The Sheriff's Christmas Twins (13 page)

Shane realized he'd offended her. “I didn't intend to imply that you would.” He gestured, the scissors still in his grip. “My memories of the estate are tied up in the past, that's all. I think of you, and all I can see is that grand house.”

She slowly nodded, her gaze dropping. “While I'm content to continue on with George, I've been thinking of striking out on my own for a while.”

Shane wasn't convinced she'd be happy. Imagining her all alone in an enormous house didn't make
him
happy. That wasn't her dream. “What's George's opinion?”

“I haven't told him yet.” Lifting her chin, she silently dared him to keep her secret. “Besides, I don't know what the future holds. Who knows? Perhaps I will be setting up residence with Trevor in the new year.”

Jealousy instantly invaded every inch of him. It was an illogical reaction. He didn't wish for her to be alone or unhappy, and yet the idea of her building a life with a stranger made him ache with regret.

“Whatever you decide,” he forced himself to say, “I support you. You deserve to be happy.”

Chapter Thirteen

D
ecorating a tree with Shane was very different from decorating one with four rambunctious children. Where the children would attack the task with haphazard gusto, he was deliberate. He studied the branches for long moments before placing each ornament.

“It doesn't have to be perfect.” She softly nudged his side. “You should see our parlor tree. It may not win awards, but it's decorated with love.”

The shiny ribbon dangled from his pointer finger. “I've never done this before.”

Allison nodded, masking her consternation. It shouldn't come as a surprise. The estate staff had decorated the large tree in the hall, and they hadn't had a second tree then.

“Well, you're doing a fine job. I'm glad you agreed to this.” She gestured toward the kitchen. “I'm only sorry I don't know how to make frosted sugar cookies.”

“I don't need cookies.” His steady gaze warmed her and seemingly communicated that her presence was enough to satisfy him.

Fanciful thinking, that.

He looped the pinwheel on a high branch and watched it spin and dance. They'd chosen a pretty tree, about seven feet tall with thick, full branches. Its sharp perfume competed with the smoky odor of crackling firewood.

He gestured to the coffee table. “That was my last one.”

“Mine, too.” Tapping her chin, she said, “It definitely needs more color. I'm thinking popcorn and cranberry strings, maybe fabric bows. And there's nothing for the top.”

“Quinn stocks a small selection of Christmas merchandise. You might find a topper you like there.”

She turned to him. “Will you help me finish decorating once I get more supplies?”

After a moment, he nodded in mock seriousness. “I suppose I could do that. It wasn't as tedious as I thought it would be.”

“I'm relieved to hear you weren't bored,” she said wryly.

“I could never be bored around you, Allie.” Then, as if embarrassed at the admission, he located a broom and began sweeping up stray needles. “Did your father ever tell you how I came to work for him?”

“He didn't mention it.”

Her father hadn't given them a whole lot of information about Shane's past, citing his private nature. Her father had urged them to give Shane time, probably thinking he'd share when he got ready. Only, he never did.

A sigh gusted out of him, and Allison knew it had nothing to do with her. “My mother spent most days drinking and bemoaning her lot in life. One day she got careless and, locked in the booze's haze, knocked over a lamp and started a fire. I came home to find the place burned to the ground. The police told me what happened.” He stopped sweeping and rested his weight on the broom handle.

Her heart breaking for him, she forced herself to remain where she was. “I'm so sorry, Shane.”

“I didn't have anywhere to go, so I spent the next couple of nights on a bench in the city park. I got tired of being hungry, so I decided to steal some items to sell on the street for profit.” Memories lent him a haunted look. “I did that for a while, justifying my behavior with the thought that the folks I was stealing from had enough to spare. And then I chose one of your father's stores. The one on Federal Street.” A sardonic smile twisted his mouth. “He was there for a meeting with the manager and caught me in the act.”

Allison took a step closer. She could hardly believe he'd chosen to confide in her after all these years. “He must've been angry.”

“He was at first. I thought he was going to march me straight to the police headquarters.” He shook his head ruefully. “Instead, he took me into the store office and demanded to know why I was stealing. He chose to hear my story. And he had compassion on me.”

Tears blurred her vision. “He was one of the most caring men I've ever known.”

“I wish I could be like him.”

The admission rocked her. Shane hadn't had the foundation she and George had enjoyed. He hadn't had anyone to love him, to instruct him in the ways of healthy relationships, to bolster his confidence. That he'd achieved as much as he had was a testament to his inner strength and determination. She liked to think her father's intervention had had a hand in that, as well.

“In many ways, you are like him,” she said. “You stand for what's right. You insist on justice and fairness. You apply yourself to helping your fellow man.”

He resumed his sweeping. “You're kind to say that,” he said gruffly.

“It's the truth.”

She wished she could make him see his own value, but she couldn't. He'd have to come to accept it for himself. She wasn't sure he ever would, and that made her sad.

Spying a stray ribbon on the floor near the coffee table, she bent and retrieved it. When she straightened, black dots danced before her eyes. She swayed.

“Allie?” The broom handle thwacked the floor. Suddenly, he was beside her, his arm around her. “What's wrong?”

Letting him support her, she closed her eyes. “I'm a trifle light-headed. Nothing serious. I probably need to eat something.”

“Sit down.” He guided her to the sofa, settling her in the middle and sitting right beside her. His fingers skimmed her forehead. “Are you too hot? Do you have a headache? Are you experiencing any other symptoms?”

She opened her eyes to find him hovering close, worry churning in the stormy depths. “I'm fine, honestly.” She placed a hand on his chest. “I haven't slept well the last two nights. That, combined with skipping lunch, is all that's wrong.”

He glanced at the mantel clock and huffed. “One-thirty already. I should've fixed our noon meal instead of messing with the tree.”

“I should've paid attention to the time.”

“You sure you're okay?” Beneath her palm, the muscles of his chest contracted and released.

She was tempted to explore his strength. “I'm positive. I was simply light-headed for a moment. That happens sometimes.”

His gaze zeroed in on her mouth. Yearning surged there. His hand, which had come to rest on her neck, slowly slid beneath her ponytail, his thumb stroking a mesmerizing pattern beneath her ear. She decided to throw discretion to the wind.

Her pulse racing, the tattoo of her heart loud in her ears, she reached up and framed his jaw with her hand. Surprise stirred in his gaze seconds before she pulled him down to her. His sharp inhale was cut off by her lips covering his. Allison had no clue what she was doing, nor how to go about it. Shane didn't at first respond. He seemed frozen in shock. Then, with a rumble deep in his chest, he crushed her to him. He took charge of the kiss, and her toes curled inside her boots.

Her fingers clenched the fabric of his shirt, holding him hostage. Not that he protested. He delved into her hair, cradling her head, holding her fast. His lips were warm, firm and sweet. Being with him felt right, as if this was what was meant to happen all along, the two of them traveling on converging roads that took years to intersect.

When he gripped her shoulders to hold her apart from him, a sound of protest escaped.

“Shane?”

His eyes were on fire, his features hewn from granite. “You don't know what you've done, Allison.”

Upset and confused, she blurted, “You mean what
we
did, don't you?”

“That cannot happen again.”

Releasing his shirt, which was hopelessly wrinkled, she scooted to the couch's far edge. “Why not?”

“Why not?”
He scraped a trembling hand through his hair. Shooting to his feet, he began to pace. “Because your life is in Virginia. Because you're going to marry Trevor Langston or some other man like him who knows how to be a husband and father. You're going to live in a house as grand as Ashworth House, and you're going to have enough kids to form a football team.”

Allison gaped. Pushing to her feet, she intercepted him, blocking his path. “What if I don't want Trevor? What if that life isn't for me? What if...I want you?”

“No.” He shook his head. Desperation flared. “
No.
You don't mean that.”

She touched his arm, and he flinched. “I know what's in my heart.”

“Stop, Allison.” Backing away, he held up his hands. “I've said it before, and I'll say it again. I'm not the commitment type. I like my life the way it is. That won't change.”

He was almost to the door when soft crying carried down the stairs. Hanging his head, he shot her a look full of turmoil. “I'll cook you a quick lunch while you see to them.”

On the verge of tears, Allison brushed past him and practically bolted up the stairs. She'd made a grave error in judgment. She'd taken a risk and it had blown up in her face.

* * *

Shane left the house as soon as he had lunch prepared. Allison had assured him she'd be fine on her own and would tell Fenton he'd return for him later that afternoon. Craving privacy to deal with what had happened, he seized the chance of escape.

He wasn't accustomed to being with other people around the clock. Being cooped up in Fenton's cabin with four other humans had taken its toll. And now the kiss...

Just thinking about her softness, her innocence, made his middle drop to his boots. Allison had branded him with that kiss. He'd never get it out of his head. Not only was he going to have a difficult time not repeating it, he was going to have to watch her leave at the end of the month, knowing the next time he saw her she'd likely belong to another man.

None of this was supposed to have been an issue. He was supposed to have remained aloof, unaffected by her many attributes. This was bound to be the worst Christmas in the history of Christmases.

He decided against going to the jail. His mood was too foul for polite conversation. Taking the long route home, he was relieved when he didn't cross paths with anyone.

Shane took his time brushing down his horse and unpacking his saddlebags. Afterward, he took his rifle apart, cleaned each piece and reassembled it. His new copy of
American Jurist and Law
didn't appeal, so he returned outside to chop wood in hopes the physical activity would burn off his frustration.

Twenty minutes later, he was midswing when he heard a masculine greeting. He lowered the ax.

“Josh. What brings you here in the middle of the day?”

His friend strode past the outhouse and toolshed and into the wooded area behind his cabin. “I was manning the store when I heard someone say they saw you riding near town. Ben's been concerned. We all have.”

“As you can see, we didn't freeze in the high elevations.”

Lifting the ax above his head, he brought it down with enough force to slice through the wood like butter. The resulting thwack was satisfying. He tossed the pieces into the growing pile.

“Where'd you find shelter?”

“We passed a couple of nights on the Blake homestead.”

“Fenton and Letty getting along all right?”

He wedged the blade in the wood and, resting his hands on his hips, regarded Josh.

“Some things have happened out at the Blakes'. Letty got mixed up with the youngest Whitaker boy. About six months ago, she gave birth to twins. A boy and a girl.”

Josh's eyes widened. “I'm sure Fenton was fit to be tied.”

“I'd say he was at first. Doesn't matter now because Letty's dead, and he's Izzy and Charlie's sole caretaker.”

“I'm sorry to hear that.” Somber now, he passed a gloved hand over his mouth. “He practically raised Letty. How's he gonna cope with two kids in his condition?”

“I don't know.”

Allison had posed the same question. He didn't have answers then, and he didn't have any now.

The treetops rustled as a stiff breeze barreled down the mountains. Pulling his collar up, he grabbed the handle again. As Shane chopped, Josh moseyed over to the growing pile and toed it with his boot.

“You planning on hosting a bonfire for the entire town?”

“Nope.”

His lower lip protruded as he nodded and inspected the stack over beside the barn. “That right there's enough to last one winter. Why the extra?”

“I need the exercise,” he huffed.

“Right...because you're getting thick in the middle.”

His dry tone sparked Shane's ire. “Why don't you go on back to the shop? Wouldn't want to miss any customers.”

“You wanna know what I think?”

“Not particularly.”

“I think you like Allison.”

Shane sliced through another log, not bothering to answer.

“You like her a lot. Except you don't want to, and that's got you all worked up. Am I right?”

Josh sported an infuriating grin that Shane was tempted to wipe off his face.

“Go home to your wife and kids, O'Malley, and leave me be.”

“Come on, Shane, I'm your friend. You have to talk to someone.”

“No, I don't.”

“So you're going to chop the entire forest down?” He held his hands out at his sides. “She's got, what? Three weeks left?”

“Twenty-four days.”

“Tell me this. Does she fancy you, too?”

Laying aside the tool, he passed his coat sleeve across his forehead and paced to where he'd left a water bucket. He downed a dipper of ice-cold water. Josh was persistent. Even if Shane managed to get rid of him now, he wouldn't drop the subject.

“Why is it important that you know?” he said testily.

“Because I'm your friend, and I think you need someone special in your life. Allison's the first person I've seen you let get to you. That tells me she's different.”

“She is different,” he admitted. “Always has been.”

“Then what's standing in your way?”

He waved for Josh to follow, and they made their way inside. Over coffee, Shane unloaded his entire life story. Josh didn't judge him. Didn't condemn his actions.