Perhaps he should have been more grateful that the weather was good, but really, it just meant that he had no reason not to attend the Halloween festival. After all, if it had been raining, then he could have said oh sorry, horse rides aren’t exactly a hit in the rain. And stayed home. And that would have been that.

But instead he was sitting out here, on All Hallow’s Eve, quietly glancing at the small flip-phone Lorraine had made him carry a few years back to keep track of the time, and be able to be reached. Normally he’d be out until the wee hours of the night, it was kind of his thing, doing these rides, posing for pictures, what have you. All part of being a local legend.

Though tonight, especially, he had to be back before midnight. He’d made a promise, a few hours of doing the festival, and then he’d be back to the house. Hopefully in time for cake, but definitely in time to drop off a present. He’d gotten it, he had the trinket in his pocket, hopefully Harriet would like it…

At the thought of the newly minted eleven-year-old sitting at home, feeling so dismal on her birthday, his shoulders slumped a little, the earlier sense of responsibility coming back about ten times stronger. It was because of him that her parents weren’t here on her birthday, the stupid, stupid BMLS Summit being scheduled on Halloween for some godforsaken reason. Gary had insisted that now was the time to press their advantage with the people down in DC, about getting his probationary status looked into, if not waived entirely. Lorraine went because, well, where Gary went she also did, and two likely would stand a better chance than one.

But Harriet had not been happy, as he was easily able to recall the girl’s heated protests that had devolved into the shouted, teary assertion that Gary and Lorraine had been there for her brother and sister’s birthdays, and she hated sharing them with “everybody else”.

And, well, while it was a fair thing to be upset about, and he did remember some fuss last year, the plans had already been set. So, about a day or so ago, Gary and Lorraine left for DC, leaving the rest of them to put together a birthday party for the sullen and unhappy Harriet.

He’d helped out for as long as he could before he’d had to leave, and maybe if no one else tried to get his attention he could head back to the house. Just to check in, drop off his gift.

Maybe call it a night…

“It’s him! It’s him! The Headless Horseman!”

…Or maybe he’d have to wait for another hour. Even as he turned, the Horseman tried to keep an exasperated look off his vegetal face. It wasn’t exactly their fault, and he really couldn’t be angry with the kids.

“Happy All Hallow’s Eve!” He called, noticing on the periphery how the parents briefly shied back. Not ones he knew either, must’ve been out-of-towners. The child though only stalled for a moment before running in with an ear-to-ear grin. The Horseman, for his part, met the little one with an equally wide smile, easily sweeping the boy up and holding him in an arm. Adorable little thing with chestnut hair, couldn’t have been older than five. He also had the signs of having been around the fair, a small pumpkin painted on the side of his face, the Horseman’s heart growing lighter as he spoke up.

“Are you enjoying the fair, Kleiner?”

“Yeah! What’s a Kleiner?” The immediate switch from enthusiastic to confused made an echoey laugh bubble up through the Horseman’s chest, his arms moving to carefully swing the boy around.

“It means little one! And you are very little!”

“I’m not that little!” The boy insisted, though he couldn’t help smiling at the cheery tone and the swinging motion. “I’m gonna be six in November!”

Ah, birthdays. Though even with the reminder of his current predicament, the Horseman stowed his brief flare of guilt with a laugh that he hoped didn’t sound too hollow.

“Happy early birthday, then!” His words did feel a little forced, though the child’s smile thankfully didn’t fade, or give any other sign that he’d heard the slip. Good thing too, it wasn’t like it was the boy’s fault that things weren’t well at home… “Do you want a ride?”

The little one’s face went from merely happy to downright ecstatic, his head rapidly bobbing up and down as his eyes blew wide. But before the Horseman could place him up on the saddle, his mother quickly spoke up.

“Oh! No, we can’t tonight, we won’t have time for the hayride!”

Perhaps he should have been more insulted that he was being upstaged by the hayride, of all things, but there was a slow-growing nugget of hope in the Horseman’s chest that this might be the break he needed. Of course, the boy wasn’t about to relinquish the promise of an adventure so easily, pouting even as the Horseman gently set him down.

“But Mom! Please? We’ll be quick!” 

“Sorry, Connor, but we’ve already gotten the tickets. If we don’t go now we won’t be able to go at all.”

“And we still have to catch our train in an hour, remember?” The father pointed out, the Horseman trying to look like he wasn’t listening even as his curiosity couldn’t help turning over the information. Train? Were they from the city, then?

Not that it really held much bearing on his evening, Connor acquiescing with great reluctance as his parents led him away. Still, he couldn’t help glancing back at the Headless Horseman, before giving a grin and a wave.

“Happy Halloween, Headless Horseman!”

Unable to help a jack-o-lantern grin of his own, the Headless Horseman lifted his pumpkinhead away from his neck, holding it aloft like a basketball. He didn’t dare try to twirl it though, he remembered what happened last time.

“Happy Halloween, Kleiner!”

The image of the lit jack-o-lantern being held aloft, along with the echoey boom of the Horseman’s own call, made a wilder grin light up Connor’s own face, the child waving frantically even as his feet carried him along with his parents. Briefly, as he put his head back, the Horseman’s own thoughts went back to when Susan, Brian, and Harriet were little, how they’d all but run to meet him when he’d come back from riding around, or when he’d had actual places to be throughout the village.

A small fist grasping at his fingers, the Horseman looking down at the toothless smile as he let slip with the first thought on his mind.

“Mein Gott, sie is so klein…”

“Yeah, though remember to support her head, she can’t quite do that yet.” Lorraine said, a laugh in her tone as she eased his hands into the correct position.

His hands had paused in the act of grabbing the reigns, the Horseman briefly feeling a strange sort of heartsickness at the reminder of how much simpler things had been. Well, except not, he’d still been on the probation registry then, but…

Letting out a smoky sigh, he glanced in the direction of his horse, the jet-black mount seeming to be in a state of waiting. Waiting for him to make the call, it seemed. Briefly the Headless Horseman stood there, glowing eyes shuttering for a spell as he listened. Perhaps he could’ve done this with his eyes open, but he always found it easier to close them first. More than likely it had to do with the fact that the wind wasn’t something that could be readily seen, but really that was just speculation on his part.

The gentle, fall breeze circling around them was fairly quiet, apart from a snatch of conversation from the small family that was just fading off into the darkness. For an instant the Horseman could hear the wife’s voice talking, seemingly in an undertone to her husband.

“I didn’t know he was German…”

Well, suppose some folks learned new things every day, even if a part of the Horseman couldn’t help feeling a worn sort of exasperation. People always forgot that part, his second nickname in the damned story was The Galloping Hessian! Where did people think that was?!

 But, well, she knew now, so he guessed he couldn’t complain too much…

And, more importantly, apart from the three people heading off into the night, the Headless Horseman and his mount were entirely alone. The festival had wound down a bit, perhaps a little earlier than normal but it made for the perfect opportunity. He could go and be back at the house in less than ten minutes!

Feeling hope flare through his chest and jack-o-lantern head, the Headless Horseman, sent out a quick text and swung himself up into the saddle, barely needing to urge his horse to a gallop. Still, just on the off-chance someone was coming up the main avenue, he cut around the Dutch Church, hoping to avoid any of the festivalgoers.  Instead, he took a detour around where some of the shops and houses were, nearly feeling like he’d managed to get away with his quick exit before,

“Horseman!”

The call had him automatically yanking on the reigns, even as some part of him couldn’t help giving a despairing groan at the interruption. Turning to the newcomer, the Headless Horseman tried not to look too put upon.

“Sorry, I won’t hold you up long, just wondering if you have a minute to talk? I’m a huge fan.”

Well, alright, if it would just take a minute…