A Lawman for Christmas

by Karen Kirst

  “Carmen,” Honor said in exasperation, “don’t be rude.”

  “When will you stop chiding me as if I’m eight years old?”

  Isabel caught Ben’s sparkling gaze upon her. “I miss this.”

  “What? Constant squabbling?”

  “Family,” he said simply.

  She averted her eyes. Never had she thought of the deputy as lonely. He had enough admirers to keep him entertained during his nonworking hours. She envisioned her fragile mother and the many moments over the past months when Isabel had wished she was around. And while her siblings sometimes annoyed her, she couldn’t imagine living an entire day’s journey away.

  “When was the last time you saw your family?” Carmen shifted the molasses closer to her plate.

  “I spent a couple of weeks in Georgia last summer. My father’s not one for traveling, so if I want to see them, I have to go out there.”

  Impatient, Eli ambled onto his knees and reached for the topmost flapjack.

  “We haven’t said grace yet, Eli.”

  She placed her hand on his back, compassion and consternation mingling when she felt his leanness. He could be part of a destitute family with a guardian who struggled to put food in the children’s bellies. Or he could be in the care of someone who put their selfish desires above his welfare. Isabel found herself hoping he’d stay with her long enough to see him gain weight.

  “Who’s Grace?” Eli said.

  Carmen snickered. Honor shot her a quelling glance.

  Seated around the corner from Isabel, Ben’s forehead pleated in dismay. “Saying grace means we pray to God and thank Him for the blessings He’s given us,” he explained.

  “Oh.”

  Honor asked Ben to say the blessing. Isabel placed her hand in his outstretched palm, tingles scrabbling up her arm when his fingers closed over hers. Her pulse leaped. His skin was smooth in places and callused in others. She’d never held hands with a man...the contact was wondrous and oddly comforting. His gaze locked onto hers, and he swallowed hard.

  Eli tapped her other arm. “Do I hold your hand, too?”

  Glad for the distraction, she smiled down at the boy. “It’s customary to hold hands while we pray, at least in our home.”

  His thin face far too serious, he laid his hand atop hers. “Like that?”

  Her heart squeezed with a foreign ache. “Yes, sweetie. Exactly like that.”

  As Ben’s husky, velvet voice washed over her, she was struck by the fact that this was the first time a man had sat at the Flores table and offered thanks to God above. Manuel hadn’t been a churchgoer. He’d allowed his wife and daughters to attend, but he hadn’t wanted to be confronted with the evidence of their faith. No praying before meals. Scripture reading had to be done in the privacy of their rooms, out of sight.

  Growing up, Isabel had observed the church’s congregants and wondered what it would be like to have a father who loved Jesus. Zeroing in on the sensation of Ben’s strong yet gentle hold, her thoughts turned to marriage and the blessing of a God-fearing husband.

  She withdrew from his intoxicating touch as soon as the prayer concluded. The conversation buzzed around her as she concentrated on cutting Eli’s flapjack and dusting his eggs with salt. She sensed Ben’s attention returning to her from time to time but didn’t engage. How disheartening to discover she wasn’t as immune to him as she’d thought.

  When everyone’s appetites were sated, it was decided that Honor and Carmen would attend services while Isabel remained home with Eli. She could hardly take him to church in his current state.

  Ben began clearing the dishes. “I’ll stay with you.”

  Isabel’s heart stuttered in her chest. She was ready for him to leave—already he’d far outstayed his welcome. A return to their former distant lives would reestablish her mental boundaries. The words that would spur him to do so refused to materialize, however. Instead, she nodded her acquiescence.

  Isabel studied the small boy licking syrup from his fingers. The sooner they reunited him with his caretaker, the sooner she’d be rid of the deputy. But what if that wasn’t best for Eli?

  * * *

  “Time for you to get clean, little man.”

  Eli eyed the basin filled with steaming water and scowled. “I ain’t never washed in nothing like that.”

  Isabel lowered the stack of folded towels to the cushioned chair nearest her. “Did you bathe in a stream?”

  “Sometimes.”

  Ben crouched to the boy’s level. “Want to know a secret?”

  “What secret?”

  “Isabel, cover your ears.”

  She arched a brow at him but did as he’d bidden.

  He cast his voice in a conspiratorial whisper. “Ladies like it when us men smell nice. Did you know that?”

  Eli lifted his arm to his nose and sniffed. “I don’t smell too good.”

  Ben masked a smile. “Miss Isabel has agreed to let you borrow her good soap.”

  The boy tipped his head up to regard Isabel, who was gamely still covering her ears. She bestowed Eli with a sweet, encouraging smile that made Ben’s chest seize with longing. Isabel should smile more often. It softened her features and warmed her brown-black eyes to pools of melted chocolate. Her smile invited him in, this confounding woman who was adept at keeping men, especially him, at a fixed and uncrossable distance.

  Stop this foolishness. She’s not smiling at you, MacGregor. She’s smiling at the child.

  Eli looked at Ben again. “After the bath, can I go find Happy?”

  Ben gestured for Isabel to listen in. “Is Happy your toy? A stuffed bunny, perhaps?”

  His nose wrinkled. “No.”

  Isabel sank onto the footstool. Before her sisters departed, she’d ducked into her room, brushed her hair and restrained the heavy mass with a wide ribbon. A pair of dainty black-and-white cameo earrings adorned her earlobes. Her beauty nearly stole his breath away.

  “Is Happy your friend?”

  His head bobbed up and down. “He takes care of me.”

  “After you’re clean, would you like to draw a picture of Happy? That way Ben and I will know what he looks like.”

  “Good idea,” Ben said.

  Once Eli was submerged, Isabel held up the soiled clothing and sighed. “I’m not sure these can be salvaged. The mercantile’s closed today. I’ll send the girls first thing tomorrow morning. Quinn Darling typically has a good selection of ready-made clothes for adults. I hope he has something for children.”

  “Have him put the expense on my tab.”

  “That’s kind of you, but—”

  He rested a hand on her forearm, the cotton sleeve soft from many washings. “You have your sisters to provide for. I have no one. My expenses are few. Let me do this.”

  She quickly disengaged from his touch. Funny, she hadn’t seemed to mind holding his hand at breakfast.

  “I can afford to buy him an outfit.”

  “I’m not suggesting you can’t.” He motioned for her to join him beside the desk. “He’s not your responsibility, Isabel. Or at least, he shouldn’t be. I, on the other hand, have a duty to the townspeople and those who pass through our borders, even temporarily.”

  “I don’t have the energy to argue, so we’ll do it your way.”

  He skimmed the ridge of her cheekbone with his fingertip. “You lost sleep last night.”

  Her apricot-tinted lips parted on a breath. “I’m fine.” After glancing over her shoulder, she leaned close and whispered, “Stop flirting, will you? I know it’s become second nature to you, but I refuse to play your game.”

  Ben mentally cringed. He had no one but himself to blame for Isabel’s low opinion. Intent on hiding his true reason for avoiding marriage, he’d crafted this footloos
e and fancy-free persona and played it with a finesse that had fooled everyone. Since others’ opinions about his romantic interests weren’t important, he was able to brush off any censure he incurred. Until Isabel.

  “I apologize for daring to touch you, my lady.” He sketched a deep bow. “I’ll do my best to restrain my untoward impulses around you.”

  His anger directed at his unfortunate circumstances, he spied a comb amid the supplies she’d gathered and snatched it up. Forcing a lightness into his voice that he didn’t feel, he said, “Eli, my boy, have you ever seen a dog with burrs twisting his fur?”

  Eli ceased his splashing.

  “I hate to say it, but that’s what your hair looks like.” He waggled the comb. “We’re going to get rid of those knots, all right? And then you’ll not only smell nice for Miss Isabel and her sisters, you’ll look presentable.”

  When the boy appeared uncertain, Ben said, “I promise I’ll be gentle. I’ve had plenty of practice. I was often responsible for dressing my three younger sisters’ hair.”

  Isabel excused herself to go in search of an article of clothing for Eli. Using a cup she’d provided, Ben scooped up small amounts of water and wet the boy’s curls. As he washed the grit from his scalp, he asked, “Do you have any sisters, Eli?”

  “My mama had a baby.”

  Ben rested his arm on the copper basin’s long edge. “And that baby was you?”

  “Not me. I’m a big boy.”

  “That you are.” His mind whirling, he continued his task. Had the boy’s mother died in childbirth?

  “I want Mama back.” His lower lip trembled.

  Ben had little experience comforting children. The lawman in him wanted to pepper the boy with questions, but he couldn’t treat Eli like a suspect in an investigation. He reached out and awkwardly patted the boy’s shoulder.

  “What was her name?”

  “Annie.”

  “Pretty name. Did she have dark curls like you?”

  Shaking his head, he manipulated the soap bar around the tub like a boat. “Mama had long hair the color of corn.”

  “Eli, I’d like to find your guardian. You said your pa isn’t around?”

  “Mama said he was a bad man.” His eyes reflected a hint of worry.

  Isabel had entered the room. At these words, she frowned. Was she thinking the same as he? That the timing of the attempted robbery and Eli’s arrival might not be coincidental? He tried to make sense of a connection between Eli and the man who’d threatened Isabel but couldn’t.

  She neared the tub, her skirts making soft swishing noises. “You’re safe here, Eli. Ben’s a lawman. A deputy, in fact.”

  Eli didn’t look impressed. “Can I get out?”

  Ben smiled and winked. “I’m almost done with your hair. Just a few minutes longer.”

  When they’d gotten him dried and dressed in a white shirt that swallowed him whole, he scowled down at it.

  “Since we weren’t able to attend church this morning,” Ben suggested, “I could read the account of Jesus’s birth.”

  Isabel looked stunned. “You wouldn’t mind?”

  “It’d be my pleasure.”

  As she went to her room to retrieve her Bible, he settled on the sofa and patted the middle spot. “You can sit between us, little man.”

  Eli clambered onto the cushions, his soapy-clean scent a huge improvement from before. His curls flopped over his forehead and skimmed his brows. He could do with a trim.

  When Isabel handed Ben the revered book, he flipped to Luke, the worn pages a sign that it wasn’t a dust collector.

  “What’s a Bible?” Eli said.

  Isabel’s clasped hands tightened on her lap. He shared her concern.

  “This is God’s Word,” he said. “Did anyone ever tell you about Jesus?”

  Eli shook his head. A great weight settled on his soul. So this was what it felt like to be a father, he realized, with the privilege of telling his children about the Creator of the world and His Son, Jesus Christ, sent to spare humankind from eternal condemnation. What an awesome responsibility.

  Ben wouldn’t have a son or daughter to share the good news with, but God had granted him the opportunity to tell Eli.

  Praying for guidance, he searched for a way to relate what he knew in terms a child could understand. Then he read the Holy Scriptures, his heart swelling anew at the miracle of Christ’s birth.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Isabel dashing tears from her cheeks. He was fervently thankful it was her sitting here with him, sharing this moment, and not some starry-eyed girl who’d duped herself into thinking he’d make a fabulous husband.

  He looked at Eli, who was absorbing everything with wide-eyed innocence, and vowed to use whatever time they had together to point him toward the Lord.

  Closing the book, he headed for the coatrack. “I’m going to the church. As soon as services conclude, I’ll make an announcement. Maybe someone will have information that will benefit us.”

  Isabel followed, her misgivings clear. “I’m not convinced returning him is a wise idea. He clearly hasn’t had the best of care.” Hugging herself, she whispered, “Ben, he’s never even heard the true reason for Christmas.”

  He agreed with her, but he had a duty to uphold the law. “He doesn’t belong to us, Isabel. We have a legal obligation to search for his guardian. At first, he said he didn’t have a father. Just now he indicated his mother had spoken of him. I get the impression he’s not a law-abiding citizen.”

  She searched his countenance with dawning concern. “You believe our bank robber is connected to Eli somehow?”

  “The timing is suspicious.” He tied his new neckerchief around his throat. “As far as we know, no one’s been looking for him.”

  “Which would indicate a person who doesn’t truly care.”

  “We need to learn more about this Happy person he keeps mentioning.”

  “I’ll get out pencils and paper right away.” She regarded Eli with obvious anxiety.

  “Isabel.”

  “Hmm?”

  “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  She refocused on him. “I won’t.”

  “If there are no developments today, we should place him elsewhere.”

  “You don’t think I’m up to the challenge of caring for a small child?”

  “That’s not it.” He thumped his hat against his thigh. How was he supposed to explain his reservations? “I’m worried you’ll get attached in a way that a married couple with children of their own might not.”

  She folded her arms over her chest. “Your worry is for naught. I’ve resigned myself to a life without a husband and, therefore, no children.”

  Ben felt as if an arrow had pierced his heart. The dream of a large family had been ripped from him. He couldn’t fathom anyone deliberately making such a choice.

  “You have a lot to offer a child,” he rasped. “Be sure you’re making the right decision. Regret makes for cold company.”

  Chapter Seven

  Ben’s public announcement was met with surprise and expressions of pity. What he didn’t receive was insight into how Eli had come to be in their town. Like Isabel, he found it odd that no one was frantically searching for the boy. The reverend and his wife, along with several others, offered to assist his investigation in any way they could.

  In the crowd of people pouring out of the church, he found the post office operator and convinced him to delay his noon meal so that Ben could send telegrams to the surrounding communities. He’d thanked the man for his time and was strolling along the spruced-up boardwalk, the sharp scent of evergreens filling his senses, when Grant hailed him from the mercantile across the street.

  His friend quickly traversed the wide dirt str
eet and joined Ben in front of the Plum Café.

  “I’m glad I caught up to you,” he said, his gaze penetrating. “How are the Flores sisters coping? Is there anything we can do to help?”

  “Thanks for the offer. Right now, we’re focusing on finding answers.”

  “Not easy when you’re dealing with a four-year-old. I imagine he’s scared out of his wits.”

  “He’s doing okay, all things considered.” Ben unwound his horse’s reins from the hitching post. “He’s taken a shine to Isabel.”

  Grant made a considering noise. “That’s the piece of the puzzle I can’t figure out.”

  “What puzzle?”

  “I heard you showed up at the serenade with her. Were you at her place when she found the boy?”

  A sigh gusted out of him. “You’re not a marshal anymore, remember?”

  Grant’s grin did nothing to diminish his intensity. He wouldn’t stop until his curiosity had been appeased. “I find it interesting that two people who go out of their way to avoid sharing the same air are suddenly in each other’s pockets.”

  “Isabel avoids men on principle.” He thought about her reaction to his Scripture reading. To his knowledge, Manuel Flores hadn’t darkened the door of a church since moving to Tennessee. The man had failed in his responsibility to his family on more than one front.

  “You more than others,” Grant retorted. “I notice these things.”

  “Yes, I know you do.”

  Stuffing his boot in the stirrup, Ben grabbed the saddle horn and hauled himself onto Blaze’s back. Grant stepped close and patted the animal’s neck.

  “Out with it, MacGregor.” His blue gaze was relentless. “I’ve proved I can keep my mouth shut when I need to.”

  Ben shifted in the saddle, hearing what his friend hadn’t said. Grant wasn’t in the habit of keeping secrets from his wife, yet he hadn’t breathed a word of Ben’s condition to her.

  He scanned Main Street and the churchyard, now empty save for one remaining couple rounding up their kids and urging them into their wagon. The sun hadn’t made an appearance today. Behind the soaring steeple, winter fog blanketed the hollows between rounded mountain ridges. On days like these, the majestic mountains assumed a navy blue hue.