Chapter 16
CHAPTER 16
E lla surveyed the park as twilight settled over Harmony Falls. Blankets and lawn chairs dotted the grass, families settling in with popcorn and drinks from the concession stands. The massive screen stood ready, and the new “Wizard of Oz” waited in the digital projector. Everything was perfect.
Which probably meant something was about to go wrong.
“Stop looking for disasters,” Tom appeared beside her, making her jump. “You’ve thought of everything.”
“Easy for you to say.” But she smiled, taking in his casual clothes—jeans and a dark sweater that made him look unfairly attractive. “Those coolers you brought saved us when the ice delivery was late.”
“Just doing my job.”
“Pretty sure ice delivery isn’t in your security contract.”
His lips twitched. “Maybe I added a clause.”
Before she could respond, Piper bounced up, face painted like a rainbow. “Ms. Kingsley! Mom wants to know if we can sit in the front row?”
“Of course.” Ella knelt to her student’s level. “Just remember?—”
“Stay behind the marker line so everyone can see. I know!” She darted off, pigtails flying.
When Ella straightened, she caught Tom watching her with an expression that made her heart flutter. Then Principal Hastings approached to discuss something, and when Ella looked back, Tom was deep in conversation with a pretty woman she didn’t recognize.
“Probably another teacher,” she muttered, squashing the ripple of uncertainty.
“What’s that, lass?” Gareth materialized next to her, Liam and Aiden in tow.
“Nothing. Everything’s fine. Perfect. Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Because the projector’s smoking,” Liam said cheerfully.
Ella whirled. Sure enough, thin wisps rose from the expensive equipment. “No, no, no...”
She reached it just as the bulb gave out with a sad little pop. The gathering crowd murmured.
“I have a spare,” she said, trying to sound calmer than she felt. “In my car. Which is?—”
“Three blocks away because of event parking,” Tom finished, suddenly beside her again. He pulled out his phone. “I’ve got my truck nearby. Give me your keys.”
“I can?—”
“Ella.” His voice gentled. “Let me help.”
She handed over her keys, then turned to find the MacGregor brothers already working on the projector.
“Bit of electrical trouble?” Gareth asked innocently.
“Don’t even think about hitting it with a hammer.”
“Would I do that?”
“Yes,” everyone within earshot said.
Aiden was already examining the connections while Liam regaled the nearest children with an impromptu story about Scottish movie nights in the old days, complete with dramatic gestures that had them giggling.
Tom returned in record time with the spare bulb. Working together, they had the projector running again in minutes.
“Quite a team,” Lissa observed from nearby, rubbing her pregnant belly.
Ella chose to ignore both her knowing smile and the warmth that spread through her chest at the word ‘team.’
The movie started as the last light faded from the sky. Ella moved through the crowd, checking on volunteers and answering questions. She spotted Tom doing the same on the perimeter, his watchful presence reassuring.
Their paths crossed near the concession stand. “Everything secure?” she asked.
“All good.” He handed her a cup of hot chocolate she hadn’t asked for but desperately needed. “Though Liam’s trying to convince kids that Dorothy originally wore a kilt.”
She laughed, then caught herself when she saw the pretty woman from earlier watching them. Tom followed her gaze and frowned slightly.
“I should check the south entrance,” he said, his tone cooling noticeably.
Ella watched him go, that familiar confusion settling in. One minute he was bringing her perfect hot chocolate, the next he was distant and professional. She couldn’t read him at all.
“He’s not very good at this,” Zoey said, appearing beside her with uncanny timing.
“Good at what?”
“Letting himself care about someone.” Zoey’s eyes held that otherworldly knowledge that still unnerved Ella sometimes. “His aura’s all tangled up—wanting to get closer but afraid of what that means.”
“I’m not sure I’m any better at it,” Ella admitted.
“Maybe that’s why you fit.”
Before Ella could respond, a delighted gasp went up from the crowd as Dorothy’s house landed in Oz, the screen’s colors painting the audience in rainbow hues. Ella looked out over the scene—families sharing blankets and popcorn, children watching with wide eyes, the whole town coming together under the stars.
She felt Tom’s presence before she saw him, back at his post near the equipment. Their eyes met across the crowd, and for a moment, everything else fell away.
Then someone called his name, and the moment broke. But something lingered—a warmth, a possibility, a question neither of them quite knew how to ask.
The movie played on, its message about finding home in unexpected places washing over the gathered community. Ella touched her pendant absently, thinking about belonging and trust and the courage to try again.
Maybe Zoey was right. Maybe they were both a little tangled up, a little uncertain. But watching Tom solve problems before they arose, seeing how he anticipated needs she hadn’t even voiced yet...
It made her wonder if some tangles were worth unraveling.
Even if she still couldn’t quite read his signals. Even if part of her worried she was setting herself up for heartbreak. Even if the MacGregors were watching them both with entirely too much interest from their family blanket near the screen.
For now, she had a successful event, a community coming together, and hot chocolate that was exactly how she liked it, though she’d never told Tom her preference.
Sometimes, she was learning, that had to be enough.
Relief flooded through Ella as she helped stack the last of the chairs. The Movie in the Park had been a success—no disasters, no major crises, just a community coming together under the stars. Even the MacGregors’ impromptu Highland dancing demonstration during intermission had somehow added to the charm rather than causing chaos.
“You did good.” Tom appeared beside her, taking the chairs effortlessly. “The kids loved it.”
“We did good,” she corrected. “I couldn’t have managed without your help.”
Something soft passed through his eyes before he looked away. “Coffee? To celebrate?”
She hesitated. It had been a long day, and she should probably head home. But the thought of ending the evening now, with this warm feeling of accomplishment still buzzing under her skin...
“Sure,” she found herself saying. “Why not?”
The Harvest Moon Café was nearly empty, just Vivian wiping down counters and humming along to the radio. She brightened when they walked in.
“I was hoping you two would stop by!” She started the coffee maker without being asked. “I need to head out early—my sister’s having one of her episodes. Would you mind...?” She held up the keys hopefully.
Ella bit back a laugh as Tom accepted them with a serious nod. This would never have happened in her old life in Ohio.
“Just lock up when you’re done,” Vivian called over her shoulder. “And try not to break anything!”
“Does everyone in town trust you with their keys?” Ella asked as they settled into a corner booth.
“Only the ones who know I’ll check their security systems for free.”
The coffee was perfect—rich and hot, exactly what she needed after hours of outdoor organizing. Through the windows, she could see storm clouds gathering, but in here everything was warm and cozy.
“Looks like we wrapped up just in time,” she nodded toward the darkening sky.
Tom’s shoulders tensed slightly. “Yeah.”
Something in his tone made her look closer. “You okay?”
He was quiet for a long moment, turning his coffee cup in steady circles. “Storms are... complicated. For me.”
“Because of your service?”
He nodded. “Had a bad mission during monsoon season. Lost some good people.” His voice dropped. “Should have seen the signs earlier, gotten them out faster.”
“Tom.” She reached across the table without thinking, covering his hand with hers. “You can’t carry that forever.”
“Says the woman who still wears her wedding ring.”
She pulled back, touching the ring on its chain next to her pendant. “That’s different.”
“Is it?” His eyes met hers. “We both lost people. Both blame ourselves for things we couldn’t control.”
The first rumble of thunder made him flinch, so slightly she almost missed it.
“Jacob loved storms,” she found herself saying. “He’d drag me onto the porch to watch them roll in. Said they reminded him that nature was bigger than our plans.” She smiled sadly. “I used to tease him about being dramatic.”
“Sounds like you were happy.”
“We were. Which makes it harder sometimes, you know? The guilt of wanting to be happy again.”
Lightning flickered outside, illuminating Tom’s face. In that brief flash, she saw understanding in his eyes.
“My team,” he said slowly, “they used to play cards during downtime. Stupid games, betting with MRE desserts. Parker always cheated, but we let him because he’d share his winnings with the newer guys.” He swallowed hard. “Sometimes I catch myself playing solitaire their way, and it hits me all over again.”
Another thunderclap, closer now. Tom’s knuckles went white around his coffee cup.
Without thinking about it too hard, Ella started talking about her third graders’ latest art project—the colors they chose, the stories they told, the simple joy they found in creating. She kept her voice steady and warm, giving him something else to focus on as the storm grew closer.
Gradually, his grip on the cup loosened. By the time she finished describing Quentin Watson’s elaborate robot drawing, he was almost smiling.
“You’re good at that,” he said quietly.
“At what?”
“Knowing what people need. Making them feel good.”
The words hung between them, heavy with meaning. Outside, the storm raged, but in here... in here they were creating something new. Something that felt like hope.
“Well,” she said finally, “someone once told me that sometimes the biggest risk isn’t in acting—it’s in waiting too long to try.”
His eyes widened slightly, recognizing Gareth’s words from weeks ago. Then he did smile, small but real.
“Smart someone.”
“Don’t tell him that. His ego’s big enough.”
Their laughter mingled with the rain, and Ella felt something shift, settle. They were both a little broken, a little scared. But maybe that’s what made this feel possible.
Maybe that’s what made it feel real.