“Maybe you could talk to him yourself.”

“Why do I have to act like an adult?”

“It builds character and you might want to have the skill later, so it’s good to practice.”

Jasmine laughed. “If you insist.”

“I do.”

Robbie walked into the kitchen. He was nearly six feet, with light brown hair that was going gray at the temples. He smiled when he spotted them talking.

“How are my two favorite girls?”

“Good,” Madeline said. “I think it’s going to snow.”

“I hope so. It’s so fun here when it snows.”

Madeline grinned at her brother. “I would think you’d get enough snow at home.”

Robbie snagged one of the cooling cookies and took a bite. “It’s different here.”

“Magical,” his daughter said.

“I don’t think I’d go that far, but close.” He turned to Madeline. “You okay with the holiday plans? You can come with Jasmine and me if you want.”

Madeline appreciated the concern for what would be her first Christmas without her family. “I’ll be fine. I’ve already talked to Mom. I have friends and plenty to keep me busy. Don’t worry.”

“Grandma Pat said it was okay,” Jasmine added. “Just so you know.”

Grandma Pat was Robbie’s mother-in-law and Jasmine’s maternal grandmother. “Tell her thank you, but I’m staying in Fool’s Gold.” She had work and a wedding to plan. There was also the slight chance she might be caught under some mistletoe with a very handsome Jonny Blaze.

* * *

Around noon on Thanksgiving, Jonny drove into town for the parade. He was curious to see the festivities, not to mention cheer on his car. He wasn’t sure Mayor Marsha was a 1956 El Dorado kind of gal, but who was he to judge?

He was surprised by the number of people already lining the streets. It took him a while to find parking and then he had to walk nearly a mile back to the parade route. He passed lots of families. Parents with kids in strollers and even parents with teenagers. He would have expected the older kids to head off to be with their friends, but from what he could see, they were pretty willing to stay with the old folks. A few people smiled and called out a greeting. He had a feeling that was about the day and not him, which he liked.

The temperature was brisk—probably the midthirties. Cold but not unbearable. The sky was clear, but he would swear he could smell the promise of snow. On the corner, Brew-haha had set up a kiosk with mugs of cocoa and coffee. Next to that was a food cart that sold all kinds of Thanksgiving-shaped cookies. Turkeys and pumpkins and Pilgrim hats. He got a coffee and a couple of cookies, then strolled around in the crowd.

There was plenty of conversation. He heard snippets of different discussions on everything from the favorite part of the parade to what side dishes a certain mother-in-law expected her new daughter-in-law to make. When the faint notes of music drifted toward them, the crowd went quiet, then began to cheer.

He turned with everyone else, eager to catch his first glimpse of this small-town parade.

“Oh. My. God. You’re Jonny Blaze. I can’t believe it. What are you doing here? Do you live here? Is it really you? Can I have an autograph and take a picture?”

It took a second for the frantic words to register. Jonny turned and saw a woman in her thirties staring at him. She was holding a toddler and there was a slightly older girl hanging on to her free hand. He knew he’d never seen her before and guessed she was a tourist in town for the long weekend.

The woman stared at him, then nodded. “It’s you. I can’t believe it. Mike, hurry. It’s Jonny Blaze. You need to take our picture. This is amazing. Can we kiss, because wow, would I like to kiss you.”

This happened all the time. He knew exactly what to do, how to establish boundaries. He’d been doing it for years. Only in the past few weeks, he’d forgotten what it was like to have the public intruding into his life. So he wasn’t prepared and in the seconds it took him to figure out what he was supposed to say—beyond “Hell, no, we can’t kiss”—the woman was moving in for her picture.

“You’re going to feel really foolish in a minute.”

The voice came from behind him, then a woman who had to be in her seventies pushed in front of him.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she continued cheerfully. “That he’s that movie star Jonny something, right? Happens all the time.” The old lady slapped him on his upper arm. “This is my no-good grandson. He can’t hold a job to save his soul. My daughter is pulling her hair out, let me tell you. Now he’s not the brightest bulb in the chandelier, but he’s learned how to clean out gutters. You have some work he could do? He’s honest and he’s cheap.”