The Lawman's Christmas Wish (8 page)

“Until after Christmas.”

“Why? Is something wrong?”

She told him about the threat. He hissed through his teeth.

“I don't like the sound of that.”

“Me, either. That's why I'm here.”

“No other reason?”

The question caught Amy off guard. Her gaze faltered, falling away from Reed's ruggedly handsome face. She turned her back, suddenly uncomfortable, though she couldn't pinpoint the reason.

She moved toward the fireplace, its heat rising up like warm fingers to caress her skin. She could feel Reed standing behind her, but he hadn't moved.

This evening they'd read together and his arm had pressed
against hers, his breath warm, his woodsy outdoor scent filling her nostrils. But a Christmas tree had been too much to ask.

“Reed is the police chief. Protecting threatened citizens is his duty.”

A truth that chaffed like a week in wet boots. She didn't want him to feel responsible, she wanted… Amy wasn't sure what she wanted, but it certainly wasn't duty.

“Okay.” Ethan didn't sound as if he quite believed her.

Was he jealous of Reed? It had been so long since any man had showed her that kind of authentic personal attention, she was flustered.

“The pageant is coming together,” she said, more for something to say than anything else.

“You're safe with me, Amy.”

“I know that.”

“Then let me take you out Saturday.”

Amy's pulse jumped. “Take me out? Out where?”

“Wherever you say. We could have dinner at Martelli's or we could take a snowmobile up the mountain.”

She hadn't done that in a while. Once, she'd guided tours alongside Ben and the other guides, but since the children had come along, she'd kept to the office to be near them. “I haven't been snowmobiling in a long time.”

“Let's go then. Will two o'clock Saturday afternoon be all right?”

Did she really want to do this? With him? “I don't know. Let me check and get back to you, okay?”

“Check? With who? Reed Truscott?”

The question rankled. “My schedule.”

By now she was out of the mood to say yes. Besides, Ethan worked for her part-time. Mixing business with pleasure might not be a good idea.

But she and Ben had.

Annoyed with her indecision, she turned to find Reed still
standing in the doorway, staring at her. She waved him away, but he didn't budge.

“Hang up,” he mouthed.

Amy glared at him, incredulous, and whispered, “Go away.”

Ethan's shocked voice responded, “What?”

“Nothing. Never mind. Ethan, I need to go. I'll talk to you later, okay?”

“Check your schedule then, and we'll talk at practice in a couple of days.”

“Right. Sure. See you.” With relief, Amy clicked the end button. “What was so important that you had to interrupt a personal call?”

“If you're looking for a husband, I already offered. All you have to do is say the word.”

Amy's hackles rose. Through gritted teeth, she said, “I am not looking for a husband.”

“You barely know that guy.”

“Don't be ridiculous. Ethan works for me.” She was so annoyed, she whipped around to leave. Reed's voice stopped her.

“I thought we were going out for a tree.”

Amy's mouth gaped. “You said no.”

He slapped both hands on his hipbones. “I changed my mind.”

“So did I.” With that, she flounced up the stairs and left him standing.

 

Reed was still there, hands on hips, staring dumbfounded at the empty stairs, when Granny sashayed through the hall, Sammy and Dexter trailing happily behind. “What did you do? Make her mad?”

“Something like that. Not sure what I did.”

“Doofus,” Granny said affectionately. “Well, me and the
boys are going out for pizza. You and Amy fend for yourselves.” She patted her purse. “Don't worry. I'm armed and dangerous. Nobody is gonna bother Sammy and Dexter with me around.”

He didn't doubt that one bit. Granny had taught him gun safety and shooting. She was better with a firearm than most men, a fact that she proved year after year when she bagged a moose and supplied enough meat for months.

“You're going out? But I thought I smelled something cooking.”

“For you and Amy.” She slid her skinny arms into a coat and yanked the zipper to her chin. “Me and the fellas want pizza. Right, boys?”

“Yep.” Both boys nodded. They were bundled so tightly into parkas, their little faces were the only visible skin. “Mama said okay.”

Reed glanced upward. Granny had declared the upper half of the house off-limits “on account of propriety” she claimed. Fine with him.

“Apologize for whatever you did and get it over with.” Granny pointed a gloved finger at him. “Don't argue with me, either.”

She was half his size, but he never argued with Granny. She had more ways to make him miserable—and happy—than a salmon had eggs. Kind of like Amy. While he was pondering his next move, she and Amy's sons headed for the pizza parlor.

The door had no more than snapped shut behind them when Amy appeared at the top of the stairs, still holding the troublesome cell phone. Was she waiting for Ethan Eckles to call again? Or some other guy? Half the men in town had proposed to her in the last six months. So far, she hadn't taken any of them seriously. But she'd seemed interested in snowmobiling with Eckles.

Amy stared him down, sparks shooting from her blue eyes, shoulders squared. “Granny said dinner was ready, and I'm hungry.”

So was he. “I'm free Saturday. We'll get the stupid tree.”

The sound of Amy's laughter followed him.

“D
on't apologize just because Granny told you to.”

Amy had started down the stairs, drawn by the delicious smell of a casserole filling the house. Granny Crisp was an amazing cook. She was also up to something. Her sudden hankering for pizza with Sammy and Dexter didn't ring true.

“I'm not.”

Holding on to the rail with one hand, Amy paused on the bottom step. “You're not apologizing at all, or you're not apologizing because Granny made you?”

“What did I do, anyway?”

Amy snorted. The man was clueless. “Will you really go with us to get a tree?”

“Said I would.”

“Don't sound so thrilled. We'll have fun, I promise.”

“We're taking the snowmobiles.” His tone was a challenge, as though he expected her to argue. She wouldn't. A Christmas tree with all the trimmings was especially important to her and the boys this year. And she was just beginning to realize that Reed needed an extra dose of Christmas himself.

“Great. I'll fix a thermos of hot cocoa. We'll bundle up, sing carols and make a morning of it. It'll be so much fun.”

“Fine. Let's eat.” He spun on his sock feet and headed toward the kitchen.

As she followed, Amy observed the tense set of Reed's wide shoulders. They had been friends for a long time, and yet she was only just beginning to understand him. Well, maybe not that much, but a little. A man who never put up a Christmas tree was a lonely man. A little sad even, to her way of thinking.

The truth of that hit her right between the eyes. Lonely? Ultrabusy Police Chief Reed Truscott?

A new determination settled into her bones. She, Sammy and Dexter would make Christmas extra special for Chief Truscott, too. It was the least she could do to repay his hospitality and his loyal, if somewhat overbearing, need to take care of Ben's family.

“I'll set the table,” she said. Reed was leaned over the oven with a dish towel in hand. “Better use the oven mitt.”

He paid her no mind, extracting an oval dish of chicken and rice with the dish towel and a foil-wrapped pack with his bare hand. He juggled the foil packet a couple of times before tossing it onto the counter.

“Stubborn,” Amy said, looking up from setting out two plates.

“Takes one to know one.” He thumped the chicken dish down in front of her and grinned.

She grinned back. “At least I admit it.”

He grunted. This time Amy laughed out loud.

“Are you going out with Eckles again?”

Ah, so that was a problem.
“I don't know. He's a nice guy but…”

“He's not Ben.”

“I wasn't going to say that, but there'll never be another Ben.”

“No.” He took two glasses from the cabinet and filled them with water. “I miss him. Must be a lot worse for you.”

His admission touched her. “It's getting easier.”

Amy was no longer surprised by that fact. It
was
getting easier.

“Good. I'm glad.” He handed her one of the water tumblers.

“He wouldn't want you to hurt.”

“No, he wouldn't.” She thought again of that last letter and his request. Ben not only didn't want her to grieve, he wanted her to move on without him.

“He wouldn't be too happy about the recent turn of events, either,” Reed was saying. “Somebody threatening his family would have struck a mighty big nerve. He'd kick my backside if I didn't do my best to take care of you.”

“You're doing that, Reed, and I'm grateful.” Amy added paper napkins from a drawer, her stomach rumbling with eagerness at the warm, homey scents of the kitchen. “Even if I don't act like it sometimes.”

He took salt and pepper shakers from the cabinet and set them, along with his water, on the table. “So you're okay with this living arrangement? Here, with me and Granny? I know it wasn't your favorite idea.”

Okay with it? With memories of the letter lingering, Amy held her breath, afraid the conversation might lead to another awkward marriage proposal. She was here to protect her babies, not to find a husband. Wasn't she?

“Not in the beginning, but the boys, especially Sammy, seem more secure since we moved in.” She paused, fingertips tracing the soft lace on the white tablecloth. “I wish I was enough for them, but I guess I'm not.”

“Hey, don't beat yourself up.” Reed gave her a gentle bump with one elbow. “They've been through a lot. You're a great mom.”

Reed Truscott was not one to hand out compliments like
Santa handed out candy canes. Amy turned to say thanks, but the words died in her throat as their eyes met. Something weird happened in her chest. An expansion, as if her heart was fuller because of his unexpected praise.

Their gazes locked and held for several long seconds. Inside the gruff exterior of Reed Truscott beat the heart of a good man. She wondered if he knew that. She wondered if anyone, particularly a woman, had ever appreciated the real Reed.

Amy placed a hand on his arm. “That means a lot to me, Reed.”

He swallowed and took a step back. Her hand fell away. “Dinner's on. Sit.”

Just like that, Amy caught a glimmer inside the chief of police. Tenderness made him uncomfortable. The question was why? And what could she do about it? She'd grown up in a household of huggers and touchers, a family that nurtured and loved, and so she'd become the same kind of openly affectionate person. Now she wondered what Reed's childhood had been like.

Thoughtful, she took the chair he held, and the meal commenced with a clatter of dishes and compliments to the missing chef. Even though Amy helped out around the house, Granny Crisp usually had the cooking underway before Amy got home from work.

She moved the conversation to neutral ground: tours she'd booked; the library council they were both on; the Christmas pageant. She was pleased when he said he'd enjoyed Pastor Ed's sermon on Sunday, but she knew better than to push. She'd keep praying and inviting, and the Spirit would do the rest. Before long, they were both chuckling over Granny's recent tree-climbing incident.

“Age will never hold Granny back,” Reed said.

“I hope I'm like her when I'm in my seventies.”

“I'm not sure the world can handle two like her.” The comment was tempered with a smile.

“Do you think the boys asked for pizza, or is she up to something?”

“Up to something,” Reed said around a hearty bite of casserole. “Always is.”

He ripped off a chunk of bread and reached for the butter. The police chief could pile butter or gravy on everything and not gain an ounce. “She's crazy about Sam and Dexter.”

He was right. Granny adored her sons.

“And beneath that sourdough attitude, Granny is a peace-maker. If we fight, she'll force us to make up.”

He made them sound like newlyweds. Amy wondered if he thought Granny was trying to push them together—as a couple. She'd seen other subtle signs of matchmaking, but tonight Granny had been especially obvious. She started to ask, then thought better of it. They were having a pleasant dinner. No use bringing up an uncomfortable subject.

“I never intended to fight with you,” she said instead.

He made a snorting noise. “You fight with me all the time. If I say yes, you say no.”

“And vice versa.”

He tilted his head to one side, lips tilted in amusement.

“True. You're fun to spar with.”

“I am?” She and Ben had never “sparred.” But Reed Truscott could get her blood racing faster than anyone. He made her feel energized. Exhilarated. Alive.

Oh, dear.

Amy took a long drink of water, trying to wash down the irrational thoughts that pinged in her brain like BBs. She and Reed had been having dinner together every evening for nearly a week. Granted, the three pizza eaters were usually present, but there was no reason for her to start thinking of Reed as anything but a friend and the local law enforcement.

Certainly not as a man.

But he
was
a man. A strong man with rugged good looks that had more than one of the newly arrived women stopping by the police station for directions or to express their appreciation for the police force with cookies and cakes and telephone numbers.

A smart woman would appreciate the value of a man like Reed Truscott.

The incessant thoughts kept right on pinging. To shut them up, she said, “Well, I'm not sparring with you tonight. What do you want for Christmas?”

He stopped chewing and laid aside his fork, his head tilted to one side as though he couldn't comprehend her language.

“What?”

“Christmas? As in a present? What do you want Santa to put under your tree?”

“Told you, I never put up a tree.”

“I know that already, but this year you will.” She jabbed a finger at him. “You promised.”

His lips quivered. “Guess so.”

“Don't try to back out now, buddy boy. There will be big trouble if you do.”

“Yeah? More sparring?” The quiver became a full-blown grin. An ornery one.

Feeling silly and light, Amy flipped the ends of her hair. “I happen to know the chief of police.”

“Heard he was a tough rascal, but fair-minded.” Reed rubbed a thumb and forefinger over his chin in mock seriousness. “Handsome dog, too, from all reports.”

Amy said, “Ha!” and tossed a wadded napkin at him. Dark eyes sparkling in fun, he caught it with one hand and tossed it back, smacking her lightly on the shoulder.

“This could be war, you know.” She bent to retrieve the fallen napkin. When she raised her head again, Reed had made
a pile of at least half a dozen napkins wadded into balls next to his now-empty plate. He was rolling yet another into shape, eyeing her with devious intent.

“Wow, you're fast.”

“You declared war. A smart man prepares for battle.”

Amy grabbed for the napkins, but before she could shape even one, a wad thunked the top of her head. She dove under the table, clutching a handful of napkins.

Suddenly, Reed was behind her pelting her back and shoulders for all he was worth.

Cy, who'd been lying under the table at first, belly-crawled out. His offended expression was absolutely comical.

“Escape while you can, Cy,” Amy said, giggling until her return fire was weak and useless.

By now, Reed had run out of napkins and was scurrying around the kitchen in sock feet to retrieve the paper wads. Amy saw her chance and came out from under the table blasting. Reed spun, trying to dodge the volley. His socks slipped and he tumbled down, all six-foot-something sprawling across Granny's linoleum.

Sputtering with laughter while hoping he wasn't hurt, Amy hurried across the room. “You okay?”

She stood over him, looking down into his face. He was grinning.

“I'll be fine in a minute,” he said.

When Amy offered a helping hand, he took it—and yanked. Down she went.

He was wide and long and there was no way she could keep from falling directly against him. She heard an “oof” as she caught herself with both hands against his chest and pushed back.

“Now I'm fine,” he said.

“You rat.”

Serious Reed Truscott laughed harder than she'd ever seen
him laugh. Amy couldn't resist. She stuck a paper wad in his mouth.

Then she hopped up and ran like a turkey on Thanksgiving.

Cy barked once and followed.

Reed's heavy footsteps thundered after them.

“Be careful,” Amy called. “You'll fall down again.”

A misguided wad of paper was her answer.

He rounded the corner into the living room where she'd taken refuge behind the couch.

“You can run but you can't hide.”

She covered her head with both arms, giggling as he peppered her with all the wadded napkins at once.

“Truce! Truce!” she called. “Can't you see my white flag?” With pitiful effort, she waved a wrinkled, unfolded napkin. “You surrendering?”

“I have to. I'm out of ammo.”

“Say ‘Uncle.'”

“You are so mean.”

Another wad bounced off her ear. “Say it.”

Amy giggled. “Uncle.”

Reed collapsed on the couch, huffing and puffing.

Amy plopped down beside him with a loud “Whew!”

They were both grinning like kids. She stuck her tongue out at him. “I had my fingers crossed.”

He rolled his head in her direction. “Cheater.”

This close, she noticed the brackets accenting his mouth and the tiny crinkles at the corners of his eyes. She noticed the outdoorsy scent of him, too, and most of all, she noticed how good she felt to be having so much fun with a man she admired and respected. Reed could annoy and exasperate her like no one else, but tonight he'd made her feel carefree and happy again. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? Amy
wasn't sure, but for now she let the worry slide away. For now, they were two friends enjoying time together.

“Why suddenly so serious?”

She shook her head, not about to tell him what she'd been thinking. “Just wondering.”

“What? Where you can get something more powerful than paper napkins to pummel me with?”

“Not at the moment. But be warned, I will.” She gave him her meanest look. His nostrils flared in amusement. “Actually, I was thinking about Christmas.”

He thumped the back of his head against the couch and groaned. “Figures.”

“Seriously. Don't you and Granny exchange Christmas gifts?”

“Back to that, huh?”

“Well, do you or not?”

“Not. If I want something, I buy it. She does the same.”

“But that's not the point. It's Christmas!” Amy, a devoted Christmas nut, was astonished and horrified. “It's your sworn duty to want something under the tree.”

Reed's lips twitched. “Sworn duty?”