The Sheriff's Christmas Twins (15 page)

From upstairs, she heard the babies stirring, babbling to themselves in their sweet, singsong voices. The idea that they could be her children, that she could love and nurture them into adulthood, filled her with a rare, tentative happiness.

“Family is the most important thing to me,” she said. “I've longed to be a mother since I was a young girl. My first instinct is to seize this opportunity, but I need time to think and pray. Their future is too important.”

“I understand.”

“Would you mind staying in town a couple of extra days?”

He sat up and nodded, his strength slowly returning. “I ain't gonna rush you on this. The idea is new to you, whereas I've been stewin' over it since the minute you and the sheriff showed up on my doorstep.”

“Please don't mention this to Shane.”

“And what do I tell him is the reason for us sticking around?”

“I'll explain everything to him.” The decision to become the twins' guardian was hers alone to make, but experience told her Shane would have an opinion and would feel compelled to impose it on her. “First I need to figure out how.”

Chapter Fifteen

H
e could hear the babies bawling almost as soon as he rode up. Trying the knob and finding it locked, he pounded on the door. “Allison?”

The sound intensified. A minute later, he came face-to-face with Allison, who looked as if she'd tussled with a wild boar and lost. Dark splotches marred her cream blouse and rose-colored skirt. A hank of hair had escaped its pins and fell directly over her left eyebrow and cheek. Although her features were taut with exhaustion, he recognized her expression of determination.

“Ben's not here.”

“I'm not looking for my deputy.”

The red-faced baby in her arms noticed his presence and immediately lunged toward him, taking both adults by surprise. Shane caught Charlie around the ribs and, his heart lurching with something wondrous, hugged him tight. The baby's fussing ceased as he burrowed closer.

He set the small basket he'd brought inside the doorway.

“What's wrong with him?” Shane said over the crying coming from the kitchen.

Shooting him an enigmatic look, she whirled and headed for the other room. “I haven't yet ascertained the problem. It's been a rough morning.”

Shane closed the door and followed her. Maybe instead of dropping Fenton off at an old acquaintance's home for a visit, he should've brought him here. When he voiced those thoughts aloud, she dismissed them, saying he could use the break.

Making soothing noises to Izzy, who was in her makeshift high chair, Allison picked her up and swiped at the tear tracks. “Shh, my darling. It's going to be okay.”

Izzy's brown eyes communicated her misery.

Charlie sniffled. Resting his cheek against Shane's chest, he began to suck his thumb. “Has he done that before?”

“Done what?” She tilted her head to try and dislodge the hair so she could see clearly. Izzy latched on to it and yanked. “Ouch.”

Without thinking, Shane shifted closer and gently pried Izzy's fingers loose. “That hurts, sweetheart. Can't do that.”

Suddenly he had two pairs of female eyes on him. Allison's fruity scent wound about him, erecting dangerous memories of their embrace. Memories he couldn't shake, no matter how long he avoided her.

Allison looped the stray lock behind her ear and averted her gaze.

“Has Charlie sucked his thumb before?”

She looked at the boy in surprise. “I haven't seen him do it, no. It could be a new behavior or something we missed in our brief time with them.”

“What should we do?” he asked, intimidated by the massive amount of information he didn't know about infants.

“None of George's kids sucked their thumbs. The youngest has a penchant for sucking on his lower lip, and there's nothing we can do to prevent him. We should ask Fenton if this is a new behavior.”

“He's left you alone with them a lot.”

Her chin lifted. “It may not look like it, but I'm faring okay. They slept most of the night through.” Caressing Izzy's curls, she said, “It's possible they're cutting teeth, and their gums are hurting.”

“I didn't mean to imply you're not up to the challenge. You're a capable caretaker. It's just that you've had the sole responsibility since we returned to town. This is your holiday, remember?”

The kids were quiet now that they were being held. “That's right. It is my holiday, and I can spend it any way I choose.” She speared him with a searching look. “Why did you come by if not to look for Ben?”

“You've had a telegram and a letter from George.”
And I needed to see you.
He'd missed her in the brief time he'd stayed away...a troubling development. He wasn't supposed to get used to having her around.

He managed to get both out of his coat pocket without upsetting Charlie.

Her face lit up. “Wonderful! What does the telegram say?”

“It's addressed to you.”

She shifted Izzy so she could take them. Worrying her lip as she scanned the telegram's message, her fleeting smile put him at ease. “He's set to arrive next Monday.”

“Plenty of time to take part in Christmas festivities.”

George's arrival would provide the remedy for Shane's current problem. Allison would be occupied by her family. Shane would no longer be obligated to keep tabs on her. The anticipated relief didn't come.

Allison's expression grew guarded, one that didn't fit the woman he knew her to be. Anxiety punched him in the gut. Whatever was on her mind was serious.

“There's something you and my brother need to know. It will be easier if I deal with you one at a time.”

“Tell me.”

“Fenton has asked if I would assume legal guardianship of the twins, and I'm considering it.”

“What?” Shane couldn't have heard right.

Charlie shifted in his arms, and he patted his back. He had the inane thought that he shouldn't be comfortable comforting a baby, shouldn't feel as if standing in a kitchen with Allison and a set of needy infants was commonplace.

“He had an episode.” Her eyes churned with disquiet. “The third one since Letty died. It scared me, Shane. The doctor warned him that his health will continue to deteriorate if he continues as he has been. He doesn't wish to give them up, but he's a practical man.”

Fenton hadn't mentioned the episode or Doc Owens's diagnosis. “I understand how you feel, but you can't agree because you feel sorry for them.”

“I'm not sure you do understand. You don't want a family, Shane. I do. These children need a mother, and I am willing and able to provide for them.”

“You sound as if you've already made up your mind.”

Lowering her gaze, she planted a kiss on Izzy's head. “I know what I want. I'm trying to be sensible, however, and consider all the ramifications. This is one of the most important decisions of my life. It will affect more than just myself.” Besides the challenge in her gaze, he detected a hint of vulnerability. “I don't expect you to approve. I simply thought you should know.”

Using his foot to hook the nearest chair's leg, he scooted it from beneath the table and sank into it.

“If you agree to Fenton's request, there'll be no turning back. No changing your mind.”

“I know.”

Charlie was starting to get antsy. Shane sat him on his knee and bounced him. The baby gnawed on his fist, trying unsuccessfully to push the whole thing inside his mouth.

“What about Trevor?”

She frowned. “What about him?”

“Could this affect your chances with him?”

“As I said before, Trevor and I don't have an understanding. I haven't yet agreed to let him come courting. Besides, if he doesn't have it in his heart to love Izzy and Charlie, then I don't want him in my life.”

Shane stared out the kitchen window at the pastel blue sky. Weak sunlight did little to dispel the frigid temperatures. The thought of Allison and the twins making a home with a stranger made him ill.

“So Trevor isn't an issue. What about George? Your brother isn't going to react well. He'll throttle us both.”

“It's my decision. You have nothing to do with this.”

“You're wrong,” he snorted. “With him in Virginia, it was my responsibility to keep you out of trouble.”

The second the words left his mouth, he realized his mistake. Allison wasn't one to lose her temper often, but when she did—better duck for cover. Her entire body went rigid. Red flags appeared in her cheeks, and her eyes had a wild look about them. The only thing saving him from flying dishes was the twins' presence.

“I am an adult,” she bit out. “I am perfectly capable of
staying out of trouble
with no help from you, thank you very much.”

“Allie, sweetheart—” He stopped as she became more incensed.

“Sweetheart?”
Advancing, she stood over him, pinning him with a fierce glare. “How dare you call me that, Shane Timmons!”

He stopped bouncing Charlie. “It was a slip—”

“You returned my kiss. You're as attracted to me as I am to you. You'd be lying if you tried to deny it. But you've decided that bachelorhood is what you want. I'm not going to try and dissuade you from that course. I
respect
your decision. As a friend, you owe me the same courtesy.”

He'd never seen her so upset. He captured her wrist. “I'm sorry. I worded that wrong.”

Her eyes swam with tears. “I'm not your friend, though, am I? I tried a hundred different ways to be, and you rebuffed me at every turn. Meanwhile, my brother practically ignored you, and you decided he was worthy of your time. Is it because I cared? Would you have acted differently if I'd treated your arrival in my household with disdain?”

Hurt and confusion radiated off her. His heart beat out a painful rhythm. “You know my past is complicated. I never intended to hurt you—”

Izzy whimpered. The tense atmosphere in the room likely wasn't conducive to happy babies.

Wiggling free of his hold, she edged closer to the stove. “You should go.”

Anything he said right now would be wrong. “Fine.” Standing, he carried the baby into the living room and situated him in one of the seats on the rug. Charlie grunted his disagreement. He waved his arms at Shane.

“Be a good boy for Allison.” Patting his blond head, Shane fetched the basket he'd brought. “This is for you.”

Her brows collided. “What is it?”

“Popcorn. For the tree.”

“I'll repay you—”

“Consider it a late welcome-to-town gift.” Striding for the door, he hesitated with his hand on the knob. He turned in time to glimpse a single tear snake down her cheek. His insides churned with guilt. “I'll go because you asked me to, but just so you know—this conversation isn't over.”

* * *

“He was aimin' to poison my cattle, Sheriff!” Vernon Oakley jabbed a finger toward the man standing behind Shane. “Arrest him!”

Eddie Buchanan spat in the dirt, calmer than his neighbor and lifelong adversary. “This is the last time I'm gonna say it—I ain't done nothin' of the sort. Ought to check your facts before you go accusin' a man.”

Vernon's young son—Shane guessed him to be about ten—waited inside the barn entrance, his face screwed up like a prune. The boy knew something. He just wasn't talking.

Shane's visit to Allison's place that morning seemed like a lifetime ago. Once he'd returned to town, he'd been drawn into one fiasco after another. One couple refused to pay for their meal at the Plum Café. A trio of youths who'd been playing chase on Main Street had knocked over a stand of Christmas trees for sale. The elderly widow, Mrs. Carson, who lived on the edge of town and regularly lodged complaints, insisted a mountain lion had invaded her chicken coop and what was Shane planning to do about it? The list went on. He'd eaten lunch on the go, a meager hunk of ham wedged between two slices of bread, and he hadn't gotten around to a proper supper. He was hungry and cranky and ready for this day to see its end.

Vernon's boy scuffed the ground with his boot. Dirt streaked his lean cheeks. “Pa?”

“Not now,” Vernon growled, his gaze never leaving Eddie's.

Shane's thoughts turned to Allison and the twins. What would Charlie be like at this age? Would he have a kind, caring man for a father? Someone who'd teach him right from wrong, teach him to hunt and fish and what it means to be a valuable citizen of the community? Or would he have a man who ignored him...or worse?

Standing between the arguing men, Shane was too distracted to see the fist flying through the air. The blow stunned him. The force of it knocked him to the ground. He lay there a few seconds, his right eye throbbing and a headache blossoming behind his temples, pondering how he could've wound up on the Oakleys' barn floor.

Above him, the neighbors' temporary silence exploded into accusations.

“Now look what you done!”

“It wouldn't have happened if you'd left my cows alone!”

The boy crouched in front of him. “You need some help, Sheriff?”

“I can manage.”

Shane levered himself up. He could feel his temper straining to be unleashed. Not once in his career had he lost focus in the middle of a volatile situation. As he dusted dirt and straw from his pant legs, the two men eyed him with a mixture of awe and trepidation.

This account was going to travel through the mountains like a hound on the hunt. For the first time, he'd allowed his personal problems to interfere with his job. He had one Allison Ashworth to thank for that. His fingers balled into fists.

“Sheriff—”

“Stop talking,” he growled. “I don't want to hear another word out of either of you.” To Buchanan, he said, “Get on your horse, go home and don't come back.”

“Yes, sir.” Hands held up in surrender, he shuffled backward until he reached the entrance. Yanking the door open, he slipped into the darkness.

“You.”

Vernon retreated a step at the threat in Shane's voice. “For the sake of your family, pretend the Buchanans are on holiday until after the new year. Understand?”

His lips pressing together, he jerked a short nod.

“If you have any problems, you come to me. You do not initiate contact with your neighbor on your own.”

He nodded again.

Shane switched his attention to the boy. “You got something on your mind, son?”

With a quick glance at his pa, he said, “I saw something.”

“When?”

“Earlier tonight.”

Sensing his unease, Shane said, “You can tell me. Your pa wants to know the truth of what happened, don't you, Vernon?”

Looking unhappy but resigned, Vernon waved for him to continue. “Tell the sheriff what you saw, Billy.”

“I was in the smokehouse when I heard someone talking. It was a voice I didn't recognize, so I came out to see who was out there. I know it wasn't Mr. Buchanan.”