The Sheriff's Christmas Twins. Karen Kirst

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The Sheriff's Christmas Twins - Karen Kirst Mills & Boon Love Inspired Historical

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hill. Most of the trees were forlorn versions of themselves, their twisted branches bare, but plenty of pines and other evergreens were sprinkled throughout.

      She surveyed the team of fine-looking horses hitched to the wagon. Their giant hooves stamped the winter-hardened earth and their breaths created white clouds. At the stairs’ base, she took a moment to inspect the shops’ rear facades and the livery beside the mercantile.

      “Is this where the deliveries are made?”

      He nodded and, giving her a boost onto the high seat, circled the horses and climbed up beside her. “I thought this route would be less of a hassle.”

      “Meaning, you’d rather no one else see us together quite yet,” she retorted, old hurts rising to the surface.

      He grimaced. “You’ve no idea what small towns are like. Every bit of news is blown out of proportion. I can guarantee half the town will have us engaged by nightfall.”

      Engaged to Shane Timmons? A fluttering sensation flared in her middle, one she resolutely ignored. Once upon a time, she’d been enamored with this man and desperate for his approval—something he’d never offered.

      “You wouldn’t have to dodge their questions if you’d simply told them about us.”

      “I considered it.” With reins in hand, he called a sharp command and the conveyance jerked into motion. “My friends, the O’Malleys, know our history. I told them that I lived with you and George for a time.”

      “Do they know why?”

      His lips pursed. “Only that my mother couldn’t care for me.”

      “You mean wouldn’t.”

      His eyes turned stormy, and she regretted her words. She allowed herself to study his uncompromising jawline and the strong cords of his neck visible above his coat collar.

      He turned his head slightly. “What?”

      “Nothing. I’m simply adjusting to the fact that I’m actually here with you.”

      A vein in his temple throbbed.

      “Not here with you,” she amended. “Here in the same state. The same town, even. I wasn’t sure I’d ever see you again, to be honest. You weren’t planning to return to Virginia, were you?”

      “There’s nothing for me there.”

      Allison winced. One thing about Shane, he didn’t mince words to spare her feelings. “Your home is there.”

      “Ashworth House was not my home.”

      Because you wouldn’t let it be, she was tempted to retort.

      She could still recall the moment her father had relayed the news that a young employee of his, an orphan in desperate need of assistance, was coming to live with them. While George had been resistant to the idea, Allison had seen an opportunity to help someone less fortunate. She’d been excited about having another sibling. Older and of a serious bent, George was no longer interested in her childish pursuits. But then Shane moved in and it soon became apparent that he didn’t trust either of them. What Allison had never been able to fathom was why Shane had tolerated George, who did little to encourage a relationship, and yet rebuffed her attempts at friendship.

      During the five years that he lived with them, she’d tried to earn his confidence, a bit of her heart breaking with each fresh rejection. He hadn’t been unkind...just resolute in his indifference. Shane had tolerated her as if she were an annoying puppy begging for scraps of affection.

      Shane hadn’t liked her. It appeared he still didn’t.

      Ignoring the pinch of sadness, she resolved to make the best of her time in Tennessee. She was here for the month of December, the most exciting weeks of the entire year. She wasn’t about to let a surly lawman spoil her Christmas.

      He hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings. Shane noticed the resignation in her eyes before she averted her face. His commitment to speak the truth, a product of having lived with a drunken mother who’d thought nothing of making promises she didn’t intend to keep, sometimes made things difficult for others.

      He guided the horses onto a rutted lane flanked by trees. The prickly air stole beneath his collar, making him long for his office and a mountain-sized cup of hot coffee.

      “Why did you come alone?” he said.

      “That wasn’t my plan, trust me. A problem arose in our Riverside factory the evening before our departure, and George had to postpone his journey. He insisted I come on ahead so that you wouldn’t be disappointed.” She said that last bit with a touch of sarcasm. “He suggested Clarissa and the children come with me, but she preferred to wait and travel with him. She didn’t want to risk spending the holidays apart.”

      From George’s missives over the years, Shane had learned that his friend had married Clarissa Smothers. Their union was marked with respect, commitment and love. He was happy for George. If he experienced a twinge of envy whenever he read about their life together, he made sure not to dwell on it.

      That George had been delayed was not welcome news. He and his brood were supposed to provide a buffer. Without them, Shane had no choice but to interact with Allison. He’d be responsible for getting her settled, seeing to her comfort, entertaining her.

      “Did he say when he might arrive?”

      “He promised to right matters as quickly as possible and send a telegram letting us know his arrival date.”

      They traveled up a shallow incline. The Wattses’ farm came into view, and Allison sat up straighter, her lips parting at the sight. Satisfaction raced through him. He’d always admired this particular homestead. When he’d heard the owners would be spending their holiday in another state, he’d approached them about renting it for his visitors.

      Situated in the middle of a clearing, the white clapboard farmhouse with green shutters and shingled roof stood framed by forested hills that gave way to steep mountains. A fallow vegetable garden was situated on the right, a modest-sized barn behind that. The corncrib, smokehouse and toolshed had been built alongside a snake-and-rail fence.

      “Oh, Shane, this is such a charming place. How many bedrooms does it have?”

      “Four. George assured me that would be plenty.”

      “It will do nicely. The three older children will want to be together, and George Jr. will stay with his parents. Thank you for making the arrangements.”

      “The Wattses decided to spend this winter with their son and his family in South Carolina. They were pleased it wouldn’t be left empty.”

      He slowed the wagon to a halt directly in front of the house. Quickly descending, he walked to her side and helped her down, reminded again how he’d always towered over her, taller, bulkier, stronger. She’d complained about her diminutive stature and healthy figure, but compared to him, she was dainty. If he was of a mind to, he’d have no problem tossing her over his shoulder and carrying her about without working up a sweat.

      From

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