Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2
T om Dalton was in his workshop, carefully shaping the curved legs of a handmade coffee table when three sharp knocks interrupted his rhythm. He paused, setting the chisel down. Only three people knocked like that—and they usually traveled as a pack.
He considered pretending he wasn’t home, but the MacGregors had an uncanny sixth sense when it came to his whereabouts. They were persistent enough to wait him out—or worse, peek through the workshop windows. With a resigned sigh, he brushed off his hands, knowing full well they wouldn’t leave until they got what they came for.
Sure enough, there stood all three brothers on his porch, Gareth in front with his usual air of authority, Aiden quiet but watchful, and Liam grinning like he knew something amusing that no one else did.
“Whatever it is, no,” Tom said flatly.
Gareth’s eyebrows rose. “We haven’t even said anything yet.”
“You’ve got that look.” Tom crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. “The one that means you’re about to meddle in someone’s life.”
“Meddle?” Gareth pressed a hand to his chest in mock offense. “Us?”
“Need I remind you about the Christmas party incident?”
Liam’s grin widened. “Ah, but the fire department said there was no lasting damage.”
“To the building,” Tom muttered. “My dignity’s another story.” He studied their faces, noting the barely contained excitement. “What do you want?”
The brothers exchanged glances before Gareth spoke. “We’ve come to tell ye about Ella Kingsley.”
“Who?”
“The new schoolteacher,” Aiden supplied quietly.
Tom’s eyes narrowed. “And why would I need to know about the new schoolteacher?”
“Because,” Gareth said, his voice taking on that peculiar formal tone that sometimes slipped into his speech, “she’s a fine woman in need of a good man’s protection.”
“No.” Tom straightened, reaching for the door. “Absolutely not.”
Liam stuck his foot in the doorway. “You haven’t even met her yet.”
“I don’t need to meet her. I’m not interested in dating anyone, and I’m definitely not interested in being part of another one of your schemes.”
“It’s not a scheme,” Gareth protested. “We’re simply... facilitating a potential connection.”
Tom snorted. “Like you tried to facilitate connections for me with half the single women in town last year?”
“That was different,” Gareth insisted. “Ella’s family.”
“Yours or mine?”
“Ours,” Aiden said softly. “Distant, but blood nonetheless.”
Tom rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on. “So you’re telling me you’ve found some long-lost relative and decided she needs dating advice from three men who still think the internet is witchcraft?”
“We understand the internet perfectly well,” Gareth huffed. “We just don’t trust it.”
“The point is,” Liam cut in smoothly, “Ella’s new in town. A widow, She could use a friend.”
Tom’s jaw tightened. “Don’t.”
“We’re not trying to pressure you,” Aiden said, though his brothers’ expressions suggested otherwise. “Just keep an open mind.”
“My mind is perfectly happy closed, thanks.” Tom glanced past them to where his half-finished coffee table waited. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”
“At least come by the pub tonight,” Gareth pressed. “She might come in and ye can meet her properly.”
“I have plans.”
“Brooding isn’t plans,” Liam countered cheerfully.
Tom shot him a dark look. “I run a security company. I have actual work to do.”
“Ah yes, your mysterious business.” Gareth waved a hand dismissively. “The one you manage entirely from your workshop while making furniture no one’s asked for.”
“I like making furniture,” Tom said through gritted teeth. “It’s peaceful. Or it was, before three Scottish matchmakers decided to invade my Saturday.”
The brothers shared another look, this one heavy with meaning. Finally, Gareth spoke again, his voice gentler. “We worry about you, lad. All that solitude isn’t good for the soul.”
“My soul is fine.” Tom’s voice softened despite himself. He knew they meant well, in their strange, overbearing way. “Look, I appreciate the thought, but I’m not interested in dating. Anyone. Even your long-lost relative.”
“Just think about it,” Gareth persisted. “That’s all we’re asking.”
“No, it’s not. It’s never all you’re asking.” Tom shook his head. “I know you three well enough by now.”
Liam’s eyes twinkled. “Well enough to know we won’t give up easily?”
“Well enough to know I should probably add extra locks.” Tom started to close the door, then paused. “And don’t even think about sending her over here with some manufactured emergency.”
“Would we do that?” Gareth’s innocent expression wouldn’t have fooled a child.
“Yes. You would.” Tom fixed each brother with a stern look. “I mean it. Leave it alone.”
He shut the door firmly, but not before hearing Liam’s cheerful, “That went better than expected!”
Tom returned to his workshop, but his rhythm was off now. He ran a hand over the smooth wood of the coffee table, trying to recapture his earlier peace. But his mind kept catching on their words about Ella—a widow, new in town, probably feeling as lost as he had when he first arrived a few years ago.
“Not your problem,” he told himself firmly. He had enough on his plate managing his security contracts and keeping his PTSD under control. The last thing he needed was to get tangled up in the MacGregors’ well-meaning but chaotic matchmaking attempts.
Still, as he picked up his sandpaper again, he couldn’t help wondering what kind of woman would inspire such determination from the brothers. They were nosy by nature, sure, but this felt different. More personal.
“Doesn’t matter,” he muttered, focusing on the wood grain beneath his hands. “Not getting involved.”
But even as he said it, something in his gut told him the MacGregors weren’t going to let this go easily. And if there was one thing he’d learned about Harmony Falls, it was that when those three set their minds to something, the whole town eventually got pulled into their orbit.
The early morning sun streamed through the windows of Room 23, casting long shadows across the empty desks. Ella stood in the doorway of her new classroom, coffee in one hand, class roster in the other, and a sturdy tote on wheels at her side, filled to the brim with supplies. She took a moment to take in the blank canvas before her—the bare walls, the empty bulletin boards—and her mind raced with possibilities.
“Alright, let’s make some magic happen,” she murmured, setting her coffee on what would be her desk. She rolled the tote over to the nearest table, unzipped it, and began pulling out rolls of colorful paper, stacks of markers, and a pile of laminated posters. With a quick twist of her wrist, she secured her hair into a messy bun and got to work, her vision for the room already coming to life.
Two hours later, her “Welcome to Third Grade!” bulletin board was taking shape, complete with each student’s name written on a paper star. She was balancing precariously on a chair, trying to hang a world map, when a voice made her jump.
“Need a hand with that?”
Ella turned—carefully—to find a woman in her late sixties watching her with an amused expression. Despite the August heat, she wore a crisp blouse and perfectly pressed slacks, her silver hair styled in an immaculate bun.
“Mrs. Pendleton?” Ella recognized her from the staff photos Principal Hastings had shared. “I’m Ella Kingsley.”
“I gathered that, dear. Not many people break into elementary schools to decorate on a Saturday.” Her eyes twinkled. “Come down from there before you break something. Preferably not yourself.”
Ella climbed down, brushing dust from her jeans. “I wanted to get an early start. First impressions matter.”
“Hmm.” Mrs. Pendleton surveyed the room with an expert eye. “Reading nook by the window—good choice. Natural light helps with focus. And I see you’re setting up for group work.” She nodded at the clustered desks. “Brave, for a first-year teacher here.”
“I believe in collaborative learning,” Ella said, then caught the slight smile on the older woman’s face. “But you’re about to tell me why that might be a mistake?”
“Oh no, dear. I’m just remembering my first year. Had all sorts of modern ideas about teaching.” She chuckled. “Then I met the Henderson twins.”
“Should I be worried?”
“Not at all. You only have their cousins this year.”
Ella blinked. “You’re joking.”
“Welcome to small-town teaching.” Mrs. Pendleton picked up the map Ella had been struggling with. “Now, where did you want this?”
As they worked together, Mrs. Pendleton shared stories about the school and its students. Ella learned which parents volunteered for everything, which ones needed extra reminders about permission slips, and which families had been in Harmony Falls since “before dirt was invented.”
They were discussing the fall curriculum when another voice joined them. “There you are, Harriet! I thought I heard voices.”
A young woman with curly red hair bounced into the room, her floral dress swishing. “Oh! You must be Ella! I’m Farrah Bennett, second grade.” She beamed. “We’re classroom neighbors!”
“Farrah,” Mrs. Pendleton said dryly, “do try not to overwhelm our new colleague before she’s even started.”
“Too late,” Farrah said cheerfully. “I already told everyone we’re having lunch together. Jordan’s bringing his famous cucumber sandwiches.”
Right on cue, a tall man in his early twenties appeared, carrying a platter. “Did someone mention my culinary masterpiece?” He grinned at Ella. “Jordan Whitaker, fifth grade and unofficial staff room chef.”
Before Ella could respond, Farrah was pulling extra chairs into a circle. “We always do lunch together before the school year starts. It’s tradition.”
“Since last year,” Mrs. Pendleton clarified, but she was smiling.
Ella found herself swept into their circle, listening as they shared teaching tips and local gossip. Jordan’s sandwiches were indeed excellent, and Farrah’s enthusiasm for everything from classroom decorations to the upcoming fall festival was infectious.
“Speaking of the festival,” Farrah said, “have you met any of the locals yet? Besides us, I mean.”
“Just my landlord,” Ella said carefully, deciding not to mention the MacGregors. “And a few people in passing.”
“Mm-hmm.” Mrs. Pendleton’s knowing look suggested she’d already heard about the brothers’ welcoming committee. “Well, you’ll meet plenty more at the back-to-school night. Parents here are... involved.”
“Very involved,” Jordan agreed. “Especially certain Scottish gentlemen who seem to have appointed themselves the town’s unofficial welcome wagon.”
Ella groaned. “So everyone knows about that?”
“Honey,” Farrah patted her hand, “everyone knows everything in Harmony Falls. But don’t worry—the MacGregors mean well. They’re just a little...”
“Intense?” Jordan suggested.
“Old-fashioned,” Mrs. Pendleton said firmly. “But good people. They’ve done a lot for this town, even if their methods are sometimes... unconventional.”
The other teachers exchanged glances that set off warning bells in Ella’s mind, but before she could press further, Principal Hastings appeared in the doorway.
“Welcome committee already in session, I see.” She smiled warmly. “Ms. Kingsley, your classroom is looking wonderful.”
“Thank you.” Ella straightened. “I was hoping to get everything ready well before the first day.”
“Excellent initiative. But don’t work too hard—we want you to enjoy these last few days of freedom.” She glanced at the other teachers. “And I trust your colleagues are being helpful?”
“We’re being delightful,” Farrah declared. “And we’re taking Ella to the Harvest Moon Café for dinner.”
“We are?” Ella asked.
“We are,” Mrs. Pendleton confirmed. “Best pie in three counties. And you need to know where to get decent coffee before the students arrive.”
Principal Hastings nodded approvingly. “Just stay away from the pub across from your apartment until you’re ready for... local color.”
“Too late. I already met them,” Ella said, remembering the awkward but friendly encounter.
Jordan’s brows rose. “Oh, do tell.”
Ella chuckled. “Nothing to tell. They came over as I was moving in and introduced themselves.”
As she sat in the teacher’s lounge with her new colleagues, Ella felt warmth spread through her chest as they conversation turned to food again and they debated the merits of various local restaurants. This, at least, felt right—the easy camaraderie, the shared purpose, the simple joy of preparing a space for learning.
For the first time since arriving in Harmony Falls, she felt a little more at home.
Then Farrah mentioned something about the MacGregors hosting a welcome dinner for new residents, and Ella’s peace cracked slightly.
“Don’t worry,” Mrs. Pendleton murmured as the others chatted. “You’ll get used to them. We all do, eventually.”
Somehow, Ella wasn’t entirely sure that was reassuring.