A Lawman For Christmas. Karen Kirst
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“Was there anything else?” She raised her eyebrows. “Because I have work to do.”
“Do the Gallatins frequently give you trouble? When I walked in, you looked about five seconds away from wielding your dagger.”
“They’re more of an annoyance than anything.” She lifted her chin. “Besides, I can take care of myself. My sisters and I have been on our own for nearly two years and have managed just fine.”
“I admire your grit.” He also admired her dogged commitment to her siblings and their livelihood. Her spunk. Plainspoken manner. Her courage. The list went on. “About what happened last night—”
“I’m fine, Deputy. Truly.”
“That’s what I thought after my first brush with violence. In the coming days and weeks, you may have nightmares. You might feel jumpy, even frightened for no reason at all. It’s important you talk to someone.” At the instant refusal forming on her lips, he wagged his index finger. “Doesn’t have to be me. You could wait and speak to Shane when he returns next month. Or I could round up a woman who’s experienced similar circumstances. The point is, you’re not alone.”
Her inner struggle was evident. “Thank you,” she finally allowed. “I’ll keep your advice in mind.”
With no other excuse to linger, Ben bade her goodbye, his thoughts lingering on the beautiful miller for a long while after. He spent the afternoon informing Main Street’s business owners of the need to be cautious. The thief had one of two choices, either accept his failure here and move on, or bide his time and try again. They had to be prepared for him to choose the latter.
Having been invited to dine with his good friends the Parkers, he arrived anticipating a pleasant evening in their company. A former US marshal, Grant Parker understood the rigors of Ben’s profession. His wife, Jessica, was part of the O’Malley clan, two large families who’d resided in the Smoky Mountains for decades. The redheaded beauty was sharp as a tack and outspoken. She was one of a handful of women, including Shane’s wife, Allison, and the Plum Café owner’s wife, Ellie, who openly took him to task over his heartbreaker reputation.
As soon as they welcomed him into their home, he sensed a charge in the atmosphere. The husband and wife tended to be affectionate. This night, however, there was an added significance to their exchanges. Ben shelved his curiosity until Jessica placed three hefty slices of dried blueberry cake drizzled with icing on the table.
As tempting as the dessert was, he didn’t immediately reach for his fork. He folded his arms across his chest and winced when the stitches pulled the tender skin. “All right. Out with it.”
Grant stopped chewing midbite, his blue gaze startled. Jessica’s fork halted halfway to her mouth. Blushing to the roots of her hair, she lowered the utensil to the plate and took a sip of milk, not the coffee she typically enjoyed with her dessert.
“We should’ve known you’d guess something was amiss,” she said.
Grant chased his cake with a long draw of coffee. Setting the mug down, he ran a hand over his short blond hair. “You’re right. He’s not one to miss details.”
“Noticing details has helped preserve my life. In addition to God’s protection, of course,” he pointed out. “What’s the big secret?”
Jessica found Grant’s hand atop the table and threaded their fingers together. “We’re not quite ready to share this news with anyone outside the family. However, you eat at our table often enough to be considered family.” She shot him an arch smile.
Ben studied their faces, certain what was to come next. He braced himself. Visualized his cheerful response. It had to be a balance of enthusiasm and happiness for the deserving couple.
“We’re having a baby.”
Ben felt his mouth stretching into a smile—a convincing one, he hoped. “That’s wonderful news.”
Sliding his chair back, he moved to hug Jessica, who surreptitiously swiped at her eyes. Grant stood and accepted his bear hug and hearty pats on the back. Still gripping his friend’s shoulders, Ben eased back. “I’m thrilled for you both.”
A flicker of concern temporarily dampened Grant’s expression. Before the other man could voice his thoughts, Ben returned to his seat.
“When’s the bundle of joy set to arrive?”
“Midsummer.” Grant held Jessica close. “Probably late July.”
Wonder and excitement made her eyes shine. The couple had been married more than two years. They must’ve wondered if they’d be able to have children. It occurred to Ben that they’d been happy without children, but then, they hadn’t entered the marriage aware that having a baby wasn’t even a possibility. He couldn’t think of a single woman who’d willingly agree to a childless union.
The summer before his twentieth birthday, he’d suffered a terrible illness that many had feared he’d succumb to. His parents and sisters, along with his fiancée, Marianne Ogden, had kept vigil at his bedside. And while he’d eventually recovered, it hadn’t been without cost. The long bout of mumps had led to complications. Rare ones, his doctor had implied, but they did occur. Ben would not be able to father a child.
He dug into his cake with false enthusiasm. “You’ll be pleased to know I’m available to be the official baby spoiler,” he quipped, winking at Jessica.
“I imagine you’d take quite well to that task,” she responded. “And one day, when the right woman lassoes your heart, I’ll return the favor with your kids.”
Grant grimaced. Ben shot him a quelling look. Of Gatlinburg’s population, Grant Parker was the only soul who knew Ben’s secret. And he was determined to keep it that way.
Isabel was closing the mill the following evening when a male figure separated from the shadows.
“Evenin’, sugarplum.”
She jumped and would’ve screamed if her lantern light hadn’t spilled over his all-too-familiar features.
“You again!” She pressed her hand to her throat. “This is becoming a habit.”
An annoying one, at that.
“I apologize for frightening you.”
Ben was dressed in his Sunday best, a black suit that enhanced his vibrant coloring. His hair was combed neatly off his forehead, and his lean cheeks had recently seen a razor blade. The suit jacket molded to his firm shoulders and hung straight to his hips, where the slight bulge of his weapon was noticeable. A navy-and-black plaid wool scarf was wrapped about his neck.
She resisted the urge to ask him where he was headed. Probably to some young lady’s house to engage in what he did best—making women fall in love with him with very little effort.
“I have news to share.” His breath created white clouds in the still air. “This afternoon, I received a response from the Pigeon Forge sheriff’s office. One of their banks was hit in the wee hours of the morning. The perp’s still in the area.”
Freeing her braid from beneath her cloak, she set out for the cabin. Ben fell into step beside her.
“How can you be sure it’s the same man?”
“I can’t, not for sure. We haven’t had any robberies of this type—attempted or otherwise—for nine months or so. However, given our town’s proximity, I’m inclined to believe it is.”
Ascending the stairs, she paused on the porch and curved her hand around the nearest post. “If I promise to be alert to any hint of danger, will you cease these unexpected visits?”
He’d remained on the bottom step,