The Christmas Star
"That star sure would look pretty on your Christmas tree, Rachel."
Rachel Morgan turned from the store display to find deputy Matt Dennison standing right behind her. The man's nearness always made her heart flutter.
"I didn't put one up this year."
She shook her head.
"You goin' to the Christmas Eve service tonight?"
"I . . . don't know. " She turned to leave. "Merry Christmas, Matt."
"Same to you, Rachel."
Near suppertime, Rachel had a pot of soup simmering and was mixing up cornbread when a knock came on the door. She wiped her hands on her apron and hurried to see who was calling. Matt stood there, a fresh cut tree in one hand and the Christmas star she'd admired in the other.
He gave a shrug and grinned. "It's a start."
"Why, thank you, Matt. I—"
"Got any popcorn to string?"
"I can pop some."
"Whatever you're cookin' sure smells good ."
"Want to join me for supper? "
"Yes, ma'am—if you'll let me escort you to the Christmas Eve service. Will you?"
His smile shot straight to her heart. She nodded. "Yes, I will. "