Chapter 9
CHAPTER 9
E lla hesitated at Gareth and Lissa MacGregors’ front door, wine bottle in hand. The house was exactly what she’d expected - a sprawling mountain lodge built from massive timber and natural stone, with a wrap-around porch dotted with Adirondack chairs and rustic oak side tables perfect for afternoon drinks. A double porch swing swayed gently in the evening breeze, its plush cushions embroidered with graceful thistles in deep purples and silvers. The heavy wooden posts supporting the porch roof were intricately carved with Celtic symbols - endless knots, spirals, and triskeles that seemed to flow from one design to the next. Through the tall pines to her left, she could make out Liam’s impressive lodge, while Aiden’s equally grand home was visible through the trees to her right, both with windows already glowing warmly in the gathering dusk. She’d been avoiding this invitation for weeks, but Lissa’s warm insistence had finally worn down her resistance.
Before she could knock, the door swung open. Zoey stood there, copper hair gleaming in the porch light. “I saw your aura approaching,” she said by way of greeting. “It’s much calmer than last week.”
“I—what?”
“Don’t mind her,” Lissa called from inside. “Zoey sees auras like most people see bad fashion choices - constantly and with strong opinions.”
Ella found herself laughing as she stepped inside. The house’s interior was surprisingly cozy, with comfortable furniture and what looked like children’s toys hastily tucked behind a sofa.
Amber appeared from the kitchen, carrying a tray of snacks. “The men have been exiled to the pub for the evening. Though Gareth acted like we were sending him to the gallows.”
“He’s just nervous about leaving me alone in my ‘delicate condition,’“ Lissa rolled her eyes, patting her pregnant belly. “As if I haven’t done this before.”
“To be fair,” Zoey settled into an armchair, “you did go into labor during a book club, the last time.”
“That was coincidence,” Lissa protested. “And we finished discussing the book first.”
Ella took a seat on the couch, accepting a glass of wine from Amber. “What are we reading?”
“Oh honey,” Amber grinned. “We haven’t actually discussed a book in months. This is just our excuse to drink wine and talk without the men hovering.”
“I think the men are on to us though,” Zoey added. “Last time Liam kept sneaking in to ‘check the windows’ while we were supposed to be discussing Jane Austen.”
“And Aiden installed three new smoke detectors during ‘Pride and Prejudice,’“ Lissa added.
“While Gareth just sat on the porch looking tragic,” Amber finished. “So now they get banished to the pub on book club nights.”
Something about their easy banter made Ella relax. These women were nothing like their intense husbands - or rather, they wore their intensity differently, wrapped in warmth and humor.
“So,” Amber topped off their glasses, “how are you settling in? Besides having our resident brooding security expert following you around like a lost puppy?”
“He doesn’t—” Ella started.
“He does,” all three women said in unison.
“Tom’s a good man,” Zoey said more gently. “Just... careful with his heart.”
“I’m not interested in his heart,” Ella protested. “Or any other part of him.”
“Your aura says differently,” Zoey murmured into her wine glass.
Before Ella could respond, Lissa leaned forward. “Look, we know our husbands can be... overwhelming. They mean well, but they’re a bit stuck in their ways.”
“Very stuck,” Amber agreed. “Like, several centuries stuck.”
Lissa shot her a look. “The point is, we want you to feel welcome here. Not because of any schemes or plans, but because this town has a way of bringing the right people together.”
“It brought us together,” Zoey added softly. “All of us found our way home.”
Something in her tone made Ella touch her pendant absently. Lissa’s eyes followed the movement.
“That’s beautiful,” she said carefully. “Family heirloom?”
“Yes,” Ella answered automatically, then narrowed her eyes. “But you already knew that, didn’t you? The way your husbands keep asking about it...”
The women exchanged glances. Finally, Amber spoke. “There’s a lot of history in that pendant. And in this town. Sometimes they intersect in ways that can’t be ignored.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means,” Zoey cut in smoothly, “that family connections run deep here. And sometimes the past has a way of circling back around.”
“You’re being as cryptic as your husbands,” Ella accused, but without heat.
“Give us time,” Lissa smiled. “Some stories need the right moment to be told. For now, just know that you have friends here. No strings, no schemes - just us.”
“And wine,” Amber added. “Lots of wine.”
“And my allegedly questionable aura-reading abilities,” Zoey grinned.
Ella looked between them - Lissa’s steady warmth, Amber’s vibrant energy, Zoey’s ethereal perception. She thought of her own small apartment, of quiet evenings missing Bella’s chaotic friendship.
“Alright,” she said finally. “But I have conditions.”
“Name them,” Lissa agreed immediately.
“No more cryptic comments about my pendant. No matchmaking attempts with Tom. And someone needs to explain why there’s a suit of armor in your foyer.”
“The armor was Gareth’s idea,” Amber rolled her eyes. “He claims it’s decorative.”
“It’s haunted,” Zoey said matter-of-factly. “But only on Tuesdays.”
Lissa topped off Ella’s wine. “Welcome to the family, honey. We’re all a little crazy here, but we take care of our own.”
“I’m not—” Ella started to protest, but Zoey cut her off.
“Your aura says differently.”
And somehow, sitting in that warm room with these remarkable women, Ella couldn’t find it in herself to argue.
The morning fog clung to the mountainside as Tom followed his usual hiking trail, boots crunching on gravel and pine needles. He’d been coming up here more often lately, seeking clarity in the quiet of the wilderness. Not that it was helping much—his thoughts kept circling back to hazel eyes and a stubborn smile.
“Damn Scots,” he muttered, pushing himself faster up the incline.
He hadn’t asked for this. He’d come to Harmony Falls for peace, for a chance to build something stable after his time in service. The security business was doing well, his workshop gave him the quiet he needed, and he’d been content.
Then the MacGregors had to go and find Ella Kingsley.
A hawk circled overhead, its cry echoing across the valley. Tom paused at a lookout point, breathing hard from the climb. The town spread out below him, morning sun just starting to burn through the mist. From here, he could see the elementary school, the pub, the church, and the row of shops along Main Street. It all looked so peaceful, so normal.
Except nothing had felt normal since Ella arrived.
He pulled out his water bottle, remembering how she’d looked in the coffee shop yesterday, animated as she described the planetarium field trip. The way her eyes lit up when she talked about her students. The slight wrinkle in her brow when she was thinking hard about something.
“Stop it,” he ordered himself. But the images kept coming.
Ella catching his eye across a crowded hallway. Ella laughing at Jordan’s terrible science puns. Ella biting her lip as she concentrated on grading papers, a streak of red pen on her cheek...
A branch snapped somewhere behind him, pulling him instantly alert. But it was just a deer, regarding him with calm eyes before disappearing into the underbrush.
Tom let out a breath, forcing his muscles to relax. Even here, miles from civilization, his military training stayed with him. Just like the nightmares, the hypervigilance, the need to check exits and sight lines everywhere he went.
Ella had noticed—he’d seen it in her eyes when he scanned the classroom, the way she picked up on his tension without commenting on it. But instead of the usual pity or awkward questions, she’d just started leaving her classroom door open. A silent acknowledgment of his need to verify her safety while respecting his privacy.
“She’s not yours to protect,” he reminded himself. But the words rang hollow even in his own ears. The security cameras were working fine. The doors were locked. The grounds were secure. He didn’t need to keep going to the school. He knew all this, just as he knew he’d be back again to check the security system, fighting the urge to glance through that open doorway one more time.
The trail curved ahead, leading to his favorite outlook point. He’d found himself wondering lately if Ella would enjoy the view, if she’d appreciate the way the morning light painted the valley in shades of gold and green.
“And this,” he muttered, “is exactly what they wanted.”
The MacGregors had probably planned it all—making sure he was at the school when she needed help, engineering those “coincidental” meetings. Hell, they’d probably timed his security system installation to coincide with her arrival.
He should be angry about their manipulation. He was angry. But underneath that anger was something else, something that felt dangerously like gratitude.
Because without their meddling, he might never have met her. Never seen how she turned simple moments into something special, how she faced the brothers’ overwhelming interest with grace and humor, how she was building a life here piece by piece, day by day.
A life he was starting to wish he could be part of.
“You’re losing it, Dalton,” he told himself, but there was no heat in the words.
He reached the outlook point, where a fallen log served as a natural bench. The valley had fully emerged from the morning mist now, sunlight sparkling off the river that wound through town.
Tom sat, letting the peace of the mountain wash over him. Up here, he could almost convince himself that his growing feelings for Ella were just a temporary madness, that he could go back to his carefully ordered life if he tried hard enough.
Almost.
But he knew better. The MacGregors might have orchestrated their meeting, but they couldn’t orchestrate the way his heart rate picked up when she smiled. They couldn’t fake the ease he felt in her presence, or how for the first time in years, he was starting to imagine a future that wasn’t solitary.
“Doesn’t matter,” he said to the valley below. “She deserves better than someone who can’t even sleep through the night.”
A cool breeze carried the scent of pine and late summer flowers. Somewhere in the distance, a woodpecker tapped out its morning rhythm. The mountain offered no answers, but its silence was companionable.
Tom checked his watch. He had a security consultation in town in an hour, and he needed to shower first. Time to head back to reality.
Here’s the revised version incorporating the stargazing element:
As he started down the trail, a patch of wildflowers caught his eye—the same kind Ella kept on her desk. Without overthinking it, he snapped a photo with his phone.
He stared at the picture for a moment, debating. Before he could talk himself out of it, he tapped the share button and sent it to her with a quick message:
Saw these and thought your students might like to see them in their natural habitat.
That should’ve been the end of it. But his fingers lingered over the screen. His heart thumped hard as he typed out another message, almost on autopilot.
Also… maybe you’d like to see them in person? I know a great trail. We could go in the evening and watch the stars afterward. Say, Saturday?
The second the text sent, panic set in.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. I should’ve called. Or asked her in person. She’s going to think I’m an idiot. Or worse, she’s going to think this is weird.
His phone chimed, pulling him out of his spiral. Her reply popped up, and his heart stopped for a beat before he read it:
Thanks for the picture! It’s perfect for my students. And stargazing? That sounds incredible. I’d love to.
Relief washed over him, and a grin spread across his face. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as much of an idiot as he thought.