Page 36 of The Princess Home for Christmas

“Lucan, why am I not surprised?”

“Later you can tell me what doesn’t surprise you more, that my voice is coming from this strange device or that your village is journeying to safety this afternoon.”

She gasped, hope rising with emotion in her chest. “Thank you, Lucan.”

“Thank your boyfriend. Now, don’t give them trouble, Dahlia. You’ll see everyone again, no need to go on a glorified camping trip.”

Tears welled up. She turned to Thomas. Then to the passengers on the boat. “You will be safe. I’ll see you soon.” They waved to her, and the boat backed up away from the dock.

Thomas reached for her hand. “It’s completely legal. But you and I, we have an appointment with the press.”

“Another—no, I can’t handle any more press.”

“Someone has to explain the sudden disappearance of all these people.”

“And you think I’m going to be of use in that conversation?”

“Besides, I told them to meet us outside the ice house,” He continued as if she hadn’t spoken and raised his eyebrows, his eyes sparkling with fun.

Then she shrugged. “It appears I don’t have anything else to do.”

She approached the driver. “I don’t suppose you could give us a ride back?”

Thomas shook his head and took her hand. “Thank you, but no need.” He pointed off in the sky. A black smudge moved toward him and when it got closer, she heard the thump of the copter beat. “Nico sent it?”

“No, it’s mine.” They moved off the dock closer to the open parking lot area where the bird would land.

They ducked and ran to load inside as soon as it landed and when they were buckled in with headphones on, the captain took off again.

Dahlia watched Thomas. What was she to think of this man? His heart was absolutely as good as any she’d ever know. His desires pure, unselfish.

They flew for many minutes before Thomas turned to her. “I have a surprise.”

She almost teased him about how his surprises were often two edged swords but instead she just smiled and asked, “Another one?”

He winked. Then he lifted a hatch. Inside were what looked to be flour bags full of something.

“Fake snow. Glitter. And cash prizes.” He turned on the intercom to the pilot. “We’re almost there. Fly low.”

Immediately the helicopter began its descent.

“Are we doing what I think we’re doing?” She smiled in anticipation.

“Today, suddenly for the first time in fifty years, it will snow in Torren.”

“Where should we do it?”

“Well, there is an outdoor festival on Main Street today. I thought we could empty most of the bags there and then stop by—”

“The orphanage.”

“Exactly.”

She clapped her hands and felt like a young child. “How do we get the bags ready?”

“We just cut them open right here and open the hatch below.” He handed her a box cutter type knife and she slit open three of the bags.

Then when they got close to Main Street, so close people began to wave at them, he opened the hatch. The ground passed by beneath them, people, street signs, buildings all visible through a cage keeping in the bags, while the soft glitter and white flakes floated down through the sky.

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