She bowed toward them. “Wait till you see my partner.”

Denny walked out of the house behind her—the perfect scarecrow. He wore bib overalls over a plaid flannel shirt, a straw hat, and someone—probably Jillian—had put red lips on his handsome mouth and two round spots of rouge on his cheeks. He even had straw sticking out of his sleeves and pantlegs. Kelly beamed. “You are magnificent,” she said. And no sooner were the words out of her mouth than people started coming around to the back of the house from the front drive. Whole families arrived with kids racing to the pumpkin patch.

“I hope this isn’t the shortest party in history. We’re going to run out of pumpkins in no time,” Jill said. “We’ve only got about a hundred.” And with that, she took off for the west end of the garden at a trot, cackling the whole way.

There was no way Kelly could have prepared herself for the way the town took over the afternoon. The party had barely started when three men who she would later learn were Buck Anderson and two of his sons came around the corner of the house leading ponies that they’d transported for rides for children. Dr. Michaels brought a big tub, and right behind him was his wife, Abby, with a big bag of apples for dunking and a set of twins scampering to keep up. Someone brought a mini-trampoline, obviously from their own backyard, and before she knew it the property was full of people. She was handing out muffins, slices of pie, cups of bisque and pumpkin bread like mad, so grateful she had a large backup supply in the kitchen.

All over the property there were clumps of friends and neighbors visiting, laughing, holding plates of burgers or dogs or muffins from Kelly’s supply. Kids were quickly picking out pumpkins from the patch, running them out to the truck or car so they could come back to the party.

It was still very early in the afternoon when a ghoul came around the corner carrying a large tray covered with caramel apples. Behind the ghoul was a man carrying a second tray, this one covered with red candied apples.

“Laura!” Kelly said when they got closer. Her new friend from the farmers’ market arrived with goodies. “What is this?”

“I never go to a party empty-handed. Caramel with chopped walnuts, candied apples with chopped cranberry—for your friends.”

“You’re wonderful! But you’re not selling jelly today?”

“I like lots of different things. And I love Halloween!”

“I think all these people do,” Kelly said, looking around and noting that while most people wore their jeans and boots, many were costumed. And bless the nice Virgin River folks who made it a party by bringing games and ponies. Balls and catcher’s mitts appeared, lawn chairs came from the backs of pickups, little circles of friends settled in for an enjoyable afternoon. Preacher and Jack flipped and turned their burgers and dogs, served up soft drinks or beer, and joked with old friends. They seemed like simple, unpretentious, regular folks who liked each other and knew how to enjoy a fall afternoon together. What a concept.

Since coming here Kelly had learned what she didn’t want out of life. All the fame and money she’d always thought would be the reward for hanging in there and winning the competition for the head chef slot meant nothing, not when you couldn’t sleep at night and had to have an EKG to make sure you weren’t dying.

But then when she stood behind her refreshment table for a couple of hours and witnessed the easy camaraderie, relaxed pace and happiness of these people, it filled her with possibilities.

She would like to live in a place like this for the rest of her life.

It was after two before she spied Lief and the girls. Kelly instantly recalled seeing Courtney when she’d visited Virgin River last summer—she was unforgettable with her multicolored hair. In fact, if Kelly hadn’t known better, she’d think the girl had dressed up for Halloween. But the one thing that really affected her was how thin Courtney was. Kelly wanted to feed her.

Kelly had always been very ambivalent about having children; it was never a deep need within her. She always assumed that if she one day married a man who wanted children, she might be talked into one, but only if it didn’t pull her out of the kitchen for too long. She didn’t think she had any maternal instincts at all. And yet as she looked at Courtney, she felt the oddest urge to embrace her, to get her a decent haircut so she’d look like other girls her age, to plump her up so she appeared healthier.

The young teen with her, Amber, was rosy-cheeked and a bit fleshier. They were an odd couple, Kelly thought. What makes a teenager go to such extremes as Courtney had? Was it for attention? If so, how much more attention could Lief give her? And if Lief and Kelly actually did end up in a relationship, how in the world would she handle someone like Courtney?

“I’d better start tasting,” Lief said to her as he looked away from the girls and approached. “I can’t imagine all this is possible with a couple of average-sized pumpkins!”

“You’re going to be very impressed. Let’s start here,” she said, ladling some of the thick cream soup into a paper cup and garnishing it with a parsley sprig. “You know how long a pumpkin stays fresh? Forever, that’s how long. My great-grandmother used to leave a couple on the vine as long as possible, at least until there was a danger of frost damage. Then she’d put them in the cool, dark cellar…”

“Let me guess. This isn’t pie filling out of a can?”

“I beg your pardon. I rarely ever open a can! I steamed and pureed.”

He smiled, swirled it to study the texture, then took a little sip. His eyes grew round. “This is amazing!”

“That soup is not pumpkin pie in a bowl, sir,” she said.

“It is not,” he agreed, finishing his small cup. “Kelly, you have such a gift.”

“I do, don’t I?” When he pitched the paper cup in the large trash can beside her table, she said, “Now the pie. I don’t very often try to improve on my grandmother’s recipes, but I did have a pumpkin pie I liked better than hers. That sort of thing rarely happened,” she said, wedging him out a very thin slice.

“Come on,” he complained.

“Lots of people here today, Mr. Holbrook,” she said, giving him the slice.

He took a bite with the plastic fork. Again he made an ecstatic sound, and his eyes rolled back in his head. “That’s no ordinary pumpkin pie!”

“It’s more of a pumpkin cheesecake.”

“Please, please, please marry me!”

She laughed. “We’ll have to get permission from your little goblin,” Kelly said.

“We better hurry while she’s still sucking up for a puppy,” he said between bites.

“I want to stuff her with muffins,” Kelly said.

“Rest easy,” Lief said. “Her mother was very slight. I think Courtney is going to be a late bloomer, height-wise.”

“Is she a picky eater?”

“Pretty much,” he said, biting into a muffin and then moaning in ecstasy. After he swallowed, he said, “Fourteen. Picky everything.”

And just then the teens were beside Lief. “Courtney and Amber, this is my friend Kelly.”

“So, you’re the girlfriend,” Courtney said.

Kelly lifted one blond brow along with one corner of her mouth. “Not really. I haven’t accepted that position yet, and who knows, I might not.”

“Aw,” Lief said under his breath.

“Here, have a muffin,” she said, holding a plate out to the girls.

“What’s in ’em?” Courtney asked.

“What do you like?”

“Pork chops, potatoes and gravy.”

“What a coincidence!” Kelly said. “You’re going to love them!”

“I think I’ll pass,” she said, hands going behind her back.

Amber plucked one right off the plate and took an immediate bite. “Mmm,” she said. “Very good. Thank you.”

“You’re so welcome. Want to try some pie?” Kelly asked Amber.

“Yes, please.” And to the pie, Amber also said, “Mmm.”

“I’m getting a hot dog,” Courtney said, turning from them to patronize Preacher’s barbecue instead.

Kelly had the brief thought that if Courtney decided to dunk for apples, she might hold her head under water. Just for a while. Then she cringed to think she could match the kid for meanness.

Amber finished her pie and pitched the paper plate in the trash. “Thank you,” she said. “Nice meeting you.”

“And nice meeting you, Amber,” Kelly said. And when they were both out of earshot, Kelly turned to Lief. “That went well.”

He just laughed and shook his head.

“Was that Courtney finding me tolerable?”

He chuckled some more.

“What are you grinning about? That was borderline rude!”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Nothing can put me in a bad mood today. Courtney is spending the night at Amber’s so she can bond with her puppy. She’ll probably sleep on the mudroom floor next to the litter box, but I don’t care. I’m going to take them out to the farm, drop them off and come back here. And stay very, very late. Like a grown-up.”

“Oh,” she said with a smile and tilt of her head. “I see.”

Kelly had thought they’d surely run out of pumpkins, but there were even a few left behind. Many of the families who came had their own pumpkin patches, but didn’t want to miss a party. Everyone took away their stuff, from barbecues to ponies, as the sun was setting. Kelly cleaned up her kitchen with Lief’s help, Jillian changed out of her kinky witch’s garb, Denny changed clothes and headed out for a date, and Colin made sure all the trash was in the back of Preacher’s truck to be taken to the Dumpster in town. Keeping garbage away from the bears was a matter of importance.

When the fall weather had started to cool and the leaves had begun to change, Colin had bought a small portable fire pit with a dome-shaped screen top. It wasn’t exactly big enough to keep people warm, but the ambiance was nice. He set it up for Lief and Kelly, but, pleading exhaustion, he and Jillian headed for the second floor. “If you want to stay outside, light the Duraflame I put in there. I’m shot. I’m going in,” Colin said.

“Going to bed?” Kelly asked.

“I’m probably going to the sunroom to put on the TV where I’ll fall asleep in fifteen minutes…”

“And then I can wake him and steer him to bed,” Jill said.

“I like the idea of a fire,” Kelly said. “Lief?”

“Let’s do it,” he said, setting the Duraflame alite.

They brought a couple of chairs off the porch into the yard, placed them very close to each other and snuggled up in front of the fire.

And talked.

The conversation began with Kelly saying, “I’m kind of alarmed by how awful I was with your daughter. Not to her, with her. I have no idea how to communicate with a fourteen-year-old.”

“Don’t overthink it—she was rude. She’s often rude, and while there might be a million logical reasons, she pisses me off all the time. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“But how do you deal with it?”

“Many ways. Sometimes I get angry. Sometimes I’m very logical and enforce the consequences. Today, while we were in the car, I merely mentioned to her that I noticed and it didn’t make me feel very good. And God bless Amber, who piped up and said, ‘Really, Court, you could be nicer.’ I also have her talking to that counselor, taking riding lessons, spending time at the Hawkins farm where, apparently, she’s charming, and—believe it or not—we’re actually making progress.”

“Oh?”

“Seriously. She’s brought her grades up a little. A puppy and riding lessons depend on it. Plus, in helping Amber with her math, they’ve been working on homework together. It might be hard for you to imagine, but Courtney is very intelligent. Up until her mother died, she was always in accelerated programs. And every day wasn’t Halloween.”