The Holiday Secret. Kathryn Springer

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      Ellery could see that Carter wanted to refuse. He slid a look at Bea and that tender look—the one that told Ellery a soft heart beat behind the shield—stole into his eyes again.

      “Fine. I’ll park by the bank,” he told Stanley. “You can pick me up over there.”

      The driver grinned, snapped the reins, and the sleigh glided down the street again.

      Carter arrived first and Ellery felt that now-familiar uptick in her pulse at the sight of him. Like the bluffs that lined the shores of Lake Superior, there was a rugged beauty in the clash of angles and planes that made up the deputy’s austere features. An appealing contrast between slate-gray eyes and sun-bronzed skin.