Read When Harriet Came Home for Free Online Page B

for.” Ken smiled at them when they entered the ward.
    Adam waited until Harriet was seated before taking a chair on the opposite side of Ken’s bed and enquiring about Ken’s injuries. He couldn’t help being reminded of his own father and his car accident which, unlike Ken’s, had proved to be fatal. It had happened nine years ago, and the initial raw anguish had faded to a dull throb, but still he could never forget.
    He watched Harriet neaten her father’s sheets and pour him a beaker of water, and the dull throb flared into a stabbing pain. He hadn’t been lucky enough to fuss around his dad’s bed. The police had knocked on his door and broken the news to him. They’d taken him to the morgue to identify the body. Even now he could remember the foulness in his mouth after he’d lost control and retched out his breakfast. He’d spent years speculating if his father had crashed his car on purpose, and had often wondered if there was anything he could have done, if he was to blame. He knew he wasn’t. If anyone was, she was.
    “Adam?”
    He jolted back, realizing he’d been staring at Harriet with burning eyes. He blinked and turned his attention back to Ken. “I’m sorry. I didn’t quite catch that.”
    “I’m talking about the Harvest Ball,” Ken said, his eyes over-bright. “I’ve come up with a solution.”
    “Oh?”
    Ken tugged on Harriet’s hand. “Harriet can fill in for me.”
    Adam glowered at Harriet across the bed as memories of his dead father sliced through his brain.
    “No.” His whole body seemed to spew the word out.
    Harriet wrinkled her brow in puzzlement. “Fill in for you?”
    “I’m supposed to be doing the catering for the Harvest Ball, but I’m in no condition to do that now.” Ken tapped his knuckles against the plaster cast wrapped around his leg. “I don’t want to let Adam down, especially at such late notice, so I thought perhaps you could help him.”
    Harriet’s face filled with horror. Her mouth opened, but she appeared to have trouble speaking, “I’m not sure that I can—”
    “There’s no need for that,” Adam cut in, surprised at the harshness in his own voice. “I’ll make alternative arrangements.”
    “But how will you do that?” Ken leaned forward. “There’s no one else in Wilmot available.”
    Besides The Tuckerbox, Wilmot had two other restaurants—The Golden Palace, which would be shut on the night of the Harvest Ball because the owners’ daughter was getting married, and Hillbillies, which had closed for renovations.
    “I’ll find someone from Scone.” Adam kept his eyes fixed on Ken though he was all too conscious of Harriet sitting very still on the other side of the bed, gripping her fingers together.
    “Scone.” Ken massaged his chin. “Hmm. Out-of-towners.”
    “Hardly. It’s only thirty minutes up the highway.”
    “But you’ve got the whole of Wilmot backing this Harvest Ball.” Ken turned to Harriet. “This ball is going to be a real community affair. The food and wine’s coming from local growers, the local businesses are sponsors, the band’s from Wilmot. Even the ushers and waiters are from your old school.” He looked back at Adam. “It would be a real pity—and a lost opportunity—not to have a Wilmot local do the catering.”
    “You make a good point but it can’t be helped,” Adam said.
    “But Harriet runs her own catering company, and she’s right here!” Ken gestured toward his daughter.
    Reluctantly Adam shifted his gaze to Harriet. “You run a catering company?”
    She gave him a tight little nod.
    “She’s a great cook,” Ken broke in eagerly. “She’s worked in restaurants and hotels all over the country and the world. London, Singapore, Melbourne, Auckland…”
    Harriet nudged her father. “Dad, please. You’re embarrassing me and Adam. If he’s the one organising this Harvest Ball, then he makes the final decision. It’s up to him to decide about the catering.”
    “I’m