Amazing what a good nap can do for you. I woke feeling refreshed, if a little disoriented. Then my hand went to my stomach. 

Oh right. That.

I threw my legs over the side of the bed, grateful that the nausea had passed. Besides the nagging anxiety about whether I was pregnant, I felt good as new. Nellie always kept the beds here in top form, expertly fluffed. After sleeping in one, I saw now what the fuss was all about.

It was more than a bed. It was like, an experience. Which sounds totally cheesy to say, but have you ever woken up from the best nap of your life, feeling like you could take on the world and then some?

Yeah, it was like that.

After a quick trip to the bathroom to freshen up, I peeked around the inn for Sebastian. Couldn't find him, so I figured he was still meeting with Rosemary. I checked my watch.

I'd slept for a good two hours. He'd probably be back soon, but in the meantime, I had an idea.

While I slept, I dreamed about the old Festival of Fire. I saw the colors, the smells of roasting chestnuts, the music in the background as the lights flickered on and off in rhythm. It was more than just a simple tree lighting ceremony or something like that. It was a performance. Held each Saturday in December, it had been one of the town's biggest spectacles. 

Had, being the operative word. 

But not for much longer, if I had anything to do with it.

Sebastian was right. The Festival had been wonderful, and the tragedy of years past couldn't stop us from spreading joy and laughter this year. Besides, I thought with a sad smile, it's what Miss Walker would have wanted.

I was going to bring back the Festival of Fire. If that didn't convince Sebastian to stick around, nothing would.

Not many people knew where the supplies for the Festival were kept. I only did because I was living with the lady that ran the show at the time. Ever since the fire, the sparklers and matches and rockets had stayed locked away in a storage unit, gathering dust. But I knew just where to find them.

I lived in Miss Walker's old house, after all. When she passed away, it only seemed fitting for me to keep the cabin. It wasn't much to look at, but it was home. As home as I'd ever been. 

I picked up the pace, grabbing my coat by the door before slipping out of the Bed and Breakfast and down the road toward town. If I was quick enough, Sebastian would never even notice I was gone.

Sebastian.

Another wave of emotion hit me then. Or was that nausea? 

We'd grown so close in so little time. I wanted to trust him more than anything, but if he tried to double cross me...

I gritted my teeth. No. He wouldn't. He wasn't Brad. 

I just hoped that my fear didn't tank our relationship before it begun.

The walk across town was easy enough. Not many people out on the roads today, only a few neighbors walking their dogs or children playing in the snow. I saw Ren Svenson, owner of the creperie, talking to someone at a market stall and gave him a wave.

That was the thing about small towns like this. Everyone knew everyone. That was both a pro, and a con. 

Not easy keeping secrets around here, and if I was gonna pull this off, I'd need discretion. 

Finally I reached my place on the other side of town. It was far from the town center, only flanked by a few sparse cabins. Miss Walker liked her privacy just as much as I liked mine. Maybe that's why we got along so well. 

Instead of entering the house, I circled around and unlocked the gate that led to the back yard. The gate creaked and whined, frozen and stuck in a snow drift. With a grunt and a push, I yanked it free. Not before spraying myself with slush, though. 

I shook myself off and tried to forget the chill. Was it just me, or was it getting colder by the second? I pushed that thought away and clomped through the freshly fallen snow to the shed in the backyard. 

The ancient bolt was still there, untouched. I dug out my key ring again and froze. Wait a second. This wasn't the lock I remembered.

The key I owned was small and light, for an equally dainty lock. But the padlock sealing the shed now was sturdy, thick steel with a complicated-looking keyhole. I furrowed my brow and shuffled through my keys. Nothing looked like it would fit.

Since when had she changed the lock? Had that happened without me knowing? 

No one had been back here since she died in the accident. She always took the liberty of retrieving and re-packing all the years supplies herself, carting them to and from the square each year.

So clearly, she must have changed the lock. Must have been right before she died. 

And now? Where, or what, the key was was anyone's guess.

I let out a sigh. Then with a groan I grabbed the frosty door handle and pulled, hard. No luck. 

If I couldn't get into the shed, we couldn't have the Festival of Fire. 

And I could just imagine the hurt on Sebastian's face all over again. No. I needed to do this. I'd figure out a way. Vale Valley was getting fireworks, dammit.

Will Sterling didn't give up that easily.