Christmas Kiss From The Sheriff. Kathryn Albright

was hoping for a widow or an old maid. Someone with experience. By August, when nobody like that had answered the advertisement I placed in the San Diego newspaper, I was starting to sweat. Here the new school was almost finished and there was no one to teach in it—at least no one with the right qualifications. I happened to mention it to the traveling preacher one Sunday. He passed along the word down in La Playa. It wasn’t but a short time after that, Miss Starling wrote and agreed to an interview.”

      “So...in the nick of time.”

      “Yep. Last-minute. And when she came she had all her things with her, just like she expected to get the position and stay on. But you know? That gal has more education behind her than any woman I’ve ever met. My children are learning things—things I never knew which isn’t saying a whole lot. We are lucky to have her.”

      There. Another inconsistency with Miss Starling. Craig blew out a breath. If what Tanner said was true, why would Miss Starling come here? Why not some private, rich school in the city where she could draw a better salary?

      He’d leave Patrick to his fantasy. Miss Starling was too pretty to stay single long, but it wouldn’t be because of him that she left teaching. She was too full of starch for him. Besides, he wasn’t planning to go down that road again anytime soon.

      Even as he said it, the memory of her playing ball with the children in the schoolyard came to him. A woman who was stiff and starchy wouldn’t do that. Was it just around him...or maybe men in general...that she put up a barrier?

      Just then the woman of their conversation emerged from the building and headed their way. As Miss Starling neared, Craig breathed in the scent of jasmine that circled around her. That clean-smelling soap she used was headier than any perfume worn by the saloon women he’d met in passing. Miss Starling should have more sense. He stopped midbreath when he noticed Tanner watching him.

      Tanner shook his head once, then bent down and locked the door to the town hall. “Good night, Sheriff. Miss Starling.”

      “Good night,” Gemma said with a pert nod, at the same time tying her hat ribbons under her chin, while crunched over to hold on to the loose papers tucked under her arm. Not surprisingly they didn’t fly off into the night the way they would with most people. Starch and burrs. When she was all together and her notes folded and contained within her satchel, she turned her face up expectantly. “Now. You wanted to speak with me?”

      He indicated with is hand that they could start walking and then started down the boardwalk toward the boardinghouse. The town was buttoned up for the evening. As the other members of the school board disappeared into their respective homes or rode out of town, their figures absorbing into the dark shadows, the road became deserted. Even the two saloons were quiet, although lamplight from each of them could be seen trickling through the windows at each end of the road. The miners, by this time of evening, had finished their beers and were probably too tired to stand up. If they were smart, they had headed home themselves.

      With one gloved hand, Miss Starling gathered the edges of her coat closer about her neck. “It smells of snow in the air.”

      He glanced upward. A blanket of clouds moved slowly in from the west, snuffing out the stars all the way to the horizon. The moon in the eastern sky still shone bright—to the point that its light cast shadows on the dirt road. Her comment at once distracted him from his agenda and what he wanted to discuss. Strolling and observing the night sky was...well, it was romantic...and at the moment not a word he would use with Miss Starling. He glanced back at her upturned face which was cast in a silvery blue as she caught the moonlight. Just what was she up to?

      He was curious about the fight, but he figured it was none of his business unless one of the kids really got hurt. Kids scuffled. That’s all there was to it. And it sounded like she had handled it. ’Course, he wondered how she had handled it. Billy was her height and Duncan five inches taller. How had she stopped them?

      “I’m new to the community by most counts, miss, but I gather that you’ve been here even less time than I have. At school you were talking about going out to the Odoms’ place.”

      “Yes. On Saturday.”

      “Have you got someone going with you? Someone who knows the way?”

      She looked perplexed at his question. “Well... No. But I’m sure there is a road...or a trail. Tara and Billy—”

      “Are country born and bred.”

      She stepped down from the boardwalk and started across the first crossroad. “Why would that matter?”

      He studied her pert nose which she had notched up stubbornly in the air. “You don’t strike me as someone who grew up in the country. For example, can you tell me which way we are headed? North or west?”

      She was quiet.

      “This isn’t like a city where there are names for roads and easy-to-remember storefronts. It’s easy to get lost in these hills. One boulder starts to look like another. One tree the same thing. I can’t have you walking...or riding...all over the mountain. You’ll be lost within half an hour.”

      “You can’t have me walking...” she echoed, a trace of sarcasm in her voice.

      Guess she didn’t care much for his interference. It couldn’t be helped. He wasn’t about to let her wander the mountains on her own. He walked another half a block with her in silence, hoping she was absorbing the truth of the matter.

      Her steps finally slowed and then came to a stop. “What do you propose?” she asked, facing him.

      “To go with you.”

      “I don’t think...” She shook her head doubtfully. “That’s really not necessary.”

      “Not. Necessary. Hmm. Then tell me which way you are facing now.”

      She sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. “I can’t.”

      “Well, until you can, you need an escort. I’m offering.”

      She frowned. “Sheriff...I doubt the etiquette of the situation allows for you to accompany me.”

      So that’s what was bothering her. “It doesn’t allow for a woman to go alone either. Sometimes out here you have to be practical.”

      “Well...perhaps Mrs. Birdwell or Eileen Gilliam at the dry goods store could accompany me. I’ll ask one of them. You needn’t trouble yourself further.”

      “Fair enough.” He had plenty of other things to do.

      She started walking toward Mrs. Birdwell’s again “Do all the other women here know their directions?”

      “If they were raised in the country they do.”

      “Day or night?”

      “While the sun is up for the most part. There are a few who know the stars too.” He couldn’t imagine growing up without that knowledge. His father had impressed it on him by the time he was ten. “Just where are you from anyway?”

      “Obviously not here,” she grumbled.

      “So...?” he prompted.

      She eyed him with a speculative look. The light through the saloon window danced in her eyes. “Guess.”

      He hadn’t expected that. He raised his brows. A challenge. “Big city. North, I think.”

      She smiled slightly.

      “Your clothes are fancier than most. Your shoes wouldn’t last more’n a day on a hike.”

      “My shoes?” She stopped and looked down at her feet. “When did you check my...? Humph.”

      “San Francisco? No...” he answered himself. Not with the way she said certain words. “Back East somewhere.”

      “I have a feeling not knowing the answer will trouble you immensely,” she said smugly.

      “It