Poppy's Proposal

Harrison Coulter is in the spotlight. Rumored to be the next candidate for governor, there is just one problem – the people won’t elect the most eligible bachelor to the state’s highest office. He needs a wife, but he isn’t looking for love. There is one woman from his past though…

Poppy Bloom has roots as deep as the produce she grows on Bloom’s Farm. When her livelihood is threatened and she finds herself helpless to make a difference, Poppy agrees to a proposal she never saw coming.

Old feelings blossom into something new, but their individual goals clash with the promises made to each other. How will God use this marriage that was strategized instead of starry-eyed to open them both to the power of love?

Supermom5.0 out of 5 stars Read the whole series

Reviewed in the United States on October 12, 2022

I loved this series! Tara Grace Ericson will have you captivated through each one. Each Bloom sibling has there own unique personality and story.Poppy and Harrison story has the political and home town life’s intertwined with the feels of the past sneaking in.Worth the time to read.

Harrison Coulter stared across the conference
table at Neil Powers, his political advisor. Neil had approached him seven
years ago about running for office. Now, his friend and colleague begged him to
reconsider his plea.

“Harrison, this is your only option. Unless you
get married before announcing your candidacy for governor, it is a complete
non-starter. The party will not support you.” Neil ran a hand through his
thinning hair.

Harrison shook his head and twisted the pen in
his hands. “I just don't understand. Didn’t you say I was everything the party
was looking for? Unless I’m single.” He frowned at Neil’s nod. This was
ridiculous. Harrison hadn't even wanted to go into politics. After college, he
became a lawyer because he had a love for justice. And partly because he loved
to argue.

Neil stood and paced the small conference room.
“You are everything they are
looking for, Harrison. But the voters in our wonderful state simply will not
elect a 32-year-old bachelor to the highest office in the state government.
They will not do it. So either you wait and miss this election cycle, or you
get married. And if you miss this time around, it’s eight years before we get
another shot.”

“Neil, I'm not even dating anyone. How am I
supposed to get married?” Did they think he could summon a wife out of thin
air?

“I know that. Do you think I don't know that?”
Neil looked to Harrison's Chief of Staff. Bethany Williams was old enough to be
Harrison's mother, and she had been around the state government of Indiana
since before he was born. Somehow, he hit the lottery when she agreed to come
work for him. “Back me up on this, Bethany.”

The ever-practical woman held up her hands,
“Don't rope me into this, Neil.”

Harrison smiled at her no-nonsense tone. Let's
see how far Neil had thought this out. “Okay, okay. Let's say I agree with
you—that I don't think I can get elected unless I'm married. What do you think
I should do?” Harrison had been in politics for six years, which was almost
nothing in this world of career politicians. But, much to his surprise, he
relished the opportunity to create lasting changes for the people of this
state. When Neil first approached him, Harrison had just landed a major court
victory for exposing fraud and injustice within the city government. Harrison
said no, repeatedly. Until his pastor urged him to pray about it. And wouldn't
you know it? God affirmed the path.

On especially difficult days, when he was tired
of the negotiations and political drama, Harrison asked God the question again,
hoping he had completed the mission. So far, he had only been told to stay.
Harrison wasn't sure yet if God was telling him to run for governor, but he
wasn't sure He wasn't. He would keep asking, but Harrison needed to know what
it would take.

“You need a wife. Right? In this political arena, you are still positioned as the home-grown country boy who made a name
for himself. Your wife needs to be someone who shares that heritage. Someone
who loves Indiana as much as you do. Someone voters will love.” Neil raised an
eyebrow at him, “Someone people would believe you fell for.”

Harrison snorted.

Sure, they could pull a perfect Miss Indiana out
of a box and he would propose next week. Still, as Neil continued to describe
his ideal candidate, Harrison's mind wandered about 200 miles west of his
current Indianapolis office back home to a little speck on the map, fifteen
miles from anywhere. There was a girl he knew like the one Neil was describing.

The only problem was, Poppy Bloom was unlikely
to vote for him, let alone marry him.

* * *

Poppy strolled through the annual pick-your-own
apple event, watching it unfold with pride on the outskirts of the orchards in
the freshly mowed pasture. Each year, Apple Days grew. This year, Poppy invited
local craftsmen and businesses to set up booths and carnival games for
families. Plus she was selling the apple butter, pie filling, and cider from
this year's harvest.

Her sister Daisy manned the cash register,
weighing apples and ringing up jelly jars. Another sister clutched her camera
tightly, snapping pictures of the event. Lavender's hard work as their
marketing expert was a huge reason events like Apple Days succeeded. Poppy
stepped next to her younger sister and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Great
turnout, isn't it?”

Lavender nodded, watching a group of children
play catch with a bright red apple. “The Facebook event got a lot of reach.”

“Well, thanks for everything you do. I think
these types of events are exactly what Bloom's Farm needs to do more of. It's
so important that kids know where their food comes from.” Even here in western
Indiana, in the heart of American farmland, too many children would never plant
a garden or taste a fresh-picked tomato. It made Poppy want to invite every
single one out to the farm.

A shadow fell over her shoulder, and she turned
to see the county commissioner, Gerald Ruiz, and greeted him.

“Well, hello, Miss Bloom. Fine event you've got
here.”

“Thank you, Commissioner. How are things at the
county these days?”

“Oh, you know. Mostly the same, although I
recently heard of something you might be interested in. You know my family sold
our farm a few years back, but I would never want to see anything happen that
would threaten small, family-owned farms.”

Warning bells sounded in her head. Anything that
threatened small farms was something she would fight against tooth and nail.
“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, just some new proposals over in Indianapolis. I guess those big farm corporations have deep pockets with more
than one senator in them.” The Commissioner told Poppy about a new piece of
legislation. From the sound of it, The Farm Business Act would strip away
financial incentives for smaller farms and give a huge advantage to larger,
single-crop operations.

If Poppy's understanding of this train wreck was
accurate, it would mean the end of small farming operations like hers and
hundreds of others in the region.

Bloom's Farm was known for growing a wide
variety of crops with a low environmental impact philosophy. Farmer's markets
and Community Supported Agriculture Programs were the lifeblood of her
operation. The CSA produce baskets encompassed Poppy’s priority to provide
local produce and partner with families directly. She had worked hard to
convince her father that moving toward organic, diverse produce was the best
business move. If The Farm Business Act succeeded, it could mean the end of the
Bloom's Farm she had worked so hard to create. Now, she just had to figure out
how to stop it.

“I had no idea, Commissioner.” Poppy said honestly. There had been a little buzz on the online farming forums, but
nothing so drastic.

“I'm sure it will be okay, Miss Bloom. Your farm
here is a local landmark. I can't think of a better way to spend a Sunday
afternoon.” She smiled tightly as the commissioner saw a familiar face and
strolled across the pasture with an arm raised in greeting.

Whatever the Commissioner thought, this was not
okay. Maybe Bloom's Farm would survive. With Lily’s event barn, animals, and
the bed-and-breakfast, they were better off than most farms. But her friends?
Poppy needed to stop this bill. The state senate wasn't in session until
January. That was months away, but the clock had started ticking.

Sunday night, Poppy built a small campfire as
Lavender fiddled with a Bluetooth speaker from the truck bed parked nearby.
This small creek and makeshift beach had seen thousands of Bloom family
campfires over the years. Tonight, it hosted Mandy Elliott's bachelorette
party. S'mores, camp chairs, and a 90s boy band playlist was the perfect way to
celebrate their friend's upcoming marriage.

Poppy would regret staying up too late and
eating far too many processed foods, but as the laughter rang out over the
quiet pasture behind them, she couldn't regret the evening. Daisy was the
Maid-of-Honor, and their friend Chrissy was a bridesmaid. Chrissy had her own
wedding in just a few weeks, too. In fact, the only single ladies at the party
were from the Bloom Family—Poppy and her sisters. Maybe it was a family curse.

“Okay, Mandy. Tell us the truth,” Daisy called
from across the circle. “How did you meet Dr. Pike?”

Mandy covered her face with her hands and the
others encouraged her, “Come on, tell us.”

“There's a reason I haven't said anything. It's
embarrassing!” she admitted.

Another friend from Minden, Charlotte, chimed
in, “It can't be more embarrassing than when I assumed Luke was breaking into Ruth's cabin.”

Lavender delicately placed a marshmallow on a
skewer. “That's nothing. Daisy fell through the ceiling while Lance was in the
room below her.” Daisy glared at her sister and the group hooted and hollered.

“Lance and I are not a couple. Can we please get
back to Mandy's story, please?” Daisy objected, grabbing a Diet Dr. Pepper from the cooler.

“Okay, okay. So, obviously, Garrett is a doctor.
Well, I had an appointment with a doctor in his office.” Mandy looked around as
everyone waited for the rest. “But I fell asleep and no one ever came to do my
appointment.”

“The doctor never came?” Poppy's mouth fell open
with a laugh. “How long were you there?”

Mandy chuckled, “I'm not sure. I was pretty out
of it. I think I woke up around eight that night? All I know is it was well
after closing time, and Garrett thought I was an intruder. So not too far off
from your story, Charlotte!”

Later in the evening, the women grew quieter.
The sound of crickets and the cracking of the fire was interrupted occasionally
by conversation. Poppy added another log to the fire. Somehow, she'd become the
official firekeeper. Then she tipped her head back and studied the stars,
taking in a deep breath of the smoke-scented air. Bloom's Farm was her favorite
place on earth. Losing it was unimaginable. What would she do if she wasn’t a
farmer?

“Mandy, what would you do if you didn’t run a
daycare?”

The question broke the comfortable silence and
the women took turns answering the hypothetical question with their dream jobs
or backup careers.

“If I didn’t have the farm, I’d probably work at
a veterinary clinic like I did in school,” Poppy’s youngest sister, Rose,
offered. “Although, it’s way more fun to do this than it is to give puppies
their shots.”

Chrissy chimed in, “If I didn’t own the restaurant, I’d love to do something that involved travel. Like maybe write one
of the travel memoirs I read.”

“I’m already on my backup plan,” Daisy said. “I
couldn’t be a professional dancer, so I decided to open a bed-and-breakfast.
What about you, Poppy?”

“If I didn’t have the farm?” Poppy considered.
“I don’t know. Maybe some sort of teacher?”

Snorts of laughter escaped from Lavender. “Come
on, Poppy. There is no way you could be a teacher. You’d expel half your class
before the first week was over.”

“Yeah, maybe you could be a food blogger!”
Danielle offered. “You know more about food than most people I met at culinary
school.” Danielle ran the bakery in Minden after moving from California last
year.

Charlotte tapped a finger on her chin, “Hmm.
You’ve got the whole activist vibe, Poppy. I think you would be a lobbyist for
the Produce Growers of America or something.” Poppy smiled at the nonexistent
organization.

“Yeah, right. Politics? Not for me.” Poppy
insisted. From what she knew of Charlotte, the woman had an amazing ability to
read people. Someone needed to speak up for small farms across America, but it
definitely wasn’t Poppy. No one listened to her around here; she would make a
terrible activist.

The following Tuesday, Poppy took the four-wheeler to the orchard. The trampled pasture was the only evidence
hundreds of people had visited the farm. Apple Days were over and she needed to
see what remained on the trees. Then she needed to prep the fertilizer for the
squash and pumpkins. It was time for their second application, and it seemed
hard to believe it was nearly October.

Some in her family might call her obsessed with
sustainable lifestyle, but Poppy simply embraced the benefits of fewer chemicals in her body. Her only brother, Hawthorne, claimed it made her a
hippie. Over the years, she'd given up and embraced the label; at least within
the family.

Poppy climbed down from the four-wheeler to duck
between trees and take a better look at the inner rows, where people were
unlikely to have picked apples. Judging by the trees she'd seen so far, there
would be plenty to include a bag in the CSA boxes, plus making more apple
butter. Maybe Danielle's bakery in Minden would be interested in offering it.
She'd be sure to call her about it next week. Her phone vibrated and she
glanced at the unfamiliar number before answering. Indianapolis.

“This is Poppy Bloom.”

“I have Senator Coulter for you. Please hold.”

Poppy frowned. This had to be a joke. First,
there was no way Senator Coulter was calling her. Second, even if he were,
surely he wouldn't have his assistant make the connection for him. She waited
until a deep voice sounded in her ear. “Poppy, this is Harris–”

Poppy punched the red button with her thumb and
slid her phone back into her pocket.

Twenty minutes and three ignored phone calls
later, Poppy let her curiosity get the better of her when she saw a text
message arrive. Please talk to me.

Was he kidding? Harrison Coulter, her friend and
first love—unrequited love—was now a bigshot lawyer and state senator. His
calling meant nothing good. Still, it had been five years since she had seen
him at the Southwest Indiana Farm Association banquet in Terre Haute with a
slinky blonde reporter on his arm. Since then, Poppy did her best to avoid
events where he might be present, or even read news articles where he might be
mentioned. Which was difficult, because he managed to insert himself into nearly
every farm-related issue that came up in the state legislature. If she found
out he was supporting The Farm Business Act, she would egg his office.

As though he could feel her weakening resolve,
Harrison’s number flashed on her screen again. Incoming call.

This time, instead of hitting ignore, Poppy hit
the green button and held the phone to her ear, not speaking. “Poppy?” At least
he hadn't made his secretary dial the number this time. She didn't answer. “At
least let me know if you are there.”

Poppy rolled her eyes and responded, “I'm here.”

A sigh of relief sounded in her ear, “Thank you.
I was really hoping to talk with you about something.” He paused, as though
waiting for her to respond. When she didn't, he continued, “This was a bad
idea.” Poppy could picture him, sitting at an enormous desk, probably in an
expensive suit, rifling his fingers through his short brown hair. “Never mind,
Poppy. Forget I called.” He sighed again and Poppy heard the defeat in his
voice. What was going on? Why had he called her, and why did her heart automatically
want to make it better? Something was bothering him, and she instinctively
wanted to help. Too many years as friends could do that to a girl, even after a
promise to leave him where he belonged—in the past.

“Harrison, wait.” Poppy took a deep breath and
asked herself if she was sure. She continued, “What do you want?”

Harrison groaned. “I need a date.”

Poppy's eyes widened. “What? Did you say a
date?”

Harrison continued, “Yeah, a date. Well, not
just a date. I have something I needed to talk to you about. I thought maybe a
date would give us a place to start.”

Poppy narrowed her eyes, still unconvinced that
someone wasn't playing a joke on her. Her brother, Hawthorne, was ornery like
that. “Harrison?”

“Yes?”

“Is this really you?” He laughed and the sound
sent vibrations rumbling all the way to her toes. Yep, that answered the
question. No one else had ever had that impact on her.

“Okay, just making sure it was really you before
I did this.” Poppy hung up and slid the phone back into her pocket. Whatever
had prompted Harrison to call her was something she wanted no part in. She'd
forgiven him when he canceled their agreement to attend prom ‘as friends’ so he
could take Melanie Crocker. She'd even forgiven him for the last-minute
cancelation when he was supposed to visit her at Indiana University. But when
he had promised to meet her in Indianapolis for her 20th birthday dinner and never
showed? Poppy decided she would never waste her time pining away for Harrison
Coulter.

Even if he begged her or promised her the world.

Still, she couldn't help but worry about The
Farm Business Act being introduced to the senate in January. Harrison would
undoubtedly be right in the middle of the discussion. Was he one of the
senators being bought by the big farm corporations? It didn't seem like the
Harrison she knew. But it had been almost twelve years since college. She had
to face the reality that she didn't know him at all.