Page 110 of No Place Like Home
Cade heard the unspoken conjunction hovering in the air. “But?”
“But you guys aren’t there yet.” Marc gestured toward the smoke. “Between this new eyesore and all the repairs still needed around town…unfortunately, it’s not film-ready. And I can tell it won’t be for some time.”
Cade’s stomach knotted. He fought to keep his smile and professionalism. “I understand. Maybe you’ll give us another try in a few years.”
Assuming there was still a town by then. Assuming the Blue Pirogue didn’t close and the shops didn’t start slowing dropping like flies as tourism slowed…
The knot tightened.
“You put on quite a production earlier—we were impressed with what we got to see.” Marc’s smile dropped into concern. “And I sincerely hope your aerialist is okay.”
He nodded. “Me too.” Rosalyn wasn’t his though, was she?
“We’ll get out of your hair. You obviously have your hands full.” Marc nodded toward Trent. “I’m sorry we don’t have better news.”
“Yeah, sorry, man.” Trent clapped him on the shoulder as Marc started down the sidewalk. “I really wanted this to happen.”
So did he. “I know.” Cade cleared his throat. “We’ll keep in touch.”
“You got it.” Trent shot him a thumbs-up before hurrying to catch up to his boss.
Smoke curled around him. Cade coughed as he stared at the steaming structure. Firemen hoisted long hoses. Ash drifted lazily from the sky. The acrid scent of defeat hung heavy in the air.
He had to tell his father he wasn’t running. He clearly wasn’t fit for a leadership role. So many people depending on him to make Magnolia Days the most profitable one ever, and he’d failed.
But if he didn’t run, he put his father in a bind and would fail his family name.
His lungs constricted. Cade was tired of no-win situations. He didn’t have what it took to pass the bar. He didn’t have what it took to run his hometown.
He didn’t have what Rosalyn needed. And could he blame her after last night?
Cade checked his phone on the off chance she’d texted him back. He’d let her know when he left with Owen that he wanted to talk as soon as she was ready, and he’d keep her posted on the fire.
No responses.
A surprised gasp sounded to his left, as Sadie, Harper, and several new onlookers joined the group. “What happened?” Sadie’s face was stricken as she looked at Cade for answers. He looked down at his cell, then at the fire, and shook his head.
He had none.
* * *
She was so tired of falling.
Rosalyn cautiously re-entered the deserted circus tent, one hand on the gear bag she’d forgotten backstage. She’d driven almost all the way to Bayou Beignets to find Cade before realizing and turning back to go grab it. Now, everyone was gone—gathered at the fire, most likely.
The emergency had gotten the paramedics off Rosalyn’s back, who had wanted her to go to the hospital as a precaution, but that was hardly worth the despair her new friend must be going through. Poor Zoey.
Seemed like nothing about this night had gone as anticipated.
Cade’s apologies rang in her ears, hovering, making her unsure what to do with it. She
eyed her silks, still rigged in the center of the ring.
Funny how quickly things changed.
She shouldn’t be here alone, not with all the what-ifs circling her mind, but something held her in the ring, kept her eyes fixed on her silks. Her knee twinged. A nasty bruise was forming on arm. Her head pulsed, but nothing a dose of Tylenol couldn’t help. The paramedics had been cautious, as expected, but she really was okay.
Physically, at least.
