A Lawman For Christmas. Karen Kirst

the sky and studied the patterns of twinkling lights in the black velvet expanse. She imagined God in all His glory, who’d crafted those stars and knew their exact number, listening to their voices. Was He pleased?

      The words trailed off. Clapping startled her out of her reverie. The family, who’d come onto the porch, wore happy smiles. The youngest sons carried baskets of cookies and doled them out to the carolers.

      “You have a delightful voice.” Ben’s warm breath teased the tendrils about her ear, and she shivered.

      Amazing. Despite being fully aware of his reputation, she was still affected by him.

      “You have an endless supply of false flattery, Deputy. Save it for someone gullible enough to believe you.”

      “And you, Miss Flores, have a peculiar inability to accept praise.”

      Their conveyance jerked into motion, knocking them into one another. Isabel gritted her teeth. The wagon’s occupants sneaked glances at them, no doubt cataloging their every exchange to dissect later. Ben had no inkling the amount of speculation they were drawing, because he was immune. He evidently didn’t care what others thought of him. For a brief instant, she envied him that.

      They reached the next home within ten minutes. This time they sang “Silent Night,” a song that put Isabel in mind of Jesus’s earthly parents and the events leading up to His birth. If anyone knew how it felt to be talked about and judged, it had been Mary. How had she endured the speculation and accusations? Had she lived her life as usual while awaiting the Savior’s birth? Or had she perhaps sequestered herself, seeing only her family and Joseph?

      When the song ended, they disembarked and gathered around a table with mugs of fragrant, spice-laced cider. Veronica swooped in with eagle-like accuracy.

      “I apologize for arriving late.” Slipping her arm through Ben’s, she regarded Isabel with a brittle smile. “I would’ve gladly kept him entertained in your place. Everyone’s aware you detest having to associate with your peers.”

      Veronica Patton actually thought she had something to fear from Isabel? A classic beauty, with long golden hair, crystal-blue eyes and creamy skin, she was popular, poised and perfect. And her family name didn’t have a single blemish.

      Ben’s brows descended. “Veronica—”

      “I’m the one who should apologize,” Isabel said with as much equanimity as she could muster. “I shouldn’t have monopolized the deputy’s attention. I’ll give you the privacy you crave.”

      Before Ben could respond, Isabel pivoted on her heel and joined Carmen and her friends near the well. They huddled together to ward off the cold, their mugs cradled close, the welcome steam warming their faces.

      “I’m glad you came, Isabel,” Rosa said kindly. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

      Sipping the liquid, she savored the apple flavor and tried to steady her nerves. “It’s been a while since I’ve gotten to sing Christmas carols.”

      Sharp-eyed Samantha Rogers studied her over the rim of her cup. “I didn’t think you’d ever join Ben MacGregor’s gaggle of admirers, Isabel. What changed?”

      Carmen elbowed the girl.

      Isabel’s stomach knotted. “I’m afraid you’ve gotten the wrong impression.”

      “Appears I’m not the only one.”

      Glancing around, she noticed the pointed stares bouncing between her and Veronica. What did they expect? An actual altercation to break out? Oh, wouldn’t Ben love that, she fumed, two women fighting over him?

      Ignoring her nudging conscience that protested she was being unfair, she bade the girls goodbye and pulled Carmen aside.

      “I’m going home.”

      “What? Why?”

      “This was a mistake.” She shook her head. “I shouldn’t have come.”

      Carmen’s round face wrinkled with distress. “You don’t have to leave. Sit with me and the girls.”

      “I’d rather be alone.” She snagged Carmen’s hand and gently squeezed. “Tell Honor I’ll see you both at home.”

      “Shouldn’t we tell Ben?” She bit her lip. “It’s a long walk, and it’s dark. What if he’s right about that bank robber?”

      “He’s preoccupied at the moment,” she said, wincing at the note of bitterness in her voice. She didn’t care that he and the gorgeous blonde were locked in a private conversation. She didn’t. “He’s making a bigger deal about the threat than he needs to.” Dragging her gaze away, she gave a brief wave. “Have fun, and I’ll see you later.”

      Isabel left the yard, passing the annoying Gallatin brothers on her way. Myron smirked at her and nudged Chester. If they hadn’t been engaged in obvious flirtation with a pair of young women, she was certain they would’ve made trouble.

      Soon the lights and laughter faded. Darkness closed around her, the deserted lane lit by infrequent patches of moonlight. At first, her relief at escaping Ben’s frustrating presence and too many prying eyes bolstered her along, without a thought to her surroundings. Gradually, though, she became aware of her isolation. Every snap and rustle in the night forest startled her. The memory of being held captive by the unkempt thief resurfaced, along with Ben’s warnings.

      Was he out there, hiding in the shadows, poised to strike?

      Isabel increased her pace. By the time she arrived at her cabin, her heart threatened to beat right out of her chest. Her trepidation was compounded when she climbed the porch steps and noticed the door ajar.

      Chilled to the bone, her exposed skin stinging, she stopped and stared. Had one of the girls failed to latch it? Or was someone inside awaiting her return?

      Retrieving her dagger, she prayed for God’s protection as she forced her feet forward.

       Chapter Four

      Where was Isabel?

      Ben scanned the crowd, frustrated when he saw no sign of her.

      “Ben?” Veronica pressed her palm against his cheek. “You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?”

      The gesture struck him as intimate. He shifted out of reach. “I’m afraid not. What were you saying?”

      “I asked about your injury.”

      “It wasn’t serious. A mere flesh wound.”

      Her blue eyes bore evidence of real distress. “I was so very frightened when I heard the account of your ordeal. The thought of you facing that madman alone has tortured me ever since.” She shivered.

      He hadn’t been alone, though. Burying that crucial information would help keep Isabel safe, but he felt as if he were cheating her somehow. She’d displayed true heroism that night.

      Veronica gripped his arm. “I wish I’d been there while Doc stitched you up. I would’ve held your hand.”

      Ben strangled on a cough. He doubted she’d be so swift to offer comfort if she knew who’d actually tended him. “A sweet sentiment, Veronica.”

      “It must’ve been difficult to return home to your empty cabin after such an ordeal.”

      Something in her tone set off a warning bell inside. “I’m used to living alone.”

      She licked her lips. “Don’t you get lonely? P-perhaps you’ve underestimated the advantages of having a wife. A companion who’s always on hand to comfort and cheer you.”

      Ben fell back a step. He was well acquainted with the advantages of a loving relationship. He’d seen the evidence in his own parents’ union, as well as his friends’ marriages.