The Sheriff's Christmas Twins (10 page)

“Bad news, Sheriff. Wind's picking up, and the snow's showing no sign of stopping.” His gray gaze didn't look particularly worried. In fact, Shane was pretty sure the older man was pleased with the forecast, which didn't make any sense. “Looks like you may be sticking around longer than just one night.”

Chapter Ten

O
n a thin pallet near the banked fire, Allison huddled into the quilt, unable to get warm. Cold air clung to the floorboards. The tip of her nose was cold. And her cheeks. Her ears, too. The cabin's earlier heat had waned with the onset of evening. She could make out the jut of Shane's shoulder beneath his blanket. His pallet was situated a couple of feet from hers, close enough for her to reach if she were to stretch her arm out as far as she could.

This arrangement would've felt incredibly intimate if it hadn't been for Fenton's occasional snores and the babies' soft, steady breathing.

“Shane?” she whispered. “You asleep?”

He was lying facing away from her, his head cushioned by a small pillow. “Yep.”

“You are?”

Drawing in a deep breath, he shifted onto his back and rested one arm across his forehead. “What's on your mind?”

“I'm curious what your plan is.”

“Plan for what exactly?” He spoke in hushed tones.

“Helping Mr. Blake and the children. You know as well as I do that he can't continue as he has been. He doesn't look healthy, in my opinion.”

He rubbed both hands down his face and turned his head to look at her. His eyes gleamed in the near darkness. “He's not. His heart's weak. The medicine he takes helps manage the condition provided he takes good care of himself.”

This was terrible news. The twins' mother was dead, and their sole caretaker was in poor health. “We have to do something.”

“I'm not sure what the solution is. He's too far from town for someone to come out on a daily basis.”

“Do you think he'd be willing to move closer?”

“A gentleman like him who's up in years? I seriously doubt it. The Blakes have inhabited this cove for generations.”

Allison mulled over the problem. There had to be a solution that Fenton could live with. But what?

“I'll talk to him tomorrow,” Shane said. “Maybe there's a distant relative who'd take the kids in.”

She sat upright. “I can't see him allowing that. Charlie and Izzy are all he's got left.”

He sat up, too. “We'll figure something out. You have my word.”

“The people of Gatlinburg are fortunate to have you looking out for them, you know that?”

“Some might not agree with you,” he drawled, “but I appreciate the sentiment.”

She covered a yawn. “I wonder what George and Clarissa are doing right now.”

“If they're smart? Sleeping. Like we should be.” He pointed over his shoulder. “No telling if those two will snooze through the night.”

“You're right.” Shivering, she lay down again and tugged the frayed quilt edges to her chin. “My body's exhausted, but my mind won't settle. That ever happen to you?”

He got comfortable, this time facing her. “Sometimes. When I have a vexing puzzle to solve or an elusive criminal to capture.”

Allison changed her mind...being here like this, chatting with him in the stillness of the night, felt immensely personal and private.

“What keeps you up nights?” He sounded relaxed and close to drifting off to sleep. “What worries the indomitable Allison Ashworth?”

“The things that worry me would seem silly to you.”

In her early twenties, she hadn't given much thought to marriage. After her father's death, she and George had assumed the daunting responsibility of running their father's business and seeing to their employees' welfare. Her free time had been devoted to charitable work or visiting with her dearest friends. There had been several men who'd shown interest in courting her and, while she'd agreed to spend time with a few of them, she hadn't allowed anything serious to develop.

She hadn't wanted to acknowledge the truth back then, but being with Shane now made it impossible to deny. Deep in the inner recesses of her heart, she'd nursed the hope that one day Shane would return to Norfolk and finally give her a chance to love him. To heal the wounds inflicted by careless parents and life's hard knocks.

“Try me,” he said.

The fact that he couldn't see her expression made it easier to confess. “My mom died when I was ten,” she reminded him. “I have many wonderful memories of her. I remember her as a kind, gentle, patient woman. She had this exuberant laugh that didn't match her genteel appearance. She and my father would sit and talk for hours in his study...sharing stories, playing chess, making plans for our future.” Smiling to herself, she felt for the locket she kept around her neck. A gift from her father on her thirteenth birthday, it contained miniature photographs of her parents.

“Sounds nice.”

“I was blessed with parents who adored each other. They didn't exclude us, however. Mother and Father were firm in their discipline. They expected us to follow their instructions. They were also generous with their affections.”

“I'm sorry you lost her, especially at so young an age.”

A pang of wistfulness gripped her. “It was incredibly difficult in the first few years following her death. Her absence leached much of the happiness from our lives. Our family unit had been broken, and the loss of her nearly crippled my father emotionally. He was a changed man. His faith in God was the only thing that got him through.”

“Are you worried you'll lose George like you lost your parents?”

She tucked her hand beneath the pillow. “The thought crosses my mind sometimes, but I try not to dwell on it.”

“What is it, then?”

“I wonder if I'll ever experience a love like my parents shared...if I'll have a deep connection with someone.” She worked to keep the emotion from her voice. “I think that's why I've focused on my profession instead of romance. I'm scared of failing. I don't want to settle for less than God's best for me.”

Shane was quiet a long time. “I didn't have the opportunity to meet your mother. Is it possible you remember only the good times? That maybe your memories are better than the reality?”

“I know my parents' relationship wasn't perfect. There were times when things were strained at the supper table and afterward they'd go their separate ways. But by the next day, they were smiling at each other again.”

“If anyone deserves happiness, Allie, it's you.”

Her heart thrummed at the rare use of her shortened name.

“But I'd hate to see you wind up alone because you've set your expectations too high.”

It was her turn to be silent. She stewed over his words.
Was wanting
him
setting her expectations too high?
she was tempted to ask.

“I don't want to be alone anymore,” she whispered instead. “I want to build a life with someone. I want children. Lots of them.”

“How many is a lot?” He sounded more alert than before.

“I don't have an exact number in my head.” Her cheeks stung. This wasn't exactly a normal conversation to be having with a man who wasn't her intended. “All I know is that I have the means to care for a whole gaggle of children and more than enough affection to go around.”

“One day you'll get the family you're longing for. They'll be mighty fortunate to have you in their lives.”

Emotion clogged her throat. That was the nicest thing he had ever said to her. “Thank you, Shane.”

“Good night, Allison.”

* * *

Shane couldn't get their late-night conversation out of his head. He sat at the kitchen table with Fenton the following afternoon, a chessboard between them. Usually he enjoyed pitting his wits against an opponent, especially if it was someone he didn't often play with. Today was different. He couldn't focus because he kept getting distracted by Allison and the babies.

On a quilt stretched across the floorboards, she sat with her legs curled beneath her and held Izzy's stuffed bear midair. Piles of pillows supported Charlie and Izzy. They were strong enough to sit up by themselves but their balance wasn't perfect. Taking turns, Allison would lean forward and lightly tap the infants on their noses, chins or chests with the bear. The simple game thrilled them.

Shane's attention switched between their bright, round faces to Allison, who looked very happy for a woman whose Christmas holiday had gone awry. What a special woman. Instead of fretting over things she couldn't change, she made the best of whatever situation she found herself in. That was a rare quality in anyone.

The bear slipped from her fingers. As she leaned forward to retrieve it, her unbound hair spilled over her shoulders, shimmering like strands of liquid sunshine. Shane very badly wanted to test its texture. Fenton had lent her Letty's hairbrush and mirror that morning, along with a dress. The design was plain. There were no ribbons or buttons or fancy beadwork, but the fabric was a rich jewel-blue tone that made Allison's creamy complexion glow with good health. She fit in these surroundings as if born for mountain life.

“Checkmate.”

Fenton's triumphant announcement brought Shane's attention to the board. Bending close, he said, “I thought you were supposed to be tough to beat. Guess you got other things on your mind.” He winked so that Shane had no doubt as to his meaning.

“I guess so,” he admitted sheepishly. “How about another round?”

“You in the mood to get trounced a second time?” The old man's creased face lit with humor.

He kicked up his shoulder. “What else we got to do?”

Fenton lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “You could give your sweetheart a hand.”

Shane rested his hands on the table. “She's a friend.”

“Shame.” Turning sideways in his chair, he took in the scene before him. “The man who wins her won't live to regret it.”

“How do you figure?”

“You get to be my age, you see a lot. You learn to listen to this.” He tapped a bent finger to his chest, indicating his heart. “She'll be a fine mama someday.”

Shane didn't disagree. Allison was a natural caretaker. Nurturing was in her blood. Look at how she'd tried to enfold him in her flock the moment he arrived at Ashworth House. Any normal person would've let her. Too bad her generosity hadn't been a match for his impenetrable defenses.

“She's worried about you, you know,” Shane murmured.

Fenton's brow furrowed, and he nodded, sadness stealing over his features. “It ain't been easy. There've been moments when I thought I couldn't go on. I'm not a spring chicken anymore. Feeding and diapering twins around the clock reminded me of that fact real quick. I can't let Letty down. I'm all those babies have got, but this old ticker...” Frowning, he stared at the trio on the quilt. “I worry what might happen to them if I were to suffer an episode. No one around for miles.”

“I wish I could provide someone to help out. If you lived in town—”

“Stop right there, Sheriff.” He held up a hand. “I know what you're about to suggest, and I ain't leavin' my land.”

“I didn't figure you would.”

“I'm too old to be starting over.”

“You have relatives who could come and stay? Help out for a while?”

“You mean someone who'd stick around until the twins are about five years old? Nah. I hate to admit it, but what those kids need is a young, God-fearing couple who'd raise them right.”

Something in his tone put Shane on alert. The way Fenton was looking at Allison, all hopeful and expectant like she was an elusive Christmas gift he'd prayed for, filled Shane with foreboding.

Izzy and Charlie's giggles lilted through the space. Over Fenton's shoulder, Shane met Allison's gaze. She smiled, a single dimple flashing, before returning her attention to the task of playing entertainer.

Shane sank against the chair back, amazed at how much he longed to be with her on the floor, to sit close beside her and join in the game. To be a part of their group.

It was the same spot where they'd conversed the night before. He could recall the huskiness of her voice, the sweetness of her scent, the feeling that they were the only ones awake for miles. She'd opened up to him in a way no one ever had before. He'd been humbled that she'd trusted him and sorry that he'd missed out on a friendship with her.

For a moment, he'd wished her stay could be permanent. But then reason kicked in. He wasn't good enough for the likes of her, and friendship wouldn't satisfy him for long.

“What are you going to do?” Shane said at last.

The old man continued to scrutinize Allison in a way that heightened his lawman's suspicions.

“The only thing I can do. Pray and wait for the good Lord to provide an answer.”

* * *

“Enjoying the peace and quiet?”

Framed by the barn stalls, Shane turned from petting one of the horses. His hat and gloves rested on a nearby hay bale. His duster was buttoned and a blue neckerchief kept his neck warm. “I needed to stretch my legs.”

Allison pushed the door shut and crossed the straw-littered ground to join him. Folding her arms beneath her cape, she leaned against the stall and tilted her face up. “Admit it. The crying got to you.”

“Two at once was a bit much.” A slight smile graced his mouth. The growth along his jawline was heavier today.

“It wasn't long after you left that they drifted off.”

After his and Fenton's second chess game, it became clear that Izzy and Charlie were ready for a nap. Allison scooped up Izzy while Fenton had taken her brother. Shane had put the board and pieces away and, mumbling an excuse about fresh air and horses, had made his escape.

“They're good babies,” she said. “Especially considering they must be missing their mama.”

Shane scraped a hand along his jaw. “I hadn't thought about that. They're so young...”

“Letty was their mother and primary caretaker.” Pocketing her gloves, she reached out to pet the horse's face. “Did you speak to Fenton?”