Christmas Kiss From The Sheriff

“Is he married?”

The woman eyed her with curiosity. “Heard tell he was engaged. Some young woman from his hometown up north of here, but I ain’t never heard of her coming to visit.”

Gemma should be breathing easier by the minute. The Sheriff had a sweetheart. “Well, that has to be the best news I’ve heard all day. Perhaps once he marries he’ll stop coming by the school and criticizing me.”

Molly chuckled. “Oh, he was likely only trying to help. My Mort was the same. Men always think we gals need answers like we can’t figure things out for ourselves. We just go about it different is all.”

“I didn’t like it,” she said stubbornly, unwilling to give the good sheriff an inch of grace.

“Well, seems you had quite a day, all told.”

Gemma snapped out the wet dishtowel and then took her time spreading it out to dry over the back of the kitchen chair. “Yes,” she murmured. “Quite a day.”

Chapter Three

Craig Parker stood with his weight shifted to one leg while he leaned against a support four-by-four in the back of the town hall. He crossed his arms over his chest and listened to the proceedings of the Clear Springs School Board meeting. The board was made up of four men, each with children benefitting from the education Miss Starling was handing out. Patrick Tanner was the head of the board and had done the hiring of the new teacher. With four children in the school—two girls and two boys—he had a keen interest in seeing they were educated. Tanner had come with his wife. She, along with Mrs. Winters contributed enough of their opinions that it was obvious they felt their own particular viewpoints should be written into school law.

None of it mattered much to him. He didn’t have kids in school. He hadn’t even planned to be here tonight, especially after Miss Starling’s sound refusal of any kind of help yesterday, but ever since then her abrupt attitude had sat crooked in his judgment. He couldn’t reconcile that woman with the one he’d seen playing in the schoolyard and the one the children liked. It was enough that he wondered about her. He had to trust his gut feelings. They were there for a reason. He’d learned that well enough from Sheriff Talbot in the time he’d worked as his deputy. So here he was...

Tonight Miss Starling wore a dark, forest green skirt and pale green blouse. A fitted vest made of the same stiff dark green material as her skirt gave her the no-nonsense appearance that she seemed determined to portray—at least around adults. She appeared at once appealing and distant. As though a body would have to wrangle through a stiff layer of starch and burrs to find the real woman underneath.

She sat looking reserved and collected among the others in the small circle of chairs, her appearance calm with the exception that she kept fingering the high lace collar at her neck as though it was too tight. Something had her on edge. No one else in the room seemed aware of it however, but he couldn’t help but notice everything about her, from the thick dark brown braided bun at the back of her head that seemed to prop up her felt bonnet, to the tips of her newly blackened shoes.

She was pretty, all right. He’d noticed that when he’d gone to the party dedicating the new schoolhouse in September. He hadn’t danced with her. She had been busy enough with meeting all the parents and their children, so other than a very brief introduction, he’d stood back and observed. Since then he had seen her a few times a week from the doorway of his office as she walked past on her way to the school, her pert little nose in the air and a resolute expression on her face.

That’s all he would do—look. He’d had all he could take of a woman messing with his mind. After Charlotte scorched his pride when she chose his brother over him, he intended to steer clear of the female half of the world and tend to his job.

The door behind him opened, letting a brace of cold air swirl into the room. He straightened away from the post and turned to see Ryan Philmont enter. The tall, lanky man dismissed him with an uninterested glance and then strolled toward the small circle of people with a swagger and confidence that said he belonged there despite the fact he wasn’t a member of the school board.

“Philmont,” Tanner said by way of acknowledgement. His wife puckered her face with disapproval of the man.

Ryan Philmont smiled—an oily smile if there ever was one—and tipped his hat to Mrs. Tanner and then to Miss Starling before removing it, slicking back his black hair with his hand. “It can’t hurt to know what my son is being taught now can it? Especially after his fight yesterday.”

“Fight?” Mrs. Winters gasped. “I hadn’t heard about any fight!”

Neither had Craig.

“Guess you haven’t got to that part of the meeting.” Philmont slipped into a vacant chair, slightly apart from the circle of board members.

The look he turned on Miss Starling was a mite too condescending in Craig’s estimation. For a moment she maintained a tight smile, but then her dark lashes shuttered down. After her self-assurance at the school, Craig wondered that Philmont could bully her so easily. He also wondered if she had hoped to get through the meeting without calling attention to the fight.

“My son been behaving in school?” Philmont asked.

She notched up her chin. “I don’t think this is the right time to discuss indi—”

“You stopped the fight...but only after they’d been going at it for a time. Only after that Odom boy knocked out a tooth from my boy’s mouth.”

Her mouth dropped open and she leaned forward. “Is Duncan all right now?”

“Seems you should have asked that right after it happened yesterday.”

She frowned. “I believe speaking with Mr. Odom would be the correct course here as it was his son involved with yours.”

Ryan smirked. “Right. He’s long gone. Left his family high and dry.”

“That’s enough, Ryan,” Mr. Tanner interjected. “Miss Starling shouldn’t have to referee any fights. That’s not why we hired her.”

Philmont snorted. “I said to hire a man, but you wouldn’t listen. Good thing Duncan only has till the end of the year.” He settled back into his chair, drawing up his leg and resting his foot on his other knee.

Craig had never gotten on with Philmont. The man thought he was somebody big in this small town. Since he ran the land office, anyone with a claim had to go through him to own it legally. Craig didn’t have an issue with the way he did his job—only his attitude about it and nearly everything else.

He hadn’t planned on staying the entire meeting, but now, seeing how Philmont had planted himself for the duration, Craig reconsidered. He’d stay awhile and see how things shook out. He took a seat near the door—close enough to listen but far enough away to make the point that they needn’t include him.

The meeting continued for another thirty minutes. Talk of the coming Christmas presentation by the children had the women getting all a-flutter and putting in their two bits. Women sure thought things down to the smallest of details. Holly sprigs? Mistletoe? Nice but wholly unnecessary by his way of thinking. Somewhere between the pies and the eggnog he stifled a huge yawn.

Tanner followed suit thirty seconds later. “I think we’ve covered most of the items we needed to discuss,” he said, breaking into the conversation.

“Not quite,” Miss Starling said in her clear northeastern accent, raising a finger for attention while she glanced down at her notes. “I wonder if I might have permission for one of the older boys to do custodial help about the school. Things like cleaning out the ashes in the woodstove and sweeping the floors after class. And for the winter, starting a fire in the stove to warm the room before school starts every day.”

Mr. Philmont immediately lifted his chin. “Not Duncan. He helps me at the land office.”

“’Fraid we can’t afford that,” Tanner said. “And when you signed your contract...”

She pressed her lips together. “I am aware of what I signed. I was thinking that the chore would help foster responsibility in one of the boys. Not necessarily your son, Mr. Philmont.”

Craig about choked on her dig. His gaze sliced to Philmont. The man didn’t even comprehend the double meaning of her words. Or if he did, he wasn’t about to acknowledge that he had been one-upped by a woman. From the determined expression on Miss Starling’s face, she wasn’t about to give up her quest for help. Like just about any woman he knew, she was a woman who bristled at the word no.

The meeting ended and Craig stood with the others. Miss Starling neared, deep in conversation with Mrs. Winters. She stopped when she came abreast of him.

“Sheriff Parker. I am surprised to see you here.”

He cleared his throat. “Thought I’d walk you home.”

Was that fear in her eyes? It disappeared so fast he wasn’t sure.

“I’m capable of seeing myself to the boarding house.”

Considering the way things had gone between them at the school, he was ready for her rebuff. “It’s not an offer. There is something I need to discuss with you.”

She pressed her lips together. The effort brought out her dimples.

“Official business,” he said, gruffly.

“Oh,” she said, her voice tight with resignation. “I’ll get my coat.”

He slipped his Stetson on and headed outside to wait.

* * *

On Main Street, the others had all started toward their homes with the exception of Patrick Tanner and his wife.

“First time I’ve seen you at one of these meetings,” Tanner said, tugging his coat closer to ward off the wind.

Craig shrugged. “Thought it was about time.”

Tanner’s gaze flitted back into the meeting room for a second, and then he turned back to Craig and lowered his voice. “Do you ride by the school much?”

“On my rounds. Two, three times a week. What’s on your mind?” It was obvious Tanner was mulling something over.

“Sounds like these older boys could be more than Miss Starling can handle.”

“Maybe you should have taken Philmont up on his idea and hired a man.”

“Tried to. Right after we lost Miss Talloway to marrying last March. I was sick and tired of hiring a new teacher every year—sometimes two in a year. Single gals just don’t last long around here. Even the older ones get snapped up.”

Craig commiserated with him, but didn’t see what could be done to change things now. Miss Starling had already signed a contract.

“I brought up hiring a man at the town hall meeting in the spring,” Tanner continued. “Just about had a riot on my hands from the single men hereabouts. Must have been right before you started as sheriff.”

Craig had started in July. As far as he knew, he and Miss Starling were the newest additions to the town. He didn’t know much more than that about her. “Guess it makes sense moneywise. The town can pay a lot less for a woman teacher than a man.”

He snorted softly. “That had nothing to do with it. People here wanted the diversion.”

“By people you mean men.” He could understand the miners’ attitudes. While working all day in the mines it would be enjoyable for most men to hope for the chance of crossing paths with a pretty woman in town. And it would be near heaven to have a chance at courting a soft and willing woman. He frowned. Miss Starling didn’t quite fit that image.

Tanner sighed. “At least she agreed to finish out a complete year. I’ve heard she has discouraged the few cowpokes that have tried to pound a path to her door. She’s keeping her end of the bargain.”

So she’d had a few callers? Already? “Well, don’t include me in your stampede. The one time I interrupted her class she got real prickly. Left me to understand that she didn’t appreciate my interference.”

“You don’t say?” Tanner seemed to take hope at that. “Maybe she’ll stick around two years—at least until my oldest finishes with her schooling.”

“So how did you find her?”

“Well, I’ll tell you. I didn’t want anybody real young. I was hoping for a widow or an old maid. Someone with experience. By August, when nobody like that had answered the advertisement I placed in the San Diego newspaper, I was starting to sweat. Here the new school was almost finished and there was no one to teach in it—at least no one with the right qualifications. I happened to mention it to the traveling preacher one Sunday. He passed along the word down in La Playa. It wasn’t but a short time after that, Miss Starling wrote and agreed to an interview.”

“So...in the nick of time.”

“Yep. Last-minute. And when she came she had all her things with her, just like she expected to get the position and stay on. But you know? That gal has more education behind her than any woman I’ve ever met. My children are learning things—things I never knew which isn’t saying a whole lot. We are lucky to have her.”

There. Another inconsistency with Miss Starling. Craig blew out a breath. If what Tanner said was true, why would Miss Starling come here? Why not some private, rich school in the city where she could draw a better salary?

He’d leave Patrick to his fantasy. Miss Starling was too pretty to stay single long, but it wouldn’t be because of him that she left teaching. She was too full of starch for him. Besides, he wasn’t planning to go down that road again anytime soon.

Even as he said it, the memory of her playing ball with the children in the schoolyard came to him. A woman who was stiff and starchy wouldn’t do that. Was it just around him...or maybe men in general...that she put up a barrier?

Just then the woman of their conversation emerged from the building and headed their way. As Miss Starling neared, Craig breathed in the scent of jasmine that circled around her. That clean-smelling soap she used was headier than any perfume worn by the saloon women he’d met in passing. Miss Starling should have more sense. He stopped midbreath when he noticed Tanner watching him.

Tanner shook his head once, then bent down and locked the door to the town hall. “Good night, Sheriff. Miss Starling.”

“Good night,” Gemma said with a pert nod, at the same time tying her hat ribbons under her chin, while crunched over to hold on to the loose papers tucked under her arm. Not surprisingly they didn’t fly off into the night the way they would with most people. Starch and burrs. When she was all together and her notes folded and contained within her satchel, she turned her face up expectantly. “Now. You wanted to speak with me?”

He indicated with is hand that they could start walking and then started down the boardwalk toward the boardinghouse. The town was buttoned up for the evening. As the other members of the school board disappeared into their respective homes or rode out of town, their figures absorbing into the dark shadows, the road became deserted. Even the two saloons were quiet, although lamplight from each of them could be seen trickling through the windows at each end of the road. The miners, by this time of evening, had finished their beers and were probably too tired to stand up. If they were smart, they had headed home themselves.

With one gloved hand, Miss Starling gathered the edges of her coat closer about her neck. “It smells of snow in the air.”

He glanced upward. A blanket of clouds moved slowly in from the west, snuffing out the stars all the way to the horizon. The moon in the eastern sky still shone bright—to the point that its light cast shadows on the dirt road. Her comment at once distracted him from his agenda and what he wanted to discuss. Strolling and observing the night sky was...well, it was romantic...and at the moment not a word he would use with Miss Starling. He glanced back at her upturned face which was cast in a silvery blue as she caught the moonlight. Just what was she up to?

He was curious about the fight, but he figured it was none of his business unless one of the kids really got hurt. Kids scuffled. That’s all there was to it. And it sounded like she had handled it. ’Course, he wondered how she had handled it. Billy was her height and Duncan five inches taller. How had she stopped them?

“I’m new to the community by most counts, miss, but I gather that you’ve been here even less time than I have. At school you were talking about going out to the Odoms’ place.”

“Yes. On Saturday.”

“Have you got someone going with you? Someone who knows the way?”

She looked perplexed at his question. “Well... No. But I’m sure there is a road...or a trail. Tara and Billy—”

“Are country born and bred.”

She stepped down from the boardwalk and started across the first crossroad. “Why would that matter?”

He studied her pert nose which she had notched up stubbornly in the air. “You don’t strike me as someone who grew up in the country. For example, can you tell me which way we are headed? North or west?”

She was quiet.

“This isn’t like a city where there are names for roads and easy-to-remember storefronts. It’s easy to get lost in these hills. One boulder starts to look like another. One tree the same thing. I can’t have you walking...or riding...all over the mountain. You’ll be lost within half an hour.”

“You can’t have me walking...” she echoed, a trace of sarcasm in her voice.

Guess she didn’t care much for his interference. It couldn’t be helped. He wasn’t about to let her wander the mountains on her own. He walked another half a block with her in silence, hoping she was absorbing the truth of the matter.

Her steps finally slowed and then came to a stop. “What do you propose?” she asked, facing him.

“To go with you.”

“I don’t think...” She shook her head doubtfully. “That’s really not necessary.”

“Not. Necessary. Hmm. Then tell me which way you are facing now.”

She sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. “I can’t.”

“Well, until you can, you need an escort. I’m offering.”

She frowned. “Sheriff...I doubt the etiquette of the situation allows for you to accompany me.”

So that’s what was bothering her. “It doesn’t allow for a woman to go alone either. Sometimes out here you have to be practical.”

“Well...perhaps Mrs. Birdwell or Eileen Gilliam at the dry goods store could accompany me. I’ll ask one of them. You needn’t trouble yourself further.”

“Fair enough.” He had plenty of other things to do.

She started walking toward Mrs. Birdwell’s again “Do all the other women here know their directions?”

“If they were raised in the country they do.”

“Day or night?”

“While the sun is up for the most part. There are a few who know the stars too.” He couldn’t imagine growing up without that knowledge. His father had impressed it on him by the time he was ten. “Just where are you from anyway?”

“Obviously not here,” she grumbled.

“So...?” he prompted.

She eyed him with a speculative look. The light through the saloon window danced in her eyes. “Guess.”

He hadn’t expected that. He raised his brows. A challenge. “Big city. North, I think.”

She smiled slightly.

“Your clothes are fancier than most. Your shoes wouldn’t last more’n a day on a hike.”

“My shoes?” She stopped and looked down at her feet. “When did you check my...? Humph.”

“San Francisco? No...” he answered himself. Not with the way she said certain words. “Back East somewhere.”

“I have a feeling not knowing the answer will trouble you immensely,” she said smugly.

“It may take me a while, but I don’t back down from a challenge.”

She stared at him a moment and then dropped her gaze. “There are a lot of people here from the South. I noticed that some harbor ill will toward northerners.”

He had witnessed a few slights, and then realized she might have been a target. He sliced his gaze toward her. “Toward you?”

She shook her head. “No. But I am surprised. Especially so far away from where the fighting occurred.”

Was she really so young not to understand? “They lost everything. The War Between the States might as well have been yesterday for those that had to leave their homes and start completely over. You might want to give that some thought before you teach about it.”

They turned down the side road that led out of town. Widow Birdwell’s boardinghouse was the last house on the road. The light from her parlor blinked dimly through the rustling pines.

“It’s a good thing Molly doesn’t feel like that or I might be out of a place to stay. Thank you for the reminder to be sensitive in its instruction.” Her tone became more thoughtful. “Surely Mr. Tanner wouldn’t have hired me if he thought there would be a problem.”

“He was just relieved to have a teacher of your caliber for his kids.”

She stopped walking. “He said that?”

Craig nodded.

“Well, I suppose that is reassuring,” she murmured, looking at him with a puzzled expression. “I arrived on the tail of another teacher leaving. I thought...perhaps...” She blew out a breath. “The Tanner children have had a total of four teachers in seven years with three of them marrying. I assured Mr. Tanner that that wouldn’t happen in my case.”

“I thought all young ladies wanted to marry.”

“Not. Me.” She started toward the boardinghouse again.

He caught up to her in three strides.

“May I ask you something, Sheriff? You’re a man... I mean that you understand boys a tad better than I would. Why would two boys old enough to know better get into a fight? They should be setting an example for the younger children—not fighting.”

“I take it you don’t have brothers.”

“No. And I’ll admit that I was so intent on stopping the fisticuffs before more bloodshed occurred that I didn’t think to get the real reason for the fight out of them.”

He slanted a glance at her. “The best time to wrangle an answer out of them is while they are still fighting mad. Things tend to spill out from the gut.”

She sighed. “Then I’ve lost my chance.”

“So you haven’t come across much fighting in your other teaching jobs.” Tanner had said this was her first teaching job, but he wanted to hear it from her.

“This was a first.” She looked up at him. “This is my first teaching position.”

He tucked that bit of information away. “Sounds like you did okay. You stopped the fight. No one died.”

She stepped up on Mrs. Birdwell’s stoop. “An interesting way to put it.”

He reached for the door handle. “Just out of curiosity... How did you make those boys stop fighting? Hard to believe they’d stop just because you told them to.”

Her lips twitched and then those dimples appeared again as her smile grew. “I threw a bucket of cold, dirty water over them.” She stepped inside. The parlor lantern lent a yellow glow to the right side of her face. “Good night, Sheriff.”

He tipped his hat even though she was already closing the door in his face. “Night, Miss Starling.”

The woman might have no idea about staying safe on the mountain but that smile of hers could sure pack a wallop.

* * *

On Friday at noon, the sudden realization that the schoolroom was quiet made Gemma turn away from the window. She’d been staring at the road, wondering when Sheriff Parker would come riding down the lane. Twice now in the past three days, he had appeared at the beginning of the noontime break. He had stopped his mount just this side of the stand of pines and leaned on his saddle horn to watch what was happening at the school, remaining there a good three or four minutes, as he observed the children—some who lived nearby heading home for their meal and others sitting on the front steps with their lunch tins and baskets.

The first day he’d come upon her, she’d been outside after finishing her own lunch and well into a game of kick the can with the children. When she spied him, she had reluctantly stopped. She wasn’t sure if playing games was a “teacher-like” thing to do. Having grown up with tutors, she really had no idea if it was acceptable. When he showed up again, she made sure to stay inside even though the children had asked her to join them.