The Sheriff's Christmas Twins (26 page)

“Aren't you going to ask why?” His deputy had dressed up for the service, his unruly hair tamed into submission.

“Nope.”

Shane focused once more on the rear alcove to his left, unwillingly searching for Allison. Would she show? Or would she stay away because she dreaded seeing him? He'd feel even guiltier if he caused her to miss the highlight of the season.

“I haven't had the opportunity to see you like this before.” His green eyes danced. “For a while there, I suspected you weren't quite human. You were so controlled. So perfect. Then Allison Ashworth came to town, and suddenly you developed normal emotions. Glad to see you're like the rest of us common folk.”

“Perfect? Me?”

Serious now, he said, “You're the finest lawman I've ever known.”

“I'm only the second one you've worked with.”

“No need to compare you to anyone else. I aspire to reach your standards. If I do, I know I've done my best for the folks of this town.”

Shane looked out over the crowd, not really seeing any one individual as he processed his deputy's praise. He hadn't known Ben saw him as someone to model himself after.

“You do a fine job,” he said gruffly. “Proud to work with ya.”

Ben's wide grin reappeared. “I appreciate that, boss.”

Unused to doling out praise, he pushed off the wall and gestured to the exit. “I'm going to take a walk around outside.”

“I'll keep an eye on things in here.”

Shane strode to the alcove. Rounding the corner, he almost collided with Allison, who had Izzy in her arms.

“Sorry,” he rushed out, steadying her with a hand at her elbow. Her light, tantalizing scent washed over him, making him ache clear down to his boot soles. Her hair was a shining braid-halo about her head, and she was wearing that cranberry outfit that made him think of snowy mornings and hot cocoa and marital bliss. “Wasn't watching where I was going...” He trailed off as his gaze intercepted the young man behind her. “Allison?”

“Clyde's here at my request,” she said stiffly. “Be nice.”

Clyde met Shane's glower with an unflinching perusal of his own. He looked too natural carrying Charlie. Didn't they look like the proper family?

“Let's find a seat, shall we?” Allison directed over her shoulder. Her wide green eyes swerved to him. “Would you mind, Sheriff?”

He realized he was blocking their way and had caused a line to form behind them. Stung by her distant manner, he edged back.
You brought this on yourself, Timmons.

They walked past him. A small, mitten-encased hand slipped into his. Matilda smiled tentatively up at him. “It's Christmas Eve, Sheriff.”

“That it is.” He tapped her nose. “You must be getting anxious to open your gifts.”

“There are four with my name on them!” Her eyes shone.

Allison had bought her another dress, he noted. This one was crafted of floaty, pristine white fabric and accented with a bright red sash about her waist. Her short hair had been combed to a high shine and adorned with a matching ribbon. She was flourishing in Allison's household.

“Any guesses what they might be?”

Her brow wrinkled. “I'm not sure. Maybe a new scarf or hat. Miss Allison likes pretty things.”

His gaze involuntarily slid to the last pew nearest them. She and Clyde were engaged in what looked to be a serious discussion. Concern warred with the need to act. But she didn't seem to require his interference. Her lovely countenance exuded determination.

“Sheriff?”

“Hmm?”

“Know what I want most for Christmas?”

The hope in Matilda's eyes socked him in the gut. He'd failed her, just like he'd failed Allison. He'd allowed his worries over Allison and the twins to eclipse this little girl's very real and urgent need.

Tugging her aside, he crouched to her level. “I think I have an idea.”

“I want to live with Allison and the twins.”

Lord, give me wisdom.
Gingerly smoothing a hank of hair behind her ear, he strove to reason with her. “Sweetheart, we've talked about this before.”

She bounced with excitement. “Miss Allison's not going back to Virginia. She's gonna live right here. Mr. Whitaker asked her to stay in town, and she said yes.”

His breath froze in his lungs. “Are you certain?”

“I overheard them talking this afternoon. Isn't it wonderful?”

Chapter Twenty-Six

S
urely Matilda had misheard. As the congregation's voices lifted to the rafters in a reverent rendition of “Silent Night,” Shane wasn't singing. His attention was on Allison and Clyde. Standing side by side, the babies in their arms, they appeared at ease in each other's company. A telling clue. They must've come to an agreement. Could it be marriage?

A roar of protest built inside him. He thrust his fingers through his hair, tugging at the ends. Allison was meant to marry for love. But if Clyde had issued an ultimatum, she wouldn't hesitate. She'd do it for Izzy and Charlie.

Shucking his suit jacket, he draped it over the hard-backed chair shoved against the back wall. It was roasting in the church's confines. He could find relief outside, but something kept him here. A penchant for torment, he supposed.

On Allison's other side, Matilda sang along, occasionally twisting around to look at him. Fenton was on the end, dapper in his black pants, white shirt and a bow tie that had to be a gift from Allison. Like Shane, the old man wasn't singing, but he looked content for someone who eschewed town life.

That was Allison's doing. The woman possessed an incredible ability to draw others in, to care and nurture and offer her whole self without asking for anything in return. In a few short weeks, she'd created a ragtag family, one he'd give anything to be a part of.
He
was supposed to be by her side, supporting her, loving her. Not Clyde. Not some faceless Norfolk businessman. Him.

The song ended, and the people resumed their seats. Clyde murmured something, and Allison smiled.

That smile pierced Shane's heart. How was he supposed to stand by and watch her hand her life and love over to another man? And if Matilda was mistaken, and Allison was planning to leave Tennessee, how could he survive her absence? Everything in him rebelled. He couldn't go back to his former way of living. Couldn't face that bleak existence.

He loved her. More than that, he needed her in his life. But after everything that had happened between them, would Allison be willing to give him a chance to show her how he felt?

Megan directed the children to take their places. As scores of other children had before them, they portrayed Mary and Joseph's welcoming of the Christ child, events that changed the course of mankind. His thoughts shifted to Jesus's purpose, His plan and, ultimately, His forgiveness.

Shane's father and mother had acted despicably. They hadn't sought forgiveness from their only child. But by withholding it, the only person he was harming was himself. What had a lifetime of resentment gained him? Fear and bitterness, that's what. The good people of Gatlinburg thought he was courageous, when, in fact, he was afraid of a lot of things. Not the usual things, like outlaws and violence, but things common to everyone—love, family, relationships.

I need Your help, Father. I want to let go of the past, but I can't do it alone.

He was still pacing and praying when the program ended. Those in attendance started gathering their things, and he noticed Matilda had fallen asleep. Threading through those already making their way to the exit, he greeted Fenton and, ignoring Clyde, sought Allison's gaze.

The moment she saw him, her features grew guarded. Sadness filled him. He could only blame himself.

“Want me to carry her to the wagon?”

Shifting Izzy to her other shoulder, she glanced at the sleeping girl. “Yes, please.”

While she and Clyde took the lead, Shane hung back with Fenton. Matilda was a slight weight in his arms.

He sensed Fenton's perusal as they traversed the grassy churchyard. “What's on your mind, son?”

His gaze glued to the couple yards ahead of them, he said, “Why didn't you send for me when Whitaker showed up?”

“He was there when I went down for breakfast this morning. She had it handled.”

“She doesn't need me,” he murmured without thinking.

“Allison is a strong woman, that's true. She can do a lot of things on her own. Still needs you, though.”

Shane was accustomed to helping people in tangible ways—rebuilding after a fire, searching for lost possessions, getting injured folks to the doctor. While he was confident in his abilities as a lawman, this thing with Allison was different. He didn't know how to go about being one half of a relationship, whether it be as a suitor or fiancé or husband.

“Are they getting married?”

“Is that why you're walking around like a coonhound without his mate?” His eyes reflected amused shock. “The boy's nine years younger than her.”

“He's a man, not a boy, and you know it. Plenty old enough to marry.”

His amusement faded, and Shane knew he was thinking of his granddaughter. “As far as I know, he's given her permission to raise the twins. But she has to live here. I ain't heard no talk of marriage.”

Shane fell silent as they neared the wagon, waiting until the babies were situated before settling Matilda in the back. Allison thanked him but offered nothing more.

Shane touched her arm. “We need to talk.”

“You're right, we do. About Matilda's future.”

“Among other things,” he said. “Can I come over tomorrow?”

She hesitated. “Tomorrow's Christmas.”

That she didn't wish to spend her most favorite day with him hurt. “The day after, then.”

Her eyes went soft. “Do you have someone to spend Christmas with?”

“The O'Malleys.”

“Good. I'm glad you won't be alone.” Sincerity rang from her voice. “Good night, Shane.”

Watching her climb onto the seat and ride off with her makeshift family, he felt like the loneliest man in the world.

“Merry Christmas, Allie.”

* * *

“Thanks for including me, Allison.”

Midafternoon on Christmas Day, hat in hand, Clyde's gaze swept the room a final time. The woolen scarf she'd given him—yet another gift meant for a friend in Norfolk and needed here instead—was wound about his neck. His humble surprise and gratitude over the simple gesture had brought tears to her eyes. He hadn't received much in the way of kindness in his home, she'd surmised. The decision to stay in Gatlinburg was the right one. Clyde's affection for his children was undeniable. After spending the past two days in his company, she had no doubt the twins would benefit from knowing their father.

After he'd gone, she began to pick up discarded ribbons and strips of plain brown wrapping paper. The twins were asleep upstairs, worn out after a full day of being entertained by Clyde and Matilda. Matilda was in her room, likely enjoying the book Allison had bought her. While her reading proficiency needed improving, she seemed content to pore over the many drawings until Allison or Fenton had time to read the story to her.

Allison paused before the tree and fingered a popcorn strand, remembering the brief bursts of happiness she'd experienced with Shane. Making snow angels. Crafting paper ornaments. Sharing dessert and cocoa on a deserted mountainside.

They could have tons more moments together, if only...

She lowered her hand, despondency dimming the joy of the day. Allison had played the
if only
game most of her life, ever since a fourteen-year-old boy had arrived and stolen her heart
.
It had to stop. She had to accept what was and forget dreaming about a reality that wasn't going to materialize.

God had granted her dearest wish—a family of her own. That Shane wasn't included caused her great sorrow. It was something she was going to have learn to live with. Perhaps someday in the distant future she'd be able to walk down Main Street and greet him without her heart splintering into pieces.

Taking the stack of paper and ribbons into the dining room, she deposited everything in the corner and turned to the table laden with leftovers. Without Fenton, they would've feasted on bread and cheese for Christmas dinner.

Through the windows, she heard male voices. Thinking Clyde had lingered to speak to Fenton, she didn't bother to investigate. She had carried a stack of dishes into the kitchen when she heard a rap on the main door.

Hurrying through to the living room, she swung it open. “Did you forget something?”

“Hi, Allie.” His husky voice washed over like warm caramel.

“Shane.”

His tall frame filled her vision. Dressed more formally than usual, he had on his cream-colored Stetson, camel-hued suit coat and a navy vest and shirt that molded to his broad chest.

“I know you preferred that I wait until tomorrow, but I have gifts to deliver.” He indicated the bulging pillowcase thrown over his shoulder.

“The shops aren't open today.”

His mouth curved into a tentative smile. “I did my shopping early.”

Flustered, she retreated. He entered, his gaze lingering but a moment before sliding away. His presence seemed to shrink the room as he lined the paper-wrapped gifts on the coffee table. She studied his suntanned, capable-looking hands and wished she could latch on and not let go.

She smoothed her hair and hoped there weren't bits of mashed potatoes in the strands. “Izzy and Charlie are asleep, but I can get Matilda for you. Fenton's in the barn.”

“How about I go and get him while you find Matilda?”

There was an earnestness about him that threw her off-kilter. Allison couldn't pinpoint what exactly was different. His mouth was softer, the lines of tension that usually bracketed it gone, and his eyes were brighter.

She gave her head a little shake.
You're being fanciful. Perhaps he's merely had a good day visiting with his friends. It is Christmas, after all. No doubt it's one of the most relaxing days of the year for a lawman. Folks were busy feasting and celebrating.

“All right. I'll meet you back here.”

With a half grin, he nodded and let himself out. Why was he so lighthearted all of the sudden?

When Matilda saw Shane, she threw herself in his arms. “Merry Christmas, Sheriff!”

His face relaxed further into full-blown affection. Ruffling her hair, he murmured, “Merry Christmas, Matilda.”

Allison fought off the emotions threatening to overwhelm her. Shane handed out the gifts. Matilda didn't hesitate to tear into hers. Fenton sat on the sofa, watching with obvious pleasure. Like the other adults, he'd grown fond of the little girl.

“Look what I got!” she exclaimed, showing off her assortment of peppermint sticks, hair ribbons and a set of marbles and jacks.

When he came to stand before Allison, he shot her a mock grimace. “What do you get the woman who has everything?”

Not everything
, she wanted to protest. Opening the box, she gasped at the delicate garnet brooch nestled in creamy fabric.

“Do you like it?” he said, a furrow between his brows. “I couldn't decide between one that matched your eyes and this one. The red color put me in mind of Christmas, and I know how much you adore this time of year.”

“It's exquisite.” She removed it to get a closer look. “I'll treasure it. Thank you, Shane.”

With a grave nod, he slipped his hands in his pockets, watching closely as she pinned it to her bodice.

“How does it look?”

“Perfect.” But he wasn't looking at the jewelry. He was looking at
her
.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” Allison brushed past him and retrieved those packages remaining beneath the tree. “These are for you,” she told him.

Matilda crowded close as he opened them. He seemed pleased by the gifts—new gloves and a shaving set—and touched that they'd thought of him.

When he saw what was inside the box from her, his smile widened in surprise. “These are great, Allie.”

“When I saw your journal collection, I sent George a letter and asked him to bring the latest editions.”

She'd also tasked her brother with choosing a leather wallet for Shane and engraving his initials on it. He took his time inspecting it, his blunt fingers running along the smooth leather. His azure gaze brushed hers. “Thank you.”

“I'll pass your thanks on to George. He picked it out.”

“I have another gift for you, but I'm afraid I left it at home.” He spoke with his gaze downcast, his long lashes obscuring her view.

“Another one? The brooch is more than enough.” And no doubt had cost him many weeks' earnings.

Neatly laying his gifts aside, he stood and addressed her, the teeniest bit of stiffness entering his tone. “Will you come with me to get it?”

“Now?”

“Yes. Please.”

“I don't know...the twins will wake up soon—”

“I'll see to Izzy and Charlie.” Fenton waved off her objection. “You don't wanna disappoint the sheriff on a day like today, do you?”

Having no choice but to agree, she went to gather her bonnet and cloak. Shane had her horse saddled by the time she went outside. He exuded a familiar tension, and she wondered at his strange mood. Perhaps this was a mistake. Spending time alone with him would only serve to intensify her misery.

She wouldn't address the matter today, but tomorrow they would have a serious discussion about how they would navigate life together in this small town.

The ride to his house was blessedly brief. Shane wasn't inclined to converse, and he seemed lost in a world she couldn't access. In the blustery December afternoon, his cabin struck her as isolated and sad.

The inside was unchanged. No decorations, not a single piece of greenery to denote the season. She tried to ignore the melancholy that arrowed through her.

Standing uncertainly in the middle of the chilly room, she waited as he tossed his gloves and hat on his bed. “Um, make yourself comfortable. You can hang your bonnet here.” He indicated a single hook by the door. “Your cloak, too, if you'd like.”

As she removed her bonnet and gloves, Shane went to the single hutch in the corner and riffled through the contents. Finally, he closed the cabinet doors and turned to her. She couldn't see what he held in his hand.