dreamed the whole thing—meeting Carson in the alley, the warmth he gave off, the kiss he’d given her. She’d never been kissed before, really kissed. It had all seemed like a fairy tale—until she looked in her handbag and saw that her pistol was gone.
Marlee picked up the cups Audrey had dried and took them to the cupboard.
She had to get her gun back. It belonged to Quincy, and he’d only loaned it to her for the trip. He’d expect it back when she returned in January. For a moment she considered reporting it to the sheriff, but then she’d have to explain why she was in the alley alone late at night, and eventually her account of the incident might lead to the kiss.
Oh, that kiss.
A wave of warmth rushed through Marlee at the memory. She grabbed a dry plate and rushed to the cupboard, sure her cheeks had flushed pink.
The nerve of that Carson Tate, she thought. He’d put her in a difficult position. Now she had to find him and demand her gun back. Only—
What if he kissed her again?
Memories of last night whipped through Marlee again, warming her cheeks anew. What if he tried to kiss her? Should she let him? She hadn’t exactly put up a struggle last night. Maybe that meant—
“Marlee? Marlee!” Becky shouted.
She spun and found her cousins by the back door putting on their cloaks and bonnets. They looked as if they’d both called her name several times.
“We can’t be late for the meeting,” Becky said.
Marlee didn’t dare ask questions, given that she suspected Becky had explained everything earlier when her thoughts had been occupied with Carson.
“We’ll stop by Flora’s place first,” Audrey said.
Marlee hung her apron on the peg, and grabbed her bonnet and cloak as she hurried out the door after them.
Flora’s Bake Shop smelled of cinnamon and vanilla and made Marlee’s mouth water as she walked through the door with her cousins. The display cases held cookies, cakes and pies.
“Everything’s ready,” called the young woman behind the counter. She was several years older than Marlee, with dark hair and wearing a blue dress and a crisp white apron. She placed a package wrapped in brown paper and tied with a string on the counter, then paused. “Oh, you must be Marlee. Welcome.”
“This is Lucy Hubbard,” Audrey said, taking the package and leaving coins on the counter. “She’s the best baker Flora has ever had in her shop.”
Lucy managed a tired smile. “I’m certainly the busiest.”
“Flora’s been in Papa’s store twice this week, stocking up on sugar,” Becky said. “She doesn’t want to run out, with the festival coming.”
“All the merchants in Harmony have their hopes pinned on Christmas this year,” Lucy agreed. “Hope it goes well this morning. Give my best of Mrs. Tuttle.”
Marlee and her cousins headed west through town. They’d gone no more than three steps when Becky reached for the package her sister held.
Audrey yanked it away. “These cookies are for the ladies. We can’t eat them. Mrs. Tuttle will smell it on your breath and you’ll never hear the end of it.”
“She’s the mayor’s wife,” Becky explained. “The festival was her idea.”
“Mayor Tuttle wasn’t excited about the idea,” Audrey said. “Nothing much excites the mayor.”
“Can you blame him? Being married to Mrs. Tuttle?” Becky blurted out.
Audrey and Marlee both gasped, then all of them broke into laughter.
Main Street was moderately busy this morning with shopkeepers sweeping the boardwalk and arranging crates and barrels of merchandise just outside their doors. Marlee was surprised to see that Harmony had so much commerce. She spotted a dress shop, a millinery store, two more mercantiles and several restaurants. The Bank of Harmony occupied a large space across the street, and beside it stood a building with Tate Enterprises written in gold letters on the front window.
Marlee’s breath caught. That must be Carson’s office. Was he inside now? Working? Or, perhaps, thinking of their kiss?
She felt her cheeks flush at the memory, then forced it aside. She should be thinking of how she’d get Quincy’s pistol back. At least now she knew where to go to demand its return.
Becky took up a running commentary on the people who occupied the businesses on Main Street, filling Marlee in on the history of the townsfolk, and throwing in a little gossip as well.
“Dorrie Markham owns the dress shop. It was one of the first businesses to open in Harmony,” Becky said. “And Lucy Hubbard. She’s got a secret past.”
“You don’t know that for sure,” Audrey told her.
“She moved here from Colorado, telling nobody anything about herself,” Becky said. “Then, not a few weeks later here comes Ian Caldwell asking for a job as deputy sheriff. And he’s from Colorado, too. Now, is that really just a coincidence? I don’t think so.”
Marlee remembered that Audrey’s beau was also a deputy in Harmony. “What does Chord say about this?” she asked.
“Ian hasn’t given a single word of explanation,” she replied. “But it’s obvious that Ian and Lucy are in love.”
“Only they try to hide it,” Becky said. “At least, Lucy does.”
They passed the last of the businesses on Main Street and stepped off the boardwalk onto the road that led out of town. On the left, a white clapboard church, set under towering trees. On the other side were a number of large homes with front porches and fences, surrounded by trees and shrubbery.
“That’s Carson Tate’s house,” Becky said, pointing to a two-story home painted dark blue and white. “It’s the biggest one in town.”
“Which doesn’t suit Mrs. Tuttle in the least,” Audrey added, as they paused in front a nearby house. It was nice, but not as grand as Carson’s. Around them, other women smiled and nodded as they went through the open gate and up the walkway to the front porch.
“Usually, everyone here is just as nice as can be. Usually,” Audrey said in a low voice. “But today, well, there might be a bit of tension in the room, but—”
“What my sister is trying to say,” Becky said, “is that this is a meeting of the ladies who are organizing Harmony’s first ever Christmas festival, and things might get heated. The mayor and town council were against it, but the ladies pushed until they got the town’s approval, and now we’re stuck with it.”
“Stuck with it?” Marlee frowned. “But you said the festival was going to be wonderful.”
“It will be, if everything goes as planned,” Audrey said. “The entire town is going to be decorated, merchants have stocked up on Christmas gifts and decorations. Restaurants and the bake shop have bought more food. The Barrett family will perform
