“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.
“We’ll have a prayer vigil at the church tonight,” Heddy said.
“As soon as the family returns, we’ll take food over,” Melva said.
Several of the women chimed in with food items they would take to the Barrett home. Marlee wished she could cook well enough to volunteer to take something. With their plans made, the women left the store.
“I’ll go to the train station and check on Audrey,” Marlee said. “She must be so worried about Chord’s papa, plus upset that he’s leaving.”
“We’re all worried,” Aunt Viola agreed.
Something in her aunt’s voice caused Marlee to stop and turn back.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Of course, Malcolm’s health is our first concern,” Aunt Viola said. “But with him injured so severely, and with no way of knowing when—or if—he’ll recover, I don’t see how the Barrett family will return to Harmony anytime soon. And without the Barrett Family Singers, our Christmas festival will be a disaster.”
Chapter Seven
“Ladies?” Mrs. Tuttle clapped her hands together. “Your attention?”
The women gathered in the parlor of the mayor’s wife quieted. Marlee, squeezed between her cousins on the settee, felt the tension in the room.
“Is there anything new to report on his condition?” Mrs. Tuttle asked.
Audrey shook her head. “Still the same.”
Several days had passed since the entire Barrett family boarded a train for Colorado. Chord had sent telegrams but they all gave the same report. Malcolm was alive but clinging to life.
“As you all know, canceling the Barretts’ performances at our festival will have a devastating effect on its success,” Mrs. Tuttle said.
A grumble went through the room. Marlee had heard many of the same comments at the store between Aunt Viola and Uncle Willard. Everyone in Harmony was worried about their financial investment in the festival.
“This is awful,” Becky murmured. “Just awful.”
“Don’t get upset,” Marlee whispered. “Not