Chapter Fifteen
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
T he bed felt unnaturally cold and empty when I woke up the next morning. It took me a split second to realize that I was in my bedroom, not Dan’s. A split second later, my eyes were flooded with tears as all of the awful memories of yesterday resurfaced. Unfortunately, staying in bed all day and crying wasn’t an option. The festival was going to begin in a few short hours, and I needed to do what I did best: ignore my self-interest for the good of everyone who depended on me. It might be my last chance before everything came crashing down.
Dan was sitting at the kitchen table, sipping a mug of tea. He rose when he saw me, pulled out a chair for me to sit down, and placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of me. We hadn’t said a word to each other since he’d found me on the festival grounds last night. Every second that passed between us felt like a heavy weight. After a sip of the coffee that was perfectly prepared because the man who made it knew exactly how I liked it, I drew in a deep breath and opened my mouth to speak.
“No, Emma.” Dan placed his hand on mine, causing my chest to tighten in despair and the words to die on my lips. “Let me talk.” He turned his chair to face me fully. “I’ve never considered myself to be a jealous man, but seeing you with… Teddy yesterday…” He paused for a moment before shaking his head and continuing. “I can’t excuse the way I reacted. You are the strongest person I know, and I know you’re more than capable of handling yourself. I’m sorry I overreacted. It was childish and embarrassing. You were right. In that moment, the prospect of losing you to a bloke like that—well, to anyone really—made me react in a way I shouldn’t have.” He placed my palm on his cheek, and I moved my thumb back and forth over his beard while blinking my tears away. “I’ve seen you at this table night after night for weeks, working your arse off to plan this festival. I’m not going to ruin the opportunity for you to see all of your hard work come to fruition. We have a lot to talk about, but not now. It can wait until you’re ready. I couldn’t call myself a man who loves you if I didn’t also let you enjoy the things that matter to you. Because you matter to me, Emma, so, so much.” He leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on my forehead before leaving me alone in the kitchen.
As I stared into my coffee mug, watching the steam dissipate until it grew cold, I couldn’t help but think how much more emotionally mature Dan was compared to Teddy. I desperately wished that I could tell him everything about Teddy’s impromptu visit to town, but he was right. Now wasn’t the time. I had to focus on the festival.
“This year’s opening speech will be bittersweet. Bitter because this is the first Harvest Festival in all my years in this town we call home where I can’t look into the crowd and see George and Harriet King’s smiling faces. But it is also sweet because, in their absence, George and Harriet continue to rain blessings on us in the form of their beautiful, smart, and very generous granddaughter, Emmaline. She not only worked tirelessly, along with my beautiful wife, Belinda, to put together this day of celebration, but she has also given us hope that the legacy of the work that the Kings put in motion all those years ago will continue for years to come.” The crowd broke out into applause, and I tried to paste on a convincing smile. “Well, I won’t drone on for too long because I know you’re anxious to get to the deep-fried ice cream, so it is my biggest honor to welcome you to the fifty-second annual Harvest Festival!”
The crowd whooped and cheered, Belinda cut the ribbon, and the crowd filed into the festival grounds. There wasn’t really much for me to do besides walk around, make small talk, and admire my handiwork. My mind drifted to Dan’s words from this morning.
I’m not going to ruin the opportunity for you to see all of your hard work come to fruition.
My eyes scanned the crowded field until I found him competing with Melissa and a few of the other kids from town at the ring toss game. I had no idea how that man had managed to steal my heart so completely. He caught my eye and waved. I waved back. Though Teddy’s plan may have marked the end of this idyllic life I’d built for myself, I’d resolved to tell Dan the truth before the festival ended. He deserved to know.
“Emma.” Belinda’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts, and I turned away from Dan to face her. “The reporter from the County Gazette is here for the walk-through.” Her beauty-pageant smile told a different story than her eyes. Her dark brown irises bore into mine.
Watch what you say to these people.
“Are you ready, darling?” she asked, and delicately placed a gloved hand on the small of my back, urging me forward.
“Are you kidding?” I laughed. “This is the only thing I haven’t worried about getting wrong since I got here. PR is my life.”
She chuckled in response.
We were still laughing when we were approached by the mayor, who was deep in conversation with a man in his late twenties, holding a tape recorder. A photographer was rapidly snapping photos of them.
“There she is!” Mayor Cole and the reporter turned to face me. “Emmitt Fong, from the County Gazette , this is the young lady I’ve been telling you about. Emma Walters has been the town’s savior since she took over her grandparents’ farm.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far.” I chuckled and placed a palm on Mayor Cole’s bicep. “I’d like to think the town saved me.” The mayor and Belinda beamed. Emmitt’s head did a little side tilt, and one corner of his mouth curved into an appreciative smile. He knew the perfect sound bite when he heard it. Bull’s-eye. It was the perfect quote, but it was also the truth. My thoughts immediately went to Dan before we continued our stroll around the grounds.
“—important to focus on the agricultural foundation of our town,” I was saying as the four of us strolled through the festival grounds.
“Ah, yes.” Emmitt slowed his stroll and turned to face me. “I was very curious about that. In a time when small, local farms are being taken over by large conglomerates or simply going bankrupt, your family farm has not only thrived, but the town has become something of a tourist attraction without losing its small-town charm. The effects are felt through the entire county. How would you explain this?” He raised an eyebrow and extended his recorder closer to my face.
“Well.” I pasted on my best debutante smile and chuckled to buy myself a few seconds. I looked at Belinda and Mayor Cole, whose well-practiced, frozen smiles told me that they weren’t going to jump in with a response. I sighed and my gaze swept over the crowded festival grounds. My eyes landed on a frail woman wearing a headscarf. Her cheeks were hollow, and her eyes were rimmed with dark circles, but they were sparkling. She was being gleefully dragged to a cotton candy stand by a young girl, trailed by a man pushing a stroller with a toddler inside.
“It’s the people,” I said finally, with a smile.
“Can you elaborate on that?” Emmitt asked.
“Of course. This town is full of magic. It’s become a place that people come to find refuge from the stresses of modern life. That’s not to say the town isn’t modern, but a visit here is a rejuvenating experience for so many, and as a PR rep, I can tell you that offering a great experience plus word of mouth is the best advertising.”
“It’s almost medicinal,” Emmitt remarked with a nod.
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that!” Mayor Cole barked out an overly loud laugh. Belinda joined in. “But there is no sickness I’ve heard of that couldn’t be cured with a slice of cherry pie from Greenie’s Diner. We’ll have to make sure to get you one before the day is over.”
“Speaking of the farm,” I said as we approached Ernesto and some other workers from our farm at a large booth, “this is my family’s farm. This is Ernesto Alvarez, one of the farm managers.” Ernesto was leaning over a mini chicken coop, talking to a group of eager young children. I noticed a little girl in a wheelchair at the back of the crowd, struggling to get a better view of the demonstration. “Excuse me for a moment.” I pushed her to the front of the crowd, where Ernesto caught my eye and smiled before placing a baby chick in her lap. She squealed and scooped the chick into her hands before rubbing it against her cheek. My heart warmed.
“I see that your farm is a no-kill farm, though you raise animals. That must make it hard to be profitable.” Emmitt resumed his interview as we resumed our stroll.
“Our farm produces plenty of things that bring in revenue”—Mayor Cole’s smile faltered—“like produce, dairy, plants, and lots of other things”—I swiped a jar off the nearby table and handed it to Emmitt—“like honey. Here: my gift to you.” I grinned. “It’s the best in the county.”
He smiled and accepted the jar. He seemed to have satisfied his curiosity about the town, which was a huge relief. The last thing I needed was something else to pile onto the disaster swirling around Teddy’s impromptu visit.
“Ah, this is Roberta”—Mayor Cole beamed—“one of our successful proprietors.” Roberta was perched on a mini platform suspended over a large tub of water. Beside the tub was a table holding a basket filled with large softballs with a sign the read:
$10 FOR 3 C HANCES!!
A LL P ROCEEDS G O T O
S ACRED M ERCY C HILDREN’S H OSPITAL
“C’mon, Mayor Cole,” Roberta shouted. “Try and dunk me. No one has been able to do it yet.” She cackled.
“No, thank you.” The mayor held up his hands in concession.
“What about you, Emma?” She clapped her hands and shouted, “You know I love taking your money. It’s for a good cause.”
I smiled sweetly and approached the table, remembering how successful a proprietor Roberta was during our first meeting at the Feed ’n’ Farm. We’ve reconciled and our relationship has definitely changed for the better, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t glean a small sense of satisfaction from watching her sink into the icy cold water of the basin below. After all, it was for a good cause.
“Mayor Cole, I didn’t bring my wallet. Do you mind?” Mayor Cole handed me a ten-dollar bill and I handed it to Roberta’s assistant and grabbed my first softball.
“Make sure she’s behind the line,” Roberta yelled. “No cheating!”
With my toes squarely behind the line of white tape, I threw the first ball at the target. It sailed wide to the left and hit the vinyl sheet before rolling to the ground.
“Whew!” Roberta shook her head. “That was terrible. You’re lucky you’re cute.”
I smiled again and grabbed a second ball. This one sailed to the right, missing the target again.
“Humph.” Roberta sneered. “I guess you can’t be good at everything. At least you tried.”
I took a deep breath, stepped out of my stilettos, and crouched in the pitching stance I’d perfected during the many years I’d played softball—four of them on my high school’s varsity team.
Roberta went silent as I wound up for my pitch. With a flick of my wrist, the ball flew like a rocket directly toward the middle of the target. There was a loud crack, followed by Roberta’s wail and a loud splash. Everyone burst into applause, including a few onlookers that Roberta had been, no doubt, taunting all day. She popped out of the water and smoothed her hair out of her face before shaking her head with a smile.
I was called away to deal with an electricity issue with one of the rides as the mayor and the others continued the tour. As I watched them walk away, Belinda turned and gave me a wink and a thumbs-up. Warmth momentarily flooded my chest with relief that, despite what was coming, at least this was going well.
Though I’d never been to a Harvest Festival, I was confident that this was the best one the town had ever had. The performances were electrifying. All of the games and rides ran smoothly, and the food… well, the food was amazing. Most of my day was spent receiving compliments and congratulations. Usually, I would have loved all of the appreciation, but today it only gave me a heavy heart.
Dan was giving me space. I understood his reasons, but right now, I needed to find him. The fireworks were about to start soon. Sandra Carmichael was in the middle of a very boring story about potato salad that I was smiling and nodding through when I saw Dan walking toward me, smiling. He was carrying two giant caramel apples.
“Hey, Sandy.” He grinned at her. “Do you mind if I borrow this beautiful lady for a moment?”
“Of course, I don’t.” Her eyes darted between us, and her face spread into a sly grin. “Emmaline, I’ll tell you about how I chop my onions later,” she said knowledgeably. “It makes all the difference.”
“Thank you,” I whispered when she was out of earshot.
“Really?” He raised an eyebrow. “I’d be rather interested in her veg chopping method. Maybe we should call her back…” He turned his head in her direction before I reached up and grabbed his chin.
“Don’t you dare,” I hissed. “Is one of these for me?” I pointed at the apples.
“Oh no, these are both for me.” His beard twitched before he offered me the bigger of the two candy-covered fruits.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“You’re quite welcome,” he said in a low voice. His expression softened, becoming more serious. “Are you enjoying the festival?” he asked, but I sensed that wasn’t what he really wanted to know.
“Yeah, it’s so—”
“Hold on a sec, love.” He pulled his buzzing phone out of his pocket and stared at the screen. My belly did a little flip when he called me love. “That’s my mum.” He sounded confused.
“Really? Isn’t it like three in the morning in London?”
“Yeah,” he whispered, still not looking up from his screen. “I need to take this. I’ll be right back.”
“Of course.” I nodded and watched him tap the phone screen before bringing it to his ear. He paced back and forth for a few minutes, and whatever the conversation was, it sounded serious. When his call finally ended, he stood staring at the ground. I rushed over to him. His expression was grim, but when he saw me approaching, his grim expression turned to hurt and anger. It made my blood run cold.
“Dan?” I asked cautiously.
“You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” He glared at me.
“What?”
“My mum was contacted by the media today looking for a statement about my accusations about Wesley. Why do you think that is?”
“I can explain—” I started.
“Can you? Can you explain why, three days after I confided in you about the darkest time in my life, it’s due to become bloody front-fucking-page news again?”
“Dan, I—”
“My family and friends will be harassed by the press again.” His chest was heaving and he glared at me. I couldn’t speak. “This explains the dozens of missed calls from unidentified numbers… And Melanie called me today. After nearly three fucking years.” My heart lurched at the thought of him talking to his ex-girlfriend, but this moment wasn’t about my jealousy.
“Dan.” I drew in a deep breath. “You deserve vindication. People deserve to know the truth.”
“I deserve not to have my girlfriend blow my life up weeks before my brother’s wedding.”
Shit. I hadn’t even thought about the wedding or how the publicity would affect his family.
“Why, Emma?” He was still angry, but his eyes were pleading with me. “Why would you do this? What were you thinking?”
“Dan—” I tried to reach for him and he backed away, making my eyes sting with tears. “You have done so much for me. I wanted to do something for you. I’m a PR rep. This is what I do best. I just wanted the world to know how brilliant, talented, and amazing you are.”
“Emma, how do you not understand this? I don’t give a fuck if the world knows how brilliant, talented, and amazing I am. I stopped caring about that shit the moment I laid eyes on you.”
“What?” I whispered, my voice thick with tears. “Why?”
“Because… you… you became my world.”
My heart stopped and I lost the power of speech.
“My God, Emma. Do you realize what you could’ve started? What if the story reaches the US? What if the press comes poking around the town… around the greenhouse?”
How had that thought not crossed my mind? I prided myself on being able to think three steps ahead in any situation, but I was so blinded by my misguided need to protect Dan that I didn’t think. Damn, how did Max get this done so fast? Because she’s Maxima Clarke , I answered myself, and she’s really fucking good at her job .
“I can try to get the story killed,” I stammered. “I can talk to your family at the wedding. I can explain every—”
“No, Emma.” Dan shook his head. “It’s far too late for that. I’ll have to deal with this mess when I go to London for the wedding.”
“When we go to London for the wedding?” I whispered.
“Emma, we have a lot of shit to sort through,” he said sternly, “and to add this?” He shook his head. “I still haven’t begun to wrap my head around this. I need time.”
“Dan, please, let—”
“You fucking betrayed me, Emma. I trusted you. How am I supposed to introduce you to my family? This is the woman to whom I told my deepest secrets, and she didn’t wait a full day before she decided to tell the world? Or should I introduce you as the woman who might leave me at any moment for her rich fiancé?”
“What?” My face snapped up to meet his. “I told you that Teddy and I are over.”
“Yeah, Emma, but I’m quickly discovering that your words and actions are two vastly different things.”
“That’s not fair.”
“You don’t get to talk to me about fair when my mum is crying because reporters are camped outside of her kitchen window at three in the morning.”
“I’m sorry,” I managed to say in a croak. Dan shook his head at me before slowly backing away, turning, and leaving me standing in the middle of the festival grounds, holding a caramel apple that I would never eat.
Just as he disappeared from view, the fireworks started.