Tani pressed the tip of her tongue to her top lip as she took a brochure. “We must have missed a few. It’ll be fine.”

“It’s not fine. This says there are going to be shuttles to the maze like every other year.”

“Wait—didn’t you say you weren’t going to be bothered if we didn’t have a maze this year? That Zayne’s happiness was more important than the festival?”

Andrea put her fists on her hips. “I never said his happiness was more important. I just didn’t want him unhappy. Even if we’re not together...”

Her voice trailed off. She hadn’t spoken or texted with him in a week. Not since she told him there wouldn’t be a maze. She’d just have to figure out another way to prove her management skills at the college. Another job would roll around eventually. And she was pretty sure she never wanted to run another festival in Rendezvous Falls.

“Okay, okay.” Tani put her arm around Andrea’s shoulders. “I’ll make sure everything works the way it’s supposed to. And no one’s going to be disappointed with the shuttle bus rides, since they’ll now take them up to Eagle Rock Distillery. That was a brilliant idea on your part.”

“But not as family-centered as the maze was.”

She had a feeling quite a few parents would get the same earful from their kids that Hudson had been giving her. Although his distress may have had more to do with missing Zayne than missing the corn maze. Her son had been moping around all week, asking to go to the farm. Asking to go see Duke. Asking why Momma didn’t like Mr. Zayne anymore.

Whitney had advised Andrea to love Zayne through his fear. But first, she needed to know that he loved her enough to try. But every day that passed without him reaching out to her made her feel more lonely. She’d been grateful for the festival, because it kept her too busy to think about how much she missed him—at least until nighttime came. But now the festival was here, and in a few days it would be over and then she’d be forced to confront a future without Zayne in it.

“Yoo-hoo! Andrea!” Iris Taggart was walking her way, using the cane that had become a regular thing since the octogenarian broke her hip a few years ago. Vickie Pendergast was with her. They’d both been chairs of the festival multiple times in the past. “Everything looks lovely, dear. You’re going to have a smashing success this weekend—I just know it. Even without the corn maze.”

And there it was. The first of what would probably be a thousand mentions of the missing maze. Andrea forced a smile. “Thank you, Iris. What has you here so early? The festival doesn’t officially start until this afternoon.”