Page 113 of When Sparks Fly


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“We know it hasn’t started, dear.” Iris patted Andrea’s arm. “That’s the whole point. The festival staff has to make sure the shuttles are operating properly.”

She laughed a little, looking at Tani in confusion. “Well, it’s not like they’re going to get lost driving up the hill.”

“It’s tradition!” Vickie exclaimed. “And former chairs are always invited. So let’s get this show on the road.”

She watched the two women walk toward the shuttle area, where, sure enough, there was a yellow school bus waiting. She looked at Tani.

“Did you know anything about this tradition?”

“Not really, but it sounds like fun. Come on, let’s join them.”

Andrea was going to ask whatnot reallymeant, but Tani was jogging—jogging!—toward the bus. Some other people were boarding, including more seniors like Maura McKinnon and Helen Russo. She was pretty sure neither of them had been festival chairpersons. And was that Whitney Rutledge and Bridget O’Hearn already inside? Bridget waved as Andrea got to the bus.

“Isn’t this fun? Come on aboard and let’s get this show on the road!”

“But I have so much to do...”

“Nonsense. Get on the bus, Andrea.”

Okay, then. Who was she to buck tradition? She sat near the front, but everyone kept asking her questions and telling stories of past festivals, so she wasn’t paying much attention to where they were. Until the bus slowed and turned onto a gravel drive. A driveway she knew too well. It was Zayne’s farm. She looked out the windshield. Or was it?

She hardly recognized the place. There were flowers everywhere—in hanging baskets, in large planters, on top of wooden wine barrels. The lawn was mowed short and trimmed around all the trees and outbuildings. There were signs pointing to “bus parking.” She blinked. What washappening?

The bus stopped near the field where the maze was located. There was an ornate wooden archway at the entrance, with lots of gingerbread frills. She knew it was Zayne’s work, but...why?

No one stood on the bus. Whitney leaned forward and tapped Andrea’s shoulder.

“I think this isyourstop.”

Andrea stood, still not sure what was going on. She went to the top of the steps at the open bus door and gasped. Zayne was standing outside, looking up at her.

“Zayne?” Beyond him, she saw a virtual tower of colorful mums on either side of the maze entrance. The path into the maze was cut short and neat, without a weed in sight. Just beautiful grass and tall corn. “You didn’t have to do this. We weren’t going to have a maze...”

“Youweren’t going to have a maze,” Vickie said behind her. “But Zayne told us the maze was on.” Vickie gave Andrea a not-so-subtle push toward the steps. “And we decided to go with Zayne’s plan. You should, too.”

Andrea walked down the steps. Zayne held out his hand for her, and she took it, smiling in spite of herself as soon as their fingers touched.

“This was all your idea?”

He shrugged. “Well, doing the maze was my idea. Then I mentioned needing help, and you know how this town is. People came out of the woodwork.”

She was staring up at him in wonder. “I thought you weren’t a people person.”

His mouth slid into a slanted grin. “I’m anAndreaperson. And if this is what it takes to put that smile on your face, then I can handle it.” She looked around the yard.

“But the flowers—I’ve never seen this place look so pretty.”

“You said it needed a woman’s touch. Lucy Cooper helped.”

She had no idea what to say.

“Why?”

Zayne laughed. The sound was warm and deep and made her feel lighter.

“Because when I care, I care one hundred percent, remember?”

A spark of hope blossomed inside her. This was about more than just a maze. “I remember.”

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