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Harmony’s other deputy, Ian Caldwell, strode outside. He was a tall man, solid, and knew how to take care of himself. Carson had seen him drag drunk cowboys out of the Gold Garter Saloon and toss them into jail with little effort.
Carson told him what he’d just explained to Chord, and Ian shook his head. A quiet moment passed, then he muttered, “Women.”
As one, they all turned to gaze down the street.
Marlee, Audrey and Becky stood outside Flora’s Bake Shop. Lucy Hubbard had joined them. Moments dragged by in silence, until finally Ian spoke.
“Why won’t a woman just do what you tell her to do?” he mumbled.
There was no hostility in his words, no anger, not even any confusion or wonderment, only a longing and a hurt that seemed to roll from him in waves.
Everyone in town had speculated that something had gone on between Ian and Lucy back in Marlow, Colorado. Nobody knew for sure, one way or the other, because neither of them spoke of it.
“I’ll talk to the sheriff when he gets back in town,” Chord said. “He could order the musical performances canceled—which would suit me just fine—but that’s what’s bringing everybody to town.”
Ian shook his head. “I don’t see the sheriff doing that.”
“He may not care so much about disappointing folks who want to hear Christmas music,” Chord said. “But he sure as hell doesn’t want to hurt the merchants who’ve spent so much money to get ready for this festival. I’ll let you know what the sheriff says when he gets back.”
“Appreciate it,” Carson said, and headed back down the boardwalk.
Marlee and the others were still outside Flora’s. Carson intended to give Marlee a piece of his mind, even though he understood that she was new in town and didn’t know everything that was going on. A great deal was at stake for Harmony with the weaving mill he was trying to get built, and he didn’t need any more surprises where the investors’ visit was concerned.
This would be a business discussion, he told himself. Just business. Nothing more. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to end up kissing Marlee again.
“Afternoon, ladies,” Carson said. He touched the brim of his hat and managed a smile as he joined them on the boardwalk.
“We were just going inside Flora’s for a bit to eat,” Audrey said. “Would you care to join us?”
“No, thank you,” he said, then turned to Marlee. “I wonder if I might have a word with you, Miss Carrington?”
Audrey and Becky threw her a concerned look, but Marlee said, “I’ll be inside in just a minute.”
Carson grasped Marlee’s elbow and steered her to the corner of the building, then stepped off the boardwalk into the alley, bringing her with him.
She smelled delightful.
The thought slammed through Carson, chasing away the good intentions he’d had of educating Miss Marlee Carrington about the error of her ways, as well as life in Harmony, Texas.
He refocused his thoughts on the task at hand, and reminded himself again that, no matter what, he would not kiss her.
Marlee stared up at him, her eye wide, her lips pursed. Though she was covered up with that large cloak, he knew how shapely she was beneath it. He imagined what it would feel like if he slipped his hand—
“You wanted to talk about something?” Marlee asked.
Carson gave himself a little shake. “Yes, I do. You and the other ladies should have discussed the notion of bringing trainloads of strangers to Harmony for the Christmas festival with the sheriff before you went and did it.”
“And why is that?” she asked.
“Because all manner of thieves will probably come, too,” Carson said.
She drew herself up a little and looked him straight in the eyes.
“If you’re concerned about being a victim of a crime,” she said, “I’d like to point out that you do, after all, have my Derringer to defend yourself with.”
Carson’s resolve crumbled.
He pulled Marlee into his arms and kissed her on the mouth.
Chapter Six
He’d kissed her—again.
And she’d let him—again.
Marlee moved the small stool farther along the row of tall shelves in the Harmony General Store and stepped up on it. Around her, shoppers were busy making their selections, talking with Aunt Viola behind the counter. Marlee had gladly pitched in and offered to dust the merchandise because she wanted to help out, of course, but mostly because it was a mindless task that allowed her the opportunity to think about what had happened two days ago.
Carson had kissed her. He’d said he wanted to talk with her when he’d approached her and her cousins outside Flora’s Bake Shop, but after they stepped into the alley he’d hardly said anything at all. He’d just kissed her.
Then he’d walked away. He’d left her standing there alone, her heart racing, too stunned to figure out what had just happened.
And to make matters worse, she hadn’t seen him since.
Was it right that a man would maneuver her into an alley, steal a kiss then disappear? What did it mean?
Marlee brushed the feather duster over the tin coffeepots on the shelf. Maybe it didn’t mean anything—to him anyway. She’d never felt this way about a man before. Of course, her job with Mrs. Montgomery allowed few opportunities to meet anyone. Before she’d taken the job she’d been enrolled at the Claremont School for Young Ladies where all facets of her life were strictly controlled. There was talk among the girls and information was shared, but opportunities to mix with the opposite sex were limited.
If only there was someone she could talk to.
The vision of her mother floated into Marlee’s mind. They had shared so little time, but that didn’t mean they weren’t close. She wished her mother was here so they could talk.
For a moment, Marlee considered broaching the subject with Aunt Viola. She was a wonderful aunt, and Marlee could see how Audrey and Becky adored their mother, yet Marlee couldn’t bring herself to share her feelings.
Besides, she didn’t know exactly what her feelings were for Carson. His presence in her life had caused her nothing but confusion and upset. Did that mean she should avoid him at all costs? Or should she confront him and demand to know—well, she hadn’t any sort of idea what she would say to him.
Aunt Viola’s voice broke into her runaway thoughts.
“You’ve been dusting those same pots for fifteen minutes now. I think they’re clean enough,” Aunt Viola said.
“Oh, I have?” Marlee felt color rise in her cheeks.
She gave her a warm smile. “Go out for a little walk. Stop by Flora’s and talk to Lucy Hubbard. I think a chat with her will do you both good.”
The scent of apple pie wafting from Flora’s Bake Shop drew Marlee through the front door and out of the cold. She found Lucy sitting on a chair behind the counter, gazing out the window into the alley.
Her cousins had told her that everyone in town suspected Lucy had a secret past. Marlee thought she saw those memories in Lucy’s face now as she stared outside at nothing.
Lucy blinked a few times, then spotted Marlee. She hopped out of the chair and walked to the counter. “What can I get for you?”
“I just came by for a visit,” Marlee said.
Lucy looked a bit surprised, as if she didn’t get too many folks in the shop just to visit. She smiled and said, “That’d be nice. How about some coffee?”
Marlee circled behind the counter while Lucy poured coffee from the pot on the cookstove. She pulled up another chair and they sat down.
“So,” Lucy said, “are you enjoying your stay in Harmony?”
“Everyone has been so welcoming,” Marlee said. “Most everyone.”
Lucy frowned. “Has someone been unkind to you?”
“Well, not, not exactly,” Marlee said, and felt color rise in her cheeks.
“Has someone been a little too welcoming?” Lucy asked softly. “Carson Tate, perhaps?”
Marlee gasped. She set her cup aside and plastered her palms against her cheeks. “How did you know?”
“I saw him kiss you in the alley,” she said, and nodded out the window.
Marlee’s face burned. She’d been seen? In the alley? Kissing Carson Tate? Had other townsfolk seem them? Was she the object of gossip?
“I only saw it because I was looking out the window,” Lucy said.
Marlee gazed into the alley. She noticed that the view also took in part of Main Street and, in the distance, the jailhouse.
Her embarrassment fled and sadness enveloped her heart.
“You’re in love with Ian Caldwell, aren’t you,” she said.
Lucy turned her head away. A moment or two passed before she faced Marlee again. “Yes,” she whispered. “And you’re in love with Carson Tate.”
Lucy’s words stunned her and she hardly knew what to say. She searched her feelings and knew something was in her heart for Carson. She’d felt it the moment she’d laid eyes on him at the train station. But was it love?
“Carson is always rushing around,” Lucy said, “taking care of one problem after another, with some kind of business deal in the works. He’s always in a hurry. But lately—since you got here—he’s come into the shop almost every day, and he always manages to work the conversation around to you. I can see he has feelings for you, and I know you feel something for him. Maybe you two are meant to be together?”
Marlee shook her head. Now she was more confused than ever.
“Yet you’re in love with Ian and you do nothing about it,” Marlee said.
Lucy drew back a little. “Things are different with Ian and me.”
“But he loves you,” Marlee said. “Everyone in town says so.”
A little grin pulled at Lucy’s lips, yet it faded quickly. She set her coffee cup aside and drew a breath, as if she were drawing on some inner strength.
“Ian and I knew each other in Colorado, in a little town called Marlow,” Lucy said. “I was married.”
Marlee tried not to let her surprise show. “What happened?”
“Raymond turned out to be something less than a good husband,” Lucy said. “I knew Ian cared for me, as I cared for him. He was a perfect gentleman, and I’d taken vows before God, so nothing came of our feelings for each other.”
Lucy seemed lost in thought for a while, then spoke again.
“Ian was helpful after my marriage ended,” she said. “I couldn’t stay in Marlow, not after everything that had happened. So I moved here.”
“And Ian followed you?” Marlee asked.
“He’s a determined man,” Lucy said. “You should stay in Harmony and see what happens between you and Carson. If it’s love, you can’t let it get away.”
“Yet you can’t do that with Ian?”
Lucy shook her head. “I’m afraid. Afraid things might turn out the way they did with Raymond. I can’t make that kind of mistake again.”
“Ian’s a good man,” Marlee said. “He loves you.”
“My first husband seemed like a good man, too. He said he loved me, and things turned out … well, they didn’t turn out the way I expected.”
The bell over the door jingled, taking Lucy’s attention. As she went to wait on the customer, Marlee gave her a wave and left the shop.
She’d hoped that talking with Lucy might clarify her feelings for Carson, but now she was more confused than ever. And she was sad, too, for Ian who seemed to love Lucy so much that he’d stood by her through her marriage, then followed her to Harmony. Sadness filled her for Lucy as well, who’d been so damaged by that marriage she was too fearful to take another chance on love.
Darkness had fallen bringing a deeper chill to the air as Marlee slipped into the store. A dozen women were gathered near Aunt Viola at the counter. Marlee spotted Mrs. Tuttle, Heddy Conroy, Harriet Goodman and Melva Walker among them. Every woman frowned. Chatter flew back and forth between them.
Becky broke away from the group of women and hurried down the aisle.
“Marlee, something terrible happened.” Her words came out in a rush.
All sorts of images filled Marlee’s mind. Had someone been injured? Taken ill? Been killed?
“It’s Malcolm Barrett, Chord’s pa,” Becky told her. She swiped at the tears that sprang to her eyes. “He’s hurt, hurt real bad.”
“What happened?” Marlee asked, frantic for more information.
Becky wrung her hands. “He’s still in Colorado. Remember he went there looking for places for the family to perform? Chord just got a telegram from the sheriff telling him his papa got run over by a runaway freight wagon. It said the whole family should come right away because their papa might not make it.”
“Where’s Audrey?” Marlee asked. “She must be so upset.”
“She’s at the train station,” Becky reported. “The whole Barrett family—every single one of them—is leaving on the next train. It should be pulling out any minute now. Oh, Marlee, this is terrible. Just terrible!”
Marlee slipped her arm around Becky’s shoulders and gave her a hug.
“We have to be strong, Becky, and send good thoughts and prayers.”
Becky drew in a ragged breath. “I’ll say an extra-big prayer.”
Marlee joined the ladies clustered in the back of the store.
“Chord will keep us informed by telegram,” Mrs. Tuttle reported.
