Free When Harriet Came Home by Coleen Kwan Page B

year below us at school.” Adam’s voice was as terse as his expression.
    “Harriet Brown?” The blankness on Tristan’s face slowly altered as his memory kicked in. A flush crept up his neck. “Ah…Harriet…yes.” He eyed her uncertainly as he tugged at the collar of his expensive polo shirt. “Hi there.”
    “Hello.” She gave him a nod.
    “Harriet and I have just been discussing the catering for the Harvest Ball,” Adam continued without a sideways glance at her.
    “ Have you?” Portia’s voice was sharp as a whiplash, belying her languid posture. She’d been lounging against a veranda post, but now she sauntered forward in her impeccable linen pantsuit. Ignoring Harriet, she planted herself in front of Adam. “Why are you talking to Harriet about the ball? I thought you were going to call Grape in Scone today.”
    “Thanks for the suggestion, but Harriet will be doing the catering.”
    Portia’s jaw sagged. “She is?”
    I am? Harriet thought. She stared at Adam who continued to ignore her.
    “Harriet runs her own catering business back in Sydney,” he said. “She’s just given me a sample of her cooking, and I’m satisfied she can handle the job.” He turned to Harriet. “Can’t you?”
    The challenge in his eyes was unmistakeable. She sucked in a quick breath. “Of course I can.”
    She had no idea what she had just agreed to. After her disastrous apple-and-rhubarb crumble, she’d assumed she’d lost all hope of winning Adam over, so she hadn’t even bothered to ask for more details like how many people he expected, or what facilities there were at the church hall. But now that she’d given him her word in front of Portia and Tristan, she would rather pull out her fingernails than back-pedal.
    “You never mentioned Harriet to the committee.” Portia’s face was tight with accusation. “I’m sure some of us would have had something to say if we’d been consulted.”
    “It’s the best solution.” Adam’s voice was deceptively even. “I’m sure the committee would agree that, with only two weeks to go, Harriet is the logical choice to step in for her dad.”
    “Sounds like common sense to me,” Tristan chipped in.
    His sister shot him a freezing glare. He buried his hands in his pockets and studied his Gucci loafers. A tense little silence developed between the four of them.
    Harriet quickly tired of Portia’s scowl aimed at her. “I’d better be on my way,” she said to Adam. “I’ll call you later to discuss some of the details.” She turned back to his cousins. “My car’s back at Adam’s cottage, so I’ll just say goodbye now.”
    Tristan jumped forward. “I’ll walk you back. I haven’t seen you in ages. What have you been up to?”
    His attention startled her. At school Tristan had noticed her even less than Adam had, but now, as she walked back up the driveway, he bounded at her side like an exuberant golden retriever. He didn’t seem to hold a grudge against her for what she’d done to Adam’s father; it was as if he were meeting her for the first time. He asked her questions and chatted about himself in a breezy manner that she couldn’t bring herself to dislike. In return she gave him a brief rundown of her father’s accident and her involvement with the Harvest Ball.
    The sound of a car engine purring made her turn her head. Adam and Portia were behind them in the BMW. Portia was at the wheel, but Adam was staring straight at Harriet and Tristan, a small frown between his eyes.
    Harriet turned away and hurried up the drive, her nerves jangling. “Here’s my car,” she announced to Tristan.
    She slipped into the driver’s seat of her hatchback with a grateful sigh, eager to be gone.
    “I’ll see you around.” Tristan smiled hopefully as he shut her door for her.
    As Portia’s BMW drew up alongside, Harriet started her engine and pulled off, waving in the general direction of Adam and Portia. Adam gave her a solemn salute. In her rear-view