The Sheriff's Christmas Twins (20 page)

The need to hold the boy overtook him. He held out his arms. “Let me.”

The baby came to him without complaint, his pudgy fingers fisting in Shane's collar. Charlie's fine hair tickled his cheek. Shane began to walk along the hall, passing Fenton's closed door first and then Matilda's. Was she comfortable in the warm bed? Or was she wide awake, alert to her unfamiliar surroundings?

Allison leaned against the railing, crossed her arms and silently watched his progression.

After a couple of turns, he worked up the nerve to speak what was on his mind. “I apologize for earlier. I jumped to conclusions. Despite evidence to the contrary, I do trust your judgment.”

Her expression was unreadable. “Apology accepted.”

He continued walking, and Charlie drooled on his shirt. When he came near again, she murmured, “What are her options? If Harold consents to give her up, I mean.”

Moving beside her, he spoke in hushed tones so as not to be overheard if the little girl was awake in her room. “Possibly find a local family to take her in.”

The corners of her mouth turned down. “But not as a means to get free labor, right? You'd find a family who wants her to be an important part of their lives? Maybe a couple who hasn't been able to have children on their own.”

“I'll do my best.”

Allison angled toward him. “I don't like the sound of that. I want you to promise me, Shane.”

“I can't do that. Trust me, I will do everything in my power to find her a good home.”

“Why don't you take her in?”

His chin met his chest. “
Me?
What do I know about adolescent girls?”

Preposterous.
How could she suggest it?

“You can relate to her in a way few others can. You understand how she feels and what she requires to feel safe.” Her gaze implored him to see things her way. “You can give her security, guidance and love—the kind of childhood you never had.”

He shook his head, actively rejecting her reasoning. Failure loomed like a crouching mountain lion ready to pounce and devour him. He knew how to be a lawman: how to manage disputes, investigate arson and murders, track outlaws and effect daring rescues. Home life, family relationships,
love
...those weren't part of his language. Never had been.

Despair invaded him. “I'm not like you, Allison. I don't have what it takes to be a family man.”

She opened her mouth to argue, so he handed a sleepy Charlie to her.

“There's no use trying to change me, Allie. You'll have to accept that some things are simply not meant to be.”

Chapter Twenty

“G
eorge!” Allison squealed and threw her arms about his neck. His familiar shaving soap suffused her senses. She didn't care that Main Street was bustling with shoppers and holiday deliveries and that Shane was looking on, awaiting his turn to greet her brother. “I'm so happy you're here at last,” she breathed into his itchy plaid scarf.

Laughing his hearty laugh, George pulled back, his expression slightly quizzical. “You act as if it's been a year since you've seen me.”

“Believe me, it feels like an entire year has passed since I arrived.”

He gave her an odd look.

Dressed in a bulky wool coat and smart gray bowler hat, he looked the same as always—his round, boyish face with lively bluish-gray eyes like their father's and thinning brown hair. Perhaps her great relief at seeing him had to do with the emotional ups and downs of the past weeks. He represented home and normalcy.

Shane chose that moment to step forward, gloved hand outstretched and a welcoming smile on his face. “George Ashworth. It's been too long.”

Allison edged out of their way. George gripped Shane's hand, pumped it several times and pulled him in for a brief hug. Around them, people stared and whispered on their walk along the boardwalk.

“I can't express how wonderful it is to see you, old friend.” Glancing about at the festooned storefronts and the majestic mountain peaks towering over the town, he said, “You've chosen a right beautiful place to settle, I see.”

“It is at that.”

“What happened to your eye?”

“Got in the middle of an altercation between neighbors.” He shrugged.

George gestured to Allison. “She give you any trouble?”

Shane's smile slipped. Not looking at her, he quipped, “No more than I expected.”

George's thick brows crinkled. “What have you been up to, sister?”

Suddenly, explaining the huge life change she was about to undertake struck her as a daunting task. In her mind's playing out of events, George's reaction to her news had gone smoothly. Leaving the twins at home with Fenton had been a wise choice. It would give her time to sort through her speech and gather the courage to deliver it.

Instead of answering him, Allison peered around him at the stagecoach. “George, where's Clarissa and the children?”

He smoothed his mustache. “I'm afraid they aren't coming. George Jr. came down with a cough and fever earlier in the week. She didn't want to risk traveling with him.”

Allison masked her disappointment. “Of course. I would've made the same decision.”

He patted her arm. “I'm sorry, but I can't stay for Christmas. I'll be here through the week, and then I'll have to return home.”

“Not staying for Christmas?”

“The kids would be devastated if I wasn't there to see them open their presents,” he said.

She shifted her gaze to the narrow alleyway beside the post office, where a pair of young lads were petting a calico cat. “Yes, I know.”

“Will you be returning with me?”

She sensed the immediate shift in Shane's posture, the intensity of his full focus on her. What did he want her answer to be? Was he ready to bid her goodbye? Or was there a small part of him that wished she'd stay?

“I'll have to give the matter some thought,” she demurred.

One week. She wasn't prepared to leave that soon. She'd counted on attending the Christmas Eve pageant. And now with Matilda in their lives—the search party hadn't yet located Harold Douglas—she'd started planning a lavish Christmas morning breakfast complete with gifts for the orphaned girl. And what about Fenton? She'd developed a deep well of affection for the older man. Taking the twins away sooner than planned wouldn't be fair.

Then there was the one piece of unfinished business to tend to—paying the Whitakers a visit. She'd wrestled with Fenton's request, unsure if she should fulfill it. They'd already decided to cut Izzy and Charlie from their lives. What good would it do for her to revisit the issue?

Pushing the troubling thoughts from her mind, she linked arms with George as they followed Shane to the wagon. “I know what we'll do. We'll host a party. You'll have the opportunity to meet Shane's friends and a few of the acquaintances I've made.”

George considered the idea. “What do you say, Shane?”

Stowing her brother's single trunk in the wagon bed, Shane turned, his breath creating a fog in the crisp air. “I say let Allison have her party. She usually gets whatever she sets her mind to, anyway.”

Her brother looked at them both as if working out a puzzle. Uh-oh. While he didn't usually intrude into her personal affairs, she wasn't sure how he'd react if he knew what had transpired between her and Shane.

“Oh, don't mind him,” she said airily. “He's playing the part of the grumpy lawman today.”

Shane stalked past them both and climbed into the wagon, leaving George to assist her. Unfortunately, she wound up sandwiched between the two and, because of their size, there wasn't an inch of free space on the narrow seat.

Hands folded tightly in her lap, she remained silent as they caught up, talking over her as if she was invisible. Not that she truly minded. Her mind was a whirlwind of unrest. Between the torturous closeness of Shane—she registered his every movement, smushed as she was against his shoulder, thigh and knee—the worry over the Whitakers and imparting her news to George, she was anxious to the point of being nauseated.

George appreciated the beauty of the Wattses' homestead as much as she did. Seeing the farmhouse and surrounding fields and mountains through his eyes, Allison acknowledged how much she'd miss this place. She would've taken great pleasure in seeing spring transform the land. And later, summer yielding its bounty. Perhaps when she brought the twins to see Fenton, she could pay the Wattses a visit.

Guiding the team to a halt alongside the porch, Shane set the brake and quickly disembarked. He strode to the rear and, untethering his horse, secured the animal to the hitching post.

He'd been distant the past few days. When he wasn't out doing his job, he divided his time between Fenton and the children. A couple of times she'd caught him staring, but she hadn't been able to decipher his thoughts. And she wasn't inclined to ask. Not after his stinging rebuke.

Before ascending the steps, Allison informed George that there were some people inside she'd like him to meet. At his unspoken question, she said, “I'll explain everything later.”

After introductions, Fenton greeted George with a toothy smile. “So you're Allison's brother. She's had nothing but high praise for you.”

George shook his hand. “That's a relief.” He chuckled. “Between living with me and working in the same building, she's bound to get tired of me.”

Shane strode past them, George's trunk wedged on his shoulder as he carried it upstairs.

George spotted Matilda, who was seated on the rug between the twins. The girl had formed a quick bond with the twins and took great pride in helping Allison and Fenton with them.

“And who might this beautiful young lady be?” Walking over, he bent to her level.

Her honey-brown eyes were huge. Watchful. “I'm Matilda Rose Douglas.”

“A pretty name to match its owner.” He nodded sagely. “I have a little girl at home, but she's a lot younger than you.” He switched his attention to the infants. “And who are these fine-looking babies? Your brother and sister?”

“No,” she said solemnly. After giving their names, she said, “Miss Allison is their guardian.”

George was silent a beat. Then, twisting slightly, he looked at her with a world of inquiry in his eyes. Allison twisted her fingers into knots. She felt like such a coward all of a sudden.

Fenton stepped forward. “Izzy and Charlie are my great-grandchildren. Their ma recently passed, and your sister has been helping me care for them.”

“I see.” His gaze promised this wasn't the end of the conversation.

Shane returned to the living room. Fenton pointed to the mistletoe not far from where he stood. “Still got all its berries, Sheriff. Something's wrong if you need an old man to remind you to take advantage of the moment.”

Color climbed up his neck. “I don't need any reminders, thank you,” he gritted.

George went over and clapped him on the back. “That's one thing I failed to ask you about. Are there any romantic prospects on the horizon? Perhaps some pretty mountain filly who's caught your eye?”

Allison's midsection tightened further. She backed toward the door. “I—I believe I forgot something in the wagon. I'll return in a moment.”

Sagging against the closed door, she relished the bracing air washing over her. The distant chatter of birds greeted her, as did the lowing of cattle. In Norfolk, she'd be greeted with the blowing of ships' horns, seagulls' crying and horses' hooves clattering against the cobblestones.

She descended the steps and wandered away from the house with no particular direction in mind. A quarter of an hour later, George found her in the barn.

“Allison? What are you doing out here?”

Stroking the horse's strong neck one last time, she faced him, silently offering up a request for divine strength. His stocky frame outlined by the entrance, he gave the small structure's interior a cursory inspection before returning his gaze to her.

“What are you hiding from, my dear?” he said.

“You.”

“Excuse me?” He tugged on his earlobe. “I'm quite certain I must have clogged ears.”

She took a deep breath. “A lot has happened since I arrived. Amazing, wondrous things. I couldn't have predicted any of it.”

Serious now, he came closer. “You've piqued my curiosity. What sort of things?”

“I need for you to listen with an open mind.”

“Go on.”

“I always thought I'd get married young. I thought...” She pressed a hand to her throat as her voice grew scratchy. “I assumed by the time I reached thirty that I'd have four or five children and more on the way. As it turns out, I was wrong.”

He tilted his head to the side as their father had done, which made her even more emotional. “There's time enough for children, Allison. You just have to give some poor fellow a chance at winning you.”

“I don't need a husband in order to have children.”

He let that sink in. “What Matilda said was true, then? About the twins?”

“It's not official, of course. I have to visit a lawyer when I return to Norfolk. However, Fenton has asked me to adopt them, and I agreed.”

Allison held her breath as he paced the straw-covered ground. At one point, he removed his hat and smoothed his hand over his balding head.

“Aren't you going to say something?” she demanded.

Halting, he said, “I'm trying to figure out what Father's response would've been.”

“Father took in Shane, didn't he? He taught us to act out the Bible's teachings. He said that authentic love was more than mere words, remember?”

“He was a widower when he took Shane in.”

“Why is that important?”

“He'd experienced marriage and had decided he didn't wish to remarry. What if, by taking them in, your prospects become limited?”

“You sound like Shane. I didn't mention it, but I've been considering setting up my own residence for quite some time. Long before I came here.”

“You're not happy at the estate? Have we done something?”

“No!” Going to him, she clutched his arms. “George, I've adored sharing a home with you and your family. Can't you understand how important it is to me to have one of my own?”

His eyes searched hers. “You'll be a fine mother to those kids.” His voice was noticeably gruff.

With an exclamation of relief, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed his smooth cheek. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

She released him. “For believing in me.”

A throat cleared behind them, and Shane entered. “Sorry for interrupting. Fenton sent me to tell you he has potato soup and cornbread ready if either of you are hungry.”

George patted his stomach. “I could eat. What about you, sis?”

“Not just yet.” Her emotions were still running high.

When George started for the door, she hung back, intending to remain in the barn alone. She was surprised to hear Shane say he'd be along later. He'd been avoiding her for days. What could he possibly want?

* * *

Shane waited until he was sure George was gone. “You told him of your intentions?”

“I did.”

Allison's wary expression reminded him of how folks who were distrustful of the law regarded him. He missed her shining eyes. Her bright smile. This was proof he hadn't a clue what he was doing when it came to relationships. He'd pushed her away again, like he had countless times in their youth, and it felt both familiar and wrong.

Having the siblings here together had unleashed memories of the past, memories he'd fought to keep contained, not only because they reminded him of the desperate-to-protect-himself boy he'd once been but because of all those times he'd hurt Allison. She'd been such a sweet, pure-hearted girl. Her only crime had been attempting to be his friend.

The expression she was wearing now took him back to those days, and he was amazed that David hadn't banished him for his bad behavior. The mere idea of anyone making Matilda sad, or Izzy or Charlie, made his blood boil.

He advanced and, instead of taking her hand like he was tempted to, turned to pet the horse. “He's not angry?”

“Not at all. He didn't say as much, but I know he has reservations.”

“George loves you and wants nothing but good for you.”

Shane paused in stroking the soft mane.
He
wanted Allison to be happy. In the deepest parts of him, he acknowledged that he'd do anything, sacrifice anything, to ensure her safety and well-being. That didn't mean he loved her, though. Did it?