Orchard Hill Volume Three

by Kara Lynn Russell

  Dread suddenly quivered in Harmony’s stomach. She hadn’t considered how Joseph would feel about her hijacking his family for the afternoon. What if the children had chores they’d neglected?

  Peter jumped up and answered the door. “Hi, Dad.” He grinned and held up a chocolate chip polka dotted squirrel. “Look what I made.”

  Joseph raised his eyebrows in surprise. “What are you all doing over here?”

  “We’re baking cookies,” Peter told him enthusiastically.

  “You kids aren’t bothering Ms. Solberg, are you?”

  “Harmony invited us,” insisted Abby.

  It was time to speak up. “I did invite them,” she agreed. “We’ve had a fun afternoon.”

  “Here’s a question,” asked Joseph. “Who’s got room left for supper?”

  Blank stares met his stern gaze. “Is it that late already?” asked Noah.

  “It is. And while you’ve made some delicious cookies, I’m sure, no one has made supper yet.”

  Harmony gulped. This was her fault. How could she fix it?

  “We’re almost through here,” she told Joseph. “Why don’t you let the kids and I clean up, and I’ll make supper.”

  “Surely you don’t have enough food on hand to feed this mob.”

  “Actually, I do.” Harmony went to her extra large refrigerator and peered inside. “How about tacos?” Tacos weren’t exactly light, but if the kids weren’t that hungry they could just eat one and still get their veggies and protein.

  Joseph peered over her shoulder into the well-stocked refrigerator. “That’s an awful lot of food for one person,” he said. “Are you planning a party?”

  “No.” She stepped back to close the door and bumped into Joseph. A tingle traveled up her spine and she quickly moved away. “I’m writing a cookbook. I need to practice recipes before I include them.”

  “Are you going to include the cookie recipe we did today?” asked Peter. “Dad, you should have been here. Harmony just made it up, out of her head.”

  “Did she really?” asked Joseph.

  Flustered by Joseph’s attention, Harmony turned back to the table and began giving directions. “Those are the last of the cookies. Abby, take the dirty dishes to the sink. Noah, start putting the cookies into these tins. Put a sheet of wax paper between each layer.”

  She took one look at the triplets and decided what their job would be. “Girls, go wash up. How did you get so much frosting on you? You must be sticky from head to toe.”

  “What can I do?” asked Peter.

  “If you want,” offered Harmony “You can help me brown the hamburger and chop vegetables.”

  Peter agreed with such enthusiasm that Joseph took a second look, just to be sure that this was his son. He’d never made anything more complicated than toast.

  He should really be angry, he thought. He’d come home to an empty house, no note, no supper. It was a good thing he’d thought to check here, though he didn’t even know why it occurred to him. He hadn’t expected the kids to be here.

  But on the other hand, he was tired. He didn’t want to drag them all home and start making supper. Letting someone else take care of it was too appealing. With a sigh, he sank down onto one of the kitchen chairs and watched Harmony as she directed his children.

  As usual, she looked elegant and composed in a simply tailored blouse and capris. Her straight brown hair was pulled back into a sleek pony tail. She looked like she’d spent the day lounging about, except for one thing. There was a smear of chocolate along her jaw.

  For a moment, Joseph thought about what it would be like to kiss her there. When he realized the direction his thoughts were taking, he put a firm reign on them. He must be more tired than he thought to have his mind wander that way.

  Supper was put together in no time, and everyone helped carry the meal into Harmony’s dining room. Joseph didn’t like this room as well as the kitchen. The kitchen was warm and friendly, but the dining room was cold and formal. There was a highly polished sideboard adorned with silver candlesticks and a few other silver pieces. A china cabinet displayed an assortment of cups and saucers, mismatched but clearly very old and fragile.

  The room changed the mood of their little group. The chatter and laughter from before was gone and the kids sat silently, contemplating their tacos.

  The food was still uncommonly good. Joseph noticed that Harmony had used her own blend of seasoning on the meat, rather than a pre-mixed packet, and the toppings were fresh and plentiful.

  As the silence lengthened, Joseph urged his tired mind to come up with something to say. “It was nice of you to let the kids make cookies with you, Harmony.”

  Her face lit up, and Joseph couldn’t deny how beautiful she looked. It had been a long time since he’d noticed how beautiful any woman looked.

  “I’m really glad the kids came over. They helped me a lot.”

  She must have read the doubt in his face. “No really,” she insisted. “To be honest, I’d gotten a little stuck with my cookbook lately. The baking session today gave me some fresh ideas.”

  “Is that why you quit doing the ‘At Home with Harmony’ show?” asked Noah suddenly.

  Joseph watched as the enthusiasm drained from her face and shadows crept into her eyes. “Not exactly, but I did need a change. The cookbook offer just came along at the right time.”

  Unwillingly, he recalled the email message from the other night. “It was cruel of you to leave me this way.” Who had Harmony left behind and why? Joseph didn’t want to wonder about this, didn’t want to be curious. It shouldn’t matter to him anyway.

  Harmony said, with a hint of her former excitement. “Anyway, I really appreciate all that you kids did today. Would you mind helping me out again sometime? Just having taste testers is a great help.”

  Having dinner made by Harmony every day did have its appeal, thought Joseph.

  “In fact,” Harmony continued “I saw Pansy in the grocery store today, and she suggested I volunteer to help with the refreshments for the harvest celebration party at church.” She hadn’t planned to volunteer for that, but her enthusiasm over the day’s success swept her along. She’d asked to help before she’d realized what she’d done.

  The kids thought this was a great idea and heartily endorsed it. Joseph couldn’t do anything else but accept her offer on behalf of the committee, but he wasn’t sure he liked it. How much time did he want to spend with Harmony anyway? She seemed to be a good neighbor, was a great and generous cook, and even the kids liked her….

  But he didn’t feel entirely comfortable around her himself. Harmony was in some way different from every other woman he knew. She affected him as no other woman did.

  When supper was over, everyone helped clean up and Harmony sent the kids home with several tins of cookies. “I certainly can’t eat them all,” she insisted, pushing the containers into their hands.

  The kids went happily on their way, ready to start an evening of homework. Joseph lingered to say his thanks, as was proper.

  “I have more reason to thank you, than you have to thank me,” Harmony told him. Her eyes lit up once again. “I had a fun afternoon. Maybe I can even include some kid-friendly recipes in my book. I’d have to talk to the editor about adjusting the outline we decided on, but…”

  Her words flowed over him, but his eyes were drawn to that smudge of chocolate that still graced her jaw line.

  Her words slowed and faltered. “What is it?”

  “You have some chocolate…” he gestured vaguely.

  “Where?” Harmony rubbed at her cheek, missing the smudge entirely.

  “Wait, let me.” Before he could stop himself, he reached up and wiped the smear away with his thumb. Allowing his hand to linger, he felt her warmth seeping into his palm, her pulse jumping under his fingers.

  Harmony went still. In her eyes, he saw his own attraction mirrored, along with the confusion he also felt. After a moment though, wariness crept in, maskin
g everything else. She stepped back, and his hand fell away. “Th-thank you, Joseph. You must be tired. I apologize for keeping you here with my chatter. I’m sure you’re not interested in what my editor has to say about anything.”

  “No,” he murmured. Then realizing what he’d said, he hastily added, “No, you’re not keeping me. The cookbook stuff is…is….interesting,” he finished lamely. Actually it probably would be, if he’d been listening to her instead of fantasizing about kissing her. “But I should get going, make sure everyone’s doing their homework.”

  “Yes. Yes, you should.” Harmony slipped back into her house. “Good night.” She closed the door, leaving him standing on her porch, unsure of what to do. He wished he’d said something else. Done something else.

  With a sigh, he turned toward his own house. At least he hadn’t been stupid enough to kiss her.

  TITLE

  Orchard Hill: volume three

  Chapter 4

  Harmony sat in her kitchen, savoring the memories of the afternoon. She hadn’t spent much time with children or teens, but she certainly enjoyed baking cookies with the Velasquezes. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so creative, so…so free.

  She booted up her laptop and started recording the recipe she’d come up with to satisfy all three little girls. What would she call it? She decided on “triple threat cookies.” That sounded good. She began listing the ingredients they’d used. When she got to the chocolate, she hesitated, her fingers frozen over the keys. Her face and neck tingled as she thought of how Joseph had wiped away the smudge of chocolate. Was she imagining the attraction between them?

  The phone rang, startling her out of her thoughts. What if it was Joseph? Her heart began to pound. What if he had felt the pull between them, too, and he was calling to ask her out? Would that be a good or a bad thing?

  Harmony rose and walked to the phone on shaking legs. What would she say if it was Joseph? With relief, she recognized her parents’ number on the caller ID. She laughed, thinking that her imagination had run away with her.

  “Hello.”

  “Oh, so you are home.” Even thousands of miles away, her mother could make her disapproval felt.

  “Yes, I am. Why?”

  “It’s Tuesday. You usually call on Tuesdays.”

  Her father’s raspy voice added, “We were worried about you, Pumpkin.”

  “So why didn’t you call tonight?” her mother asked.

  Harmony knew there was no point in trying to dodge the question. Her mother was as tenacious as a bulldog when she wanted something.

  “I bet she was out on a date.”

  “Is that right, Harmony? Were you out on a date?”

  If she said yes, would her mother start writing out the wedding invitations? Instead of opening that can of worms, Harmony said, “It wasn’t exactly a date. I was with some friends.”

  She heard her mother’s sigh of disappointment, even over her father’s statement. “You’re making friends. You must be settling in there in Apple Valley.”

  She gritted her teeth. “I live in Orchard Hill, Dad.”

  “Yes, of course. I knew it had something to do with apples.”

  “I don’t know why you moved there in the first place.” Her mother sounded just a bit snarky. She must really be annoyed at the missed phone call. “You were doing so well with that television show. I heard the Food Channel was looking at picking it up.”

  “No offense Mom, but you aren’t exactly an insider on the television world.”

  “Of course I’m not. But Mindy Deveraux is. You remember her, don’t you? Her husband is a producer. She told me.”

  “Television just wasn’t for me. I’m much happier writing my cookbook.”

  “That’s great, Pumpkin. How’s that going?”

  While Harmony appreciated her father’s support in opposition to her mother’s constant disapproval, she wished he weren’t quite so lavish with his encouragement and compliments. If she told him she was planning to walk over hot coals he would have responded with, “If anyone can do it, you can, Pumpkin.” It would have felt better if his praise was reserved for her true accomplishments.

  “How do you think that’s going, George?” her mother broke in. “She’s got herself locked up in that ancient house all by herself. How will she ever meet someone like that? In a town like that?”

  “She said she was out with friends tonight, didn’t she? You worry too much, Louise.”

  Her mother’s attention switched back to her. “Who are these friends?”

  “I invited some neighbors over. No one you’d know, Mother.”

  “Undoubtedly. Why don’t you move back home? You know we have a magnificent kitchen here that you could work in.”

  “Sorry,” Harmony replied. “Your cook would never stand for competition in his own kitchen.”

  “Yes, he would. He must, if he expects to keep his job,” Louise protested. “Don’t you think so, George?”

  “Of course, dear.”

  Harmony’s patience was beginning to wear thin. “Look, I’m happy right where I am. The cookbook is going just fine. Mom, I promise I get out. I make trips to the grocery store every couple of days.”

  As expected, her mother gave a mournful sigh at that. “The grocery store? Darling, if you came home, that would not be the highlight of your social calendar, I promise.”

  “Yes,” her father added. “We’re always busy. Your mother rarely gives me a night off from dinner parties and the theater and…”

  Thinking of the church’s harvest celebration party, Harmony cut in. “Oh, I have a big party coming up. I’m even helping with the food.”

  “That’s great, Pumpkin.”

  “Helping with the food? Please tell me you aren’t becoming a caterer.”

  “Of course not. I thought it would be a great way to try out some new recipes.”

  “Well, what are you serving?”

  Better not to get into that. “I’m not sure yet. You know, it’s getting late. Did you have any news for me?”

  Within a minute or two, Harmony had wrangled her way out of the conversation and hung up the phone.

  The sun had set, and the house was dark. She stepped outside onto the porch, grateful to feel the cool air on her cheeks. Why did her parents always have to be so difficult? Why couldn’t her mom give her a break and her dad stop acting like a cheerleader, just for once?

  She’d been feeling so good before their phone call. Now, that weight of depression hovered again, trying to press down on her. Harmony took a deep breath and recited to herself, “Rejoice in hope, be patient in suffering, persevere in prayer.” The verse from Romans was her comfort and often helped her keep the weight from settling over her. She took a deep breath and felt the pressure recede a bit.

  ****

  Joseph, getting himself a drink of water, saw Harmony standing on her porch. He couldn’t make out her expression, but there was no mistaking the despondent slump of her shoulders. She’d seemed fine when he left. Had something happened, or had she been hiding her true feelings all along? Had he or one of the kids done something to upset her?

  After a few moments, she went back into her house, but he didn’t see any lights come on. What could be the matter?

  The question was still pressing on him the next day. He stopped at the school after dismissal to see Hope. She was shelving books in the library when he came in.

  “Hope, you got a minute?”

  She gave him a radiant smile. He had to admit, she’d been happy since she and Oliver had gotten engaged. “Sure. What can I do for you?”

  “I need a favor.”

  “When do you not need a favor, brother dear?” she teased.

  “You’re right. I’d be lost without you.”

  She slid the last book onto the shelf and turned around, crossing her arms. “All right. What is it?”

  Now that he was here, he didn’t know how to ask for what he wanted. “It’s sort of hard to e
xplain.”

  “I have a date in about 15 minutes, so you’d better spill it Joseph.”

  “A date? In the afternoon?”

  “Oliver and I are going to pre-marriage counseling with Pastor Isaac.”

  “So does Isaac think you two are compatible?” asked Joseph in a sour tone.

  “As I said, I have a date. Do you want to waste your time quibbling or do you want to tell me why you’re here?”

  “All right. I’m sorry.” He told her about the afternoon spent with Harmony, and then about seeing her later on the porch.