The Almost Happily-Ever-After

They lost each other once... Now they have one more chance.

Every wedding has a happy ending—except for Alice Birmingham. She’s never forgiven herself for leaving the love of her life at the altar five years ago. Nate Graham hasn’t forgiven her, either. Now they must work together at Starlight Point amusement park, caught between the mistakes they made...and a love that refuses to stay buried in the past.

AMIE DENMAN is the author of more than a dozen contemporary romances full of humor and heart. A devoted traveler who grew up with parents who always kept a suitcase packed, she loves reading and writing books you could take on vacation. Amie believes everything is fun, especially wedding cake, show tunes, roller coasters and falling in love.

Also By Anna J. Stewart

Starlight Point Stories

Under the Boardwalk

Carousel Nights

Meet Me on the Midway

Until the Ride Stops

Carina Press

Her Lucky Catch

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Back to the Lake Breeze Hotel

Amie Denman

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08293-8

BACK TO THE LAKE BREEZE HOTEL

© 2018 Amie Denman

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

“Weddings are my business now.”

Nate laughed heartlessly, but there was so much chatter and music echoing in the room that he knew only Alice would hear. “Oh, the irony,” he said.

Alice’s cheeks colored deeper, and he felt a tiny stab of guilt for being so harsh. “It’s not as ironic as you think,” she protested. “I guess you could consider it a way to atone for what—”

“For what you did,” he said bitterly.

Alice shook her head. “For what I didn’t do.”

Nate wished he was anywhere else. He’d often wondered what he would say if he ever saw Alice again. There was no worse time and place than right here and now.

He just had to ask one question.

“Have you ever wondered what would have happened if you hadn’t walked out on our wedding?”

Alice’s shoulders dropped and she looked at the floor. “Every day for the last five years.”

Dear Reader,

Thank you for reading Back to the Lake Breeze Hotel and visiting Starlight Point. This is the fifth book of Starlight Point Stories, which also includes Under the Boardwalk, Carousel Nights, Meet Me on the Midway and Until the Ride Stops. From the first book, one of my favorite characters has been Virginia Hamilton. When her husband suddenly passes away at the beginning of the summer amusement park season, she has to be strong and make quick decisions in the best interests of her beloved Starlight Point and her three children. I’m so glad Virginia has her second chance at love five seasons later. I also love the second-chance theme of Alice and Nate meeting again after she left him at the altar five years ago. A lot can change in five years!

Writing the Starlight Point series has been an absolute joy for me, and I feel so attached to these characters and Starlight Point that I hate to let them go! I hope you’ll love this book. You can stay in touch with me at amiedenman.com, follow me on Twitter, @amiedenman, or send me an email at author@amiedenman.com.

Best wishes!

Amie Denman

To my wonderful friends of twenty-five years,

Fran, Chris and Connie. Fran gave me

the idea for this book, but you are all an inspiration to me! Thank you for

your loyalty, laughter and love.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Introduction

Dear Reader

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

EPILOGUE

Extract

About the Publisher

CHAPTER ONE

IF ALICE BIRMINGHAM could have custom-ordered weather, she would have requested exactly what she saw. Blue sky, temperature in the mid-seventies zone of perfection, a tiny breeze off the lake.

Planning an outdoor wedding at the end of August in Michigan was tempting fate because of late summer storms, but this ceremony was going to be all right. Alice brushed back a long strand of red hair and relaxed her shoulders.

“Are all the weddings you plan this perfect?” June Hamilton whispered, pausing to stand with Alice well behind the last row of seated guests. “I hope no one will mind if I stop and watch.”

Alice smiled. “You own one third of Starlight Point. I don’t think anyone is going to complain.”

White chairs gleamed in neat rows on the boardwalk. A flowered arch stretched gracefully over the heads of the groom, in a black tuxedo, and the bride, in an airy white gown. The top layer of organza on the bride’s skirt caught the breeze and floated for a moment. “I should have had you plan mine and Mel’s.”

Alice laughed softly and whispered, “You’ve been married several years, right?”

June nodded. “Almost three. And I still think his annoying habits are cute. Of course, I knew all his habits long before we got married because we met when I was four.”

“That’s a long engagement.”

“More like a long estrangement between meeting and getting married, but Starlight Point brought us back together.”

Growing up in nearby Bayside, Alice was well aware of the amusement park’s reputation for thrills of all kinds. With roller coasters piercing the sky, Lake Huron lapping at three sides of the peninsula, and good food and fun all summer long, Starlight Point was where everyone went to have a good time.

“You missed the best part,” Alice whispered to June as they stood side by side in the August sunshine. “The moment when the bride and groom first see each other and the groom looks as if he’s been hit by lightning.”

“In a good way, right?”

“Yes, if the wedding is meant to be. Now that overseeing weddings is in my job description, I’ve developed a system for determining if the marriages will last.”

June laughed quietly. “I know you’re organized, but doing a spreadsheet on the couple’s chances makes you sound like a bookie.”

“No spreadsheets, just anecdotal observation. A thunderstruck look on the groom’s face says a lot.”

“The silly, slack-muscled look of love,” June said. “We used to call that wonder-eyes when I was younger and worked here for the summer. All those summer romances...”

Alice knew many local kids who’d worked here for the summer and met friends and future spouses. She’d worked as a midway sweeper the summer she was seventeen. With a short broom and dustpan, she’d walked a dozen miles every day. It was tough on her feet and even worse for her fair skin, but she’d fallen in love with the amusement park.

Starlight Point had only changed a little in the past eight years. The Sea Devil ride and last year’s double coaster were new additions, but there’d been some losses, too.

She remembered seeing June’s father, Ford, walking the midway and greeting guests during her summer sweeping. The owner of Starlight Point had passed away about five years ago, a summer Alice would never forget for her own reasons.

“I love weddings,” June whispered to Alice as they watched the exchange of vows and rings from a distance. “All that sparkle, fancy dresses, dancing and cake.”

“It’s intoxicating,” Alice agreed. “But don’t you wonder what they think the next day when they wake up?”

“I hope they eat leftover wedding cake in bed,” June said. She sighed. “People should get married on this beach every day.”

“As your events planner, that would be totally fine with me. We could recruit engaged couples from all over Michigan and fly them in to get married right here for one substantial fee. I could write it up for the website—white sand beach, historic hotel, on-site wedding cake baker.”

“Augusta would love that,” June said, referring to her sister-in-law. Gus ran three bakeries at Starlight Point, serving up cookies and doughnuts to park patrons, and a flagship bakery in downtown Bayside that turned out gorgeous wedding cakes. “Not that she needs any more business.”

Alice did the mental math. She had already scheduled a wedding for almost every weekend through New Year’s Eve. It wasn’t what she’d signed on for when she landed the job of special events coordinator at Starlight Point, but if she had to embrace all the emotional and financial entanglements of weddings to keep her dream job, she’d keep her opinions to herself.

Mostly.

“And they walk down the aisle and boom, married perfection,” Alice whispered as the bride and groom kissed to the sound of applause and the five-piece orchestra burst into a wedding exit march.

“You have to love this,” June said.

“When I see the revenue coming in, I do. But now it’s showtime part two with the custom-ordered dream reception coming up. Have you seen the decorations in the rotunda?”

“No,” June said, “but judging from the gleam in your eye, I’m probably going to want to get divorced just so I can get married again.”

Alice chuckled. “I wouldn’t advise throwing away a good man when you’ve got one, but come with me anyway and see the lobby.”

They turned and headed for the historic Lake Breeze Hotel, perched right on the beach. In only moments, they walked through the wide glass doors.

Alice hadn’t been exaggerating about the dream reception. As they entered a fairyland, their heels clicked against the elegant wood floors in the six-story-tall rotunda. Shimmering tulle hung in strips from the central chandelier, and tables overflowing with candles and flowers circled the room. The bride had chosen pink with gold accents for her colors. The large circular room smelled of roses and lilies and glimmered with glass, candles, china and silverware.

Alice breathed in the effect. Too bad it was temporary. Weddings always went too fast, especially compared with the months of planning and preparation. And a wedding reception in the lobby of a working hotel had to be finite. Without a separate conference facility or hall, a reception snarled the hotel traffic. Alice’s staff had one hour to move in all the carefully prepared decorations. The afternoon dessert and champagne reception would last two hours—just enough time for toasts, pictures, cutting the four-tiered cake and dancing the traditional first dances.

After that, everything would go into storage and families with beach bags and sand between their toes would again traipse through the lobby on their way to the elevators. As a thank-you to hotel guests inconvenienced by the reception, Alice made sure any fresh flowers that were left when the event ended were made into bouquets and delivered to rooms with couples celebrating anniversaries or honeymoons. She even had waiters deliver elegant plated pieces of cake to guests waiting to check in at the front desk.

Alice knew how little things could add up, and big events were just a lot of little things packed into one small section of time and space. One mistake could screw up the whole thing. It was one of the many ways weddings, she thought, differed from marriages.

“I’m definitely divorcing Mel and starting over,” June said.

“Didn’t you have a beautiful wedding the first time?”

June smiled. “We did. It was a Christmas wedding in the ballroom. Red roses and evergreens, a six-tiered cake and a live band. I spent a lot of time teaching Mel to dance before the reception.”

Alice imagined those lessons were more fun than work, but she certainly admired June’s spirit of perfection. Weddings should be perfect, right down to the dance steps.

“But he’s still not as good a dancer as you, I’d bet.”

“After seven seasons on Broadway, I’m tough competition.”

The small orchestra that had played for the ceremony on the boardwalk came in and took their seats on the edge of the rotunda. They tuned their instruments and straightened sheet music on their stands.

In the two years Alice had coordinated special events for Starlight Point, she’d developed relationships with many local industry professionals. She was becoming a regular at the bridal shop that did expert and quick alterations. She had her own seat at the counter in Augusta’s downtown bakery where she could flip through a huge portfolio of wedding cakes. Alice knew all the members of the string quintet and had four Bayside ministers on speed dial.

Alice straightened the silverware on the cake table. “Do you regret giving up the stage and coming home?”

June shook her head. “Only a tiny bit once in a while. I gained so much more than I gave up. How about you? You still live at home with your parents. Do you regret never leaving Bayside?”

“No,” Alice said. She tugged a wrinkle out of a crisp white tablecloth. “Definitely, no.”

There were things she regretted, but location wasn’t one of them. Starlight Point was her dream job, bringing back happy memories of a time in her life when she thought she had it all figured out.

“Have you met our new public relations guy? He just started yesterday, and he’s got lots of experience with updating websites, photography and networking. He’s a local who just came back to the area,” June said. “Maybe you know each other.”

“I haven’t met him yet,” Alice said as she checked the time on her phone and switched it into camera mode.

“He’s supposed to come take pictures for the website, but if he doesn’t hurry he’ll miss the big entrance,” June said. “He already missed the wedding itself.”

Alice wanted to ask more about him and talk to June about how her department and his might work together, but time was tight. She walked to the glass lobby door and peered out. “They’re headed this way.”

She nodded to the leader of the orchestra and held up two fingers to signal he had two minutes before striking up a lively entrance piece. She and June faded to the edge of the room to wait for the bridal couple to sweep in with their family and friends. She was ready with her camera to capture the moment the bride saw the rotunda’s decorations. In a word, it was perfection.

* * *

“I LIKE THE way you’re jumping right into work,” Jack Hamilton told Nate as he dropped him off at the Lake Breeze Hotel. “I’m glad I finally talked my sisters into hiring someone to sell us year-round.”

“You make it sound cheap when you put it like that,” Nate said. “But thanks. I’m going to make sure there isn’t a person in Michigan or the entire Midwest who doesn’t know about the Starlight Point brand and want to be here on their next fifteen vacations.”

“You better get to the wedding on time,” Jack said.

“I wish I had that new camera I ordered yesterday.”

“First day on the job and you’re already spending money?”

“Wait until you see your new website. I promise it’ll be worth it.”

“Talk to my sister Evie about that,” Jack said. “The queen of the accounts.”

Nate got out of Jack’s car, shut the door and waved to his boss. He’d admired Jack from a distance throughout high school. And he wasn’t the only one. Everyone in Bayside knew the Hamiltons—the owners of the amusement park that put the whole area on the map and provided jobs for any local teenager willing to work.

When Nate had realized he’d have to come home to Bayside, he knew Starlight Point was the best and only place he could use his public relations experience.

As he dashed through the entrance of the hotel, he slid his hand into the pocket of his suit jacket to keep his smartphone from flying out. Cell phone pictures weren’t the best, but his first project for the coming week was to add some life to Starlight Point’s utilitarian website, so he couldn’t wait for the wedding photographer’s images.

The special events page needed pictures to go with the list of packages available. He glanced around the rotunda as he entered from the back of the hotel. This couple had gone all out. And he knew from studying the wedding packages available that it was just as expensive as it looked.

Whatever makes people happy. He was in the business of making things look good, and whether or not this bride and groom made it to their first anniversary was none of his concern. For today, it was perfection, and the company website would reflect that image like sunshine off a glass window.

He got ready with his cell phone, focusing on the door where everyone seemed to be waiting for the bride and groom to make a splashy entrance. June Hamilton was talking with an auburn-haired woman whose back was to him. She must be the wedding planner. Good. He needed to make friends fast if he wanted to impress the Hamiltons and make them glad they’d created a new position.

Realizing they had a better vantage point for viewing the arriving couple, Nate approached June and the other woman. He stepped behind them and said, “Hello, June. I’m glad I made it in time to get a picture. Wow, this place is—”

The red-haired woman turned around and his words disappeared. He sucked in a breath.

Alice Birmingham.

He dropped his phone and the glass screen cracked into an expensive spiderweb. While bending to pick it up, he completely missed the grand entrance of the couple and straightened in time to see Alice looking at the picture on her phone with a satisfied smile.

June leaned over to look at Alice’s phone. “You got a good one,” she commented. “Hi, Nate. I’m sure Alice will share it with you. She’s just as invested in special events here as you are.”

Alice stared at Nate and raised her eyebrow. It was only a slight consolation to notice her flushed cheeks. Was she as shocked as he was?

“Sorry,” June said. “I should introduce you two. Alice Birmingham, I’d like you to meet Nate Graham. You’ll be working together a lot now that Starlight Point is going big on PR and special events.”

Nate extended his hand automatically and tried to play it cool in front of his new employer. He always played it cool, just as expected from a public relations expert.

While they shook hands, Nate was aware of June’s interested stare. The Hamiltons were all smart, perceptive people, and it wouldn’t be easy to fake a cordial relationship with Alice for long. Why, in the midst of a full-blown wedding and on his second day of a job he needed did Alice have to walk back into his life? He’d been prepared to see people from his past when he came home to Bayside. In most cases, it would be a welcome benefit to returning home so he could be the son his dad needed right now. But Alice?

“Have you two met before?” June asked.

“Yes,” Alice said.

“No,” Nate said at the same time.

June crossed her arms and glanced from one to the other. “Okay, so maybe.”

“Bayside is a small town,” Alice said.

Nate couldn’t help noticing that five years had hardly changed Alice. She still had cream-colored skin and auburn hair that waved away from her face. Petite and slender, she looked as if she could be twenty, not the twenty-seven he knew her to be. Despite her delicate beauty, there was steel underneath. He’d learned that the hard way.

“When I stopped by the wedding,” June said, “I was on my way to wardrobe. I’m checking on the costumes for the fall festival. I hope our head seamstress, Gloria, is still talking to me after all I’ve asked her to do. Maybe I can meet with both of you on Monday to talk about fall festival details.” June wrinkled her nose and tilted her head. “Even if you two only maybe know each other.”

Nate nodded and Alice did the same.

“Those weekends are coming up fast and we have a lot to discuss,” June added. She stayed a moment more as if she had something else to say, but then she turned and left the rotunda. Nate was relieved to see her go, but his nerves still trembled, his pulse on high alert.

The orchestra played “Pachelbel’s Canon in D” as the bride and groom made a sweep of the room arm in arm, greeting their guests. Everything smelled like flowers and cake, but Nate felt nothing but sick misery. Each wedding he’d attended over the past five years, as his friends had gotten married one by one, had helped toughen his defenses when it came to weddings, but he still worked to shape his expression into PR neutral.

Alice pointed toward the cracked phone in his hand. “That’s not a great beginning.”

“You’re not exactly in a position to lecture me about beginnings.”

“I’m not lecturing you,” Alice said. “June wasn’t kidding when she said we’d be working together. My office is right across the hall from yours.”

“You’re not serious.”

Alice looked away and then returned her gaze to him. She bit her lip. “I’m serious about a lot of things.”

“But not marriage.”

“Weddings are my business now. It goes with the special events territory at Starlight Point.”

Nate laughed heartlessly, but there was so much chatter and music echoing in the room that only Alice would hear it. “Oh, the irony.”

Her cheeks colored deeper, and Nate felt a tiny stab of guilt for being so harsh. Not to mention the fact that harassing a beautiful woman at a fairy-tale wedding would not look good for him or Starlight Point.

“It’s not as ironic as you think,” she protested. “I guess you could consider it a way to atone for what—”

“For what you did,” he said bitterly.

Alice shook her head. “For what I didn’t do.”

Nate wished he was anywhere else. He’d often wondered what he would say if he ever saw Alice again. There was no worse time and place for this reunion than the present. He should shut his mouth and leave if he wanted to keep his emotions together and keep his job. He’d be no good to himself or his dad if he got fired on his second day working for Starlight Point.

He just had to ask one question.

“Have you ever wondered what would have happened if you hadn’t walked out on our wedding?”

Alice’s shoulders dropped and she looked at the floor. “Every day for the last five years.”

Without another word, Nate spun and retreated through the lobby, walking as fast as he could without running and making a spectacle of himself.

CHAPTER TWO

IN THE FIVE workdays since the glorious wedding on the beach, Alice had refreshed the special events webpage ten times a day, hoping to see the pictures she had emailed to Nate Graham from her phone. She vaguely wondered if he had replaced his phone or had the screen repaired, but that was not her problem. She had plenty of problems of her own to worry about, such as making sure her events were perfect and the revenue generated was enough to ensure she kept her job.

In addition to refreshing the website, she had replayed her meeting with Nate. Of all people...Nate Graham. Why was he back in Bayside? And did she really have to plan and publicize weddings side by side with him? The fates could not have doled out a more suitable punishment if the universe was looking to mess with her perfectly ordered life.

On Friday afternoon, the previous weekend’s wedding pictures finally appeared along with text describing the venue, flowers, music and food. There was an accurate description of the bride’s gown, the flowered arch on the boardwalk, the size of the party, the cake and the new couple’s first song. Of course it was accurate. Alice had written it herself and emailed it to Nate, who now had full control of Starlight Point’s webpage and social media. Her jaw tightened when she got to the part explaining that the “staff” of Starlight Point had coordinated the event.

“I’m the staff,” she muttered to herself. Along with some dedicated helpers, special events sat squarely on Alice’s shoulders. Yes, there were many Starlight Point employees she called upon to set up chairs and serve food and drinks, but all the planning and worrying fell to her.

Virginia Hamilton was her right-hand woman these days. Retired, but still actively involved and interested in the amusement park she and her late husband had run for forty years, Virginia enjoyed being involved with special events. She wanted a job that would have her out and about in the parks and would be different every day.

While Virginia and Alice were staying busy bringing in people and revenue with their special events, they’d also been planning for the fall festival weekends. It was Alice’s brainchild and a large part of the reason Starlight Point had hired her. She also suspected it was a large part of the reason they had decided to hire a full-time PR person.

“Great,” she said as she dug through her filing cabinet. “I probably got him that job and now I have to work with him.”

“Sandwiches,” the office assistant, Haley, announced. “There was a line at the employee cafeteria. Sorry about the wait.”

Haley was a fresh-faced eighteen-year-old working her last summer job before going off to college. She showed up early every day—even though Alice had told her it wasn’t necessary—and was always happy to help. Her enthusiasm reminded Alice of being just out of high school when it seemed everything was possible.

“Thanks,” Alice said. “I didn’t mind the wait, but now that I think about food, I’m pretty hungry.”

Haley pulled one foil-wrapped sandwich out of the bag and put it on Alice’s desk. “Eat it before it gets cold.”

“In a minute. I just have to find some stuff I stashed in this filing cabinet—plans for the fall festival weekends. Those start next weekend, and I’m pretty sure we’re going to need twenty-five-hour days to get everything ready.”

“You’ll be ready. I’ve seen you pull off some amazing things this summer.”

“Thanks.” I can use all the encouragement I can get.

Haley lingered in the doorway, combing her fingers through her bangs and frowning. “I’m thinking of getting blond highlights because I’m tired of my one-color hair. What do you think?”

Alice closed the filing drawer. “No way. If you just get highlights on top of your dark hair, you’ll look like a baby skunk.”

“Oh,” the younger girl said, her smile fading.

“A very cute baby skunk,” Alice said quickly. “But if you want a change, I think you should go with layers.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Haley said.

“Or a Starlight Point tattoo,” Alice said, grinning. “Someplace really obvious.”

Haley shook her head. “Very funny.”

“You asked. I think, in your heart, you probably thought it was a bad idea before you even heard my opinion.”

“At least I know that if I do something drastic and it looks awful, I’m sure you would tell me the truth.”

“I would. Unless it’s a tattoo—those are permanent. I’d tell you the truth if it was something you could fix.”

Haley smiled and crossed the hall to deliver Nate’s lunch. She and Nate laughed and talked for a while before Haley finally said goodbye. Of course she was trying to make a good impression on Nate—she wanted to become a public relations media consultant. And Nate was charming and pleasant when he wanted to be. Because he worked in PR, he knew how to make things look and sound good.

And, she had to admit, he still looked good, unchanged by the years except for a little more muscle and maturity in his expression. Tall with dark hair and eyes, he could easily win people over, which meant they could be working together a long, long time. There was no way to avoid the problem, and she should be honest with herself, march across the hall and...say something to Nate.

Instead, she sighed, squirted some sanitizer on her hands and sat down at her desk to eat. Maybe lunch would fuel her up to face what she had to. She rolled the sandwich over and read the name written in black marker on the package. Nate.

Alice groaned and closed her eyes. She could eat Nate’s sandwich, which, according to the wrapper, was ham, mustard and lettuce. That would mean giving up her favorite: turkey, provolone and pickles. Or she could bravely march across the hallway and trade with him.

“I believe this is yours.”

She dropped the sandwich and looked up. Nate leaned on her office door, a sandwich in his hand. He had beaten her to it, and she couldn’t think of a thing to say.

Instead of speaking, Alice held up the item he’d come for. He crossed her small office, took his sandwich and laid hers in front of her without a word.

“Thank you,” she said.

Nate was almost to the door, but he paused and half turned. “You’re welcome. I know you hate mustard.”

He slipped into the hallway, leaving her no chance to respond. It was just mustard, of course, but the fact he remembered... That was going to make it twice as hard to work with the man she’d chosen not to marry only hours before their own wedding.

* * *

“I USED TO love pumpkin pie,” Henry said. “But I don’t think I can ever enjoy it again after this.”

Virginia laughed. “It’s not so bad. If we take enough painkillers tonight, we’ll live to do this all over again tomorrow.”

She took a small pumpkin from a wagon and tossed it to Henry. He walked to a flowerbed, glanced at a color-coded map and placed it beside a green squash.

Nearby, the midway fountain had been transformed into an autumn display of colors and textures. All summer long, refreshing spray from the light blue splash pad tempted children to play in the water and cooled the air for people passing by. The water was turned off for the fall festival, though, and a giant inflatable pumpkin crouched over the area. Children could run through the pumpkin’s grinning mouth while their parents rested on the benches circling it.

In addition to the hay bales and pumpkins artfully placed around the seating area, Virginia and Henry were laying out various sizes and colors of pumpkins and squash in the flowerbed. When completed, the vegetables would create a fall landscape scene, but it took attention to detail. It reminded Virginia of the paint-by-number projects she’d done with her children during long, snowy Michigan winters.

“I better look at the diagram again,” Henry said. “I don’t want our artwork to look like a couple of teenagers dashed it together so they could quit early.”

“Nothing against the kids,” Virginia said, “but old age does have its advantages.”

Henry stepped close and stood over Virginia, blocking the sun and smiling down at her. Small wrinkles around his eyes were accentuated by the smile, and she noticed one white hair mixed with his blond eyebrows.

“We are not old,” he said. “Especially not you.”

“Fifty-seven earlier this summer,” Virginia said. Henry stood so close she could smell his soap. It was clean and practical, just like the rest of him. He had a lean, straight build and walked with confidence, as if he were a man accustomed to responsibility. She’d noticed, though, that he was happy helping out however he could, and he seemed to take pride in executing the fall displays exactly as depicted on the directions. His skill was probably a result of following flight diagrams and paying attention to detail. It was also probably a relief, she thought, to fuss over gourds instead of turbulence after years of being responsible for hundreds and thousands of lives.

She’d felt a similar relief when she handed over Starlight Point to her children Jack, June and Evie. A grieving and shocked widow at the time, she hadn’t thought she could put one more thing on her plate, and she was confident her children were stronger than she was. In the five summers since her beloved Ford had succumbed to a heart attack, she’d seen for certain the strength of her three children.

And her own strength.

“I’m just a little closer to sixty than you are,” Henry said, drawing her back into their conversation. “But I feel like eighty after setting out straw bales and lifting pumpkins all day yesterday.”

“Is it still better than sitting in the cockpit of a plane?”

Henry ran a hand through his hair and looked down the midway as if he were considering the question. Virginia wondered if he missed his old job now that he was retired. Without a family, did he feel lonely? She’d felt as if she’d been set adrift when Ford died, but she still had her children to give her a reason to get out of bed.

“Most days, yes. It’s nice not worrying about hijackers, lightning and schedules.”

“We have lightning and schedules here,” Virginia said.

“So I guess I feel right at home,” he replied, smiling. “Just don’t bring in any hijackers for my benefit.”

Virginia laid a paper copy of the decoration placement diagram on the wagon’s wood floor and smoothed it with both hands. “Alice saw to every detail,” she said.

Henry leaned over her shoulder to view the diagram, and Virginia felt the warmth from his body. There was a touch of autumn in the air, just enough to make his warmth welcome. It had been a long time since she’d thought about men and heat in the same sentence. Or noticed what a man smelled like. Or wondered if one found her attractive.

“Mom.”

Virginia turned so quickly she almost knocked Henry off his feet. Evie, blond ponytail making her look as if she were twelve and not twenty-five, handed a bottle of cold water to her and Henry. “I could get someone else to do all this physical labor.”

Virginia realized her heart was racing. Was it the new awareness of Henry, a man with whom she’d worked all summer? Or was it this new consciousness being interrupted by her daughter—and making her feel guilty?

There was no reason she should feel guilty.

“You mean someone younger?” she asked Evie, keeping her tone light and playful.

Evie laughed. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Yes, it was.”

“Maybe a little. Can I help it that I love my mother?” Evie put an arm around Virginia’s shoulders, which increased her distance from Henry. He stepped back, eyes on the ground. “And, besides,” Evie continued. “I don’t want you to wear yourself out. You have to save energy for Gladys.”

Virginia smiled at the thought of her new labrador.

Henry removed the cap from his water bottle and took a long drink. “Who’s Gladys?”

“My new dog.”

“New?” Henry asked.

“I had a dog named Betty for years,” Virginia said.

“Roughly one hundred years,” Evie added.

“She wasn’t that old,” Virginia protested, and then she laughed when Evie waggled her eyebrows at Henry. “Fine, she was fourteen but she was wonderful.”

Evie straightened her smirk into a neutral expression. “She had many wonderful qualities in addition to her less wonderful ones.”

“Don’t we all?” Henry asked. “So is your new dog—?”

“Gladys,” Virginia supplied.

“Gladys. Is she a puppy?”

Virginia shook her head. “She’s about four or five.” She’d given serious thought to a litter of puppies curled into a ball at the humane society, but then Gladys had stolen her heart.

A chocolate lab with a few years under her belt, her soulful eyes had looked deep into Virginia’s own and forged a connection. Virginia had signed the paperwork immediately and driven to her small house on the old road adjoining Starlight Point, a warm nose on her shoulder the whole way. It was nice having another living soul in the house again after being alone so long. In the few days they’d been together, she’d taken Gladys for a morning walk through Starlight Point before it opened for the day, two romps on the beachs and one trip to the pet-friendly supply store in Bayside.

“And she was already saddled with the name Gladys,” Evie said. “Mom didn’t pick that one.”

“You could probably change it,” Henry said. “Maybe to something that rhymes with Gladys so it doesn’t confuse her.” Virginia and Evie swung their heads in unison to stare at Henry and he held up both hands. “Don’t ask me to think of something that rhymes with that.”

“Already tried it. My brother thought of a few suggestions, but we had to reject them.”

“I’ll use my imagination,” Henry said. “I’ve never had a dog, couldn’t have one because I was never home. Wouldn’t have been fair.”

Virginia noticed her daughter’s look of confusion and it occurred to her that she knew a substantial lot about Henry, but Evie did not. Virginia and Henry had worked together most of the summer, grilling hot dogs on the boardwalk, handing out prizes at employee game nights and manning a table at a season pass holder appreciation night. He’d shared stories of his early years flying for the air force and then his twenty-five-year career as a commercial airline pilot. While Virginia had devoted her life to Starlight Point, Henry had been all over the world.

“Why weren’t you ever home?” Evie asked.

Virginia could have answered the question for him, but she listened instead while he gave Evie an account of his years in the air, his retirement and his move home to Bayside where he kept busy working at Starlight Point.

“And what do you do when you’re not judging beautiful baby contests and keeping my mother out of trouble?” Evie asked.

“Nothing,” Henry joked. “That’s a full-time job. But I do have a 1960 Chevy pickup I’m restoring. It’s how I avoid fixing the porch door at my house. I hate doing home improvements.”

“Which is why I live in a condo,” Evie said. “I see now why you’ve never had a dog, and you probably never found time to have a dozen children either.”

“No children,” Henry said. “My brother and sister have kids and grandkids now, so I’ve enjoyed being an uncle. I show up with presents on special occasions, and I’ve been lucky enough to give free plane tickets to my nieces and nephews for their honeymoons. I can’t complain.”

Virginia thought of her honeymoon with Ford more than thirty years earlier. He’d sunk all his money into buying Starlight Point from a previous owner who’d fallen on difficult times, so their honeymoon did not involve a flight to a tropical paradise. They’d honeymooned right in the Lake Breeze Hotel. It had been substantially renovated just recently, but she still thought of her late husband when she walked through the doors into the lobby. He’d loved that hotel, just as he’d loved Starlight Point.

She hoped he’d be happy if he could somehow see it now under the expert guidance of their children. They’d built a marina, restored the theaters and hotel and added numerous special events such as the fall festival unfolding around them right now.

“Thanks for the water,” Henry told Evie. “I’ll get back to work.”

As Henry picked up two pumpkins and walked over to one of the displays to tuck them in, Virginia took a close look at her youngest daughter. Her cheeks were pink and eyes bright. It was a mild autumn day, but not warm enough to bring color to Evie’s cheeks.

“I have to tell you something,” she said quietly once Henry was out of earshot.

Virginia guessed the news, but she let her daughter continue.

“I’m pregnant,” Evie announced. Her feet practically danced on the pavement when she said it. Virginia pulled her close as tears sprang to her eyes.

“Oh, honey, I’m so happy!”

“We are, too. Due in March. It’s still early, but I had to tell you first before everyone else finds out.”

“That should be in about fifteen minutes,” Virginia said. “And how are you feeling? Are you okay?”

“Great,” Evie said. “A little yucky this morning before I got going, but I feel fine as long as I keep moving and focused.”

“You’ll get to take a nice break when this place closes. Although not as long as usual with the fall and winter events going on.”

“I’m worried about being a mom and running this place,” Evie confided. “Jack and June have done it, though, so I hope it’ll be okay.”

“It’ll be better than okay,” Virginia said. “Remember, you have help. And you’ll have a beautiful son or daughter by next summer.” She hugged her daughter again, unwilling to let her go for another moment.

“I should get back to the office,” Evie said. “And I’ll see if I can find June on my way there.”

“Let’s have a celebration dinner tonight,” Virginia said. “My place—and don’t worry, I’ll order something instead of cooking.”

“I’d love that. And Scott will be very happy you’re not risking a kitchen fire. You know what a worrier he is.”

Virginia watched Evie walk away, her thoughts miles from the pumpkins she was supposed to be helping Henry arrange. She’d been so happy when Evie found true love with the new fire chief at Starlight Point. Scott and his sister Caroline had become part of their family, and Virginia was overjoyed to have more Christmas presents to buy every year.

Henry’s shoe scraped on concrete behind her, interrupting her thoughts about buying nursery gifts for Evie and Scott. She hoped to know by December whether to put pink or blue presents under the tree.

“Everything okay?” Henry asked.

Virginia turned to him and nodded, unashamed of the tears in her eyes. “Family announcement,” she said.

“None of my business,” Henry said, “but I hope it’s good news.”

Virginia almost felt hurt that Henry thought it was none of his business. They’d become friends, she thought, with every event they’d helped put together. She wouldn’t hesitate to share her good news with him—but did he consider her a friend or an employer?

A friend, she hoped. It would be public knowledge by noon the next day, and she felt no qualms sharing the excitement. She nodded. “The best kind. I’m going to have another grandchild in the spring.”

Henry gave her a quick, friendly hug. “Congratulations!”

“Thanks.”

Virginia felt strangely lonely when Henry released her and went back to selecting pumpkins from the pile on the wagon. He may not know what it felt like to have children and grandchildren of his own, but it had still been nice to have someone to share the joy with. She wished Ford were still here. After all, this was his grandchild, too. Pain squeezed her heart when she thought about Ford and how he would never see his grandchildren, but she swallowed the thought. Looking down the sunny midway at the roller coasters and familiar sights of Starlight Point, she knew this, too, was Ford’s legacy.

And she was lucky. He’d left her so much in their three children and their shared decades of happiness. She took a deep breath. Today was a day for celebration.

“Try this one,” Virginia said cheerfully, tossing a small orange pie pumpkin to Henry.

He caught it before it went sailing over his shoulder, a wide smile lighting his face.

CHAPTER THREE

NATE PASTED A smile on his face and shook hands with the photographer and writer. The Bayside Times wanted a story on the fall festival weekends because anything involving Starlight Point was big local news. Even bigger was the fact that the Point had never stayed open past Labor Day weekend.

“I hope you have your walking shoes on,” Nate said. “In my three weeks on the job here, I’ve probably logged three hundred miles.”

He had already replaced his expensive leather shoes from his previous job with a less flashy but much more comfortable pair of black walking shoes. He’d hated giving in and chipping away at his professional veneer, but Starlight Point had long concrete midways and long beautiful beaches. The shoes were a small concession for survival.

Many nights after running his father to chemotherapy or picking up dinner for both of them, Nate’s feet still ached despite the comfortable shoes.

He’d arranged to meet the reporters at the front gate the day before the bonus weekends opened. Fall decorations were in place, but the haunted houses slated for the back of the park wouldn’t open until the first of October. Despite his lack of involvement with the planning—Alice was behind all that—he already felt ownership in everything at the Point. His contribution to the company’s success was the top one inch, the glossy surface that could make or break a good impression.

“Any place you’d like to start?” Nate asked.

“We want to run this in tomorrow’s paper, so let’s see as much as we can before lunch so we can get back to the office and write it up,” the reporter, Bob, said.

Nate stood by while the photographer, Jason, took pictures of the front gates, where scarecrows, pumpkins and bales of straw were arranged. Even the tall letters spelling out the name of the park were festive. A scarecrow replaced the letter L in Starlight and a ghost peeked out from the letter O in Point. Orange and purple lights chased across the welcome marquee instead of the usual red and blue ones.

The pictures were guaranteed to convey the right message. Even the sunshine cooperated as if it were on Nate’s PR payroll. There were no people with unpredictable expressions to throw a wild card into this story, just artful but inanimate objects that were easily controlled.

“Looks like you’re ready,” Bob commented. “Any projections on attendance figures? I bet the owners are banking on this paying off.”

Nate smiled. “Starlight Point considers itself an important part of the community and is excited to extend the season and welcome guests. Season pass holders will continue to get in free, and we hope they bring their friends and families for fall fun.”

The reporter cocked his head and grinned. “Sounds like the official company line instead of a hard answer.”

“It is. You know we don’t release numbers,” Nate continued. “Starlight Point is about the experience people have, and that’s tough to quantify.” He had researched the last five years of press releases and articles in local papers and magazines devoted to amusement parks and tourism in the area, so he knew the company position and agreed with it. “But if you come back this weekend, you may see for yourself how many people are here.”

“Plan to,” Jason said. “My kids love this place.”

The lone security guard at the front entrance held open one of the gates between the turnstiles while the group went through. In addition to a colorful spread of pumpkins and fall decorations, the midway carousel greeted them with skeletons affixed to every third horse in the outside row.

“Nice,” Jason said, setting up a shot of a whimsical skeleton wearing a Starlight Point ball cap with its bony fingers wrapped around the brass pole. “Love the ghost riders.” Halloween lite, Nate thought. That was a strategy he could respect.

“Plenty more decorations and thrills this way,” Nate said. He led them up onto the cable car platform, where guests would board the cars and ride to the other end of the midway. “The ride’s not operating today,” Nate continued, “but from here, you can see all the decorations down the midway. We’ve gone all out making this place an autumn extravaganza.”

The group stood at the edge of the platform where they could see that the flower gardens down the midway had been replaced with displays meant to be enjoyed from the air. The largest circular garden just a short distance away used orange and white pumpkins to create a picture of a grinning skull. From the ground, it would look like piles of pumpkins. The trick is in the perspective.

“I’ll tell you a secret,” Nate said, smiling. “Trade secret we’d rather you didn’t print.” He paused as if he was about to reveal that the genuine elephant ears came frozen or the live show performers were only lip syncing. He had their attention and relished it for a moment. Reporters, he thought, were a necessary evil. “It’s the squirrels. They’re cute, but they seem to believe we’ve set out a banquet of autumn produce for them. We’ve already had to replace dozens of pumpkins when squirrels chewed holes in the top. We may have to hire a teenager to be full-time squirrel patrol.”

“Lousy resume builder,” the photographer commented. “I’d hate to see that on a job application.”

As they stood on the platform with a full view of the midway, Nate saw Alice leave the corporate office with two men. He knew it was her, even from a distance, because her auburn hair caught the autumn sunshine. She also wore a pink dress he’d seen her wear at least once before. A memory of her wearing a pink prom dress while her parents snapped dozens of pictures of them raced, unwelcome, through his mind. He was glad he’d never seen her in her wedding dress because an image like that would be harder to suppress.

Where was she going with those two men? Nate tried to remember what was on the special events and weddings calendar. He controlled the company website, blog and calendars. Making himself indispensable and forging a permanent career—no matter what happened with his father—had been his goal when he’d first returned home. And then he’d found Alice right in the middle of his nice neat plan.

Aside from making sure news of Starlight Point got reported on social media, news outlets and the corporate website, he tried not to overlap or get involved with Alice. It was better that way, for both of them. Not that he owed her any favors. His goal was to protect himself, not spare her. He knew she was capable of taking care of herself.

“Ready to see the food stands and their fall theming?” Nate asked, anxious to shift his thoughts back to his job.

“Sure.” The photographer put the lens cap on his camera and both men followed Nate down the steps of the cable car platform. They spent the next half hour checking out the menu boards for the food vendors, which included pumpkin pie and ghost-shaped cookies at Augusta’s Midway Bakery, and spiced apple cider at Hank’s Hot Dogs. At Tosha’s Ice Cream stand, the reporter looked skeptically at the fall offerings. “Cinnamon squash ice cream?” he asked.

“I haven’t tried it yet,” Nate confessed. “I may stick with the pumpkin pie and apple fritters at the bakery.”

He led the reporter and photographer down the midway, past the Sea Devil roller coaster and the new double coaster that had opened at the beginning of the season. The Shooting Star and Super Star combined a kiddie coaster track winding through and alongside a wild coaster for brave riders meeting the taller height requirement.

Nate had been out of the area when it opened, but he’d seen the media reports. Although it was a risk for the park to invest so much money in an unusual coaster, it had paid off in rider numbers and increased daily ticket sales—even though those numbers stayed in the corporate office building.

Starlight Point was on a roll, and remaining open throughout the fall weekends and then again for Christmas weekends was one sign of their fiscal bravery. Alice had talked them into the bold plan, information Jack had shared with Nate in his first week on the job.

Funny how a woman who wouldn’t go through with her own life-altering event managed to talk the three Hamilton siblings into taking a massive risk with their family legacy. It wasn’t his decision what the Hamiltons chose to do, but the fall and winter weekends were the reason he had something to tell the media. Public relations, he thought, were a whole lot less complicated than private ones.

Near the Wonderful West Railroad Station, Nate had set up a family and friends picture zone. It was an idea he’d borrowed from his last job, at a large amusement park a thousand miles away. Even though he’d never thought he’d come home and work locally, he wasn’t coming home empty-handed.

Seeing the photo spot set up with hay bales for families to sit on surrounded by bright orange pumpkins reminded him of a family photo taken when he was eight, his sister was eleven and his mother was alive. His family had sat on hay bales at a local apple farm and had their picture taken. Nate had a copy of that picture on his desk in his office. If only I could go back in time.

As Nate and his group crossed the train tracks and entered the Western Trail, the decorations shifted from cheerful pumpkins and mazes made of straw bales to spiderwebs and glaring scarecrows. The haunted houses and spooky trails were planned for the back of the park so parents of young children would have no trouble avoiding the scary parts if they chose. Teenagers and adults who wanted to appear brave in front of their friends could bypass children’s games and experience the fall celebration with a much higher thrill rating.

Bats swung from trees, spiderwebs covered the buildings on the Western Trail, and an arch with a creepy skull with red glowing eyes welcomed them to the Dark Trail of the Undead. Eerie music played even though the park wasn’t open.

“Not sure I like this,” Bob said.

“I know what you mean. It’s going to be blood-chilling and definitely not for everyone,” Nate said. He shuddered.

“Are you kidding?” the photographer asked. “This is the best part. I’m getting a babysitter and coming back here with my wife as soon as the haunted houses open for real.”

“You won’t be disappointed.” Nate led them down the trail, pausing when the photographer lagged behind to take pictures. “You’ll see the carousel in the Wonderful West is in the process of being transformed, and I’ll give you a sneak preview outside the shooting gallery, which will be a haunted house.”

“Slow down so I can get a candid picture of you showing us around. It would be great if you’d look scared,” Jason said.

Nate controlled his expression and managed a smile. No way.

“It’s not about me. It’s about our guests,” he said. He turned and resolved to keep his face out of the photographer’s lens. He’d rather be the one controlling the news.

As they passed over a small bridge in the Wonderful West and approached the old-fashioned western-themed carousel, Nate saw a flash of pink among the carousel horses. He herded his group that way, not sure if it was the best or worst plan. Maybe Alice would take Mr. Camera-Happy off his hands. No matter his feelings about her, she was clearly a far more attractive subject than he was.

She stood between two carousel horses, chatting easily with a couple of men who must be from the haunted house production company. Not exactly corporate types, the men wore faded jeans and company T-shirts. One had a demented clown tattoo on his arm and the other had a week’s worth of beard.

Starlight Point was hiring them for their talent, not their personal image.

Alice looked up and saw Nate, and her smile faltered for a moment. Then it flashed back. Nate considered making an excuse and racing in the other direction, but he had to be around her sometime. Might as well take this opportunity to practice appearing to have a cordial relationship.

Appearances, as any PR specialist knew, were a powerful moderator of behavior. And he needed all the help he could get.

* * *

“NATE,” ALICE SAID, stepping down from the platform of the carousel. “I’m glad your group ran into mine this morning.”

She juggled her bag and a pile of papers and extended a hand to the reporter and photographer from the Bayside Times. “Alice Birmingham, special events coordinator for Starlight Point,” she said. “I believe we’ve met before, but it’s always nice to welcome the local press.” Why hadn’t Nate told her he was bringing in reporters? She would have prepared statements for them with details about the special fall events she’d spent the early half of the year planning.

She smiled toward Nate with raised eyebrows as if to say, You can try shutting me out, but we work for the same team.

“We’re getting a tour of the decorations and games for the fall festival,” Bob said.

“Well then, you haven’t seen the half of it. These gentlemen are with the haunted house production company.” She introduced everyone and waited for the handshaking to finish. “We decided to hire professionals to set up our haunted houses because this is the first time Starlight Point has attempted something like this. We want to get it right and scare the stuffing out of our guests.”

“That’s where we come in,” the bearded man said. “People who walk in to our haunted houses tend to run out. Strangely, they get right back in line to do it again.” He shrugged. “Fearless people are our bread and butter.”

“So what kind of magic are you working here?” Bob asked.

The man from the haunted house company glanced at Alice. “How much do you want me to say?”

She smiled. “The truth, but not the whole truth. Just enough for an article that will make people wish these haunted houses were opening now instead of in a month.”

While the fright designer talked with the reporters and gave them an overview of the haunted carousel and the transformation of the arcade building, Alice moved closer to Nate and whispered, “How is your tour going?”

“Fine,” he said, not even looking at her.

So much for being on the same team.

“My meeting is also going well. Thanks for asking,” she said quietly. She waited for his reaction, but he didn’t give her a thing. This was going to be hard.

“These guys have terrifying minds,” she continued, undaunted by Nate’s stone face. “Exactly what we need for this project.”

“I’m sure you’re right.”

“Don’t you like haunted houses?” She remembered going through one with him while they were still in high school. They’d held each other close and laughed all the way through it. Had he liked it at the time or had he pretended to for her sake?

Nate shook his head just enough for Alice to notice. “I think real life is frightening enough most of the time.”

His tone implied that she was one of those frightening things. Her cheeks heated and the sensation radiated down her neck. With her auburn hair and pink dress, she was afraid she’d look like a boiled blushing lobster in a moment. She didn’t need his approval or even his friendship. After what happened five years ago, any kind of a relationship with Nate would require a miracle.

But she didn’t need to be treated as if she was public enemy number one.

“Would you say the haunted house is intended for all ages, like a family attraction?” the reporter asked.

“Everything at Starlight Point is family oriented,” Nate said.

“But there’s no way I’d take my little niece into one of these haunted houses,” Alice said.

“So...it’s not for all ages,” Bob said.

Nate cut Alice a look he might have given someone who ruined a surprise party by spilling the beans ahead of time.

“Look at this,” the haunted house man said to the reporter. He swiped through several screens on his phone, turned it sideways and showed it to the men from the Bayside Times.

“Whoa,” Jason said. “That man looks like he just saw his own funeral.”

The haunted house man laughed. “Seriously, look at their faces. We know how to scare them.” He turned to Alice and Nate. “Want to see these pictures of a haunted house we did in Tennessee last year?”

Alice was about to agree, her curiosity excited by the reaction of the reporters. But Nate said, “No,” in a cold, determined voice.

Everyone in the group looked at him, and he put on a winning smile. “I can’t wait to see the final product for myself. Don’t want to ruin it by looking at pictures of similar ones.”

The reporter and photographer shrugged and went back to looking at the pictures on the phone.

Alice shifted the stack of papers and folders she held so she could find a press kit from the haunted house company. It was the perfect thing to hand to the local media.

Suddenly, a breeze caught the edge of her papers and sent the top ones flying. When she tried to grab for them, the rest of the pile started to slide, and Alice’s shoulder bag skated down her arm. In a moment, everything would be on the ground or flying through the air.

Surprised by the sudden breeze and soaring papers, Alice was even more shocked when Nate deftly caught two papers midair and used his other hand to right her stack before it spiraled to the ground and spread out in a paperwork tsunami. Nate took the strap of her bag and put it back on her shoulder. As he helped her balance her pile of papers, his hand touched hers and he jerked it back as if he’d been burned. He flushed red and stepped back.

The other men stopped their conversation to stare.

“Paper cut,” Nate said. He locked eyes with Alice for a moment and the expression she saw in his eyes looked like panic.

Come on. Am I really that much of an ogre?

“Those are wicked,” the reporter said. “Paper cuts.”

Nate swallowed and nodded. “The worst.”

Alice took her bag off her shoulder and shoved all the papers in it. She didn’t even care about wrinkling them. She’d ask Haley to print new ones if she had to.

“I think we’re ready to move on to the haunted house in the shooting gallery,” she said pleasantly to her two consultants. She smiled at the reporter and photographer. “I don’t want to hold you up any longer. I’m sure you have a lot more ground to cover and a story to put out today.”

“We have plenty of material already, but I wouldn’t mind seeing what’s going on inside the shooting gallery,” Bob said. “People in town are pretty curious about what you’re cooking up here at the Point. I think you’re going to have a big success on your hands.”

“I sure hope so. I was one of the people who talked the Hamiltons into staying open all fall, so I’ll feel responsible if it doesn’t go well. As the special events coordinator, nothing is better than a happy ending.”

She heard Nate cough but didn’t glance his way. Instead, Alice squared her shoulders and focused on the reporter. “I can’t wait to tell you about the events we have planned for Christmas. I can’t say much now, but you might have noticed there’s a very large parking lot out front that would be perfect for something such as—” she put one finger on her chin and looked to the sky “—perhaps an ice skating rink or a Christmas tree lot.”

The reporter laughed. “Next you’ll be telling me you’re bringing in live reindeer and authentic elves.”

“I can’t reveal company secrets,” she said. “But if you know anyone who wants to get married, you can tell them there may be one weekend in December that isn’t booked yet for a Christmas wedding.”

Jason turned to the reporter and elbowed him. “Hear that, Bob? Maybe you and Shelly should make it official?”

“Shelly’s mother hasn’t learned to like me yet,” Bob said. “Maybe next year. In the meantime, how about letting us inside the haunted house?”

Alice shook her head. “Sorry, we want to keep some surprises for our guests.”

“We’ll walk with you as far as the arcade,” Nate said. He flashed a smile at the reporters. “But we’ll have to behave ourselves and not crash the party. There’s plenty of time for going through the haunted house when it opens.”

The group of six started walking in a disorganized blob. She wanted to walk between the two men from the haunted house company so she could talk freely with them as she had been for the past hour or so. But she didn’t dare tell the Bayside Times to put their cameras and notebooks away and head home, no matter how much she wanted to.

At the steps of the Western Arcade, she conceded to smiling for a picture with the haunted house producers. Now would they go?

“You might just see yourself in tomorrow’s paper,” the photographer said congenially. “But it sure would be a better picture if you were inside and we got a glimpse of something scary.”

Alice laughed, but then she noticed Nate’s expression as he stood behind the reporters. His usual pleasant, polite PR man veneer had been wiped off as if someone used an eraser on a chalkboard. He swallowed hard and glared at her.

Was he possessive about the news that came out of Starlight Point, or did a picture giving her credit for the fall events burn his biscuits that badly?

CHAPTER FOUR

THE NEXT DAY’S newspaper was on Alice’s doorstep by seven in the morning. The doorstep actually belonged to her parents, whose house she still lived in. Alice had been a year-round employee at Starlight Point for two years after working her way up to the coveted position by many summers of seasonal employment. Waiting tables in the off-season hadn’t been profitable, but she’d gotten by and taken pride in paying back her own student loans.

She might even have afforded her own place, but she’d been meticulously putting aside a portion of her paycheck every month to repay her parents for the wedding she’d called off the night before it happened. They had already paid for the flowers, the church, the reception facility, the band, the dress and the cake. How had she let them and herself get so carried away and run up such a giant bill? Maybe she wouldn’t be regretting the thousands of dollars spent if she’d gone through with the wedding.

In a few more months, she could surprise her parents by repaying the entire cost of disappointing them in one fell swoop. Then, at twenty-seven, she could finally get her own place, wonderfully free of the past.

She grabbed the paper from the same patch of front porch it had been thrown on by a succession of paper carriers all her life. She had about five minutes to glance through it before her father would ask for the paper with his coffee. And she knew better than to wrinkle it or mix up the sections. Her older sister had never cared to read the paper, but her younger sister had a habit of turning the sections inside out as she read them, a quirk that had spurred at least one family squabble.

She scanned the front page and was not surprised to see a big article about the fall festival weekends, which opened in a few hours. There were three pictures. One photograph of the front gate with its clever decorations, most of which had been her idea. One picture of the giant inflatable pumpkin where the midway fountain usually spewed water all summer. The massive balloon children could run through was also her idea. The third image was of a building on the Western Trail adorned with spiderwebs and bats. No pictures of Alice or anyone else.

“Is the paper here?” her father called from the kitchen.

I’ve got to get my own subscription, she thought. She resolved to read the article online as soon as she got to her office.

An hour later, Alice was glued to her laptop screen, skimming the article and hoping—vain though it was—to see a glimpse of her name, just so she could revel in the feeling of doing something right.

“Come on,” she said. She scrolled past an obnoxious flashing ad and kept reading to the end of the piece. Her shoulders fell. There was no mention of her in the article. Despite her hard work, imagination and planning. Despite the fact she had personally helped inflate that stupid pumpkin balloon.

“You don’t look happy,” Haley said. She put a cup of coffee on Alice’s desk. “It’s from Augusta’s bakery. I got you the good stuff because it’s opening day for the fall festivals.”

“Thank you,” Alice said. She still continued to skim the article, hoping she’d just missed it.

“Is something not going well?”

Alice shook her head. “Everything’s going fine with the opening, I think. It’s something else.”

Haley stepped around Alice’s desk and looked at her computer screen. “I saw that article in the paper while I waited for the coffee to brew at Augusta’s. I tried reading it to distract myself from getting a doughnut. My strategy failed, but the article seems like great publicity.”

“For Starlight Point, yes.”

Haley raised an eye brow and waited.

Alice sighed. “Sorry. Yes, it’s good PR for the Point. I just hoped... It’s silly—”

“They didn’t even mention your name after all the work you did.”

“You noticed that, too.”

“I did. I guess it’s good that the attitude around here is all for one and one for all, isn’t it?” Haley sat on the edge of Alice’s desk. “Why do you think your name wasn’t mentioned? It’s obvious the Hamiltons really like and value your work.”

“They didn’t interview me or the Hamiltons. Only one person contributed to that article.”

“Nate,” Haley said. She cocked her head as if trying to figure something out.

Alice nodded. “I’m taking this way too personally,” she said.

“Does Nate have something against you?”

Alice hesitated. “The short answer to that question is yes. The long answer is something I’d rather not talk about.”

Haley raised both eyebrows. “Must be a good story there.”

“More like a cautionary tale,” Alice replied.

* * *

EIGHT HOURS LATER, Nate checked his watch, hoping the weekend event would start on time. During the fall festival weekends, the park would be open Friday evenings and all day Saturday and Sunday. As the sun slanted across the sprawling parking lot at five o’clock on Friday, a sizable crowd gathered outside the front gate. Most of them wore jeans and sweatshirts as the September evenings already had the chill of fall.

Nate stood beside Virginia and Henry—keeping them between him and Alice. In the few weeks he’d worked at Starlight Point, Nate had discovered Henry was a good friend. Most of Nate’s friends had moved away from the area, and even though he’d come home to be an anchor for his dad, Nate felt he was drifting.

Jack, June and Evie Hamilton shared a microphone at the front gate and each of them said a few words about the extended season. Jack pointed to Alice who was standing only a few feet away and publicly thanked her for being the mastermind behind the fall weekends. She blushed and gave a little wave to the crowd. Her pink jacket made her stand out in the small crowd of year-round employees who were being recognized—mostly department heads and art and design staff.

A group of performers plucked from the singers and musicians in live shows—those who hadn’t yet gone back to college—performed the national anthem, and then the turnstiles opened.

“We did it,” June said as she came over to Alice and Virginia. Guests poured through the front gates behind her. “I know your hard work is going to pay off.”

Nate watched June hug Alice and then her mother. He felt a twinge of guilt that he’d asked the reporter to leave Alice’s name out of the article and not include the picture of her with the haunted house designers. He’d made up a story about Starlight Point wanting to recognize the team effort, not an individual’s. But that wasn’t his real reason.

The last thing his father needed as he battled cancer was to imagine his son was revisiting a dark period in his past. Even if that past was long over.

“Quite an event,” Henry said. “Exciting.”

“The first of many if it all goes well.”

Henry leaned on a post and regarded Nate. “Think you’ll be around for all those?”

“I’ll be around as long as I need to be.” The first of many cancer treatments had begun only days before, and Nate already saw the long road stretching out before him. Although his sister wanted to help, she had a young family and a job an hour away from Bayside. Nate was the obvious and willing choice for helping his dad get through the second worst experience of his life.

“You’re a good son, coming home to help your father through a rough patch.”

“He’s the only parent I have,” Nate said, and then he caught himself. What made him reveal something so personal to a man he hardly knew? Even in his own family, Nate never talked about his mother’s accident anymore. He cleared his throat. “How did you know I was...uh...helping my dad?”

“Jack told me. He didn’t say much more than that.”

“It’s not just a rough patch,” Nate said. “It’s a road ten miles long.” Nate hesitated a moment, afraid to share too much with Henry. “But we’ll get down it okay.”

The crowd around them thinned, and Alice and Virginia walked off. His conversation with Henry wasn’t likely to be overheard, but it still paid to be cautious.

“I’m sorry about that,” Henry said, putting a hand on Nate’s shoulder. “I’m coming home again, too, after a life on the road and in the skies. Inherited my parents’ place in Bayside. Most days I love it, but some days remind me it’s tough to come home again.”

Nate nodded, but he didn’t reply. He’d already said too much.

Henry patted Nate’s shoulder and then dropped his hand. “The longer I live, though, the more I know everything gets easier with time. Sometimes you just have to wait for it.”

Virginia waved to Henry from across the midway as crowds of people walked between them. Henry raised a hand and waved back.

“All the Hamiltons have been terrific to work with,” Nate said, glad to turn the conversation away from himself. “I hope these fall weekends pay off.”

“Alice has been working on it nonstop, except for the weddings part. I think June had to talk her into adding the weddings when the Hamiltons realized what a great market it was. Easy money, I guess, since people spend ferocious amounts of money on getting married.”

“Good business,” Nate agreed. “And free PR. If the wedding guests leave with a great impression of Starlight Point, it’s a win all around.”

Across the midway, Virginia and Alice parted ways, and the older lady came over to Nate and Henry. “It’s going to be a great weekend, weather-wise,” she said, smiling broadly.

“Are you working tomorrow morning?” Henry asked.

She shook her head. “Not until later in the day. I’m having breakfast with the kids downtown at Augusta’s bakery.”

“I love that place,” Henry said.

Nate noticed Henry’s eager tone. Was he hoping for an invitation? Nate knew Henry and Virginia were friends, and he’d noticed them working together on numerous special events.

Virginia’s expression sobered. “We love it, too, and Augusta finds us a spot in her side room where we won’t be disturbed. We have family business to discuss.”

“Well,” Henry said. “Doughnuts will make even business a lot more pleasant.”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t pleasant. It’s been five years since my husband died, and we had to put a few things in place at the time that have run their course now,” Virginia said. “In a good way.”

Nate watched the crowds passing and wished he wasn’t in the middle of an awkward conversation. Although Virginia wasn’t his boss and had, in fact, handed over ownership to her three children equally, Nate felt uncomfortable and a little sorry for Henry because he’d been subtly shot down.

“I hope you have a nice breakfast,” Henry said congenially, “and maybe I’ll see you later in the day.”

Virginia smiled and gave them both a little wave as she walked away.

“Piloting a jet is easier than navigating personal relationships,” Henry said.

“You’re telling me,” Nate agreed. “That’s why I save myself a lot of trouble by avoiding them.”

CHAPTER FIVE

THE WEDDING FESTIVITIES were only moments from starting.

Alice had already heard the bride and groom’s story, and it was one of her favorites so far. Two lovers who had met one summer working at the Point wanted to get married on the old-fashioned train that chugged around the perimeter of Starlight Point, giving low-thrill rides and scenic views to thousands of people a day. The bride had spent a summer loading and unloading passengers, and the groom had been a conductor giving a colorful spiel over the train’s public address system.

Whereas most of the weddings she planned seemed overblown and overly expensive, she liked the sentimentality of this one. When they’d met in her office months earlier to talk about the wedding, Alice had cautioned them that the only way a wedding on the train would work was to have it early Friday afternoon before the gates opened at five o’clock for the evening fall festival. With special permission from the Hamiltons, Alice had lined up employees to shovel coal and operate the train. She’d had the benches removed from one of the open-air train cars and replaced with several rows of chairs for immediate family and the wedding party to witness the ceremony.

Alice and Nate planned to be one car back overseeing the unusual event and taking photographs for the company website. The orchestra was already set up in the second car and the two remaining cars awaited guests. The entire train would make two low-speed circuits of the park while the ceremony occurred, and then guests would disembark at the station in the Wonderful West where a tent was set up for a reception.

“I think this has potential for disaster,” Nate said. “Who ever heard of getting married on a moving train?”

“It’s not the weirdest wedding I’ve been approached about,” Alice returned. “At least it makes more sense than getting married on a roller coaster.”

“Gotta be a metaphor in that,” Nate commented.

Alice rolled her eyes. “It’s our job to give people what they want. As a public relations man, I’d think you’d be all about that.”

Nate studied Alice with a long stare.

“Sometimes people don’t know what they want,” he said. “They just act like they do until it’s too late.”

A familiar stab of embarrassment, regret and guilt carved a path across Alice’s chest. “It’s never too late to be honest about what you want.”

Nate’s expression didn’t waver, but his ears turned pink.

“Here they come,” Alice said as a throng of people in formal clothes approached. They had entered the park through the marina gate where the parking lot had been reserved, and the bride and groom led the pack. “Get ready with your camera.”

Nate snapped pictures of the group’s arrival. The groom wore a dark suit and the bride’s white gown billowed in the autumn sunshine. Wedding guests fanned out behind them as the group approached. Although it was quite an entrance, Alice was sorry to miss the wonder-eyes moment when the bride and groom first saw each other. The traditional walk down the aisle wasn’t there, but holding hands and walking together toward their ceremony almost seemed better.

Maybe this marriage was about more than just the splashy ceremony. She wished all of them were.

“If I ever get married,” Haley said, “I think it will be on the cable cars. I’ll toss rose petals out and shower people below on the midway.”

“Very romantic,” Alice said. “And expensive.”

Haley frowned.

“But fragrant and memorable,” Alice added. “Unique.”

Haley smiled. “I’d be afraid to hire you to plan my wedding. If I looked fat in my dress or my veil was a big mistake, you’d probably tell me.”

Alice laughed. “Maybe not. But I would tell you if I thought you were marrying a big jerk.”

Nate cleared his throat behind Alice and she felt a wave of nausea. Of course she hadn’t meant to say he was a big jerk. She’d called off their wedding for some good reasons, but none of them involved him being a Neanderthal or a horse’s hind end.

As the wedding party and other guests arrived, Alice directed them to their train cars. The bride and groom had requested an authentic old-time experience for the wedding, so each guest had a train ticket with their car and seat number in fancy script. Alice and Haley had created over one hundred of the unique tickets. The train cars were decorated with purple bunting and flowers. Bridesmaids wore strapless short purple dresses, and the groomsmen wore suits. Not terribly formal, but appropriate for an afternoon outdoor wedding.

As the guests boarded the cars, Alice noticed that most of them were in their mid-twenties like the bride and groom. They were about her age, and many were wearing wedding bands. Good for them.

It took the efforts of Nate, Alice and Haley to get the guests in the correct rows. It should have been easy—each row of bench seats in the train cars was numbered with an ornate purple sign—but several of the guests wanted to vie for a better seat closer to the car where the ceremony would be held.

“After you,” Nate said as he waited for Alice to board their car. He didn’t take her arm or offer to hold her bag of supplies as she climbed up the two steps, but he stood silently with a completely neutral expression.

Did they teach that bland everything’s fine expression in public relations classes? Nate had it down to a science.

Maybe he was right and everything was fine. The conductor blew the whistle, and the train lurched into motion. Alice and Nate stood by the rails of the second car, right behind the orchestra. The usual quintet was supplemented by several more instruments to guarantee enough volume to compete with train noise and wind. They played a traditional wedding march, and Alice held on to a post supporting the train car’s roof to watch the ceremony unfold.

It’s going well. The bride and groom met under a garland of flowers suspended from the ceiling and kept their balance thanks to a flower-covered railing. Their small bridal party sat in the front row of white chairs and parents and immediate family were right behind.

Nate smiled at Alice. “It’s different, that’s for sure.”

“Every wedding is unique,” she whispered. She listened to the vows over the train’s public address system. Despite a few railroad puns, the vows were in substance, much like the ones Alice had heard dozens of times. The bride’s long brown hair was arranged in a complicated twist with a short veil attached to the back. Purple ribbons wove through her hair and edged the hem of her gown. The groom teetered a little as he turned to take the ring from his best man’s outstretched hand. His boutonniere slipped sideways with the quick movement, but otherwise the wedding was flawless.

As the train passed through the Wonderful West station for the first time, the bride and groom kissed. Alice breathed a sigh of relief. The ceremony was officially over. Now all they had to do was enjoy a full circuit of Starlight Point while the orchestra played, and then they’d all disembark for the reception.

“They went through with it,” Nate whispered to Alice when the minister made the final proclamation.

Alice cut him a glance. “I’m happy for them.”

Nate gripped the railing. “We used to ride this train when we were—”

“Younger,” Alice said, before he could use a more powerful word such as lovers or engaged. Nate’s expression held a trace of sadness, even vulnerability in the set of his lips and the line between his eyebrows.

The photographer in the first car aimed his camera in Alice and Nate’s direction, and Nate’s expression immediately flashed to PR neutral.

Everything’s fine.

It was now. She had a job she loved, a future and a life of her own in Bayside. There was no point in speculating about how it might all have been different.

The train passed Virginia and Henry, who stood waiting by the large white reception tent, and Alice waved. Their presence assured Alice that every detail had been followed to the letter. She’d be glad when everyone was off the train and under the tent. She already had a bus lined up to pick up all the guests at four o’clock and return them to their cars in the marina lot. That would give her crew an hour to clean up from the reception and remove everything but the tent for the evening festival.

Thank goodness the haunted houses weren’t opening for another two weeks. There wouldn’t be much foot traffic in the Wonderful West on a Friday evening, and it gave her crew just a touch of breathing room in case things did not go exactly according to plan.

Alice leaned on the railing as far away from Nate as she could manage and watched the familiar scenery go past. She’d been on the train ride dozens of times and knew a fake shoot-out with mechanically animated skeletons was just around the next bend. Even though she knew it was coming, she was still startled every time the pretend guns fired.

Just as the western town came into view, Alice heard shouting from the back of the train. Two men were out of their seats in the last car having an ugly verbal exchange. Nate saw it, too, and he and Alice went to the back of their car, watching in horror as two wedding guests drew back their fists to take a swing at each other.

“Gotta be kidding me,” Nate muttered. He swung a long leg over the back rail of their train car and jumped onto the car behind them. He was going to make his way back there on a moving train? Alice wanted to follow, but her close-fitting dress and high-heeled pumps wouldn’t allow her to swing gracefully along the edge of the train car as Nate was now doing.

The two men in the back car were grappling while horrified guests scooted away. One man was trying to stop them, holding out his hands and shouting. Alice got out her cell phone and called the Starlight Point police department. “Fight on the train,” she said. “Two wedding guests. We’re just passing behind the Lake Breeze Hotel right now.”

Nate had jumped to the rear car by that time and Alice watched him work his way down the side of it. He got to the fighting men just as one of them took a wild swing and fell off the train. Alice made a split-second decision, summoned her courage and jumped off the moving train. Someone had to see if the man was injured. She thought she might land on her feet because she had some athletic experience. Years of figure skating had given her poise and balance and decent jumping ability.

However, it was her first time jumping from a moving train and she completely failed to estimate the difficulty level. She tumbled and flailed, gravel flew, and she came to rest in a thick scratchy brush.

What have I done? She opened her eyes and saw the train disappearing around the next curve. A man dropped to his knees beside her and slid his arms under her. He brushed her hair back from her face. “Are you all right?”

In her scrambled state, Alice was afraid for a second it was the fighting man and he was going to take a swing at her. She risked a look at this face.

Nate’s dark eyes stared into hers and his hand was gentle on her cheek. He must have jumped off the train right after I did.

“If I close my eyes, can I pretend nothing happened?” Alice asked.

She heard Nate’s low laughter. “That’s my job, finding a way to gloss this over.”

He helped her sit up and continued to kneel next to her. “Your dress...” he said, gesturing to a long tear starting from the hem and going halfway up her thigh.

Alice grabbed the edges of the fabric and held them together. Her rose-colored shift was destroyed. She just hoped the rest of it was still decent. Nate took a handkerchief from his suit pocket and dabbed at scratches on Alice’s neck and shoulder. “Superficial, but I bet they sting like crazy,” he said. He handed her the cloth. “Do you think anything is broken?”

“The heel off one of my shoes,” she said as she glanced down and realized her favorite pumps were ruined, “and my personal pride will never be the same.”

“First time jumping off a train?” he asked.

She nodded and found a smile, despite the unexpected twist of the themed wedding.

“We’re not alone,” Nate said. One of the fighting men was walking toward them along the tracks. Nate stood and put himself between Alice and the stranger.

“Stop right there,” Nate said. “The police will be here in just a minute, and I will personally make sure you answer for this.”

Nate took off his suit jacket and handed it behind him to Alice. “Use my phone and call Henry to let him know what’s coming on the train.”

Alice found his phone in the pocket of his coat, which was still warm and smelled like Nate—a damp forest smell that reminded her he loved the outdoors. A memory of a camping trip they’d gone on flashed over her. As they’d sat by a fire watching the flames, he’d shared some of his grief over his mother’s passing and she’d felt as if she really knew him for the first time. But when the campfire died, he was back to pretending he was fine.

Alice pushed aside the memory and called Henry. She gave him a quick warning and told him to make sure the Starlight Point police officers knew the description of the person they were looking for.

Alice struggled to her feet and swayed a little. She put a hand to her forehead, reminding herself to take a deep breath and assess the actual damage. Nate slid an arm around her and held her against his chest while he kept an eye on the other man. He didn’t look at her, just held her as if she were a pillow or a bag of groceries.

Two Starlight Point police officers came through the trees and bushes separating the train tracks from the rear parking lot of the Lake Breeze Hotel.

“There’s your man,” Nate said. The officers walked over to the assailant. The fight had apparently gone out of him with his wild swing and fall from the train. His shoulders slumped and he kept his hands up in surrender. One of the officers cuffed him anyway.

“Got two cars in the hotel lot. I’ll take him to the station,” an officer said. “You two can ride in the other car and we’ll write up the report.”

Nate bent to pick up his suitcoat from the ground. One of the sleeves was torn. He put the coat over Alice’s shoulders.

“I’m not cold,” she protested.

“You need to look decent in case anyone’s watching.”

Despite his cool tone, he kept an arm around her as they picked through the bushes and trees to the waiting police cars.

Nate held open the front passenger side door of the police car and closed it after Alice got in. She took Nate’s coat and laid it across her lap to cover the lengthy exposure of leg under her ripped dress. It was bad enough Nate had seen it; she didn’t want to feel exposed and vulnerable in front of anyone else, especially the cop, who was several years younger than she was.

After he got in the back seat, Nate leaned forward. “If any cell phone video of that fracas emerges on social media, I’m going to claim it was staged to make an authentic Wild West–themed wedding train even more exciting.”

Alice laughed, amused and horrified at the same time.

The young police officer got in the driver’s seat. “Do you two need medical attention? I could run you past first aid on the way to the police station.”

“I’m fine,” Nate said from the back seat, “but Alice may need someone to take a look at her.”

She shook her head. “I’m fine. I’d like to get back to the wedding.”

The officer raised an eyebrow. Of course she’d get cleaned up and changed first. She knew she probably didn’t look anywhere close to being presentable. “Might be a while,” he said. “I heard on the radio they’re bringing in a man and a woman they picked off the train at the Wonderful West station. Might be a lovers’ spat we have to sort out and decide who’s pressing charges where.”

“A crime of passion,” Nate said softly from the back seat. “Those make good stories, just not what we need at Starlight Point.”

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