Free The Sheriff's Christmas Twins by Karen Kirst Page A

she said softly.
    â€œThey like to harass me sometimes. You presented a perfect opportunity.”
    â€œIt’s obvious how much they care about you. You’re fortunate to have them.”
    After witnessing the evidence of their regard for him, she could only be happy to know he wasn’t alone.
    â€œI know.” His attention shifted beyond her. “Evening, Ben.”
    â€œHowdy, boss.” The rakish deputy took hold of her hand and, clasping it between his, pressed it to his heart. “You are as radiant as the North Star, Miss Ashworth. You put every other woman here to shame.”
    Allison didn’t dare risk a glance at Shane. “You are quite inventive with your compliments, Mr. MacGregor.”
    â€œWhat can I say?” His grin widened. “You inspire me.”
    â€œYou can release her hand now,” Shane muttered.
    Ben reluctantly did so. “Boss, I know how you feel about these types of shindigs. I don’t mind keeping Miss Ashworth company if you’d like to skip out.”
    Dejection weighed heavily on her shoulders. Lowering her gaze to the grass beneath her feet, she waited for Shane to agree.
    â€œThat’s mighty thoughtful of you, but Allie came with me, and I’ll see to it that she gets home safe and sound.”
    She whipped her head up. In the semidarkness, his profile was impossible to read. He’d called her Allie just once, the day he left Virginia. On the verge of boarding the train, he’d taken her hand and told her to take care of herself.
    Ben accepted his refusal with aplomb. “Understood.” His green gaze slid to her. “I’ll see you around, Miss Ashworth.”
    He sauntered off in the direction of the snack tables.
    Shane scrubbed at the day’s growth of beard shadowing his jaw. “I didn’t think to ask your opinion. If you’d rather pass the time with him, I’ll understand.”
    â€œI came here to visit you, Shane.”
    He stared at her for long moments. Holding out his bent arm, he said, “The reverend’s getting in position, which means the program is about to start. Let’s go and find us a spot.”
    About that time, the jangle of cowbells got everyone’s attention. The reverend, a silver-haired man clad in a penguin’s colors, went to stand near the church steps and waited until the crowd gathered around.
    â€œFriends and neighbors, another year is drawing to a close,” he said. “In this last month of 1886, let us reflect on God’s blessings and His greatest gift to mankind, His Son, Jesus Christ.” He gestured to the grouping of statues covered with burlap. “This year, I’m pleased to inform you that we have a new nativity. My thanks goes to Josh O’Malley, who carved each piece with his own two hands.”
    The people clapped as the reverend removed the burlap from each statue. Allison was amazed by the craftsmanship and detail of Mary, Joseph, baby Jesus and the animals.
    â€œIt’s wonderful,” she whispered. “I’ve never seen the like.”
    His face devoid of emotion, he nodded and sipped his cider. “Josh is a skilled carpenter. You’ll have to visit his furniture store sometime.”
    â€œI’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