Page 23 of A Spell for Midwinter’s Heart

As Rowan worked her shift at the festival information booth, her head kept drifting back to the cards, going over every interpretation. Despite the clear and pressing message of the second two cards, she kept coming back to the first instead. The lovers.

The entire trip had been a reminder of how far she had drifted from her family and friends. Separation was the natural consequence of leaving home—in fact, it had been one of her goals. Starting fresh in a new community had seemed like the only way to move forward.

But had she done that?

No. Not really.

She had spent the last eight years in a state of emotional transience, organizing first around her degree programs and then a series of jobs she couldn’t seem to stick with.

She had developed no close friendships, and she’d constantly bounced from one neighborhood to the next in pursuit of affordable living situations.

She’d given up everything and built nothing in its place.

Her mother stomped into the festival booth, knocking snow from the tread of her boots as she went.

Liliana Midwinter’s cheeks were pink, the gold flecks in her hazel eyes shining.

She’d been running around all day—coordinating performers, resolving customer issues, restocking supplies—but the hard work didn’t run her down. It wound her up.

“How’s it going?” asked her mother.

“Well,” said Rowan, “I had one person try to ‘return’ one of the free candy canes for a refund. When I explained they were free, he insisted that I’d taken his money but that I could make it up to him with a drink at the public house.

I was calculating how good a weapon this would make…

” She held up a crochet needle from where she’d been putting the finishing touches on her amigurumi. “Until Stephan walked up.”

Her mother chuckled, knowing exactly what Stephan’s presence inspired.

Though Rowan’s big brother was a gentle giant, there were times he could use his build to pretend not to be.

When his broad, square face glowered at someone, radiating that protective magic of his, even the most “obnoxious with wassail” customers realized it was in their best interest to move right along.

“Other than that?” asked her mother.

Rowan shrugged. “Mostly answered questions about the entertainment schedule and where to find vendors. Normal stuff.”

Her mother set about putting away stacks of supplies—not content, it seemed, with the piles Rowan had been leaving things in.

What was the point, Rowan wondered, of putting things away when she would just need to get them back out again?

It was one of those fundamental differences in perspectives that divided the Midwinter women.

She had a feeling Gavin would be on Liliana’s side.

Gavin. Why does it matter whose side he would take?

They’d probably never speak again, much less debate the merits of keeping spaces tidy even if it was inefficient.

One of the informational flyers fluttered to the ground as Liliana cleaned, and Rowan picked it up, studying it for a moment. There was something missing that she expected to see when she looked at a flyer like this. Then it hit her.

“Hey, Mom, does the festival have any social media?”

“Social media?” Liliana’s face wrinkled in distaste. “We have a website.”

“Which is great for the people who already know to look for us, but social media will help us reach the ones who don’t. Naomie and Kel are both whizzes with that stuff.”

Liliana’s face firmed. “We don’t need it.”

“We don’t?” Rowan glanced around the market. The crowds were finally good, but it was the Saturday before Christmas. Last-minute shopping should have filled the market to the point of eruption.

“The snow’s working,” insisted Liliana. “We’re going to cast again tomorrow night to bring on more. Will you be there?”

Rowan’s face fell, but she nodded. “Of course.”

“Lili!” Cal Arthur walked up then. “Dorothy’s goin’ home with stomach troubles.” He glanced at Rowan and winked. “Maybe hit the wassail a bit hard.”

“Her niece coming to take over at her booth?” asked Liliana.

He shook his head. “Working a late shift at the clinic. Gotta just close it up.”

Liliana’s expression was pressed. “It’s a busy night. She’ll lose a lot of sales…I’ll keep it open for her as long as I can.” She glanced at Rowan. “Never a dull moment!”

And then she was off. When she’d gone out of view, Rowan opened her phone, typing a message to Zaide.

Operation Holly and Ivy has its next objective. It’s time to bring this festival into the modern era.

When she finished typing, Cal was still there, shaking his head and chuckling to himself. “That mother of yours. One-woman army, huh?”

“She’s a force of nature, all right.” Rowan fidgeted with the flyer in her hands, tearing at the edge of the paper. “Can I ask you something, Cal?”

“What is it, kid?”

“Do you think people would really rather the Goshen Group run the festival than her?”

His expression fell. “There’s no one in Elk Ridge who doesn’t owe something to Liliana Midwinter…

But memory’s short and gets shorter still when things’re tough.

Do I think people want that? Naw. Do I think they might feel like we don’t have other options, though…

?” He sighed. “Can’t say. But I hope not. ”

Then he gave her a nod. “Gotta head over to the Ferris wheel.” He disappeared back into the festival, and she settled into her seat to stew on his words.

At that moment, the waning daylight gave way fully to dusk, and all the light displays of the festival winked on.

The transition never failed to cause gasps of delight throughout the crowds.

A small girl with apple cheeks shuffled by in a white-and-gray Fair Isle sweater dress.

The girl gripped a mug of hot cocoa close to her chest and stopped in her tracks to stare up at a dangling star-shaped display.

That pause was just long enough for her adults to vanish into the thickening crowd, and the child turned from the display back to where she expected to find her parents, realizing they were gone.

“Mommy…? Mommy!” She began wandering in the wrong direction, and Rowan all but tumbled over the edge of the booth to give chase.

She caught up to the little girl with a “Hold on! You’re going the wrong way.”

The little girl recoiled, trembling. “I want my mommy.”

Rowan knelt down to her level. “I’m going to help—I promise. We’ll find your parents.”

The little girl cast an uneasy gaze her way—well trained to be wary of strangers. It would have been easy, she supposed, to weave a spell of trust, but she couldn’t bring herself to cast it on a child who might later doubt instincts that would otherwise save her.

“My name’s Rowan. Do you want to tell me yours?”

“Iris.” The reply came after a moment of uncertainty.

“I’m glad you’re being cautious, Iris. You shouldn’t go anywhere with strangers. So I am going to tell you which direction I saw them go and let you choose whether you want to go that way. I can stay close by, but only if you want me to.”

The little girl studied her for a moment longer and then thrust her mittened hand into Rowan’s. “Okay. Where?”

Rowan described where she’d seen the adults vanish, and the little girl carried her along with a tug. They rounded a corner, all but colliding straight into Gavin.

“Rowan?” He glanced between her and the girl. She tensed, scanning the crowd for Hayleigh, but then she remembered that the Goshen Group had probably already taken off for their holiday.

“Um, hi, Gavin,” said Rowan. The little girl tugged at her to keep moving. “Can’t talk. We’re trying to find this girl’s parents.”

His brow knit with concern. “I’ll help. I can see over the crowd.”

“Are you calling me short?”

“You are you-height, which is too short to see over crowds. But I’m sure it’s perfect for other things.”

A day ago, she might’ve searched his words for double meaning or bandied back more banter. Instead, she simply gave him a rundown of what the girls’ parents had looked like.

“No,” said the little girl, lip stuck out, shaking her head. She tugged at Rowan’s hand in consternation. “My mommy’s jacket is dark blue, and Daddy was wearing a gray hat.”

“Well, you were certainly told,” said Gavin with a half smile.

Rowan ignored him completely. “You’re really observant,” she said to Iris.

“My teacher says I never miss anything.”

“Guess we’d better be on our best behavior, then,” said Gavin, chuckling and looking Rowan’s way, but she once again left him hanging.

Confusion passed over his face as he finally realized he was being ignored.

She wanted to shout that he should know damn well why she wasn’t in the mood, but there was a child present, and revelers reveling, so they moved on in awkward silence as she shook weariness out of her bones and banished tears that pricked the corners of her eyes.

Their search through the rides yielded no parents, and the little girl’s lip quivered. Gavin glanced between her and the giant wheel of spinning snowflakes overhead.

“Hey,” he said, leaning down, “have you been on the Ferris wheel yet?”

Iris looked up and shook her head. “We were gonna go, but…”

“We could get on and see if we can see them from high up.” Gavin glanced Rowan’s way, and she hesitated for only a moment before nodding. “You can see the whole festival from up there.”

The girl’s eyes lit up. “Yes, please!”

Cal was back in his place at the Ferris wheel, and after a quick rundown of the situation, he let them into the next open snowflake car. The Ferris wheel swept into motion with a delicious lurch of adrenaline.

To Rowan’s great relief, Iris had taken the middle, situating herself between Rowan and Gavin like a pint-sized period-novel chaperone.

The thought that they might have ended up mashed together, leg to leg, arm to arm, close enough to smell whether he’d shaved that morning, threatened to spin her thoughts back away from the task at hand.

As their car hit the crest of the wheel, the whole festival opened up before them, and then Elk Ridge beyond, and finally the darkening silhouette of the mountains as dusk deepened to claim the world for the night.

From that perspective, it was easier to see it for what it truly was—not a summation of individual parts but an interconnected whole.

It took her breath away, and she knew in that moment she would never submit to defeat, no matter what cheeky cards had to say about it.

There were only eight days left, though. Eight days to figure out how to one-up a corporate entity with enough money and power to open its mouth wide and swallow their community whole.

A tingle along the top of her shoulders alerted her to the fact that she was being watched.

She glanced to the side and caught Gavin staring, decoding every messy emotion her cheeks couldn’t hide.

But if she feared judgment, she didn’t find it, only compassion in his warm, dark eyes.

Her traitorous heart slammed against her rib cage, desperate to find meaning in the moment.

And then, for only a moment, it seemed like she was looking at a much younger Gavin—seated in that exact position in this exact Ferris wheel, eyes clearly trying to understand what they saw when they looked in her direction.

Whatever she’d been trying to hide from him then, she had failed equally to keep it inside. He rode out her resistance until she had no choice but to open wide.

It almost seemed like a memory, but that was impossible—surely they had never ridden a Ferris wheel together.

“Hey! There they are!” Iris’s voice came out in a screech, reminding Rowan that they were far from alone.

She traced the girl’s finger down to where two figures were frantically searching the crowd.

The little girl wiggled in her seat, shouting, “Mom! Dad!”

Gavin leaned over the edge of the ride, hands on either side of his mouth as he shouted, “Up here!”

But though they shouted, their voices were lost in the festive din. By the time the Ferris wheel came to a natural stop, Iris’s parents would have moved on. Gavin shifted tactics, trying to get Cal Arthur’s attention—to convince him to stop the ride prematurely.

They couldn’t trust it to happen in time, and Rowan knew what she needed to do. She inhaled deeply and reached for cords of magic. She fixed her gaze on the couple below, willing them to look up and notice the little girl dancing in the snowflake seat, waving her arms.

Softly so as not to draw attention, she murmured, “All eyes over here, all eyes on me. As I do will it, so mote it be.”

A Spell to Draw Attention.

For a single drawn-out moment, she thought it might not work, but in the next instant, everyone was looking at her—not simply the girl’s parents but the entire crowd at the base of the Ferris wheel. And Iris.

And Gavin.

Quiet had fallen over the crowd as they all tried to work out why they had looked at a random woman on the Ferris wheel. Jabbing her fingers at Iris, Rowan looked directly at the little girl’s parents and shouted, “We found your daughter! Iris! Look!”

That broke the spell. The world whirred back into motion.

Iris danced in her seat as her parents scrambled toward the base of the ride, and Cal slowed the wheel to a stop, reassuring the ride’s other passengers that they’d get another full and uninterrupted tilt.

Only Rowan sat glued to her seat, doing breathing exercises to moderate her response.

Everything’s fine. No one could possibly guess it was me. They lost nothing but a few seconds of attention. Everything is fine.

But however many times she repeated the reassurances to herself, her heart still raced.