by Karen Kirst
She slowly nodded. “I will.”
“Say you promise.”
“I promise.”
“Good.”
Her pledge didn’t fully dispel his worries. That he’d kissed her proved he was starting to care far too much. He was breaking rules he’d established years ago, rules meant to prevent anyone from getting hurt. That kiss could not be repeated. If he hurt Isabel, he’d never be able to forgive himself.
* * *
“Got any plans for Christmas?”
Ben tilted his hat farther up his forehead and leveled an even stare at his friend riding alongside. Their progress through the woods was painstakingly slow. Around them, volunteers fanned out searching for signs of the stranger Isabel had encountered yesterday.
“Not yet.” He didn’t trust the gleam in the former marshal’s eyes. “Why do you ask?”
“Just wondering.” Grant’s shrug was unconvincing. “It’s ten days away. I figured with you spending so much time with Isabel and her sisters that you’d have received an invitation by now.”
“I have.” Isabel had yet to reiterate Carmen’s spontaneous invite, and he wouldn’t intrude on their private celebration without her wholehearted consent. “Haven’t made up my mind what I’ll do.”
“Well, if you find yourself without somewhere to go, you’re welcome at the O’Malleys’. It’s what I like to call organized chaos.” A grin eased the ruggedness of his features. Grant was doing a lot of that lately, his excitement over the baby obvious to anyone who talked to him.
Sunlight shafted through the trees to form pale patterns on the faded leaf cover. The occasional bird of prey flew overhead, their flapping wings and piercing cries interrupting the hush blanketing the winter landscape. Conversations he couldn’t make out carried across the expanse as men rode in pairs or trios.
Ben shifted in the saddle and inhaled the crisp air. He was fighting drowsiness today, thanks to his late-night visit with Isabel. At least her concoction had worked. His headache was gone, and all he had was lingering soreness beneath the bandage she’d insisted he wear.
“Have you gotten Jessica’s gift squared away?”
Grant flipped up the collar of his caramel-colored coat. “I ordered her a housekeeping book she’s been wanting, but I’d like to get her something a little more sentimental.”
“You’re a blessed man, you know that? A nice home, a beautiful wife and a baby on the way. Don’t ever take that for granted.”
“I won’t.” His gaze grew serious. “I came close to losing her once upon a time. That small taste of life without her was enough for me.”
When Grant Parker first arrived in Gatlinburg, injured and disoriented, he’d been suffering from amnesia. Jessica gave him shelter and helped him try to solve the puzzle of his identity. Once they learned he was a US marshal, Grant returned to Arlington with his brother, Aaron. It hadn’t taken him long, though, to figure out Tennessee was where he wanted to be, with Jessica as his wife.
“What are you getting Isabel?”
The question didn’t register for a long minute. “Why would you assume I’m giving her something?”
Grant feigned innocence. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you’ve been practically inseparable the past two weeks?”
Ben glanced around to be sure no one was close enough to overhear. So far, his sleeping arrangements—and Isabel’s part in the robbery—had remained a secret. She wouldn’t thank him if that news hit the local grapevine.
“In a professional capacity, might I remind you. We aren’t courting.” His hand closed over the saddle horn as their embrace taunted him. He couldn’t stop thinking about those fleeting moments when she was in his arms, yielding to whatever was pulling them together instead of fighting it. “Eli, on the other hand, could use shoes that fit him better. And some more clothes. Maybe a picture book, too. He loves it when Isa reads to him.”
“Isa, huh?”
Scowling, Ben guided his horse around a wide fissure in the ground. “Drop it, Parker.” A sudden flurry of activity to their right snagged his attention. “Looks like they found something. Let’s go check it out.”
When they arrived at the spot, farmer Lester Thomas broke apart from the group to address Ben. “It’s a squatter’s campsite, all right.” He spat a long stream of tobacco juice into the leaves and pointed to a crude fire pit. “Ashes are still warm.”
“There are signs of a lone horse,” Lester’s son called. He used his boot to dislodge debris from the hoofprints.
Ben and Grant dismounted and took their time inventorying the scene. As he riffled through the ashes with a stick, Grant’s features went taut. “How far are we from Isabel’s?” He kept his voice low.
These men were under the impression they were searching for a man who might have stolen Warring’s horse and been involved in the attempt on the bank. No one besides Grant knew about the connection to Isabel.
Ben spun in a slow circle and took note of the land features. “About half a mile. Maybe less.”
“Not a coincidence, I’d surmise.”
“No.” He struggled to keep his apprehension from showing. Crouching on the opposite side of the extinguished fire, he said, “So who is this guy? The thief who threatened Isabel’s life, biding his time until he can try to silence her? Eli’s mysterious caretaker? Or someone else with an entirely different motive we can only guess at?”
“Take your pick.”
“I’m tired of waiting around to find out.” He stood and, instructing those volunteers who could continue searching to do so, strode for his horse.
Grant followed. “What are you going to do?”
“What I should’ve done from the beginning,” he said. “I’m going to patrol the streets and lanes of this town until I catch him.”
“Oh, yeah? When do you plan to eat? Sleep?” Grant mounted his horse.
Back in the saddle, Ben resettled his hat on his head. “I’ll figure it out as I go.”
“I’ll help you.”
“I won’t be the reason you’re not at home with Jess. I enjoy her cooking too much to risk making her mad.”
“You’re only one man. With Shane in Norfolk, this town’s troubles have been falling to you. Let me help.” Grant’s gaze and voice were in one accord—he was intent on having his way, left over from his life as a marshal used to throwing his weight around. “I’m positive some of Jess’s cousins will pitch in, as well.”
“If you’re sure I won’t have a bevy of irate wives after me, I won’t turn away the assistance. Isabel and Eli deserve a hassle-free Christmas.”
Grant’s regard turned thoughtful. “What happens once you get the answers you seek? Will you bow out of their lives?”
The thought of living like the reserved strangers they used to be cut deep. “It’s what Isabel will want.”
That kiss was an aberration, a momentary lapse in judgment, a desperate attempt to assuage both their lonely hearts.
“What about you?”
“I’ve learned what I want doesn’t matter.”
Chapter Sixteen
Sometimes Isabel had full confidence in her ability to meet Eli’s needs. Other times, like this one, doubts poked that confidence full of pomander-sized holes. He’d woken from a brief nap in a terrible mood that lingered, no matter what she tried. She prayed for guidance and insight, keeping in mind that he was adrift in a new world. He was missing his mother. Confused by his guardian’s actions.
“I want Mama!” Thin arms folded tightly across his chest, his wooden horse trapped in the crook of his elbow, he refused to budge from the sofa.
The mantel clock struck six. Carmen was visiting a friend, and Honor was with John. It was going to be a long evening.
Isabel set the book she’d hoped to entice him wit
h on the cushion beside her. “I miss my mama, too.”
His dark brows furrowed. “You do?”
“Mmm-hmm.” She brought their one and only family photograph over and lightly tapped her mother’s image. “That’s her. Her name is Alma, and she lives in another town now. I don’t get to see her as often as I’d like.”
He scrutinized the photo with curious eyes. “Who’s that?”
Isabel frowned. “My papa, Manuel.”
“Where’s he?”
“He passed away.” She returned the frame to its usual spot.
“Like my mama.”
“Yes.”
“Are you sad?”
Isabel searched for the appropriate response. “I have been.” Sad that Manuel couldn’t hurt their family anymore? No. Sad that she’d missed out on a typical father-daughter relationship? Absolutely.
Eli tucked his chin under and pulled his horse up to hide his face. Her heart broke for him. Scooting closer, she rubbed his back.
“Eli, I know you’re missing your mother and the home you shared with her. That’s okay. That’s to be expected. You can talk about her as much or as little as you want.” He shifted his head so that his right cheek rested on the horse’s head, but he didn’t meet her gaze. “I want you to know that you don’t have to worry about the future. You have a home here with me.”
He sat up, the wariness in his eyes out of place in such a young child. “I can stay here forever?”
She smiled. “Would you like that?”
“Can I sleep in the hut with Mr. Ben sometimes?”
Isabel couldn’t keep her surprise from showing. “Ben won’t be camping out there for long. He has his own cabin closer to town.”
“Oh.”
Grateful he didn’t ask why Ben was staying on their property, she reached for the book. “Living here means you’ll get to go to school eventually and learn to read. You won’t have to wait for one of us to read you stories—you’ll be able to do it yourself.”
He didn’t look cheered by the notion. “My mama used to sing a lot.”
“She did?”
“She sang to me and the baby in her tummy.”
Shock reverberated through her. Surely she’d heard wrong. “Eli, are you saying you have a sibling?”
He scrunched his nose. “What’s that?”
“A sibling is a brother or sister.”
He shrugged and plucked at the horse’s yarn hair.
At the heavy tread on the porch, Isabel left Eli to peer through the window. The sight of Ben’s profile caused her heart to leap with equal parts anticipation and relief. This latest revelation added a layer of troubling intrigue to Eli’s past, and she was eager to hear Ben’s take on it. He might possibly summon conclusions beyond her realm of experience.
When she swung the door open to grant him entrance, he was scanning the property as if his sight enabled him to see through night’s cloak of darkness. His black coat molded to his broad shoulders and muscular arms, and he looked every inch the strong, commanding lawman. He turned his head, and that intense gaze punched into her. Secrets shared between them swirled in the vivid depths. Was it possible he’d grown more handsome? Before their paths collided this Christmas season, she’d never given much thought to what she found attractive in a man. Certainly she hadn’t thought about hair color. Now she was convinced red was the way to go, rich, vibrant and gleaming where it caressed his pale skin. She’d run her fingers through those silken strands and would dearly like to do it again.
His mouth was pensive tonight, unlike when he’d dared kiss her. Then, those sculpted lips had been soft and molding, exquisitely tender, evoking dreams of romantic fairy tales.
“Evenin’, Isabel.” He raised his brows. “May I come in?”
Startled out of her reverie, she flushed. Had he guessed the direction of her thoughts?
“Of course.” Shutting out the cold, she pointed to the square piece of white gauze above his eyebrow. “How’s your wound?”
“I’d forgotten it was there.” He lifted his hat and, setting it on the table, scraped his hand over his bristled jaw.
“You look exhausted.”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “That bad, huh? I’ve been in the saddle much of the day.”
“You do smell like horse and leather. And spruce trees.”
“Anything else?”
“Maybe a little like a campfire.”
“Maybe I should come back in the morning.” He slapped his gloves against his pant legs, his exaggerated frown at odds with the twinkle in his eyes.
Isabel cast a quick glance at Eli, who was watching them over the top of the sofa. She leaned close. “I’m actually glad you’re here.”
He repeated her action, bringing his lips perilously close to her ear. “And why is that, sugarplum?”
His peppermint-scented breath stirred her hair. Tingles of awareness sizzled across her nape. “Someone’s having a rough evening.”
His attention swerved to Eli, which made it easier for her to breathe. No more teasing. No more thoughts about ill-advised midnight kisses, either.
“How’s my favorite little man?”
Ben’s query was met with a shrug.
“Would you like a glass of milk, Eli?” she interjected.
“Okay.”
“Stay here while I go in the kitchen with Ben.”
Ben followed her to the kitchen and took up a post in the doorway so he could watch Eli. “He’s not acting like himself,” he said quietly. “He’s not getting ill, is he?”
“He woke up from his nap crying. I think he had another bad dream.”
The doorjamb supporting his weight, he angled his head toward her. The intermittent light around the cabin glinted off his badge. He was wearing a white shirt with thin caramel stripes underneath his tan vest. A sage-colored cotton scarf kept his neck warm.
“About his ma?”
“I’m not sure.” She removed a glass from the hutch and placed it on the counter. “Ben, he said something tonight that troubles me.”
The shadows beneath his eyes seemed to deepen.
“He said his mother was pregnant. When I asked if he had a brother or sister, he wouldn’t say.”
His jaw went slack. With a quick glance toward the living room, he crossed to where she was standing near the stove. “Do you believe he’s talking about something that really happened, or is it the product of an active imagination?”
“He was serious.” Somehow her hand came to rest on his chest. “Ben, what if Eli’s mother died in childbirth?”
His chest rose and fell in a ragged breath. He pinched his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “If Shane was here, he’d have found this guy already. He would’ve gotten the answers you seek.”
“I understand you’re frustrated. So am I. But you’ve done the best you could with what little you have to go on. It’s not like you can interrogate a small child, especially one who’s suffered a trauma.”
He sighed and shook his head.
“What more could the sheriff have done that you haven’t?” Beneath her splayed fingers, his muscles bunched. His solid warmth flowed into her palm and traveled a languorous path up her arm. She surreptitiously lowered her arm to her side.
His gaze became hooded. “I don’t like feeling as if I’ve failed you. Or that boy in there.”
“Trust me, you haven’t. You’ve watched over us. Made us feel safe. You’ve championed my cause. That’s not what I consider failure.”
Ben reached up and smoothed a stray tendril behind her ear. “I want you to get your heart’s desire, Isa. Raising Eli on your own, independent of any man.”
What had once been her ideal now struck her as hollow. Because of Ben.
I
sabel would take that secret to the grave. He was a committed bachelor and she an avowed spinster.
“In order to accomplish that, I need to find the person who dropped him here. Any lawyer worth his salt will want to know we’ve exhausted all resources in our search for extended family members. Constantly worrying about someone coming to claim him will wear away at your peace.”
* * *
Ben’s focus wasn’t on his task, and his finger came in contact with the hot pan. He tried to hide his wince, but as he lifted his sore finger to his mouth, Isabel shot him a knowing look.
“I had no idea you were so prone to accidents, Deputy.”
“It’s your fault,” he quipped. “Being around you distracts me.”
Beneath her plain white apron, she wore his favorite plum-colored blouse and matching dangly earrings. The outfit, combined with her intricate and severe French braid, hinted at a dour librarian persona. Ben knew better. The woman he’d held in his arms was vibrant and giving.
And beyond reach. Or did you conveniently push that tidbit to the recesses of your mind?
She watched over Eli as he transferred the cookies to a plate. “I wasn’t there when you tested your hard head against a fence post.”
“True. Turns out your presence isn’t necessary. Thoughts of you are enough to pose a danger.”
She frowned, and her dark eyes grew troubled.
“Done!” Eli set the spatula down with a clatter. “Can I eat one now?”
“Yes, you may.” Isabel handed him a warm cookie. “You and Ben worked hard on these.”
Eli’s smile smacked of contentment. They’d managed to cajole him out of his cranky mood by making plans for a Christmas tree and myriad decorations. Then Isabel had suggested making cookies, and the boy had leaped at the chance, as any child would’ve done.
The three of them alone in the cabin, doing domestic things, was wreaking havoc on his heavily fortified defenses. Maybe it was the atmosphere of hope this season imparted. Carolers in the streets, happy shoppers and satisfied shopkeepers, extra time set aside for family and friends, the planning of gifts. Or maybe it was the change in his and Isabel’s relationship and the fact that her home felt like a haven.