Christmas Kiss From The Sheriff. Kathryn Albright

he never got tired of seeing.

      He followed a self-made route every day. Now that school was in session, he had taken to riding by the new schoolhouse. He told himself that it was because the school was part of the township, but deep down, he knew he wouldn’t mind a quick gander at the pretty new schoolteacher. He’d seen her once in the yard, and watched amused as she played ball with the children. He was fairly sure that she’d seen him too. For a moment her gaze had caught his. She had quickly extricated herself from the game, brushing back the tendrils of dark brown hair that had fallen into her line of vision, and then refocused on him. With a flounce of her skirt, she had disappeared inside the schoolhouse.

      He took the deer trail across the meadow and through the pines until he came to the shallow creek a short distance from the school. He found his usual spot where the span of the creek was twenty feet wide and the water rippled gently over the submerged rocks, creating small whorls in the shallows. Dismounting, he released the reins and let his horse drink.

      Fifty feet upstream something yellow flashed.

      Along the bank a young girl had laid across a large boulder, stretched herself as long as possible and was trying to retrieve something from the ripples. She wore an overly large green knitted sweater over a yellow pinafore smudged with dirt. Blond braids hung down and skimmed the surface of the water as she reached for whatever eluded her in the water. He hoped it was worth a dousing, because it looked like that was going to happen in about two seconds.

      “Here, now!” he called, striding toward her. “What are you up to there?”

      Startled, she drew back her hand. When she caught sight of him she swallowed hard and then scrambled to her feet, wiping her hands on her wrinkled pinafore. Now that she was upright rather than horizontal he judged her to be about six...or perhaps seven years of age.

      He stopped fifteen feet from her so as not to scare her or make her trip. With his big frame, he had that effect on some children. “I’m Sheriff Parker, miss. What are you up to this fine day and shouldn’t you be in school?”

      Telltale red blotches immediately blossomed on her cheeks, answering that question. He’d done his share of playing hooky when he was younger. He figured it did a boy good to have some freedom. But girls? He had never considered much what a young girl would want to do in her spare time.

      “What is it you were after there in the water?”

      “Nothin’,” she said in a high, airy voice.

      “So you can talk.” Now that they had established a small amount of comfort with each other, he stepped over to the bank and peered into the shallows. A new copper penny shone through the mild ripples. He retrieved it easily and held it out to her.

      She snatched it from his fingers as though he might take it away in the next instance.

      “Time for you to get to class now. It just so happens that I was heading that way. We can go together.”

      At that she looked a bit nervous. Suddenly she concentrated on her feet as she shuffled through the crisp brown leaves that littered the deer path leading back to the school. He grabbed his horse by the reins and followed at a short distance, amused that her steps slowed the closer they came to the school. Was she anticipating a scolding from the new teacher? The woman hadn’t looked that ferocious, but maybe to such a small girl everything looked big and scary.

      They came to the side yard and he stepped ahead of her. “Wait here.” He tied his horse to the tie line.

      He rapped on the thick wood door before entering. A young girl in the first row was standing and reading aloud. At the front of the room, Miss Starling paced slowly, back and forth with a book resting open in her hand as she followed along with the reader. The white blouse she wore tucked in at her waist to a dark blue skirt, giving her a crisp, professional air. She looked like a no-nonsense schoolmarm, pinched mouth and everything, in complete control, but he had to smile to himself at the amount of chalk dust streaking her skirt at her hips.

      He started down the center aisle that separated the girls from the boys.

      She stopped pacing and looked up from her book, frowning at his interruption.

      “Sheriff? What can I do for you?”

      “Miss Starling. I need you to step outside for a minute.”

      “What? Now? But I’m in the middle of class.”

      Not the response he was looking for. “It won’t take long.”

      She looked like she had just sucked on a lemon. Yep. The expression marring her pretty face at the moment was decidedly miffed.

      She closed her book with a whump, the sudden noise startling half the class, and set the book on her desk. “Moira...” She addressed the young girl who had been reading. “Continue to the end of the page and then hand the book across to Uriah who will read on.”

      * * *

      As she strode directly in front of him and out the door he caught a whiff of the soap she had used that morning. It hinted of jasmine. A scent like that you didn’t forget. For a woman who was all business such an exotic soap was more than a little intriguing. He was pretty sure it wasn’t perfume—only ladies of the night used such devices—not sensible teachers. His mouth twisted in amusement as he followed her out the door.

      “Now what is this all about?” she asked, turning abruptly to confront him at the base of the steps. Her deep brown eyes held his gaze, challenging him to make this worth her while.

      “Found someone I believe is supposed to be here instead of down by the creek.” He nodded toward the girl that, despite his instructions, had moved and now hid halfway behind the shed.

      Miss Starling’s shoulders lowered from their rigid set. Disappointment filled her voice. “Not again.”

      Not again? “I ran into her downstream about half a mile from here.”

      “I see. Thank you for seeing her safely here.”

      She seemed to have thawed a bit for which he was grateful. That first look she had given the little girl was heavy enough to bow her small back with the weight.

      “Tara Odom. What have you to say for yourself? Was it a rabbit this time? Or a squirrel? What was so fascinating that you would forgo class again?”

      Tara didn’t answer at first, but stepped into full view. A second later her chin quivered and she hung her head. “I was looking for Billy.”

      Miss Starling pressed her lips together as she seemed to consider her reply. No hint of a smile. No softening of her voice. “You have a responsibility to yourself. Your job is to learn. Concern about your brother is an admirable quality, but he made his own choice not to return after what happened this morning.”

      Tears appeared in the little girl’s eyes. “I just want to know if he is okay,” she said in a small voice—a voice that now had a catch to it.

      It seemed that the shiny copper penny had been forgotten. He wondered what had occurred that morning.

      Miss Starling squared her shoulders. “I’m afraid that I will need to speak with your parents about this.”

      The girl’s lower lip trembled. “My...my ma?”

      The teacher didn’t appear in the least affected by the girl’s tears. Craig couldn’t say the same about himself. He’d always been a sucker for a female’s tears—his mom’s, and Charlotte’s.

      “Yes. And your father.”

      “He...he ain’t home.”

      Miss Starling’s mouth tightened further. “I’m very disappointed in you. For the rest of the week you will stay inside at noon and work on your studies to make up for your lovely half day of recess today.”

      “Yes’m.”

      “You may take your seat now.”

      With