A Lawman for Christmas. Marie Ferrarella

had emigrated from Ireland when he was a boy. “Is your mother from there?”

      “Why?” Kelsey asked guardedly.

      “No reason. I just thought I detected a slight accent.”

      Periodically her mother tried to lose her accent, but her father always protested, saying he really loved the slight Irish lilt in her voice.

      “The same could be said about you,” Kelsey pointed out. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

      “No,” he deadpanned, “I live in Tustin,” he said, mentioning the name of the city next to Bedford.

      She frowned. He was deliberately being obtuse. “That’s not what I meant.”

      Morgan dropped the act. “I know what you meant, Ms. Marlowe. I’m from Georgia originally. Now do I get to ask a question?”

      “As long as you understand that I don’t have to answer if I don’t want to.” Her eyes met his. The ground rules were accepted. “Go ahead.”

      “Is this chip on your shoulder something recent,” he asked amicably, “or is it some congenital thing?”

      She opened her mouth to retort that it was none of his business what she had on her shoulder, but then she closed it again. She could almost hear her mother reprimanding her. And she’d be right. She was taking out her tension—and Dan’s behavior—on Donnelly. Because he’d come to her mother’s aid, he didn’t deserve this.

      “I’m sorry if I’m coming across a little testy—”

      He laughed shortly. “Little being a relative term here,” he interjected.

      “Okay,” Kelsey backtracked, “a lot testy,” she admitted. “But nothing like this has ever happened to me before.”

      He glanced at her thoughtfully. “Correct me if I’m wrong, Ms. Marlowe, but ‘this’ didn’t happen to you. It happened to your mother. She’s the one you should be thinking about, not yourself.”

      “I am thinking about her. About how awful it would have been if she’d been hurt.” She drew herself up, taking offense. “And just where do you get off lecturing me, Donnelly?”

      “Not lecturing,” he countered mildly, “just pointing the obvious out. Your mother’s okay. A bit shaken up, but okay. That makes her one of the lucky ones.”

      Something in his voice caught her attention. Donnelly wasn’t just spouting rhetoric, he was speaking from firsthand experience. Undoubtedly, as a policeman he’d seen things the average person hadn’t, and they’d left a lasting impression. He was right. She had to take a page out of her mother’s book and just focus on the positive.

      Kelsey took a deep breath. She stared down at her hands. They were folded and clenched in her lap. She willed herself to relax as she tried to banish the tension gripping her.

      “Yes, it does,” she acknowledged. Kelsey knew she owed this policeman a debt for being so nice to her mother. A debt she didn’t take lightly. “Listen, I’m sorry. I didn’t even thank you for taking my mother to the hospital. You could have just called for an ambulance and gone on your way.”

      “No, I couldn’t,” he answered too quickly. When he caught the confused expression on her face, he tried to shrug away his near slip. “It’s all part of that protect and serve thing I was telling you about. It’s the job,” he emphasized. Gratitude always made him feel awkward. He didn’t know how to accept it or give it.

      “Protect and serve,” she repeated. “And which was this?”

      A smile crept over his lips. A smile, she thought, that made him look more approachable. Not to mention sexy. She banished the last part from her mind. Policemen weren’t sexy. If anything, they were trouble.

      “A little of both,” he answered.

      With that, he turned the squad car onto University Drive. That was when she got her first glimpse of her mother’s vehicle. From the rear, the car looked to be all right. But then they drew closer. And Kelsey saw the front of the vehicle. It definitely wasn’t what she expected to find.

      “Oh God,” she cried without fully realizing it as Morgan got closer to the car.

      It was not a pretty sight.