A Western Christmas. Louise M. Gouge

of Hannah and Grace, of the steady, stable life he wanted to provide for them. Until he was able to do just that, the Wainwright home was the next best thing.

      “Tell your father that the girls and I would be happy to dine with you on Sunday.”

       Chapter Two

      Caleb studied Ellie’s face, trying to read her reaction to his acceptance of her father’s invitation. Her expression was wide-eyed, slightly flustered and utterly adorable.

      An uncomfortable sensation moved through him, the kind reserved for a boy conversing with a girl for the first time.

      This is Ellie, he reminded himself. He wasn’t supposed to feel uncomfortable around her. Nor was he supposed to be this aware of her.

      Yet the sensation persisted, digging deeper, causing his breath to hitch and his mind to empty of all coherent thought.

      What were they discussing again?

      Mildly amused at himself, he felt a laugh bubble inside his chest. When was the last time he’d laughed?

      He couldn’t remember. A sad commentary on the current condition of his life. Even with help, raising twin daughters was hard work. But also the best part of his day. When he wasn’t at the jail, he put all his focus on caring for his daughters. That left little time for much else. He hoped that would change once he got married again.

      “Anyway, that’s all I came to say.” The tentative smile that accompanied Ellie’s words reached inside Caleb’s chest, grabbed hold of his heart and squeezed hard. “I guess I’ll see you at church on Sunday.”

      Staring into those big, expressive eyes, everything in him softened. “Yes, Ellie, you will see me there. Perhaps even before then.”

      “Sounds lovely.” Her smile wavered ever-so-slightly. “Well, um, bye.”

      “Bye, now.”

      He watched her walk back the way she came. She looked left, then right, then hurried across the street. Twice, she slowed her pace and glanced at him over her shoulder, her lower lip caught between her teeth. Both times, when their gazes met and melded, Caleb felt an unexpected ping in the pit of his stomach.

      There were logical reasons for his physical reaction to the girl—no, scratch that, not a girl. A woman. Ellie Wainwright was a full-grown, beautiful woman. She was also his friend’s treasured little sister and the daughter of the man Caleb considered a second father. That made her family, the sister he never had.

      Except...

      After their unusual, albeit brief interchanges this morning, Caleb wasn’t feeling very brotherly toward her.

      He lifted his hand in a responding wave to match the one Ellie tossed at him.

      His lips curved in a genuine smile.

      Ellie was a reminder of everything good in his past, the quintessential example of the stability he craved for his girls.

      Stopping yet again, this time at the door leading into the dress shop, she gave him one last glance over her shoulder before disappearing into the building.

      Ping.

      Caleb swallowed. He swallowed again. And one more time for good measure.

      Taking advantage of his inattention, Gideon rooted around for more treats, searching Caleb’s coat pockets with a warm, nuzzling nose.

      Giving in to the none-too-subtle demand, he fed the horse another carrot. “What,” he asked in a strained voice to the tune of the animal’s munching, “just happened?”

      Gideon had no answer.

      Neither did Caleb.

      At the moment, he didn’t know much of anything, except that he was wasting valuable time staring at a closed door.

      Banishing Ellie Wainwright from his mind, he gave Gideon one last pat then entered the jailhouse. With efficient movements, he divested himself of hat, gloves and long coat before turning his gaze onto his deputy.

      Feet propped up on the lone desk in the room, Prescott Kramer eyed him with the affable nonchalance that defined him. “Morning, Sheriff.”

      Caleb nodded. “Deputy.”

      Younger than Caleb by five years, Prescott was nearly his same height, a full inch over six feet, but broader in the shoulders and back. His eyes were a startling pale blue and he sported a head of thick, jet-black hair. The combination seemed to make the man popular with the ladies.

      No arguing that women liked Prescott and Prescott liked women. That didn’t mean he wasn’t a fine lawman. He had lightning-quick reflexes and a calm head in tough situations. Caleb had hired him eighteen months ago and had yet to regret the decision.

      Flashing a row of perfectly aligned, sparkling white teeth, the deputy slowly rose to his feet and ambled over to the coffeepot sitting atop the potbellied stove. He filled two tin cups with the thick brew they both preferred, kept one for himself and then handed the other to Caleb.

      Chilled from his time outdoors, Caleb took a grateful sip of the steaming liquid. “Any problems arise overnight I need to know about?”

      “Nope.” Prescott shook his head. “All quiet. Took the opportunity to read.”

      Caleb nodded again. The one pursuit Prescott loved nearly as much as getting to know a new woman in town was reading a good novel. “Glad to hear you spent your time productively.”

      Prescott could have taken a short nap last night and it wouldn’t have mattered much. Although Thunder Ridge was a regular stop on the Union Pacific rail line, with its no-saloon ordinance and a strong Christian presence, it was also a peaceful community.

      Not that there weren’t concerns that arose on occasion.

      Caleb and Prescott dealt with random cases of vandalism, scuttles that came from high tempers and, of course, the occasional dispute over property lines. But the jail cells remained mostly empty. And now that Caleb’s brothers were scattered all over the West, there was even less trouble in town.

      Most days, his job was boring, exactly the way he liked it. He’d had enough chaos for one lifetime, first from his unpredictable childhood and then from his volatile marriage.

      “Want me to take the ride through town this morning?” Prescott asked, referring to their daily routine check-in with the local businesses.

      “I’ll do it.” Caleb had already performed an initial inspection of the outlying ranches before coming in to work. Once he rode through town and spoke with the shopkeepers individually, he’d take Gideon to the livery for a much needed brushing and rest. “You can go on home, Pres.”

      “Don’t have to tell me twice.” The deputy drained his coffee then set down his empty cup next to the stove.

      With more enthusiasm than usual, he shoved his arms in his coat then jammed his hat on his head. Instead of heading out, he paused at the doorway. “Hey, Sheriff, got a question I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while now.”

      That sounded ominous. “Okay, shoot.”

      “Just how well do you know Ellie Wainwright?” A speculative gleam shone in the deputy’s eyes. “Well enough, say, to make an introduction?”

      Caleb’s blood ran cold at the obvious masculine interest in the question. Prescott was nothing if not predictable. In truth, Caleb wasn’t all that surprised by the deputy’s inquiry, only that it had taken the man an entire two weeks to ferret out information about Ellie Wainwright.

      Still.

      “Don’t go getting any ideas.” A burst of temper spiked his tone to a near guttural growl. “Ellie’s off-limits.”

      The warning only seemed to stir