by Amberlee Day
What did help was a funny thing—a woman seated off to one side wore a T-shirt with a cornucopia printed on it. It was a T-shirt that Kate recognized as a design sold during a previous Harvest Festival, years ago, and Kate hadn’t seen one for a long time. The timeliness of seeing it at just that moment, though, gave her purpose. She was here, doing this weird thing with the wig and the eyelashes and pretending to be someone she wasn’t—to help Freddie, yes, even if he wasn’t acting very appreciative at the moment, but also for the inn. The more time she spent at the Cornucopia and the more she tried fixing things there, the stronger she felt about holding on to this place that was her home.
She stepped up and took the mic. “Thank you for that kind introduction and the warm welcome, Harvest Ranch. So, what do you say we read a book?” Applause filled the room again. She cleared her voice and began ... but she had barely started reading when a woman from the audience yelled out, “Do the voices!”
A murmur of “do the voices” went through the room.
“The voices?” Kate had not a clue what they were talking about.
“You know, like you did on The Ellen Show. Do Molly’s voice, and Grandpa’s, and little Lolly.”
Everyone chuckled at that, and while little Lolly’s must have been a fun voice, Kate’s blood ran cold. She didn’t even know the story that well, much less how Brenda Lee did the characters’ voices. She looked at Freddie, but his face was still unreadable. Except for irritation—that was clear as crystal. No, she was on her own here.
“Okay.” She cleared her throat. How could she save this? She almost looked back at Freddie again, but she forced herself not to. “You’ll have to bear with me. My voice range may be a little unpredictable today. Traveling sometimes does that to me.”
She opened the book and began to read the narrative in her own natural voice, but she paused when she came to the first bit of dialogue. The main character, Molly O’Shea, how would she talk? Kate could do nothing but guess, and since she only knew three different “voices” that she occasionally pulled out at parties, she went with one of those.
In the best Scottish accent that she could manage, Kate read, “‘Grandpa, Lolly, have either of you seen Pumpkin? That goofy dog took off again, and I think she may have stolen Miss Nelson’s good lace doily again.’”
And she continued on without thinking how misfired or embarrassing her performance might be, owning her interpretation of the characters’ voices. She didn’t bat an eyelash before plowing ahead with Grandpa’s and little Lolly’s voices in the only other ones she knew how to do. Freddie would probably kill her, but since he was practically already shooting darts at her back with those cold looks, maybe it didn’t matter. Or at least right now, she couldn’t think about if it did.
***
Freddie stood in frozen horror as Kate read from Brenda Lee’s best-selling novel, for some bizarre reason giving the main character a Scottish accent. Could she make this any worse than it already was?
Apparently yes, as she proved when she started doing the voice for little Lolly, and it was clearly an impression of Piglet from Winnie-the-Pooh. “‘Molly, could you teach me how to make chocolate cake as good as you? I want to make it as a secret surprise for someone.’”
Stunned, he listened to each tortured word she produced, and he realized this was his fault. He should have thought of Brenda Lee’s reading voices and prepared Kate, or at least prepared an answer for why she couldn’t have done it. If he’d been doing his job better, this wouldn’t have happened.
Dialogue between Molly and little Lolly continued, and he was deciding how to step in and end this, when Kate started reading as Grandpa ... in a Darth Vader voice. Freddie couldn’t look away.
And yet, just listening to her, his heart changed. Happiness flowed through him like slow, hot lava, making him feel more alive than he had all day, maybe in his whole life. What was it about this woman that was so genuinely special? Growing up in New York City, in Manhattan, he’d thought he’d met every kind of person out there, but he’d never met anyone like Kate O’Halloran: weird, awkward, cute, although he wouldn’t call her the most beautiful woman he’d ever known. He would call her completely irresistible. But watching her standing in front of a crowd of people she worried would recognize her, wearing Brenda Lee’s ridiculous getup, and reading those lines with as much sweet authenticity as if they were her very own creation, Freddie knew that Kate was special. She was one of a kind, and being around her brought him more happiness than he could have imagined.
And that was a surprise that knocked the worry and frustrations right out of him.
So far, the audience had listened in silence, but now, just as he’d realized how delightful this woman and this moment were, someone started laughing, and laughing hard. He wanted to see who it was, but when Kate turned around and their eyes met, he realized it was him.
For a moment, it was just the two of them and that space that pulled them together. Her large dark eyes shone under the lashes and makeup, and there was a question in them ... Are you laughing at me? I know I did it wrong, but I’m doing my best. He had to fix this.
He wiped a tear from his eye, willed his laughter to settle down, and took her gently by both arms.
“What?” she whispered. He wanted to touch her nose, her cheek, just touch her, but she was supposed to be Brenda Lee, who was supposed to be married. And not to him.
“You are a genius,” he told her, before turning them both to face the audience. “You knew she was a talented author, but I bet you didn’t know she could be such a comedian.”
He couldn’t say this Harvest Ranch audience had much in the way of expression at the moment, except for dumbstruck, but when he put his hands together and gave Brenda Lee Mitford a round of applause, they joined right in. Soon the whole room was laughing, applauding, and whistling at Kate’s performance.
A look passed between them. There was that pull between them that he’d been too pigheaded to see all morning. He’d been so filled with anxiety and fear that he’d pushed it aside. “What do you say we move on to the book signing and picture taking?”
She laughed, relief softening her features and lighting them up at the same time. “I say hallelujah, and just don’t make me read any more.”
“I don’t know. Your fans look to me like they love you.” He couldn’t look away from her. Maybe the fans weren’t the only ones with feelings for this particular fascinating woman.
Chapter 11
Kate didn’t hate the change in Freddie. Sure, he’d laughed at her attempt to do the Love at Home voices, but it turned out he wasn’t laughing at her, and that made all the difference. Plus, he turned into not only a cheerful Freddie again, but a helpful one.
After the library book reading, Freddie jumped on board for a few hours helping her get the Cornucopia in better shape. She pulled out her Project Cornucopia notebook, and they picked a few tasks to conquer: fixing some broken bits of furniture, painting a particularly untidy porch swing, and installing a new rail in one of the disability-accessible cabins. They accomplished a lot and talked even more. She liked Freddie better and better the more she knew him.
The next day Freddie said he still hadn’t heard back from Brenda Lee, which ... Seriously, what the heck could the woman be doing when she was scheduled to make all these appearances at the Harvest Festival? It was strange, to be sure. Stranger still, Kate just shrugged and agreed to do her appearances for the next day.
She should have asked what the appearances would be before she agreed.
“Cooking demonstration?” she exclaimed when Freddie told her what was next. “She’s an author, for heaven’s sake! Why would she do that?”
Freddie pulled a book out of his briefcase. The cover read, Recipes from Love at Home: Cooking with Brenda Lee Mitford. “Brenda Lee likes to cook as much as she does writing. Haven’t you ever noticed the recipes in the backs of her books?”
Kate smiled apologetically to go with her conf
ession. “I probably would have, if I’d ever finished one.”
Freddie dropped the book to his side like it was suddenly too heavy to hold up. “Seriously? You live in Harvest Ranch, you’ve been impersonating Brenda Lee Mitford for almost a week, and you’ve never read her books?”
“I did read ... one,” she said. “I just may not have finished it.”
She waited to be chastised, but he surprised her. “Well, for not knowing her or her books, you’re doing a remarkable job.”
She swelled up at the compliment ... fleetingly. “Thank you. Now, about this cooking demonstration—you should know I don’t cook.”
Freddie’s eyes widened. “Not at all?”
“Well, I’m not completely without skills. I can scramble an egg without hurting myself, and I make a mean brownie-in-a-mug.”
He looked hopeful. “From scratch?”
Kate bit her lip. “No.”
“Alright, that’s okay. We can fake it.”
“Like I faked doing the voices?”
“That managed to be ... not terrible.” A smile passed between them, and it held on longer in the look he gave her. She wished he’d touch her cheek again as he had when they were painting the lobby. She’d been so sure he was about to kiss her, before a still somewhat gassy Pumpkin interrupted them.
“No, I guess not too terrible.”
He broke that spell between them and rummaged through his briefcase again. As she watched him, questions resurfaced, questions Kate had ignored for a couple of days. “Freddie, where is Brenda Lee?”
Freddie didn’t look up from his search. “Dealing with a family matter. It’s personal.”
“And I’m guessing not the best thing for publicity, since you are making such an effort to make it look like she’s here in Harvest Ranch.”
His eyes, when they met hers, showed how closely she’d hit the mark. Yes, whatever Brenda Lee was up to, it wasn’t something they wanted her fans to know about. Without answering, he resumed his search until he found what he was looking for. He held out a small case. “Earbuds. These should do the trick.”
“Earbuds?” Kate screwed up her nose. How would that help? “What, are you going to put Brenda Lee on the phone and have her whisper instructions to me?”
“That,” Freddie said, looking away and clearing his throat, “wouldn’t be a bad idea. But no, I’ll do it.”
“You? Do you cook?”
“I do.” He lifted his chin, a light coming into his eyes that she hadn’t seen before, except when he flirted.
“Oh, I see. You really cook, don’t you?” Her excitement grew over this new insight to Freddie Prescott. “You love it.”
“I do,” he said with a cheerful confidence that made him even sexier, if that was possible. “I don’t bake, but I do a lot of sauces, side dishes. I make a savory mac and cheese that would put the carbs in your breakfast donuts to shame.”
Kate bubbled up laughing. “I’m excited and a little scared, but now I won’t be happy until I try it. Is that what we’re making today?”
Freddie looked down and fiddled with the case, but she didn’t miss the proud schoolboy grin that spread across his face. “No, today’s going to be a barbecue.”
She had to push away her sudden fear, since she had never barbecued anything in her life. “And you enjoy cooking meat over a flame, do you?”
His bright eyes said it all. “Nothing like it. It’s an art, you know? Getting the heat just right, using the right type of grill for what you’re cooking. The seasoning, maybe marinade. And the cut and quality of meat ... that’s crucial.”
“Sounds like you know a lot about it.”
“I think I do.” Oh, he did. She could see it in his face and the set of his broad shoulders. Very sexy. “I spent a summer in North Carolina years ago, when I was a teenager. My uncle is an amazing cook. He taught me everything I know.”
But worry niggled. “An art form on an open flame. It sounds like a lot could go wrong.”
He held up the earbuds. “That’s what these are for. I’ll be nearby and talk you through the entire thing. Easy as pie.”
“Easy as pie.” Kate threw her hands wide, feigning nonchalance and remembering her last episode with pie. “What could go wrong?”
Freddie mimicked her, though he didn’t seem to have picked up on her sarcasm. “Exactly.”
***
Freddie could tell when Kate called the grill a cooking grid, and the marinade a soaking sauce, that this earpiece thing might not work, but he had hopes. He also had a backup plan this time, in case things didn’t work out.
Even messing up, Kate was hard not to watch. How would this crowd not notice when Brenda Lee really showed up? She had her own appeal, but nothing like Kate’s adorkable charm.
Kate stood up on the same grandstand where they’d done that fateful pie-making contest. Luckily, he didn’t believe in places being jinxed, especially since now she stood there alone, a hundred or more eyes on her, next to a flaming grill. What could go wrong?
Staring into the distance beyond, he could see the neon Cornucopia Inn sign glowing over the front entrance. Interesting, from this view he could see that side wall along the alley, the space on the other side of the lobby. It looked like there was an exterior door there. He wondered again what that space might be used for, and he guessed that the door held the answers.
“So nice of y’all to come out,” Kate addressed the crowd, speaking into the hands-free microphone the crew had set her up with. The audience cheered. “Who’s ready to cook some meat?”
The crowd cheered again, but Freddie cringed. Into the Kate’s earpiece, he asked, “‘Cook some meat’? Barbecuing takes craftsmanship, Miss O’Halloran. Give it a little respect.”
She threw him a dirty look before smiling back at the crowd. “First we’ll start with what to look for in a good piece of meat. Personally, I like to go with the cheapest cuts.”
“Yeah, I can’t watch this.” Freddie peeled off his tie and jammed the microphone into his pocket—whoops, Kate winced and pulled her earbuds out. He mouthed sorry, but he rolled up his sleeves and bounded up onto the grandstand. With the eyelashes and makeup, he couldn’t tell if Kate was more irritated or relieved, but the closer he got to her, the quicker his heart pumped. He grinned at her and grabbed the extra microphone he’d seen stashed under the table.
“Well, hello,” Kate said to Freddie, but she glanced at the crowd, who looked to be waiting for an answer. “I’d like to introduce my agent, Freddie Prescott.”
“Agent and assistant cook,” he announced with a grin and a deep breath in, “and for today’s demonstration, Brenda Lee has graciously allowed me to help.”
He could read Kate’s expression this close. It was neither gratitude nor irritation, but a spark of fun. She was excited to be doing this together, and he suddenly realized he was too.
“Could we get Freddie a headset?” she asked the crew, and a moment later he was explaining why chicken thighs grill up so much tastier than white meat, and Kate played the support role, asking questions and oohing and ahhing over how he prepared the poultry and helping him whip up the barbecue sauce.
When they placed the chicken on the hot grill, Kate shifted the microphone away from her mouth. “This is fun,” she whispered, though the sparkle in her brown eyes made him warmer than standing by the grill. He felt a little sheepish.
“It is fun. We work well together.”
“We do.” Was that flirtation? That was normally his thing, though coming from Kate it was more adorable than sexy. “And you know your way around a barbecue, Mr. Prescott.”
That drew a smile from him, and he turned his attention to adjusting the chicken on the grill. “I don’t know about that, but there’s definitely something about cooking over a grill, that early-man relationship with searing meat over a flame, perfecting it. Satisfying, is what it is.”
She looked at him through her lashes, that sweet, knowing smile that made him feel appreci
ated, understood.
A voice behind him made them both jump. “So you know the microphones still work.”
McGee. And he looked at them both like he was working on a difficult puzzle, but he thought he was almost there.
Freddie and Kate looked at the audience, who watched in silence.
“Right,” Kate said, breaking the spell between them and jumping back into her role. “Freddie, you’re a marvel around the grill, and we’ll see how you’re doing with it in a few minutes. You know, I think I can already smell those thighs cooking. While we’re waiting, let’s look at putting together a simple but lovely harvest vegetable tray.”
Freddie shook his head in wonder, the smile still stretching his cheeks. Kate might not know the Love at Home books, but she rocked the Brenda Lee role. And he didn’t even try to hide it from himself, but she’d started to rock his heart, as well.
Chapter 12
Wednesday was busy, but in a slow, wandering sort of way. Kate savored each moment. Freddie didn’t have any events scheduled for Brenda Lee, and Kate decided they deserved a break away from working on the inn. Instead, they set out to explore every corner of the festival together. They ate wonderful foods, starting with churros and ending with fried cheese, which Freddie had never heard of before. They paid one of the Filmore children to watch Pumpkin so they could ride the Ferris wheel, the carousel, and the Tilt-A-Whirl, followed by half an hour lost in the corn maze with their dog sitter and five of his friends. They shopped the merchant stalls, picking up some honey for the inn’s breakfast nook. And since Kate was finally in public as herself again, they got stopped a hundred times by people who just wanted to chat.
Throughout the day, Kate tingled every time Freddie’s hand brushed hers or their thighs rested against each other when they sat down. She marveled how easy it was to take his arm or rest her head on his shoulder. She soaked it in along with the heavenly festival air and didn’t let herself think about how soon Freddie would be going away.
