Page 1 of Dreaming of Dawson

Chapter One

Macy

“Okay… let’s make the most of the next two hours before Rory wakes up again.”

Peony comes from the back of her farmhouse and over to the kitchen table, where we’ve both been working all morning. That is, when Rory’s allowed us. He’s five months old and absolutely adorable, although I think Peony would find him a little more adorable if he’d sleep and let us get on with working.

“You think he’ll give us two hours?” I say, smiling at her as she fetches us both a coffee from her lovely, modern kitchen. Its sleek pale gray lines ought to look out of place in such a beautiful old farmhouse, but they don’t. The design fits perfectly, as does Peony, with her long, slightly wild blond hair, and skin-tight jeans, an over-sized blue sweater on top, and fluffy socks adorning her feet. She’s very much at home here, and she smiles back, bringing the cups and sitting with me at the table beyond the island unit.

“I know he didn’t yesterday,” she says. “But we can dream.”

It seems that, over the weekend, Rory changed his sleep pattern, so when I came in yesterday morning, instead of sleeping through most of the time I spend here, he was awake. It came as a shock to both of us and we got very little done. As for today, it’s already eleven, and while I’ve tried to work aroundhim, it’s been difficult… but I guess it’s a difficulty we’re gonna have to accommodate.

I’ve got Peony’s laptop set up in front of me, and for the last two hours, while Rory’s grizzled and fussed, we’ve been trying to map out the final plans for Tanner and Zara’s wedding. These aren’t people I know… any more than I know Edward and Amelia, who are getting married on the first Saturday in March, or Toby and Sophia, whose date is set for the weekend before Easter. The difference is, Tanner and Zara are from Hart’s Creek. They’re locals, and while they may be strangers to me, they’re not to Peony… or to most other people who live here.

And that makes their wedding a special occasion.

What makes it even more romantic is that they’re getting married on St. Valentine’s Day.

So, we’re going all out.

“Has the photographer confirmed?” she asks, pulling forward her notepad while I sip my coffee.

“Yes. And I’ve sent a message to Archer about the guest who’s gluten intolerant.”

She frowns, shaking her head. “Why they had to wait until now to inform us, I don’t know.”

“No, nor do I. Surely they must realize that, with just a month to go, the catering is all set.”

Archer and his chef have been working on the menus since just after Thanksgiving, although I wasn’t here then. Which is to say, I was living in Hart’s Creek, but I wasn’t working for Peony. Not quite. I started in the second week of December, arriving just days after Peony’s best friend got married. It felt like there was an air of anti-climax at the time, although that didn’t last for long, and I have to say, although I’ve only been here for a month, I’m loving every second. I just wish Peony could afford to employ me for more than four mornings a week. It wouldsolve a lot of my problems… and probably a few of hers, now that Rory’s becoming less predictable.

Still, I knew the deal when I accepted the job. Peony didn’t hide anything from me… not even the fact that her husband Ryan had invested in her apple orchard, and helped her set up the wedding business which runs alongside it.

“He paid for the barn to be converted,” she explained, “and while I know he’d help me if I asked him, I’m determined to make it by myself. That’s why I can’t give you more than sixteen hours a week.”

Sixteen hours was better than nothing, and I took it, grateful for anything I could get.

And despite Rory’s wakefulness, we’re on top of things at the moment. So, although I might have hoped my part-time status was a temporary measure, I’m not sure it is. I think this is the way things are going to stay… and that’s not necessarily a good thing. Not for me. I might love this job, but I need something more if I’m going to stay in Hart’s Creek. That means I’ll have to look for another job. Not to replace this one. I enjoy it far too much to leave. But if I can find something else to fill my time, that would be great. No… it would be essential, actually.

“Are we sure they’re just gluten intolerant?” Peony says, bringing me back to our current predicament, rather than my own financial woes. “They don’t have celiac disease, do they?” She sounds a little alarmed, and I take a breath, giving her a smile in the hope it’ll calm her.

“They’ve said it’s gluten intolerance, but I can check if you want.”

“It’s probably wise, although I’m sure Archer will allow for it.”

“I’ll check… just to be safe.”

She nods her head. “I know we should focus on Tanner and Zara,” she says, “but did you see the message from Sophia Norris?”

“The one about the candles?”

“Yes. She wants them in a very specific pink.” She rolls her eyes, and I can empathize. I may not have been doing this job for very long, but I’m already getting to know what it’s like to deal with certain types of bride. “I tried contacting our usual supplier yesterday afternoon, but they don’t have anything that’s right, so I think we’ll have to look into having them made.”

“Okay. I’ll get onto that. We don’t have much time, so I’ll make that my priority for today. As long as you’re sure we’re up to date on everything we need to do for Tanner and Zara?”

“I think so,” she says, her brow furrowing, like she’s thinking… or maybe musing would be a better way of putting that.

“Is everything okay?” I ask, and she snaps out of her trance and smiles at me.

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