Harvest Moon (Virgin River #15)(40)

Kelly set up her refreshment table outside, right at the base of the back porch. She had a big pot of pumpkin bisque, muffins, pumpkin pie and pumpkin bread. Right inside the kitchen there was more of everything. There were plenty of paper plates and small cups for the bisque. Jack and Preacher brought their portable barbecues and big tubs of beer and soda as they did for every town gathering. They put up a table of buns, condiments, chips, cups, plates and napkins along with a big glass jar for donations. They were very civic-minded but had a business to run and families to support.

Noon was the opening hour on a bright and sunny late-October day, and cars were pulling up the drive and honking their horns at 11:45 a.m. Kelly, who had staked out her goody stand and was ready for business, yelled into the house. “They’re starting to arrive!”

Within a minute, Jillian jumped through the back door onto the porch. “Heh! Heh, heh, heh, heh, heh!” she cackled.

Kelly looked at her in shock. And then she burst into laughter.

Jill wore a black, long-sleeved shirt, a short black skirt that stuck out like a bell, red-and-white striped stockings, ankle boots and a witch’s hat. Her hair was done in braids that sprung out away from her head, thanks to pipe cleaners woven in. She carried an old-fashioned broom, and when she smiled she revealed blacking on one of her front teeth.

Right behind her came Colin, dressed as a modern hunk. As in no costume at all. He crossed his arms over his chest, looked Jill up and down and chuckled, his eyes sparkling. It was very clear that she could thrill and surprise him. No matter what personality Jillian presented, he obviously thought she was adorable.

“You didn’t mention you were coming in costume today,” Kelly said.

“I wanted it to be a surprise!”

Jack and Preacher had their coals hot but were holding off on the dogs and burgers until they had customers. “Best-looking witch I’ve seen all day!” Jack yelled.

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.