled.

Mumbling a farewell, Shane pivoted and stalked out behind his deputy. Allison hesitated in the open doorway and overheard them talking about new evidence of their drifter. She was still there when Shane walked around his horse to climb into the saddle. He hesitated. Over the animal's broad back, he looked straight at her. Ben was talking and gesturing as he mounted up, yet Shane's gaze remained trained on her. The look was charged with emotion.

Fenton stepped up beside her, and the connection was broken. Shane bent his head so that his hat's brim blocked his face. He swung his leg up and over, fit his boots into the stirrups and nudged the animal's flank with his heel.

“Now there goes a man who could use the love of a good woman.”

She didn't have to ask which man he was referring to. “He's pretty satisfied with the life he has.”

“Maybe you could persuade him to see things differently.”

“Me?” she squeaked, whipping her head around.

Tiny lines creased the outer corners of his eyes. “I've got eyes and ears, missy.”

“You can't make someone love you, Fenton,” she whispered, sorrow invading every part of her.

Sympathy mingled with understanding on his wizened face. “So it's like that, is it?”

Blinking away tears, she lowered her gaze to the rug at her feet. “I'm afraid so.”

He patted her shoulder much like a caring grandfather would do. Letty was fortunate to have had him in her life. Allison wished with all her soul that her father was here to hold her. He hadn't been one to press his advice on her, but he'd willingly given it if she'd asked.

“It's plain as day he cares about you.”

“He feels a responsibility for me. That's all.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but no sound came out. He paled and clutched his chest.

“Fenton?” Alarmed, Allison took hold of his arm. “What's wrong?”

“Need to sit,” he wheezed, fumbling for the nearest chair.

She assisted him to the sofa. “Tell me what to do. Do you need water? Medicine?”

“My satchel.” Hunched forward, he pointed to the corner behind the door.

Allison brought it to him and riffled through the contents until she found a bottle. “Is this what you need?”

At his nod, she shook out a tablet and gave it to him. “I'll get water.”

Unnerved, she lifted silent prayers and hurried back to his side with a cup. His color still off, Fenton sipped the liquid and, when he'd had enough, sank against the cushions and closed his eyes.

“Should I get the doctor?”

“Already seen him.”

“But—”

His lids fluttered open. “No need to fret. I'll be right as rain shortly.”

She felt useless, not sure what to do and wishing Shane was there. “Does this happen often?”

“Twice since Letty passed. I thank the Lord I had my medicine close at hand.”

“I can't imagine how you've coped this past month.”

“Prayer sustained me.”

Something about his wrinkled, age-spotted hands made her want to weep. He'd endured such heartache and hardship. She hated to think of him returning to his isolated cabin.

He opened his eyes. “I've been asking God to send help. Someone who'd love my great-grandbabies as much as I do.”

The hopeful glint in his eyes astonished her. “Surely you're not thinking I'm that person. Don't get me wrong, I adore Izzy and Charlie. They're precious. But I'm unwed. And my home is in Virginia.”

“I didn't give God a list of attributes.” His wrinkles became more pronounced with his frown. “I hate to think of them living far from me, but in my position, I can't afford to be particular. If things were different, if I was in better health, I'd never give them up. Doc told me today that I can't go on like this much longer.”

Rising from the sofa, she went to the window and stared unseeing at the bleak landscape, her mind whirling with possibilities. She had resources. Position. Influence. She had the wherewithal to provide a comfortable home for them and the means to hire a nanny to assist her. She'd require a cook, of course. The twins would soon move beyond basic oatmeal. She pictured a tasteful home in her brother's neighborhood with a spacious nursery stocked with furniture and toys. A substantial garden space would do nicely, as well.

Allison's primary desire was to have a family of her own. Could this be God's way of providing one for her?

“Besides,” he said in a sly tone, “I doubt you'll remain unwed for long. If Shane won't step up, there's a certain deputy who's sweet on you.”

She turned around. “I can't live here, Fenton. Not with Shane nearby...”

Gatlinburg's sheriff would not be pleased in the slightest to have her underfoot. And it would be torture for her to live so close to him, to see him on a daily basis, wanting him yet knowing he was forever out of reach.

“And Ben MacGregor is a professional flirt. If I were to express an iota of serious intent, he'd run for the hills.”