Free The Lawman's Christmas Wish by Linda Goodnight

she and Reed had been good friends. The ill-begotten proposal had raised a hedge between them and she missed the silly give-and-take they’d once shared.
    At her cheekiness, Reed grinned. Breath clogged in Amy’s chest. He scowled and grumbled at her so much, she’d forgotten about his killer grin.
    â€œCould.”
    â€œWhat’s the charge?” she asked, sipping at the hot, spicy drink.
    â€œResisting an officer. Disturbing the peace.”
    â€œHey, I’m not bothering a soul. Whose peace am I disturbing?”
    His eyes narrowed into slits, but the dark brown irises twinkled. “Mine.”
    A light, airy, completely bewildering feeling ballooned inside Amy as she contemplated the remark. She fought down the response, deciding she was more tired than she had thought. She reached for the staple gun. A big hand beat her to it.
    â€œUh-uh.” Reed tapped his watch, the corner of his mouth lifting just a little. “One more minute.”
    He took over the staple job, working without a word. That was Reed’s way. Quiet. Steady. Capable. She remembered when he and Ben were working on the house, Ben would be talking about hunting or God or the next extreme tour. Reed would occasionally add a word or a grunt and go right on hammering and sawing. He wasn’t big on conversation.
    The stapler click-clacked. Reed held up a headpiece. “How’s this?”
    â€œPerfect. Is my time up?”
    Reed’s grin widened. “Fidgety, aren’t you?”
    â€œI like to keep busy.”
    â€œSo I noticed.”
    He had? Well, of course he had. Reed considered her his duty, a thought that chaffed more each time they met. They were friends. He shouldn’t feel as if she were a responsibility. He should feel—well, she wasn’t sure what he should feel, but definitely not duty.
    â€œTime’s up.” He pushed the pad and pen toward her and reached for the final crown and strip of cloth. The small garment looked fragile in his large, capable hands. Hands that could take care of a whole town.
    â€œSo, what did you think?” she asked.
    â€œAbout?”
    She shrugged. “The pageant. Church.”
    â€œNoisy.” When she glared at him in mock anger, he grinned that grin again. “Not bad. I kind of liked it.”
    â€œWill you come back? Maybe on Sunday?”
    One strip of eyebrow arched. “Got to.”
    â€œOh.” She understood. “You don’t have to guard me day and night.”
    â€œI know.” Click-clack. The final staples went in. If he said Ben would expect it, she would be tempted to staple his lips together. Instead, he asked, “How are the boys doing? Sammy seems nervous.”
    The fact that he brought up her boys took the arch out of her spine. “He is. I don’t know what to do about it, either. The break-in scared him so badly. Maybe if you reassured him, he’d feel better.”
    â€œMe?” Reed looked as if she’d asked him to eat whale blubber.
    â€œYou’re the police chief. Big and brave. I just thought…” She shrugged.
    Reed carefully folded the headpiece and laid it aside. “If you think it would help.”
    Amy brightened. “I do.”
    â€œWell, okay.” He looked none too confident, a fact that amazed her. Reed always seemed sure of everything.
    â€œWill you watch the boys for one minute while I go get something? I left the song list in the sanctuary.”
    â€œSure.” He reached for his own cup of cider and sipped, watching her over the rim.
    After a quick word to the boys, who seemed fine with Reed as their momentary babysitter, Amy exited the fellowship hall and nearly collided with Ethan Eckles. The pianist caught her by the arms. Like most of the men in Treasure Creek, Ethan was young, single and not bad-looking. Any number of the new women in town had tried to cozy up to the elementary school teacher, but so far he’d remained