A Lawman's Christmas_ A McKettricks of Texas Novel - Linda Lael Miller [34]
The woman had a right to her pride, probably needed it just to press on from one day to the next.
By the time they got back inside the house, the girls had left the kitchen for the front room.
Their voices carried, a happy sound, like the chiming of bells somewhere off in the muffled distance.
Dara Rose moved to untie her bonnet laces, but Clay closed his hands over hers. “You’ve done a fine job raising those girls of yours,” he said, though he hadn’t actually planned the words ahead of time.
Those wonderful eyes of hers searched his face, almost warily. Then she smiled and went on to take off her bonnet, Clay’s hands falling away from hers and back to his sides.
“Thank you, Mr. McKettrick,” she said, stepping back to shed her snow-speckled cloak.
“Clay,” he said, knowing she wanted him to step aside so she could get on with whatever it was she planned to do next but stubbornly holding his ground. “I don’t generally answer to ‘Mr. McKettrick,’ as it happens. Usually, when folks use that moniker, they’re talking to my granddad.”
She blushed, but her eyes flashed. “When I say it,” she told him, “I’m addressing you. We haven’t known each other long enough to use first names.”
He chuckled at that. Curved his finger sideways under her chin and lifted. “Have it your way…Dara Rose,” he said, partly to get under her hide and partly because he just liked saying her name.
Still wearing his coat and hat, he summoned the dog with a soft whistle.
Edrina and Harriet immediately appeared in the inside doorway, squashed together as though there was barely enough room in the gap to contain both of them. Their eyes were wide with curiosity and something else—maybe worry.
“You’re going?” Edrina asked.
“And taking Chester?” Harriet added.
Clay touched the brim of his hat, momentarily ignoring Dara Rose, who was probably still prickly over his impertinent use of her Christian name. “Yep,” he said.
“Chester and I ought to be getting over to the jailhouse, in case somebody comes looking for us.”
“But it’s getting dark,” Edrina protested.
“And it’s still snowing really hard,” Harriet said. “What if you and Chester get lost?”
“We’ll find our way,” Clay promised, his voice a little huskier than normal. “Don’t you worry about us.”
Dara Rose surprised him by laying a hand on his arm.
“Take the lantern,” she said.
Clay was moved by the offer, but he didn’t let it show, of course. He just shook his head and smiled a little. “It wouldn’t do much good, hard as the wind’s blowing,” he said. “But I thank you kindly, just the same. And thanks for supper, too, and a right pleasant evening.”
Dara Rose opened her mouth, closed it again and then sighed. “Be careful,” she said.
“I will certainly do that, ma’am,” he answered.
The winter night bit into him like teeth when he moved out into it, Chester struggling along at his side.
Before they got as far as the gate, the dog was practically sinking out of sight with every cautious step, so Clay picked him up, carrying him in the curve of his right arm.
With his free hand, Clay pulled his hat brim down low over his eyes and blinked a couple of times, until he could see. If it weren’t for thin snatches of lamplight, spilling from various windows along the way, he and Chester might have been in some trouble.
As it was, Clay was half-frozen by the time he fumbled with the latch on his office door, stepped over the threshold and set the dog down to feel along the wall for the metal box that held the matches for the stove and the lanterns.
Chester gave a low growl as Clay struck the match.
There was a shuffling clatter over by the desk, followed by the sound of boot soles striking the plank floor and a grumbled curse.
“Damn it, Clay,” growled his cousin Sawyer, “you oughtn’t to sneak up on a man like that, especially when he’s sleeping.”
Chapter 6
“I thought it didn’t snow in Texas,” Sawyer said, after stretching and letting go with a lusty yawn. Clay patted the dog, reassured him with a few quiet words and lit one