Book 11: A Small Town Secret
Love in Harmony Valley Series
On this page, you’ll find the story blurb, an excerpt, the story behind the story, and bonus content.
She’s his prime suspect…maybe.
Third-generation firefighter Captain Ben Libby is sworn to keep Harmony Valley safe. But a recent series of fires points to arson. Not that Ben really suspects Mandy Zapien, who's back in town to reopen the defunct post office—a potential fire hazard. Is he letting her off because of her incredible smile?
They have more in common than they think.
They’ve both given up a lot for family. Mandy's raising her teenage sister, just as Ben’s raising his godchild. And they both chose Harmony Valley when other options might have suited their careers better. But is that enough to base forever on?
Fans of single parent and firefighter romance will love this fun, heartwarming romance with a happily ever after.
Readers love A Small Town Do-Over:
“I really enjoyed this book. It was one of my favorites in this series.” Goodreads Reviewer, 5 Stars ★★★★★
“A Small Town Secret is another wonderful addition to the Love in Harmony Valley Series but can be read as a stand alone story, however I suggest reading the previous stories for secondary character backgrounds and just for the pure entertainment of the series.” Goodreads Reviewer ★★★★★
Excerpt:
“Cheapest way to fight fires is to prevent fires.” Winded and wheezy, Dad stood outside the Harmony Valley Post Office in his navy blue uniform, one sun-spotted hand on the wall. “Cheapest way,” he repeated absently.
Ben didn’t care about budgets. He cared about safety. He stopped next to his father, scoping the post office like a burglar about to do business. “The town council should have approved funding for a four-man crew. Imagine the two of us on scene for a fully committed blaze.” Disastrous.
California’s fire code required a minimum of four firemen on active fire calls, which left them dependent upon other nearby fire crews or trained volunteers. They had no trained volunteers yet, and Harmony Valley was in a far-flung corner of Sonoma County. Help wasn’t going to be quick.
“You’ve driven around town.” Dad sucked in a shallow breath, giving away the effect the smoky air had on his lung disease. “Our district constituents are old.” Suck-wheeze. His face lost more color. “We’ll be handling more medical calls than fire emergencies.” Suck-wheeze. “Which is the way of the world now it seems.”
Kitten and medical calls were turning out to be their charter. Once they put a volunteer program in place, they wouldn’t have to rely on Cloverdale for backup if there was a fire.
Ben took Dad’s arm. “Why don’t you wait in the truck with an oxygen mask?”
Dad tugged his arm free. “Because I’m the one who signs off—” gasp-wheeze “—on inspections and citations.”
Ben’s jaw dropped. “You haven’t issued any citations. Only warnings. Warnings don’t bring buildings up to code as quickly as citations.”
The post office was a plain, boxy gray building with an air of neglect. It looked in need of about ten citations. There was a small grove of trees behind it. Beyond the trees was a field with waist-high, dried-out wild grass. Beyond that was a two-story farmhouse that was more tear-down than fixer-upper.
“I’m almost sorry I raised you in the city,” Dad said gruffly. “You don’t understand the role of a small-town fireman. These people are our friends.” Dad’s expression was boss-man defiant.
Ben had a defiant expression of his own. Too bad Dad wasn’t looking at him. “Friends don’t let friends burn their businesses down. Issue some citations already.”
“This round, a warning will suffice.” His old man lumbered toward the post office door, his breath sounding like an out-of-tune accordion. “You’ll understand someday.”
“Maybe...” Ben chewed on the tether binding his sarcasm until it broke. “Maybe when I’m old and dotty, like you.”
Dad mumbled something about ungrateful sons and fire captains who were wet behind the ears. In turn, Ben mumbled something about passing up a fire inspector promotion and fire chiefs who were softies.
And then, they both laughed, exchanging smiles before continuing toward the post office door. That rare moment of camaraderie gave Ben a warm, mushy feeling the likes of which he didn’t associate with his father. He walked slowly.
“Walk with a purpose, son,” Dad said as if Ben was twelve and lagging behind at the mall. “We have plenty more inspections to do.”
“A list as long as my arm,” Ben grumbled. After years without a fire department, father and son were playing catch-up on safety measures in Harmony Valley.
The outer post office door was unlocked. They entered the lobby, but the counter window was closed. Classic country music drifted out to them from the back.
Ben knocked on the door that said Employees Only.
There was no answer.
Dad leaned against the wall, frowning when he noticed Ben staring at him. “Yes, I’m out of shape. I’ll get better.”
Doubtful.
“Why don’t you wait in the truck?” Ben repeated patiently.
“Because I’m the fire chief,” Dad rasped, a welcome spark of energy in his blue eyes.
“At least use your inhaler.” Ben pounded harder on the door while his father dug in his pocket for his medicine.
Again, no answer. The music was too darn loud. Playing music loud… It reminded Ben of Hannah’s mom.
Erica had lived for the adrenaline rush—fast cars, base jumping, parachuting out of planes. She’d had a soundtrack for every experience, blaring it through booming speakers or her earbuds. If she’d lived to be eighty, she would’ve been deaf. He’d assumed little reserved Hannah would be the opposite of her mother. She wasn’t. Erica’s love of life had taken a different tangent with Hannah, a softer, quieter tangent.
What kind of person awaited them inside the post office.
Out of patience, Ben tried the door. It was unlocked. He opened it a few inches, but had to push aside a mail cart to get inside, and even then, there were boxes stacked in front of the cart. Talk about blocking safety entrances. Other than that, the mail room floor was relatively clear. There was a large rolling door in one wall that presumably opened to the parking lot for mail truck deliveries.
On the far side of the room a thin, tall woman was clad in postal service blue shorts and a baggy, blue-and-white striped shirt. Her dark brown hair was bound in messy ponytails that hung beneath each ear. Back to Ben, she mopped the floor, singing off-key to a tune about drinking too much.
Dad chuckled.
Ben found nothing funny about it. A fire to the rear of the building by the loading dock and this woman would be trapped.
“Fire!” Ben shouted.
The mop clattered to the floor. The woman whirled, sneakers slipping slightly on wet linoleum. Wide brown eyes landed on Ben with a gut-dropping thud. She wasn’t smiling, but she had the kind of face that carried a smile 99 percent of the time, the kind of face that aged gracefully with few lines because she never had a care. And Ben, who carried cares like other people lugged too much spare change, was struck with envy.
She switched off the music.
The sudden silence rang in Ben’s ears as he breathed in cleanser fumes and waited to see if the woman had a frown in her arsenal, some hint that her life wasn’t all rainbows and unicorns.
“I’m Mandy, the new postmaster.” She blinked, and with that blink her expression seemed to reset. A small smile. A carefree tone of voice. A kick in Envious Ben’s shin. “Where’s the fire?”
The Story Behind the Story
The interesting thing about writing the Love in Harmony Valley series is that it was a ghost town and now I need to add services and businesses to it. This book re-opens the fire department and local post office. Who writes a heroine as a postmaster? This gal, that’s who!
Bonus Content
You can listen to this book FREE on YouTube Video.
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