Chapter 45
Juliet
I’ve been so anxious today, I forgot to eat. I haven’t been doing much eating all week anyway, despite Dad trying to pump me full. My water intake has been just as abysmal.
I figure once the Sleepy Holler event begins I’ll be chill, but as I wait for Dad to arrive, the space already full of residents from Autumn Ridge, my head is still fuzzy, and I’m finding it hard to focus.
Everything has to go perfect tonight. I’m not concerned about Archer pulling off a phenomenal event. But I am worried about my dad nitpicking everything in sight.
I stand near the back of the gathering so I can easily spot his arrival, though I can’t help but take in the sight of the transformed space in front of me first.
Five metal fire pits are spread around the space far enough apart to make ample room for guests. Haybales for sitting surround each fire with plaid blankets draped cozily atop the straw for guests to use at their leisure.
Pumpkins, carved and uncarved, border almost every square foot of the gathering space, while candles line an otherwise darkened pathway leading into a shadowy bed of trees.
Beyond the fires, a small, makeshift stage has been erected with a painted backdrop of a small town bordered by spooky woods.
Next to that, a few old-fashioned, wooden booths have been assembled for vendors to sell caramel apples, kettle corn, hot chocolate, apple cider, s’mores kits, and small bags of candy corn and peanuts.
Sadie is propped up in the center of them all with her maple goods booth. She sends a wave in my direction, which I readily return. She looks content, standing next to James and selling her own concoctions.
I’ll get that contentment myself, too. Right?
The smell of all the food should already be making my stomach growl, but when I spot Dad, my appetite vanishes again. He looks around, and I expect him to see me first, but when his eyes settle on the stables, I pause.
His expression shifts from suspicion to joy. I might even go so far as to say excited, which is the last expression I expect. He hasn’t been here since Archer’s updates, and he seems genuinely pleased with...
My thoughts stop as I follow his gaze, and understanding rushes over me. He’s not looking at the stables.
He’s looking at Genevieve Hazelton.
I didn’t see her come in, but she’s standing alone, rubbing the forelock of a brown and white horse as a few others come to greet her. She’s smiling to herself, her mouth moving, as she whispers to the animals.
Dad approaches slowly, hands tucked in his pockets, a nervous expression across his features. He moves beside her, facing away from me as she brightens in surprise.
I don’t realize it until now, but this is the first time I’ve seen them interact. Clearly, they weren’t planning on seeing each other here—but they do know each other. Standing a good foot apart, they focus on the horse in front of them as they carry on a quiet conversation.
Every once in a while, Dad shifts his footing, and I can capture a glimpse of his features as he speaks with her. He’s practically glowing, and she looks just as happy.
With Lisa, Dad has always been comfortable and happy, complimentary and willing to listen. But there’s a professionalism there, even if Lisa always tries to push the boundaries.
With Sharon, it’s the opposite. He joked and laughed in the hospital, and she laughed in return.
But...that was it. At the football game, there wasn’t a lot of flirtatious looks—though there was a mutual respect and interest in what the other had to say.
Theirs felt like more of a friendship than a romantic relationship.
But with Genevieve, sparks fly. The chemistry is palpable—the way she tucks her short hair behind her ear, how he leans in just slightly, their grins unfailing from the second they saw each other.
Neither Lisa nor Sharon is here, and I’m glad, only so I can observe these two further.
Unfortunately, the moment is short-lived. A minute later, Dad looks over his shoulder and meets my gaze before Genevieve does the same. This time, I’m the one to blush. Genevieve merely brightens again and waves at me across the way.
Dad doesn’t look embarrassed or flustered at all. Instead, he turns to say goodbye to Genevieve, then leaves her with the horses to join me—neither he nor Genevieve looking at each other again.
I’m at a loss. Why was he flustered with Sharon? And why did he choke on his water when I’d mentioned Genevieve?
“Hi, Dad,” I say as he reaches me. “You can finish your conversation. I’m in no rush.”
He shakes his head, his attention remaining on me. “I’m here to spend time with you, remember?”
And to see all of Archer’s hard work, but I keep that to myself. “You ready to have some fun?”
His features aren’t as bright or hopeful as they were with Genevieve, but he nods with a tight smile all the same.
It doesn’t take long for his attention to focus on the fire closest to us, then to the haybales nearby.
“You think that’s a hazard?” he asks.
I hook my arm through his, leading him farther into the space. “Come on, Dad. Relax. Archer has thought through everything.”
“So where is he? He couldn’t even welcome his guests?”
“He’s running the event. He can’t welcome every single person when he has everywhere else to be at the same time.”
He gives a little scoff, but I ignore it, pointing out all that Archer has improved before a small mic squeaks near the stage.
Archer’s deep voice travels towards us. “If you’d like to join us for a short rendition of “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow,” put on by Autumn Ridge High Drama Class, we’ll begin shortly. Thank you.”
I pull Dad forward, and we take a seat near the back as the crowd gathers on more hay bales lit by even more lights.
Archer introduces the play, and we enjoy the quarter-hour drama that ends up as entertaining as it is endearing. The high schoolers do a great job and receive a standing ovation.
“Thank y’all so much for coming out to support this event,” Archer says on the stage again.
“I hope it becomes a yearly tradition, along with our incredible festival.” He pauses for applause that Dad reluctantly and half-heartedly joins in.
“We’re also excited to share we’ll be having wagon rides this time on our Sleepy Holler Encounter, beginning with a mellow kiddie ride.
That does mean we’ll have a wait time of about twenty minutes between each encounter, so feel free to mingle, eat, and enjoy yourselves until it’s your turn for a ride. Above all, I hope y’all have fun.”
The crowd cheers again. Archer’s eyes sink into mine before he raises his hand in departure. I want to go on the encounter right after the kid’s ride, but Dad leans over to speak with May Carver. Their conversation lasts all of ten seconds before the Ednas interrupt next.
“Oh, look at you two together again,” Edna G. says, her eyes shifting between me and Dad. “As thick as thieves, just like usual.”
“Though I hear it won’t be like that for long,” Edna B. says with a conspiratorial glance.
“If the rumors are to be believed,” Edna G. agrees.
Dad doesn’t rise to the prompt. “How are you ladies doing? You’re looking as lovely as always.”
“Such a charmer,” Edna G. says with a wave of her skinny fingers. The firelight we stand nearby glints in her glasses. “We’re just happy to be here at such an exciting event.”
More like they’re happy to be here to look for more news about the people of Autumn Ridge.
“Aren’t we?” Edna B. asks, her boisterous voice blasting around them. “So delightful. Especially being around that cowboy. Mmm, mmm, mmm, I could just eat his accent right up!”
Dad doesn’t respond, his entire body rigid.
“We can’t be the only ones who think it,” Edna B. says, her gaze falling heavily on me. “You agree, don’t you, Juliet? A pretty little thing like you has got to have noticed him.”
“That’s probably why she’s here, Edna,” her friend returns. “Just like we are,” she adds not-so-quietly behind her hand.
“He is a treat,” Edna B. continues. “Come on, Juliet. Give us your opinion on the cowboy. We’ve heard he’s been paying special attention to you lately.”
Dad glances around, clearly seeking something else to distract him. But this is one conversation I now don’t mind speaking about with the Ednas now that I no longer have anything to hide.
“I’ll let you in on a little secret, ladies,” I say, leaning forward.
Their eyes widen like two hyenas circling their prey. “Yes, dear?” they say nearly in unison.
“I do think he’s eye candy,” I reply. “And we’re officially going out.”