Falling Inn Love: A Pumpkins and Proposals Novel (The Harvest Ranch Romance Series Book 3)

by Amberlee Day

  “Hi.” Freddie smiled. He looked happy. “Don’t let me interrupt.”

  “Oh, you’re not,” she said, taking Freddie’s arm. “See you later, McGee.”

  McGee scratched his head, not laughing any more. “Prescott. I’ll be there tomorrow.”

  “Two o’clock,” Freddie said with enthusiasm, and he led her farther into the hall. His hand found hers on his arm, and his fingers caressed hers. She could have melted. “I didn’t realize you and McGee were such good friends.”

  “Not really. We’ve just known each other long time, or did when we were young. We know the same people, that kind of thing.”

  “That’s nice. I didn’t really have that growing up in New York. Anyone that I knew well at one time ... well, if they’re still around, I haven’t kept in touch.”

  “That’s sad.”

  “Maybe, but really, I was too busy trouncing everyone in soccer and getting the best grades to make many friends. Want to dance?”

  They’d reached the center of the hall, where couples and families by the dozen danced to the live band on the grandstand. The noise here was loud, but when Kate nodded a smile at Freddie, he led her into a simple swing dance. Nothing fancy, but the music and being with Freddie had her feeling footloose and giddy. She was laughing, twirling, stepping on his toes, but it didn’t lessen the looks he gave her, like she was his favorite person in the world. By the time the song ended and a slow one began, she rolled into his arms as if she’d been doing it all her life. They swayed together in silence for a while, their eyes occasionally meeting. Butterflies hummed through Kate. She had never even dreamt that romance could feel like this, this comfortable attraction and a man who accepted her and challenged her. A laugh bubbled up in her chest.

  “What?” he asked, though he chuckled too.

  “I don’t know. It just all seems so perfect. I mean, really, Freddie, what do you see in me?” She tried to communicate in the look she gave him that he must be nuts. “First of all, I’m sure I can’t hold a candle to the women you know in New York.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t sell yourself short.”

  The look he gave her actually made her think she might swoon. “No?”

  “No,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “You could hold your candle up with the best of them, Kate O’Halloran.”

  Kate had to hold him a little tighter, because her knees were definitely going weak. “I ... uh ... mm.” She searched around in her brain for an actual word, any word. She finally expelled, “Disaster.”

  His brow furrowed, but he still smiled at her. “What?”

  “I am a disaster. I tried to warn you, but since you’re still here I think you probably didn’t believe me.”

  “Why should I? I’m right where I want to be.”

  Air passed through Kate’s chest like a flock of butterflies had migrated past. Her eyes dropped briefly to his lips. “But really, if you were smart, you’d be running away right now. With my track record, it’s the safe thing to do. People don’t ask disaster magnets or relationship poison to dance, not knowingly so.”

  “Because of the curse?”

  Kate gave him a sidelong look. “How do you know about the curse?”

  But the answer came so quickly she said it with him: “Dora.”

  “She explained it,” he said, “but I still don’t understand. Bad relationships skip generations in your family, something like that?”

  “They do.” Kate nodded quickly, wanting him to understand. “At least for the last five generations of O’Hallorans.”

  “Five? Whew. That’s a lot of generations.”

  “It’s true. There was Grandma O’Halloran, who married into the family despite warnings. Sure enough, Grandpa left her.”

  “Another woman?”

  “No, it was cows, really. His herd wandered off, and he went to find them. Didn’t come back for eight years. By then, Grandma had written him off.”

  “She found another man?”

  Kate wrinkled her nose at him. “There are things other than infidelity that break up a relationship, you know. No, by the time he came back, she’d become a New England Patriots fan. Grandpa couldn’t take it.”

  Freddie laughed, but he stopped when she gave him a hard look. “Sorry.”

  “Grandpa’s siblings had similar stories.”

  “That’s ... hard to imagine.”

  “Not exact, but disaster still happened. And then there were Grandpa’s grandparents.”

  “Because it skips a generation.”

  “Yes. I can see you don’t believe me, but it’s true. If they were still alive, they’d tell you about how every house they bought—three in all—were haunted. The only way they could keep the spirits at bay ...” Kate stopped, thinking about that one.

  “What did they do?”

  Kate bit her lip. “Don’t laugh. I haven’t thought about this much in a long time, and saying it out loud now does sound a little suspicious.”

  “I won’t laugh, if I can help it.”

  “Well, the only way they could keep the spirits at bay was if Great-Great-Grandpa O’Halloran was allowed to smoke his cigars in the house—”

  “Uh-oh. I think I can see where this is going.” Freddie’s chest shook under her hand. She’d told him not to laugh, but she started to giggle too.

  “You probably can’t. Grandpa had to smoke his cigars in the house, and Great-Great-Grandma O’Halloran had to let in the stray cats she loved to feed, and if they didn’t, the spirits slammed doors and moaned and all kinds of things ... Okay, okay, I see what you’re thinking: they were probably doing it themselves to get what they wanted.”

  Freddie was full-on laughing now, but so was Kate. She snuggled deeper into his arms. He whispered in her ear, giving her goose bumps. “Self-fulfilling prophesy, maybe?”

  “Maybe.”

  The music played on, and she made a memory of the way his arms felt around her, and his scent. She had enjoyed it before but not named it. Definitely a woodsy-citrus scent. No wonder he fit in her world at the Cornucopia so well.

  Freddie nuzzled her hair, his breath tickling her scalp and sending fresh shivers through her body. “Maybe you can make that self-fulfilling prophesy work to your advantage, break the curse.”

  “Maybe,” she said, hopeful. “Perhaps if I work very hard, I can make the Cornucopia the best part of Harvest Ranch, be named Businesswoman of the Year by the city council, and become so wildly successful that the force of my accomplishments will banish away all my curses—relationship and professional-wise.”

  “If anyone can do it, Kate O’Halloran, it’s you. I’ve only known you a week and seen you do some amazing things.”

  Warmth rose up in her chest. If anyone else had said those words, she wouldn’t have believed them. Somehow with Freddie, she did, and her heart floated knowing he believed in her so much. “Thank you, Freddie. That means a lot.”

  She could have danced with him forever, reveling in that heavenly spot in his arms, if it wasn’t for a sudden insistent tug on her sleeve. She turned to find Vernon standing there in the festive dance lights, looking like an alien species who had wandered in from his spaceship. The disco ball lights above, flickering on his white shirt and sweater vest, didn’t help.

  “Vernon?”

  “Sorry to interrupt, but a toilet’s flooded over in cabin twelve and you’re needed at the inn for when the plumber gets there.”

  “Oh.” As disappointed as she felt, she really had had to do very little as temporary manager, and she really should be there. Plumbing and possibly displaced guests were a big deal. Her eyes flicked to Freddie’s, but she couldn’t read them. “I’ll be right there, Vernon.”

  “It’s Virgil.”

  She looked at the sweater vest and realized she couldn’t tell the color in this lighting. “Sorry, Virgil.”

  When he left, she offered Freddie a look of apology. He shook his head. “Duty first, I get it. If you’re going to save that inn of yours,
you’d better go.”

  Save it? “You know about that?”

  He nodded, and they said together, “Dora.”

  “Of course. You should stay, though, enjoy the dance.”

  His eyes twinkled. “I won’t enjoy it without you, but I do need to stay. I have to talk to Gloria Dudley about Brenda Lee’s events tomorrow, and then I need to get some work done before she comes. But this was ... nice.”

  “Very.” She didn’t want to leave, but the inn needed her, and as if to help her out the door, the song ended just then. She let go of Freddie’s hand and took a step back. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  The warm promise in his eyes flowed through her like a wave. “You can count on it.”

  She walked away backward until she stepped on someone—unfortunately old Harold from the grocery store, who gave her a nasty look. Apologizing, she made a whoops face at Freddie, who laughed at her. She waved and turned away, leaving Freddie and the dance behind. Only two more days with Freddie in town. What else could she count on in that time? It set her toes tingling and her feet in yet another prance just thinking about it.

  Chapter 15

  Once again, an incoming call woke up Freddie, followed quickly by Pumpkin, who had slept close enough to share Freddie’s pillow. Freddie reached for the phone, wiping labradoodle drool from his face with the other hand. “Hello?”

  “It’s Brenda. My plane’s about to leave, and I saw what the Celebrity Tattler is saying about me online. Freddie, have you seen it?”

  Freddie pulled the phone from his face and thumbed in the letters to look up the obnoxious online tabloid. Instantly, news stories popped up, none more than an hour old, with headlines touting a unifying theme: Celebrity author’s lost week in Vegas, gambling addict husband. Next to them were pictures of Brenda Lee and Lester, not looking their best.

  “What ...? What happened?” Freddie asked, stunned.

  “You tell me. You’re my agent.” She was mad, and he already felt the blame swiveling toward him.

  “Honestly, Brenda Lee, I have no idea. We’ve been scrupulous here to make sure no one knew your whereabouts. From everything on social media, no one could guess you were anywhere but Harvest Ranch—including fans posting pictures and tagging you in them.”

  “You might want to consider that the problem here can be found in the pronoun we.” Icicles hung from her words, and Freddie felt the chill.

  He left the bedroom and walked to the front window. It was still dark outside, and the lights from the Cornucopia lobby shone bright. Kate? She was the only one who knew, unless the other staff guessed. But Kate wouldn’t have said anything. She didn’t have anything to gain from the story getting out, and besides ... The memory of Kate in his arms, the sweetness of her kisses, rose up, lulling his fears. No, Kate couldn’t have done this.

  Brenda Lee’s sharp voice shook the memory loose. “Whoever did sell that story knew how to get it on the newswire, and they made some money off of it, you can bet on that. You’d better figure out ... Wait a minute.” The line went quiet for all of three seconds. “I just got an email. Looks like a reporter is meeting me at the Virginia airport when I land.”

  Reporter? Freddie suddenly remembered finding Kate at the dance last night talking to that reporter, McGee. When he’d asked what they were laughing about, she’d quickly changed the subject. Could it be there was something there? A knot seized his stomach, and his jaw clenched. He could already hear what his father would say about all this.

  Brenda continued, “This is going to be a nightmare to my image, to the brand. It’s a disaster. Freddie, you said you had things under control. You’d better fix this, preferably before I get there—yes, miss flight attendant, I am turning off my phone,” she said, her voice briefly farther away.

  “I hope you aren’t wearing one of your wigs and getups right now,” he said automatically, hoping no one on the plane would witness Brenda Lee Mitford having a meltdown and bring rude to the flight staff.

  “As you’re well aware, I have none of that with me. I have to go. Fix this, Freddie. And bring Pumpkin when you come to the airport. I miss my baby.”

  She ended the call, and Freddie leaned on the windowsill, suspicion bubbling low in his gut. At the moment, he couldn’t see another way this information could get out. He’d find the leak. But if it was Kate—grief mixed in with that anger like a bad chemistry experience—then she had a lot to answer to.

  ***

  Kate woke up early, wanting to go over some paperwork for the inn before hopefully running into Freddie. She was just coming out of the office when she spotted him heading around the side of the building with Pumpkin. That giddy feeling bubbled up in her. Maybe she could get a minute with him before he had to get to work with the real Brenda Lee.

  First checking her reflection in the banana-shaped mirror she’d deemed worthy of keeping, she hurried through the revolving doors to cut him off in front of the inn.

  Her timing was perfect. She exited the doors just as he passed. Her happiness poured out of her smile, but she didn’t mind if he saw. The way things had been between them, he knew how she felt about him. “Good morning, stranger!”

  As soon as Freddie’s eyes met hers, though, she could see something was wrong. She almost tripped from slowing down too fast. “Freddie? What is it?”

  He took a deep breath before answering, looking away from her down the street. Worry tightened her chest as she scrambled to think what could have happened since last night. “Did you tell McGee about Brenda Lee?”

  Kate drew back like he’d thrown cold water in her face. His tone chilled her even more than his words. “What? Why would I do that?”

  “I don’t know, Kate, but word’s gotten out, and only one person knew where she was, or why.”

  “If McGee knows, it wasn’t from me,” she said, shaking her head slowly. How could he think she’d have said something?

  He shrugged, his hands thrown up in frustration. “I don’t know for sure that McGee knows, but I can’t imagine that he doesn’t, since the story’s hit the national news.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and in a flash showed her the headline. Under it was an unflattering picture of Brenda Lee and a disheveled man who must have been her husband.

  “How could that have happened?”

  “You tell me, Kate. You’re the only one I trusted to know the truth, and I only told you after ...”

  What he didn’t say she could read in his look. After they’d snuggled and kissed, after they’d opened up their hearts to each other. She could see it in his eyes, the anger, hurt, mistrust, and it pierced her heart. “You really think I did this.”

  “I don’t know what else to think, Kate. I really don’t. There just isn’t another explanation.”

  Hopes dashed on his words like waves breaking on rocks. She’d thought this time would be different, but she’d ruined it. Or at least Freddie thought she did, which was somehow worse. “I don’t know what to say, Freddie. I didn’t do it, didn’t tell a soul, but I would have hoped you’d already know that.”

  “I thought I did. And honestly, I can’t see what you’d get out of it, since you were already getting publicity for this ... inn.” He waved his hand in disgust at her beloved Cornucopia, and her own sadness deepened. “But it’s probably not all your fault. Maybe trusting someone I’ve known a week wasn’t my best decision.”

  And he left. She watched, speechless, while he walked down the sidewalk and toward the inn’s rear parking lot, probably to his car. There wasn’t anything else for her to say, not if he really believed what he said he did. All she could do was watch and feel her heart breaking, a pain she’d never realized could be so bad until it hit her with a great cracking anguish.

  So this was what love was, and this was what it felt like to lose it.

  ***

  Too anxious to stay away, Freddie arrived at the airport two hours before Brenda Lee’s flight got in. By the time she emerged from the building, he’d read
everything posted on the internet about her and Lester’s infamous week in Vegas, as well as contacted some sources in the press. No one had information on who leaked the story.

  Brenda Lee bustled over to the car in her brisk, no-nonsense way, and it surprised him. For a moment he forgot about the scandal and breach of trust, and he remembered that the slow sashay he’d begun to associate with the Brenda Lee Mitford persona didn’t come from the source, but from Kate. Like a knife to the chest, he suddenly missed her.

  “Well, this is a nightmare,” Brenda Lee said without any other greeting as she slammed the car door shut behind her. While irritated, she didn’t look like a lioness ready to attack her dinner—Freddie—which was what he’d expected her to be. Not only that, she definitely wasn’t making eye contact with him. Clearly, something new had happened.

  “Brenda Lee, I’ve tried every avenue I can think of, and I can’t pin down where the leak came from. I have my theories, but no proof.”

  “Well, you can put your theories in your hat and leave them there, because I’ve done the work and figured it out.”

  From behind where he’d pulled over in the pickup lane, someone honked for Freddie to drive. He didn’t move, though, too focused on Brenda Lee. “What do you mean? Who sold the story?”

  She fiddled with her purse as if organizing whatever she was moving around in there was more important than the conversation they were having. She still wouldn’t meet his eye. “Well, it’s done, and there’s nothing we can do about it now but try to take control of the situation. I was thinking—”

  The horn honked again. “Brenda, who leaked the story?”

  “I don’t know why you’re harping on it now. Your job is to fix it, wherever we think it might have come from. We need to talk strategy, is what we need. Not play the blame game.”

  The horn honked again from the car behind them, and this time Pumpkin popped up from where she’d been sleeping in the back seat, half-jumped to the front, and landed with both paws on the middle of the steering wheel.