Dream of Me (Harmony Falls, Book 1)

by Gaelen Foley

  Just having Harry back made her feel that everything really might just turn out okay.

  “I’d better go feed the dogs,” she remarked as they strolled along. But when they came to a vantage point with a sweeping view of the moonlit farm, with the wild forest and the mountains wrapped around it, Harry suddenly stopped in his tracks.

  “Oh my God,” he said.

  “What?” she asked.

  He was silent for a heartbeat, immobile, then let out a sudden laugh. “Oh, man!”

  “What?”

  “I’ve got it.”

  “Got what?” she cried.

  He turned to her, flush with a devilish look of excitement. “I know how to save your farm. All of it.”

  She blinked. “Oh really?”

  “Yep. Oh, man… I just had an idea for the ages.”

  “You did?”

  He turned and gazed sweetly at her in the starlight. “This is your home, Bea. And I’m not going to let anybody take it away from you.”

  Holding his stare, she was too overcome to speak, let alone tell him right now about her own progress based on Vanessa’s suggestion. I’m so in love with you.

  Bending down, he kissed her on the lips, then lightly, playfully, on the nose, and when he smiled at her again, the dreamy look in his eyes made her believe he might be thinking the same thing.

  They stared, both mystified at what they’d found together.

  But at length, he put his arm around her shoulders and they walked on.

  “So are you going to tell me about this big inspiration of yours or what?” Bea leaned her head against him as they left the field and trod across the gravel.

  “Soon. I need a few minutes to ponder.”

  “You got it, Idea Guy.” Ahead, the dogs rose from the porch. Tails wagging, they whined for their supper. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” she said. “I think they’re hungry.”

  “How about you?” Harry inquired.

  She grinned. “Kinda worked up an appetite.”

  “Me too. What say you take care of the dogs and then let me take you out to dinner?”

  “Nothing fancy,” she said.

  “Sure, but I ain’t cooking. It’s Saturday night.”

  She laughed. “How ’bout Daisy’s Diner? That’s where Chloe works, you know. And guess what?” She poked his washboard abs and taunted in a singsong, “They have pie.”

  “Ooh, pie,” Harry said. They marched up the steps, and he shrugged. “Any place is fine with me, really, as long as it’s quiet and I can have your undivided attention.”

  “You always have that,” she said as he opened the screen door for her.

  “Good. Because we need to hash this out,” he said as the dogs followed them into the kitchen. “Kind of a crazy idea, but I think it’ll work—and I know you’re going to love it. Trust me,” he added with a wink.

  Lord help her, she already did.

  “All righty, then,” she said, unable to wipe the beaming smile off her face, “Daisy’s Diner it is.” Shaking her head, she wondered what new magic trick he had up his sleeve now. “This I gotta hear.”

  CHAPTER 19

  Eight days later

  A few minutes past ten on the following Sunday morning, everyone began arriving at the Knickpoint for the big town meeting that Harry had called.

  Word must’ve spread among the locals and small business owners, he guessed, because now they needed a third long table in the pub’s main hall to accommodate all the people crowding in.

  Some Harry recognized from cleanup day after the tornado; others he’d never met. They seemed to be coming right over as soon as church let out across the square. He was kind of giddy with the outpouring of enthusiasm for the project he’d proposed; he could smell the excitement in the air. Far more people than he’d expected were showing up to learn more and hopefully participate.

  But why was he surprised? After the twister, he had seen how the people of Harmony Falls could pull together when the occasion called.

  Chief Mike had made it there first that morning, unsurprisingly, helping Jack and Harry set up tables. Before long, a few of the other local cops ambled in. They shook Harry’s hand, and Bea pointed them cheerfully to where the coffee was set up, along with the mugs, carafes, cream, and sugar she’d just put out.

  “Help yourselves, folks. Brunch will be served soon, but I gotta warn you, Finn’s the one cooking, so…” She shrugged with a grin and hurried off, hands high, as various people laughed, but when she spotted a little old man in a police uniform she rushed off to greet him.

  Harry later learned that “Pops” was considered Chief Mike’s top deputy—never mind the little old guy looked about eighty and like a good breeze could blow him over. Then Zander shuffled in and slapped Harry on the back, distracting him. “Yo, Riley, what’s up.”

  The pilot/guitarist immediately found his way to the jukebox. Its bluish neon glow reflected onto his sandy-blond hair as he fed the machine quarters and chose a set of chill reggae beats to play softly for this sunny Sunday morning gathering.

  “Tunes, check. What’s next?” Bea asked, hurrying back from all the running around she’d been doing, greeting people and setting up, to sneak a quick squeeze of Harry’s hand. “I can’t believe this is really happening,” she whispered, bouncing on her toes with excitement.

  Harry loved seeing her so full of positive energy and hope. She had gone for his crazy idea in a big way. He knew she would. It was so her.

  Her sun-kissed shoulders shimmered under her pink tank top, and her amber-specked eyes were so full of faith in him that he felt ten feet tall. Now he knew what he’d been missing all this time that he’d sworn off relationships. Making a woman so immensely happy could make a guy feel like a damn king.

  Then Ron Cipriani from the ice cream shop came in, beaming at Harry, who’d assisted in resurrecting the Big Scoop after the storm. Today, the little mustachioed man came bearing gifts of Klondikes for everybody. “Jack! These need to be kept cold!” he called.

  “I’ll take those for you, Mr. Cipriani,” Bea said, shifting the large box into her arms. “I know where Jack’s freezer is. Thanks for bringing them.”

  “Sure, Bea. Hey, your grandparents here?”

  “Not yet, they’re still at church, but they should be here any minute.” She directed him toward the coffee, then hurried off.

  Next, Harry spotted young Lance’s group of dudes without their leader mosey into the burgeoning crowd, and heaved a sigh of relief. They were amazingly reliable for a bunch of teenagers.

  When the tallest kid noticed Harry, who was now standing with his clipboard at the head of the table nearest the big oak bar, he held one thumb high in the air and grinned. Harry knew that to mean all was going just fine with Lance over at the Sunday farmers’ market. Bea couldn’t miss a day’s sales to unload the produce the storm hadn’t destroyed, along with the fruit that some of the trees continued to give.

  He gave the boys a hearty nod of thanks, and they beamed with pride, but then did a collective double take and gawked when Chloe drifted in.

  So did most of the grown men, for that matter. Harry arched a brow when he noticed both Jack and Mike do the same. Hmm.

  Dressed in a tightfitting jean jacket and dangly earrings, Bea’s best friend passed out some hugs around the table. Harry had since learned that Chloe worked at Daisy’s Diner when she wasn’t teaching yoga. The two part-time gigs seemed like a mysterious career move for a gal with a polished professional background, but go figure, he thought. By now he’d come to understand that a lot of these people moved to Harmony Falls to live in a way better suited to their true, authentic selves, just like Bea.

  Chloe cast everyone her Mona Lisa smile as she glided past, greeted Harry, then casually stepped behind the bar and tied on an apron, unasked. Lance’s high school pals magically appeared at the counter, swooping over to stand grinning before her.

  “Hi Chloe,” they said in a chorus.

  “Hi
guys. The usual?” she asked.

  They nodded swiftly, entranced.

  “You got it,” the blonde said with a smile, then turned away to make the kids a round of tall chocolate milkshakes.

  Fashionably late, the Nordic-looking Regina strode in next wearing a green sundress with brown leather sandals. By now, Harry had met all Bea’s friends, and privately he’d decided that the fierce little EMT was by far the most…well, memorable.

  A natural-born ballbuster, she might be only five foot two, but Harry had learned, to his amusement, that she took absolutely no shit from anyone. Reggie unearthed two bottles of champagne from a cloth shopping sack and asked, “Mimosas, anyone?”

  Chloe took the cue, done serving the kids. She clapped her hands together and darted behind the bar again to fetch as many crystal flutes as she could dangle between her fingers.

  Meanwhile, Jack placed stout growler jugs filled with orange juice here and there on the long, sturdy tables. He let fistfuls of forks and knives clatter into heaps next to the pitchers before disappearing back into the kitchen.

  “Sorry I’m late,” called Julia, the ginger-haired librarian, bustling into the pub. Harry was relieved to see one of his key assistants in this project arrive.

  He was counting on Jules’s help. All her fundraising experience for the library and connections with local business donors would be critical throughout this process.

  The endearing but slightly klutzy redhead wore a royal-blue business skirt-suit and carried an iPad under her arm, her spiked heels clicking on the pub’s hardwood floor.

  “Aren’t you a little overdressed for the occasion?” Reg looked her friend over from head to toe.

  “This is a business meeting,” Jules replied. “Besides, I was the lector at mass this morning.”

  “Thank you so much for your help, Julia,” Harry greeted her warmly.

  Emerald eyes twinkling, she gave him a Euro peck on each cheek and said, “It is my absolute honor. I am so excited about this.”

  He showed her to the empty seat he’d saved next to his, and there she perched a pair of reading glasses on her freckled nose and got herself organized.

  Just then, Patrick Finn, river scout Carlos, and two other adventure guides swung out of the big kitchen doors, proudly carrying platters stacked high with waffles, sausages, scrambled eggs, and hash browns.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, breakfast is served!” Finn yelled.

  Jack inspected Finn’s generous feast with a dubious glance as the trays passed him by. “Hmm.”

  “Oh, God, somebody call an ambulance,” Reg said, and even Harry grimaced at Finn’s burnt-edged waffles and runny, lopsided eggs.

  “What?” Leatherstocking cried, glancing around at all the skeptical faces. “That’s why God invented syrup.”

  Chloe let out a large I told you so sigh, tossed a hand towel over her shoulder, and headed for the kitchen.

  But Mike stepped up bravely to serve as the guinea pig. “What doesn’t kill us only makes us stronger.” The chief then lifted a bare waffle off the stack, took a large bite, and chewed. He nodded in relief, like the royal food taster checking for poison. “It’s not Chloe’s or Mrs. Palmer’s, but it’s not bad.”

  “Let’s eat!” Jack boomed, clapping his hands together.

  Big platters were passed around. Once everybody had helped themselves to eggs and waffles, bacon and sausage, pastries from the bakery, and all the other fare on offer, they found the chief was right. Finn’s cooking wasn’t as awful as it looked. Mike ducked into the kitchen to pull Chloe back out with the crowd; apparently, she’d been ready to start the meal over again from scratch if necessary.

  Once they all had a chance to start eating, Harry stood, swigged the last of his coffee, picked up his clipboard, and cleared his throat. It was time to officially kick off the meeting.

  No one took the hint, so Reg, always keenly aware of her surroundings, began tapping her glass with her spoon. When that didn’t work, she rose to her feet, cupped her hands around her mouth and bellowed, “Yo, people! Listen up!”

  Bea stifled a laugh and looked at Harry, who shrugged. Well, that worked.

  “Ahem. Thank you, Regina,” Harry said as a hush came over the crowd. Forks clanked on platters but all eyes focused on Harry, in full CEO mode. “Bea and I are grateful to see so many faces here today.”

  “Hear, hear!” called Mike.

  That gave the whole pub a reason to toast. When they’d all finished tapping coffee mugs and orange juice glasses—or sparkling mimosas, as the case might be—Harry continued. Or, at least, tried to. “We’ve asked you all here because we’ve got an idea about how to make up for some of the losses that the Palmer Family Farm and so many of your local businesses suffered as a result of the tornado and the bridge being out.”

  A vicious explosion of earth-shaking sneezes suddenly erupted from Jack.

  Some of the ladies nearly jumped at the roar as the otherwise menacing, steel-chested marine succumbed to an allergy attack consisting of eight or ten consecutive, full-body, deep-throated sneezes, his face buried in a wad of tissues.

  Once he’d finished his disruptive episode, he looked up at the startled crowd and said, disheveled and sniffling, “Sorry. Frickin’ goldenrod.”

  “Bless you,” Harry said. “Anyway, as I was saying. Our idea is to hold a big autumn festival at the Palmer Family Farm and get the tourists back out here for all those gorgeous autumn weekends in October. If we can pull in a few thousand people for this event, and charge five bucks at the door, plus ticket sales for activities and food, I think everyone could really make up for some of these summer losses. Although we’d be holding the festival at the farm, you’d all be welcome to set up vendor tables or concession stands.

  “There’d be music, a petting zoo, pony rides, tractor-pulled hayrides, a corn maze. There could be activities for the kids, face painting, games, craft demonstrations. Whatever floats your boat. Outdoorsy stuff. Give ’em a taste of what Harmony Falls has got to offer, and that way we can get ’em back here again next year.”

  Murmurs began flying around as people began discussing the possibilities amongst themselves; the mood was upbeat.

  So far, so good, Harry thought, then he yielded the floor to Bea, who stood up to continue the explanation. “A few people have already agreed to get involved. Jack said he’d run a beer tent offering his Oktoberfest brews. Finn and his crew have agreed to set up a temporary zip line in the wooded section of the farm. Chloe’s baking cookies. And I just sowed a whole field of fast-grower pumpkins that should be ready by Halloween, fingers crossed.”

  “There’s so much else we could do, too,” Jules said eagerly, rising to her feet. “We could decorate the inside of Bea’s barn and hold a square dance! Tell me that wouldn’t be adorable.”

  The high school kids wrinkled their noses, and Reggie arched a brow. Clearly, she didn’t do adorable.

  “And a costume contest, since it’ll be close to Halloween,” someone yelled from the back.

  “I love that,” Bea said, grinning.

  “I think this is a great idea, you guys,” Mike announced. “Great for the town; great for the visitors, too. It’ll bring the whole community together after what we all just went through. It’ll give us something to look forward to. There’s only one problem. What about Hooper Bridge?

  “If we expect visitors to come from miles around, we’re gonna need crews working out there day and night to get it rebuilt in time. I don’t know if it can be done,” Mike said with a frown. “I can pull some strings with the mayor’s office to cut through some of the red tape, but the town council hasn’t even started talking about the budget for a new bridge yet.”

  The whole crowd groaned.

  “Not to worry,” Harry quickly assured them, a wily smile curving his lips. “I know some guys. Engineers. Construction crews. Already made a few calls.”

  Bea looked at him in relief.

  “Actually,” Jules spoke up in a d
elicate tone, “I have a question, too.”

  “Yeah?” Harry asked, turning to her.

  “Um, how exactly are we going to pay for all this? I mean, I can already see that a big event like this could bring in a lot of money over the course of October. But holding any sort of fundraiser takes a certain amount of cash up front to pay for things like equipment rentals, signage, advertising.”

  “Ahem!” Bea said loudly as the room fell silent with dismay at this obstacle. “Funny story. Let me tell you…” When she sent an adoring glance in Harry’s direction, he could feel himself almost starting to blush. He sent her a discreet scowl and shook his head, but she told the whole town about his good deed anyway. “You guys all remember Harry’s late, great Porsche?”

  The high school boys and several grown men winced and groaned at the reminder of the beautiful, high-performance gentleman’s toy that had landed in a tree.

  “May she rest in peace,” Jack said, shaking his head.

  “Well, when his insurance company reimbursed him for the car, this wonderful guy of mine decided that’s what he wanted to do with the money. Help our town recover from the twister…and help me save my farm.”

  Harry winced, dropping his gaze and definitely coloring now, as several women here and there said, “Awwww!” Then the applause broke out. He waved it off with a playful scowl. But Bea’s face shone as she clapped for him, too, leaning near to press a kiss to his cheek in front of everyone.

  “My hero,” she murmured.

  And that made everything worthwhile.

  “Happy to do it,” he mumbled, brushing aside the fuss as quickly as possible. “All right, then. If nobody’s got any further objections, why don’t we start brainstorming?”

  Julia furiously took notes over the next two hours as the whole gang brainstormed with such an infectious buzz of creativity and enthusiasm that plans for the harvest festival were soon sounding bigger and better than either he or Bea could have dreamed.

  They’d have to do something about the farm’s hidden driveway, but that was an easy fix. They’d charge a flat entry fee for admission, of course, and then have the requisite hayrides, a few carnival game booths and a bouncy house for the kids, craft stalls, baked goods, fried food, and raffle baskets donated by local businesses.