Page 99 of Pumpkin Spice Promises

I stared. “You really don’t understand small towns.”

“I’ve lived here my whole life.”

“Then you should understand that telling Darlene Pike no only makes her more committed.”

“Fine.” He shrugged. “Tell Rosie.”

“Same problem.”

“June?”

I gave him a glare as he leaned back against the wagon.

“You don’t have to let Willow Creek recreate James’s festival.” He continued. “Make it your own.”

The idea landed strangely. “It would still be here.”

“Yeah.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying everybody keeps talking about bringing the Harvest Festival back.” He glanced around us. “Maybe that’s the wrong goal.”

The barn went quiet.

“You’re never going to recreate what it was.”

That should have hurt. Instead, it felt almost relieving.

“James isn’t here,” Beau continued. “You’re not twenty. Half the equipment is five years older. Willow Creek has more people coming in now. Trying to make it exactly what you remember is probably going to make you miserable.”

“Well…” I looked at the sign leaning beside the door. “What would I make it?”

“Whatever works now.”

“Very helpful,” I said dryly.

“Not my festival.” His response was immediate, as was his hands that he raised in an innocent gesture. Yet, his words mattered more than they should.

Not our festival.

Not I’ll help you decide.

Just… It was my festival.

My choice.

I walked toward the bins. A smaller plastic tote sat beneath the lighting box. No label. I pulled it out and inside were old bright orange bandanas. I stared at the memories as they invaded my mind.

“Oh my God.”

“What?”

Beau walked over as I pulled one free. Black stitching along one corner read MARIGOLD RANCH. I had forgotten these existed. Pops ordered them one year because he thought festival volunteers needed uniforms. Nobody had agreed with him, but he made us wear them anyway. I unfolded one and the memory hit harder than I expected. Deep in my stomach.

Seventeen-year-old me tying one around my ponytail while Pops complained mine wasn’t visible enough.

Meme refusing to wear hers around her neck because she said she wasn’t a golden retriever.