Christmas Kiss From The Sheriff. Kathryn Albright

glared at each other. After a good long while, he indicated with his chin two horses standing near the farthest stall—a black and a chestnut. “I took the liberty of saddling the mare.”

      He wasn’t giving her the choice. It was either go with him, or not at all. Very well. She tugged her gloves on tighter and started toward the horses. Halfway there, she stopped and stared at the saddle on the smaller animal.

      “What’s wrong?”

      “I’m used to sidesaddle.”

      His eyes narrowed. “I’m getting a new appreciation of your upbringing, Miss Starling. This must be quite a change for you from... Boston.”

      “You have no idea.” Then she realized what he’d said. She had hoped he would forget trying to figure out her past. The game had been unwise. She realized it the moment he had started asking her questions. “You found out.”

      He nodded. Once.

      How much had he come to know about her? She swallowed and with a forced casualness, stepped up to the mare and stroked its warm neck. “How?”

      “You dropped a few clues.” He tilted his head, indicating he’d help her mount. “You’ll figure out the saddle.”

      She was relieved that he wasn’t going to pursue more of her past. She would be more careful with her information from now on. The horse ignored her ministrations, but for a flick of its ears. “I’m sure I can adjust. There can’t be much of a difference. It’s not like I’m riding an ostrich. It is still a horse.”

      An amused grin inched up his face. “Now, there’s a picture to think on. I’ll give you a leg up.”

      She felt a bit nervous and it wasn’t about the horse or the saddle, but about him standing close as he laced his fingers and waited for her to place her boot in his hands. She steadied herself—her right hand on the saddle horn and her left one on his strong thick shoulder. She was so close she could smell the clean scent of the soap he’d used that morning. It mixed with the scent of leather and horse and was altogether...pleasant.

      He shifted under her hand, and then straightened, a question in his eyes. She realized she’d hesitated.

      “Ready now?” he asked, his brows raising, and the brilliant blue of his eyes capturing her for a moment.

      She nodded and took hold of the pommel and the cantle. She placed her boot in his hands and he boosted her up. In the space of a heartbeat she was on the saddle and then sliding...

      “Whoa, there!” he said, and clasped on to her waist to steady her.

      She blew out a breath. “I’ve got it.”

      He let go and backed off, yet all the while her skin tingled and her waist felt like it was on fire beneath her layers of clothing. She tugged at her coat and then straightened her felt hat in an effort to make herself feel “all together” again. Then she realized that he was waiting for her to settle, and she stopped fidgeting.

      He handed her the reins and then walked around her horse, adjusting her stirrups to the length of her legs. “All set for this?” he asked, a doubtful look twisting his expression.

      She nodded gamely. “Lead on, Sheriff.”

      He led her horse out the smaller back door of the livery and handed the reins up to her. “I’ll meet you at the school in ten minutes. Take it slow to give me time.”

      He had surprised her. She hadn’t expected him to be sensitive to the situation. His unstudied competence suddenly made her feel secure and protected... She blew out a slow breath. And all the more aware of him.

      It was a bit...unsettling.

      “Thank you, Sheriff.” She urged her horse to the small side street. When she looked back over her shoulder, he had already reentered the livery.

      Her seat felt foreign at first—and hard—and she wished she had thought to wear thicker undergarments. At this rate, her derriere would have a pink glow—if not a blister or two—by the time she returned to Molly’s. She passed Mr. Winters with his young son in tow as the two entered the barber shop.

      “Out riding, Miss Starling?”

      “Yes. I couldn’t resist. Just for a bit.”

      “Well, it’s fine weather for it. Good day.” He turned into the shop.

      He hadn’t seemed off in the least! Not about her riding astride, or about her riding alone. She sat a little taller in the saddle.

      She passed Molly’s boardinghouse and then turned north, following a trail away from town that led diagonally through the woods to the schoolhouse.

      Once she arrived at the school, she waited for the Sheriff. Five minutes later he appeared riding up from the stream.

      “Ready?”

      She urged her horse up beside his. “I would appreciate you taking it slow. It’s been a while since I rode—more than a year.”

      “You will understand why a buggy won’t work once we turn off the main road.”

      They continued for a mile in silence, persisting farther north. A light wind gently rocked the branches of the tall pines and rustled the naked branches of the few oaks that lined the route. On each side of the road, curled, dead leaves and acorns littered the ground.

      “Here we go. It gets steep in a few places.” He reined his horse through a stand of manzanita and headed east, following a deer trail. Beyond a massive boulder, it skirted the southern side of a mountain that was speckled with large granite boulders and sumac. The scent of mountain sage filled the crisp air. Suddenly she was quite thankful for his presence. She doubted that she would have been able to find the way on her own.

      A blast of cool air rounded the hillside, whipping up the ends of her scarf. She gasped and tightened her scarf around her neck, tucking the ends under the collar of her coat. “No wonder Tara and Billy don’t make it to school when the weather is bad,” she murmured. She was gaining an appreciation for what a struggle it must be to take this trail daily.

      “Probably why she was worried about her brother...and about getting home the day of the fight.”

      It was the gentlest admonition she had ever received. “I see why you insisted she not go on her own. A little girl has no business out here on her own.”

      “Neither does a lady from back East.”

      She reined back and stared at his broad back, only slightly miffed that he’d been right. “Point taken, Sheriff.”

      A small lizard scrambled off a boulder that stood next to the trail and skittered away into the brush.

      “Do you know how to shoot, Miss Starling?”

      Her gaze flew to his face. Why would he bring up guns all of a sudden? He couldn’t know, could he? She glanced at his holster and gun. “Why do you ask?”

      “I realize the school is only a stone’s throw from town, but it is close enough to the creek that you are sure to see animals stopping by. This isn’t Boston, where I suspect the largest wild animal might be a rat.”

      “A rat! Of all the outlandish things to say. Just what part of Boston do you think I am from?”

      His look was curious...assessing. “I wouldn’t know.”

      Every time they spoke she seemed to give more of herself—her past—away. She had to be careful. The sheriff wasn’t a fool. Quite the contrary. Each time she was with him, she became more and more convinced of his innate intelligence.

      “I’ve seen a few snakes,” she admitted in a clipped tone, but then became more thoughtful. “Just what type of wild animals are you talking about?”

      He blew out a long breath. “Bears, cougars...”

      “Wolves?”