The Lawman's Christmas Wish Read Free Page A

for the chief of police, Christmas couldn’t come soon enough. Once the treasure chest was opened, maybe life would settle down and Amy would be safe again. Really safe.
    He started up the drive. “I better have a look inside.”
    â€œI’ll go with you.”
    â€œYou and the kids stay out here.”
    â€œNo way. If anyone was inside, they’re probably long gone, but they also might be lurking in the bushes. I’ll take my chances in the house with you.”
    Reed thought Amy might have just paid him a compliment. Though he’d rather she was somewhere safer, her logic made sense. An intruder could just as easily be outside as in. And Reed had the advantage of a loaded pistol.
    They fell in step. As they passed Amy’s vehicle, her two little boys tumbled out and followed.
    â€œChief Reed, someone broke our stuff.”
    Reed gazed down at the knee-high child. Dexter’s littlehead was tilted back, looking up with big gray eyes that trusted the police to do something. Police business Reed could handle, but kids were a puzzle. “Don’t be scared.”
    It was a lame thing to say, but Dexter seemed okay with it. Like his mother, the child bowed his head, shoved his hands in his coat pockets and traipsed across the yard, ready to face whatever was inside the house. Three-year-old Sammy, though, clung to his mother’s hand and stayed as close to her as possible. Reed couldn’t help feeling sorry for the little guy.
    They reached the back door and Reed thrust out an arm to stop them from entering. “Lock’s jimmied. Was the door open when you arrived?”
    Amy nodded. “Yes.”
    Incredulous, he stared down into eyes bluer than arctic waters. His gut did that weird clutching thing again. “And you went inside anyway?”
    â€œThis is Treasure Creek. I never used to lock my doors at all. You know how out of square this old house is. I thought maybe I’d forgotten to shut the door hard enough this morning before I went to the office.”
    A reasonable explanation, but he still didn’t like the idea that she’d gone inside. If something happened to her—well, he felt guilty enough about the way Ben died without letting him down again.
    â€œLet me go in first. You and the boys stay close until I check all the rooms.”
    Amy scooped Sammy onto her hip and held Dexter’s hand, doing as Reed asked without comment. The break-in had shaken her more than she wanted to admit.
    It had shaken him, too.
    Together they made the rounds downstairs. Amy remained tight-lipped, but her pallor told how upset she was. They bumped in a doorway and it was all he could do to keep from pulling her close for a moment, to tell her everythingwould be all right, to erase the lines of worry around her beautiful eyes.
    Reed slapped the impulse away. This was Ben’s wife. She was his responsibility, not his woman.
    â€œWhat a mess,” he grumbled, mostly to break his troubling train of thought, but furious, too, at whoever had done this.
    â€œUpstairs next. Me first.”
    Whoever had been here was gone now. His gut instinct told him as much, but he was taking no chances.
    As they started up, he reached out and took Sammy into his arms. The kid was barely three, but Amy wasn’t as big as a house cat.
    â€œI carry him all the time, Reed.”
    He just grunted and started climbing, his boots ringing hollow on the wooden steps. Lugging Sammy up the stairs was too much for her, whether she wanted to admit it or not. At the top, he returned the boy to his mother, needing to be alert and prepared in case of a nasty surprise.
    â€œMy room is here,” she said, pointing to a green-paneled door. “I dread looking in there.”
    Reed bit down on his back teeth. He dreaded looking in there, too, but for more reasons than the break-in. Something about entering the bedroom that Amy and Ben had shared made him uncomfortable.
    But he was a