Free A Light in the Window by Julie Lessman Page A

and gave Nate a wink. “Since it is a Christmas play and all.”
    He stared, mouth agape before it curved into a silly grin. “Yes, ma’am, and thank you, ma’am!” he gushed, cranking her hand so hard once again, she was sure she’d be sore come morning.
    “Why don’t you take Holly home now so you can tell your mother the good news, and no need to come back until the first rehearsal date, all right?”
    “Yes, ma’am!” he shouted, and took Marcy by surprise when he bowled her over with a hug that had her grinning ear to ear. She watched Nate wheel his sister away and sighed, returning to her seat next to Sister Francine.
    “I’ll tell you what, young lady,” Sister Francine said with a smile that displayed a rare show of tenderness, “it’s moments like this that weaken my resolve to be an old crab.”
    Marcy grinned. “It can be our secret if you like, Sister, although it may serve good purpose in keeping your students a wee bit off balance.”
    The old nun laughed, a deep, throaty chuckle that Marcy—or Sister’s students, she supposed—seldom heard. “I knew I liked you,” she said with a firm pat of Marcy’s arm, “a woman after my own heart.” Her lips tipped off-center. “Which may well be an insult.”
    “Not likely, Sister.” Marcy nodded to a group of boys against the wall who were apparently getting antsy and loud. “I’m going to need all the attributes you can spare, I’m afraid, and then some.” She glanced at her gold pendant watch pinned to her blouse and then the handful of audition numbers yet to call. “We best get a move on, I suppose, if we’re going to finish by nine.”
    Rising to her feet, she turned to call the next number, a smile tugging when she noticed Sam stretched out in a chair in the back, arms folded and eyes closed. She began to turn, and her gaze collided with Patrick’s, a connection so strong it was as if he willed it, the gray eyes holding her captive for several powerful thuds of her heart. The faintest of tremors quivered her stomach, and she spun around and dropped in her seat so fast she was dizzy, shock stealing the strength from her limbs. No! She would not respond to a man like Patrick O’Connor. Too attractive to be trusted, too used to getting his own way, especially with women. Thoughts of her cousin flashed in her mind, and Marcy’s eyes fluttered closed for the briefest of moments, anger resurging over the injustice of it all. How men like Patrick O’Connor pushed and prodded and promised the moon to a woman like Nora, putting a ring on her finger that became a noose around her neck. Marcy’s heart listed, breaking all over again. A cousin so dear, ruined forever. And all because of a handsome face.
    “Thank you, Mrs. Miller,” Sister Francine said and Marcy jolted up, ashamed she’d missed the woman’s audition.
    Slipping a peek at the nun beside her, Marcy offered a hesitant smile. “So, what did you think?”
    “A definite callback.” Sister scratched a quick notation on her sheet, then rifled through a basket to select the next number. “Mercy me, this has been a long night, but we’re almost done,” she said with a teasing roll of her eyes, “and then we can send the bad ones packing and be done with the lot of them.” She gave Marcy a wink. “Won’t that be nice?”
    The bad ones. Marcy blinked, Sam and Patrick coming to mind. Oh, to send them packing and be done with them both! Exhaling a weary breath, Marcy managed a half smile that veered just shy of droll. “Oh, goodness, me, Sister—you have no idea.”

Chapter Seven
     

      “So … what’s your name?”
    Hammer in hand, Patrick paused, one nail lodged in his teeth and another positioned against a kitchen cabinet façade while he, Sam, and a few other men built scenery. The smell of sawdust and popcorn filled the noisy auditorium along with thick, humid air from the sweltering summer night. One of the little girls from the play blinked up at him,