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She smiled and reached across the table to touch my hand.

“You’re a very rewarding student, Hudson. And for the record, I haven’t considered strangling you even once.”

“That’s good to hear. I was beginning to think the dragon’s dialogue might drive you to it.”

Her laugh followed us as we paid the bill and headed outside.

The evening had turned properly cold. A pale moon hung above the rooftops, and the breeze carried the scent of woodsmoke and damp earth. Peyton buttoned her coat while I settled her scarf around her neck, taking care not to catch a strand of hair in the knot.

She looked up at me with a smile that made me wish we weren’t standing in the middle of a busy sidewalk.

“Thank you for dinner. That was wonderful.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. We’ve still got plenty of time before the haunted house opens, so I thought we’d walk through the festival and see what they’ve got going on.”

She slipped her arm through mine, and we set off toward the park.

The festival spread across the Carlton Family Farm grounds and adjoining municipal park, with lighted paths connecting rows of booths and displays. Families moved between the attractions carrying paper cups of cider, bags of treats, and pumpkins selected with the kind of seriousness usually reserved for buying a house.

At one end of the grounds, a group of volunteers had arranged an enormous display of carved pumpkins beneath a wooden arch. Some were simple grinning faces, while others featured intricate patterns that sent orange light spilling across the ground.

Peyton stopped in front of one carved with a detailed woodland scene.

“That’s beautiful. Look at the little trees along the edge. Somebody must have extraordinarily steady hands.”

I leaned closer to examine the carving. The lines were clean, and the thinner sections had been reinforced well enough to keep the design from collapsing.

“Whoever did it knows how to work with a delicate material. You can’t force a cut like that without breaking something.”

Peyton looked up at me.

“Now I’m curious. Do you do any carving yourself?”

“Some woodworking. I’ve got a workshop at home where I make things when I’ve got the time. Mostly furniture and practical pieces, but every now and then I get talked into something decorative.”

Her expression brightened.

“I didn’t know that. What sort of things have you made?”

I told her about the bookshelves I’d built for my mother, a cabinet for my father’s tools, and a rocking horse for a friend’s little boy. The horse had been more trouble than I’d expected, partly because I’d spent so much time making sure it was balanced properly.

Peyton listened with genuine interest.

“I’d love to see some of your work. There’s something appealing about making something with your hands and knowing someone will use it for years.”

“I like that part too. You can spend all day working with enormous machinery, but there’s something satisfying about finishing a piece that fits exactly where it’s supposed to.”

She squeezed my arm.

“I knew there was more to you than that ridiculous romance-cover face.”

I laughed so hard that a couple passing behind us turned to look.

“Well, that’s a hell of a compliment.”

“I assure you, I meant it as one.”

Her smile was so pleased with itself that I bent and kissed her beside the pumpkin display.