Page 11 of No Place Like Home
Cade rocked back and forth on his heels, not even attempting to mask his smirk. “I agree, ma’am. I mean, Lettie.”
Rosalyn narrowed her eyes at him.
“But you found your calling, dear. Look at you!” Madame raised Rosalyn’s arm high over her head and spun her in a quick pirouette. “You were born to fly.”
She’d always thought so. Honestly, the fact her mother let her take aerial lessons after she failed so miserably at ballet, well…God had to have been involved in that miracle.
But lately? He’d seemed absent for a while.
And who could blame Him?
Madame continued to gush over her while Cade continued to listen, so Rosalyn tugged her performance smile in place. The one she wore when the show really did have to go on—despite heartache or menstrual cramps or any other interruption life threw at her.
Born to fly? Once upon a time, sure.
Now, after Saudi Arabia, she seemed much more destined to crash and burn.
three
“You know what I realized today?” Cade hoisted his end of the antique bed frame that he and Linc were helping Noah move into a renovated suite at the Blue Pirogue Inn.
“What’s that?” Noah inched another step up the refinished staircase. A hint of lacquer still hung in the air.
Cade followed, trying to at least give the appearance that he was carrying his fair share of the bed’s solid bulk. But they all knew Linc was doing the heavy lifting. “I’ve never fully appreciated country music before.”
Noah let out a huff. “Think you could save this deep revelation for when we’re not hauling three hundred pounds up a flight of stairs?”
Linc grunted from his end of the frame. “If you’d been up-front about the second-floor bit, you might not have been nominated for walking-backward duty.”
Noah set his side of the bed down on the steps with a groan. “If I’d been up-front, you wouldn’t have come.”
Linc pursed his lips. “Fair.” He lowered his end, forcing Cade to do the same.
Cade cast a glance around as he stretched his back. The inn looked like an entirely different place under Noah’s headship. Crazy to think a few months ago, Noah had been worried about black mold and losing the inn altogether, which was part of his inheritance from his grandfather. Now the Blue Pirogue was back in top shape and ready for a steady stream of summer tourists…which would hopefully arrive for Magnolia Days.
Yet another reason Cade had to come through.
He almost brushed his hands on his pants, then noticed his dust-coated palms. He was getting a blister too, but he liked the physical labor. It got his mind off everything with Rosalyn that morning—and the weight bearing down on him regarding his town. “This bed isn’t that bad, guys.”
“Say the two men walking forward.” Noah shook back his hair, sweat beading on his forehead. He kept one hand on the frame to keep it from toppling into the banister. “Fine. Enlighten us. What’s changed your mind about country music?”
“Keep listening to your instincts, Cade. They were right to avoid the genre altogether.” Linc used the neck of his T-shirt to wipe the sweat from his face. “Can we get this over with, please?”
“What? Cade’s announcement or moving the bed?” Noah smirked.
Linc grunted again. “Both.”
On three, they all grabbed their designated corners and heaved.
“I always thought country lyrics were dumb. You know, all the stuff about short shorts and drinking in a hayfield.” Cade shook his head as they cleared the top of the staircase and started a slow shuffle across the hallway. “But after spending most of the morning with Rosalyn today, well…”
Noah craned his neck to see Cade around the massive piece of furniture. “Well?”
Cade adjusted his grip. “Now I kind of understand why there are so many songs about long tanned legs.”
The bed wobbled as Linc shook with silent laughter.
“They’re hard to forget, that’s all.” Nothing about Rosalyn had ever been immodest. But she had that performance air about her, the kind of beauty that held people rapt.
