face devoid of emotion, he nodded and sipped his cider. “Josh is a skilled carpenter. You’ll have to visit his furniture store sometime.”
“I’d like that.”
Candles were handed out to the adults. When they were lit, the reverend’s wife led the gathering in the singing of several carols. The flickering lights created a pretty glow in the darkness, and the sound of male and female voices blending together and singing about their Savior sent chills cascading over her skin. This was a humble church in a tiny mountain town, yet she’d never experienced the same awed emotion.
Beside her, Shane was peculiarly silent. His candle aloft, he stared into the distance, his focus far from here. Was he remembering some terrible moment from his past? Another sad, disappointing Christmas?
She touched his sleeve. “I’m ready to leave if you are.”
He angled his head toward her, and it took a second for his gaze to clear. “Are you sure?”
Of course she wanted to stay, but she refused to be selfish when he was unhappy.
“I’m cold. I’d like to go back to the house and relax before a comforting fire.”
Taking her candle, he extinguished them both and, discarding them in a bin, led her past awaiting horses and wagons to where his was parked. As before, he cocooned her in the quilt, his movements efficient and impersonal but wreaking the same effect as the first time. She was so busy seeing to her niece’s and nephews’ needs that she’d forgotten what it felt like to experience a moment of cossetting herself.
“You were uncomfortable back there,” she ventured. “You don’t like when I question you about your past, but you didn’t say I couldn’t ask about your faith. Has your viewpoint altered since you left Virginia?”
He was quiet a long time. “I want to believe that the God who created all this beauty could love someone with a soul as tarnished as mine. I want to, but...”
“It’s hard for you to trust.” Anxious to say the right thing, she said, “No one deserves Christ’s love. Or His forgiveness. But because of His compassion and mercy, He extends it to us. It’s a free gift. We can’t earn it.”
“I’ve heard these same words many times.” The defeat in his voice disappointed her.
Why can’t you accept them as truth? “I’ve never stopped praying for you, Shane.”
His gaze swerved to her face, his shock evident. “I don’t know what to say except thank you. That you would take the time to pray for me...” He removed his hat and thrust a hand through the blond-brown strands.
“I won’t stop.” Her own voice grew thick. “You can count on that.”
Nodding, he didn’t utter another word. At the house, he set the brake and, after helping her down, started to climb the steps.
“You’re coming inside?” she blurted. “I can stoke the fireplaces without your help.”
He paused with one boot braced against the bottom step. It was impossible to make out his features in the porch shadows. “I thought I’d see to the task. Unless you don’t want me to.”
“That depends on your reasons,” she said evenly. “If you’re coming in because of some perceived duty, then the answer is no. I don’t need to be watched after. If you’re coming in because you’d like to share a cup of coffee and my company, then the answer is yes.”
His long-suffering sigh originated deep in his chest, and the tenuous bond born from her confession evaporated.
“I guess I have my answer.” She ascended the steps. “Good night, Sheriff.”
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