All a Cowboy Wants for Christmas. Judith Stacy

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      “Piccolo and Calliope are twins,” Becky added. “The family has performed everywhere. Malcolm is in Colorado lining up more performances for them.”

      “Chord doesn’t travel with the family as much as he used to now that he’s a deputy sheriff,” Audrey said.

      “And because he likes to be in Harmony near you,” Becky pointed out.

      A little grin crept over Audrey’s face, but she ignored her sister’s words.

      “You get settled, Marlee, and rest up a bit from your trip,” she said. “We’ll all have supper after the store closes.”

      She and Becky eased out of the room and closed the door.

      Marlee unpinned her hat and took off her shoes. She needed to unpack, but the bed looked awfully inviting. She lay down and fell asleep.

      Marlee came awake with a start in a pitch-black room. A minute passed before she remembered where she was. She didn’t know how long she’d slept but her growling stomach told her it must have been a while.

      She rose and eased open her bedroom door. Wall sconces were lit in the kitchen, but she saw no one and hoped she hadn’t slept through supper. The sound of voices drew her across the kitchen, and she realized the store was still open for business. She parted the curtain at the doorway—then gasped.

      He was here. That handsome man she’d spotted at the train station. He was in the store standing at the counter, talking to her aunt and an older, slightly balding man who was probably her uncle Willard.

      Good gracious, he was even more handsome up close.

      Marlee’s head felt light as she stared. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. A strange heat rushed through her.

      Then he shifted and his gaze cut to her. Marlee froze in the doorway, a handful of curtain fabric twisted in each fist. For a few seconds—or was it hours?—their gazes locked. His expression darkened and his eyes dipped to her feet, then rose to her face again, as if he was seeing straight through her.

      Goodness, she looked terrible. Here she stood in her stocking feet, in a rumpled dress she’d actually slept in, with loose strands of hair curling around her face. She’d hardly been at her best today on the railroad platform when she’d thought he’d looked at her—and now, somehow, she’d managed to look even worse.

      Marlee jerked the curtains closed and dashed back to her room.

      “Did you see who came in the store today?” Uncle Willard asked.

      Marlee sat at the supper table with her aunt, uncle and cousins, and the meal of ham, sweet potatoes, green beans, fried apples and corn bread smothered in butter spread out before them.

      “Carson Tate,” Uncle Willard said, not waiting for anyone to answer his question.

      “He was at the train station today,” Audrey said. “You might have seen him, Marlee. Tall, dark-haired, wearing a black hat.”

      “And looking too handsome for his own good,” Becky added with a giggle.

      Marlee froze. So, Carson Tate was the man she’d managed to embarrass herself in front of not once but twice—and on the same day.

      “He’s the biggest businessman in town,” Audrey said. “He owns—well, he owns just about everything.”

      “He said he’s got some investors coming to town,” Uncle Willard said, “and he wants to show them how prosperous the merchants in Harmony are.”

      “If they’re here during the Christmas festival, they’ll easily see what a wonderful town Harmony is,” Audrey said.

      “I doubt they want to look at tinsel and evergreen boughs,” Uncle Willard said. “He didn’t say exactly what kind of investments they were looking to make.”

      “More like he wouldn’t stand still long enough to explain it,” Aunt Viola said. “That man is always in a hurry, always rushing from place to place.”

      When their meal was concluded, Marlee helped clean up. She’d pitched in to get supper on the table as well. Back in Philadelphia in Mrs. Montgomery’s mansion, there’d been cooks and assistants, serving girls and servants who’d handled everything. She’d not been needed—or wanted—in the kitchen.

      “I think Carson Tate is the most handsome man in town,” Becky declared in a little singsong voice as she washed the dishes.

      The cup Marlee was drying slipped, but she caught it before it hit the floor.

      “Everybody’s mama is hoping he’ll take a shine to her daughter, that’s for certain,” Audrey said.

      “He’s not courting anyone?” Marlee asked.

      “No,” Audrey said.

      Marlee let out the breath she realized she’d been holding.

      “I’m telling you the man is too busy for courting,” Aunt Viola said, as she carried plates to the cupboard. “He’s always running toward the next money-making deal as if the devil himself were nipping at his heels.”

      “Having money is good,” Becky pointed out.

      “But it’s not everything,” Audrey said.

      “Audrey Meade, you’re sweet on Chord Barrett,” Becky said. “Admit it.”

      Audrey blushed, then smiled broadly. “Yes, of course I am,” she said.

      “I knew it!” Becky declared.

      Becky and Audrey broke into laughter. Aunt Viola slipped her arm around Audrey’s waist and gave her a hug. Marlee watched this intimate moment between sisters, between mother and daughter, and her heart ached a little for her own mother, whom she hadn’t seen in months, and for the siblings she’d never had. How wonderful it must feel to be a part of a vibrant, loving family.

      They finished washing the dishes and put everything away while Uncle Willard helped himself to the last of the fried apples. He and Viola went upstairs.

      “Do you need anything?” Audrey asked, as she stood on the stairs.

      Marlee shook her head. “Nothing.”

      “Good night, then,” Audrey said, and followed her sister up the stairs.

      In her room, Marlee lit the lantern on her bureau. The soft glow of the flame spread its warmth. The gold Christmas star nestled in the evergreen boughs Audrey and Becky had placed on her bureau sparkled in the light. Memories of past Christmases floated in Marlee’s head.

      They were of Christmas mornings spent with near strangers, mostly. Marlee’s father—whoever he was—had left before Marlee was old enough to register a memory of him. Her mother had been forced to take a job as a servant and leave her daughter with relatives. All of them had been kind to Marlee, but none had been loving and accepting. She’d always been the outsider on those Christmas mornings, when gifts were handed out to squeals of СКАЧАТЬ