according to height and voice.
She made a mental note to check with Pastor Michaels about the choir robes. The old burgundy robes would do fine, if the church could come up with the money to have them cleaned and pressed and to replace the worn, white stoles with new forest-green ones.
Satisfied that Ethan had the music under control, she headed for the stairs up to the balcony, where the teenagers and several of the men, led by Gage Parker, were setting up lighting. She glanced back to see Sammy trailing her, dragging Puppy.
Inadvertently, her gaze went to Reed. Sure enough, he was watching. A warm flush slid up the back her neck. Reed pushed off the wall as if to follow her, too. She held up an index finger to stop him. She would not be stalked by the townâs police officer, not even for her own goodâ especially for her own good.
Reedâs jaw tightened as he squinted her way. After a silent battle of wills, his chest rose and fell in a huff. He recrossed his arms and leaned back into his place on the wall, though his eyes remained fixed on hers.
Amy hovered on the stairs, holding Sammyâs hand while the sound of âIt Came Upon a Midnight Clearâ swelled around her, the familiar old hymn filling the church and her spirit. Lighted Christmas wreaths ringed the sanctuary walls. One was positioned directly above Reed and set his dark skin aglow. His brown-black hair was mussed from the wind and the ends glistened damply. Heâd unsnapped his dark blue service jacket and it hung open to reveal the lean officerâs shirt, complete with patches and badge and unidentifiable service pins. Reed Truscott was a handsome man in a rugged kind of way.
Amyâs stomach fluttered. She tried to blame the reaction on the bulge of what could only be a gun at Reedâs side. A weapon in church didnât seem right.
One thing for sure, she neednât worry about the thieves if he was around. Reed would take care of her and the rest of Treasure Creek. It was, as he constantly reminded her, his duty.
âAmy?â
Relieved at the distraction, Amy turned toward the female voice coming from above.
A troubled face, surrounded by bouncy red ringlets, looked down at her from the top of the stairs.
âDelilah! I didnât know you were here. Why arenât you rehearsing with the choir?â
In Ugg boots, snug jeans and a sheepskin vest, Delilah was fashion personified, though not nearly as high fashion as sheâd once been. She and the other women whoâd come to Treasure Creek were quickly learning that high fashion and Alaskan winters didnât jive all that well.
The petite young woman shrugged. âI donât really feel like singing tonight.â
Though she usually put on a happy face, Delilah was a new Christian, and she still struggled with feelings of self-worth. Though they were close in age and very similar in size and looks, Amy felt eons older than Delilah, and had taken it upon herself to mentor and encourage her new friend. She trotted up the stairs. âWant to talk about it?â
Delilah gazed around at the chaos of people discussing, stringing lights and speakers, and setting up props, all of them clamoring for Amyâs input. âDo you have time?â
Amy made a face. âWeâll make time. Come on. Letâs grab a cup of hot chocolate.â To the working masses, she called, âBe back in a bit. You guys know what to do.â
âSure, Amy,â someone hollered. âWeâve got you covered.â
The notion warmed her heart. This little town pulled together. They did have her covered.
She and Delilah maneuvered the stairs again, this time heading down. As they reached the side door and were exiting the sanctuary, Amy glanced back to see Nate talking to Reed. Good. He didnât notice her. It would be embarrassing to have the town police chief follow her around the church like a bodyguard.
Concerned about what could be
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