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She grinned and turned toward her father, who had reached the porch with his hands tucked into his jacket pockets.
“Did you tell Goldie about the breakfast pancakes?”
“I haven’t had a chance to tell her anything yet, sweetheart.”
“Lori made chocolate chip pancakes, and Jeff put whipped cream on his, but Mary-Kate said that was cheating because it was supposed to be breakfast.”
“Sounds like Mary-Kate has very strong opinions about breakfast.”
“She does.” Sienna considered that for a moment. “She ate one of his anyway.”
Duncan looked down at me, and I caught the amusement in his eyes.
“She’s been talking about those pancakes since I picked her up. I’m beginning to regret feeding her cereal all these years.”
“I wouldn’t make any rash changes until you’ve tried Lori’s pancakes yourself.”
His smile widened. He reached for my hand as Sienna turned to inspect the ceramic pumpkin beside the cottage door, giving my fingers a gentle squeeze that made me wish we had a few minutes alone.
“Did you get any sleep?” he asked quietly.
“Enough to be dangerous. How about you?”
“A little. I’ve got coffee in the truck in case either of us starts fading.”
He looked as though he could have used another several hours in bed, but the warm way he was watching me made it difficult to concentrate on anything resembling concern for his health.
Sienna rejoined us before I could decide whether kissing him on my porch was a good idea.
“Are we ready? The dragon’s not going to be there forever.”
Duncan took her overnight bag and started toward the truck. “It’s carved out of a pumpkin. I think we have at least another couple of hours.”
I followed them, laughing.
He opened the front passenger door for me while Sienna climbed into the back. My SUV remained beneath the oak beside the cottage, exactly where I’d need it tomorrow.
As Duncan pulled onto the road, Sienna began telling me about the sleepover. Mary-Kate and Annabelle had stayed up later than planned, somebody had spilled popcorn beneath the sofa, and they’d watched a movie that Sienna described as “not very scary, but good.”
Duncan listened with an occasional question, and I noticed that he didn’t challenge her assessment of the movie or ask whether it had given her nightmares.
Considering how Friday afternoon had ended, I counted that as progress.
***
Fall Fest looked different in daylight with actual visitors filling the paths instead of workers hauling supplies between half-finished booths.
Bright orange pumpkins lined the entrance to the municipal park. Quilts, knitted shawls, and handmade decorations hung beneath striped tents, and the cold air carried a delicious mixture of frying dough, cinnamon, wood smoke, and grilled sausage from the food trucks farther along the main path.
Children hurried past us in colorful jackets, dragging parents toward the games. Somewhere ahead, an axe struck wood with a satisfying thud, followed by a burst of applause.
I’d spent most of yesterday checking schedules and making sure people weren’t using electrical outlets that belonged to someone else. Being able to walk through the festival without carrying a clipboard felt like an entirely new experience.
Sienna took charge almost immediately.
“The carving displays are this way. I checked the map.”
She held the folded festival flyer in one hand and pointed toward a cluster of tents beyond the food stands.
