“We don’t?” Rowan glanced around the market. The crowds were finally good, but it was the Saturday before Christmas. Last-minute shopping should have filled the market to the point of eruption.
“The snow’s working,” insisted Liliana. “We’re going to cast again tomorrow night to bring on more. Will you be there?”
Rowan’s face fell, but she nodded. “Of course.”
“Lili!” Cal Arthur walked up then. “Dorothy’s goin’ home with stomach troubles.” He glanced at Rowan and winked. “Maybe hit the wassail a bit hard.”
“Her niece coming to take over at her booth?” asked Liliana.
He shook his head. “Working a late shift at the clinic. Gotta just close it up.”
Liliana’s expression was pressed. “It’s a busy night. She’ll lose a lot of sales…I’ll keep it open for her as long as I can.” She glanced at Rowan. “Never a dull moment!”
And then she was off. When she’d gone out of view, Rowan opened her phone, typing a message to Zaide.
Operation Holly and Ivy has its next objective. It’s time to bring this festival into the modern era.
When she finished typing, Cal was still there, shaking his head and chuckling to himself. “That mother of yours. One-woman army, huh?”
“She’s a force of nature, all right.” Rowan fidgeted with the flyer in her hands, tearing at the edge of the paper. “Can I ask you something, Cal?”
“What is it, kid?”
“Do you think people would really rather the Goshen Group run the festival than her?”
His expression fell. “There’s no one in Elk Ridge who doesn’t owe something to Liliana Midwinter…But memory’s short and gets shorter still when things’re tough. Do I think people want that? Naw. Do I think they might feel like we don’t have other options, though…?” He sighed. “Can’t say. But I hope not.”
Then he gave her a nod. “Gotta head over to the Ferris wheel.” He disappeared back into the festival, and she settled into her seat to stew on his words.
At that moment, the waning daylight gave way fully to dusk, and all the light displays of the festival winked on. The transition never failed to cause gasps of delight throughout the crowds. A small girl with apple cheeks shuffled by in a white-and-gray Fair Isle sweater dress. The girl gripped a mug of hot cocoa close to her chest and stopped in her tracks to stare up at a dangling star-shaped display.
That pause was just long enough for her adults to vanish into the thickening crowd, and the child turned from the display back to where she expected to find her parents, realizing they were gone.
“Mommy…? Mommy!” She began wandering in the wrong direction, and Rowan all but tumbled over the edge of the booth to give chase.
She caught up to the little girl with a “Hold on! You’re going the wrong way.”
The little girl recoiled, trembling. “I want my mommy.”
Rowan knelt down to her level. “I’m going to help—I promise. We’ll find your parents.”
The little girl cast an uneasy gaze her way—well trained to bewary of strangers. It would have been easy, she supposed, to weave a spell of trust, but she couldn’t bring herself to cast it on a child who might later doubt instincts that would otherwise save her.
“My name’s Rowan. Do you want to tell me yours?”
“Iris.” The reply came after a moment of uncertainty.
“I’m glad you’re being cautious, Iris. You shouldn’t go anywhere with strangers. So I am going to tell you which direction I saw them go and let you choose whether you want to go that way. I can stay close by, but only if you want me to.”
The little girl studied her for a moment longer and then thrust her mittened hand into Rowan’s. “Okay. Where?”
Rowan described where she’d seen the adults vanish, and the little girl carried her along with a tug. They rounded a corner, all but colliding straight into Gavin.
“Rowan?” He glanced between her and the girl. She tensed, scanning the crowd for Hayleigh, but then she remembered that the Goshen Group had probably already taken off for their holiday.
“Um, hi, Gavin,” said Rowan. The little girl tugged at her to keep moving. “Can’t talk. We’re trying to find this girl’s parents.”
His brow knit with concern. “I’ll help. I can see over the crowd.”
