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Duncan noticed me looking toward the Factory entrance and slipped his arm around my shoulders.

“It’s a good crowd,” he said. “Lisa told me they’re expecting another strong weekend. Some of the people buying tickets this afternoon mentioned coming back because they enjoyed it last year.”

“That’s wonderful. I was hoping the attraction would keep building on what we started.”

“You gave them something they could keep improving. The crew knows how the effects work now, and Lisa’s done a good job making sure they have time for maintenance instead of waiting until everything breaks.”

I looked up at him.

“And you’ve been a pretty important part of that, Mr. Rusk.”

He gave me a sideways smile.

“I suppose I can take a little credit for keeping a few heads attached.”

“A rather important feature in a haunted house that manufactures people.”

Duncan laughed, then drew me closer and kissed my temple.

His arm was wonderfully warm around my shoulders, and I leaned against him for a moment while the festival continued around us.

I could hear the faint thump of music from the bandstand and the deeper rumble of a generator near the food trucks. The aroma of frying dough mingled with the crisp, smoky scent of autumn leaves, and a little farther down the path, children were laughing as they raced toward the corn maze.

Sienna, who’d wandered a little farther down the path while we admired the Factory, came back toward us with a delighted expression.

“There’s something I want us to do before it gets too crowded,” she announced. “I checked earlier, and I think this is a good time.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“That sounds suspiciously like something an event producer would say.”

She grinned.

“I learned from the best.”

Duncan made an amused sound beside me, and Sienna slipped her hand into mine.

“Come on. It’s not far.”

She led us along the main path toward the center of the festival grounds, where the giant FALL IN LOVE sign stood beneath a canopy of glowing lights.

I’d admired the display last year, but it looked even prettier tonight.

Large illuminated letters stretched across a decorated platform surrounded by pumpkins, stacked hay bales, and arrangements of deep red and orange flowers. Strings of tiny lights wound through the decorations, and a nearby tree had been wrapped with enough sparkling bulbs to turn its remaining golden leaves into something magical.

Couples and families were taking turns posing beneath the sign while a volunteer helped with photographs.

I smiled at the display.

“Oh, that’s beautiful. We really should get a picture together.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying,” Sienna informed me.

She looked toward Duncan, who had become unusually quiet.

He met her gaze briefly, then turned back to me with a warm smile.

“I think it’s a good idea. We never managed to get one here last year.”