Chapter 21
twenty-one
“T his is embarrassing.” Linc shouldered the handle of the mallet and scowled at the crowd forming around the high striker game outside the circus tent Wednesday evening. The scent of Cajun tacos and tangy barbeque wafted from the food trucks parked across the lot. “I feel like a show pony.”
“Well, you do have a mane tied up in that bun.” Cade took a slurp of sweet tea as he looked up at the towering red and gold strength test. This wasn’t the time to tell Linc what his own score had been when he’d attempted the game earlier in the day—less than brag-worthy, for sure.
Noah, wearing a backward baseball cap, snorted as he pinched off cotton candy. “I can’t believe you let Cade talk you into this.”
“Hey, slow down. I want a piece.” Elisa looked like a teenager in her denim overalls and pink tee. Noah extended the cone of blue sugar toward her, the look of adoration in his eyes the same one Cade feared showed up in his own every time he caught a glimpse of Rosalyn.
“Everyone started piling up outside the tent before we were ready for the first performance. I figured Linc would make a good side show to buy some time.” Cade shook the remaining ice in his cup and grinned. “Besides, you know he loves being the muscle of the group.”
Linc grunted but didn’t argue as he switched the mallet to his other hand.
“Seriously you guys…” Zoey pulled off a clump of Noah’s cotton candy despite his protest and shoved it in her mouth. “…that giant tent won’t be big enough to hold his ego if you all don’t hush.”
Good point. Cade shifted his weight as he looked toward the tent, closed up before the first performance. He was more than relieved Rosalyn was warming up in the backstage area and not here to see this one-man muscle show.
He, however, could not wait to see her . Magnolia Days had sailed by without too many issues, though navigating the event took all his time. He was only able to steal moments with Rosalyn throughout the festival, and rarely alone. Which was depressing, seeing how—against his better judgment—he wanted to soak in as much time as possible before she left the Bay.
After the initial porta-potty disaster and one temporary malfunction with the Ferris wheel, things had gone relatively well. Attendance stayed high and sales seemed solid, especially on the food truck side. Magnolia Bay sure liked to eat. But with its admission fee and exclusive merchandise sales, the bulk of their fundraising profit was sure to come from the three nights of the one-ring Cajun Circus.
Which was almost ready to start. Hopefully Rosalyn was too. And the dancing poodles and the magician and the Hula-Hoopers…
Cade checked his watch, then turned to the crowd behind him. “Ten minutes until the tent opens! Have your tickets ready.”
Excited murmurs rippled through the group as they pushed closer to the red velvet ropes Cade had borrowed from the movie theater. It seemed like good news to Cade that there were a lot of people he didn’t recognize—tourists? Noah had mentioned the Blue Pirogue was fully booked this week, something that hadn’t happened all year.
And if Trent and his executive liked what they saw and wanted to film here in the near future, well…maybe Cade was actually going to pull this off.
Maybe he couldn’t pass the bar, but maybe he could run the town.
Three small kids pushed through the wall of adult legs in front of them and looked wide-eyed up at Linc. “You’re huge.”
He glared at them.
The smallest kid ducked behind a taller one. Then another little boy, his cheeks stained with red sno-cone, held up his scrawny, sunburned arm. “Will you flex?”
Linc shifted the mallet. His eyes darted to Zoey, then back to the boy. “I definitely will not.”
“Boo.” Zoey called around her mouthful of candy, eyes sparkling. “Come on, Hercules.”
Cade snorted. “And you were worried about us making his head big?”
Linc released a long-suffering sigh. “You do realize I’m not a Disney character.”
“Um, you do realize Hercules was a mythological Greek hero before Disney made him a cartoon,” Zoey shot back.
Elisa scrunched her brow. “You both realize he’s not actually real, right?”
Down the row of nearby game booths, someone threw a dart at a wall of balloons. Pop . The huddle of kids jumped. The smell of slightly burnt popcorn wafted on the evening breeze. Cade looked at his watch again. “Eight minutes, everyone!”
“Come on, hit it, already!” Zoey started clapping her hands and chanting Linc’s name. She was quickly joined by Mama D, Noah, Elisa, Miley, Sadie, and a dozen others waiting to go inside the circus tent. “ Linc … Linc … Linc …”
“Aye!” With a scowl, Linc steadied the mallet, aimed once, and then hefted it onto the buzzer. The puck flew up the runner and slammed into the top with a loud clang.
Cade’s eyes widened. Noah’s hand went still on his cotton candy. Zoey’s mouth gaped. The standing crowd hushed in awe.
“There.” Linc tossed the mallet onto the hard-packed dirt. It reverberated with a thud Cade felt up into his shins. “Happy?”
“I’m not sure yet.” Noah surrendered the rest of his cotton candy to Elisa. “Surprised, maybe. Jealous, for sure.”
Cade clapped Linc on the shoulder as they turned away from the high striker. Now he was really glad Rosalyn had missed that. “Are you trying to make the rest of us look bad, or does it come naturally?”
Linc narrowed his eyes. “I believe you promised me a free corndog in exchange for flaunting me around.”
“Right.” Cade pulled a wad of red carnival tickets from the pocket of his slacks. “ Bon appetite .”
“Wait up.” Zoey, still nibbling a handful of cotton candy, called after Linc. “I like corn dogs too.” She ran behind him and jumped on him piggyback style. “You sure you won’t flex?”
Without looking back, Linc shook her off like a gnat and kept walking. She landed lightly on her feet, trotting after him and chanting Hercules over and over as he stoically made his way toward the food truck.
Noah caught Cade’s gaze and knowingly lifted his chin. “We just gonna let that ride?”
“Did you like us bugging you about her?” Cade nodded toward Elisa.
“He’s got a point, Noah.” Elisa snorted as she pulled off the last piece of spun candy from the cone. “Besides, Zoey swears they’re just friends. It goes both ways.”
“Whatever.” Noah crossed his arms over his plaid shirt. “Cade and I are friends, and I never jump on his back.”
“I know, sugar.” Elisa patted his arm and winked. “But that’s only because he’d be mad that you wrinkled his shirt.”
“Hey now—” The alarm on Cade’s watch dinged. He sucked in his breath. “It’s time.”
Nerves flooded his stomach. This was it. His to-do list flashed and he could only hope everything had been checked off. So many thoughts running rampant, yet somehow, under all the pressure and expectation, one rose above them all.
He was going to get to see Rosalyn perform again.
And maybe convince her to stick around afterward.
Cade inhaled and turned to make the announcement as the tent flaps burst open.
Owen stepped out in a black top hat and red tailcoat, brandishing a riding crop. Gold brocade danced down the legs of his pants. “Ladies and gentlemen!”
Everyone fell into anticipation. Children stared with wide eyes, until the only sound was the crunching of caramel corn and the whir of the Ferris wheel.
Cade held his breath. After all Owen’s begging to perform on stilts and tightrope walking, Cade had caved and given him the role of ringmaster. Would everyone buy it?
Fully in character, Owen adjusted his gold cravat and lifted his chin with an expression Cade would bet he’d practiced in front of the mirror. He expertly spun his crop and paced in front of the velvet ropes, a mischievous smile filling his face. Between his impish grin and black eyeliner, he looked like a cross between Edward Scissorhands and Willy Wonka.
Cade risked a glance at the crowd, who stared at Owen, mesmerized. Cade’s shoulders eased a notch. They loved it.
When the silence had stretched as long as possible, Owen dipped into a bow. “Let the circus”—he stood abruptly and released a cloud of gold glitter into the air—“begin!”
* * *
Heart pounding, Rosalyn peeked from behind the stage curtain that separated the wings of the tent from the eager audience sitting beneath its roof. The smell of peanuts and crawfish hung in the air like Cajun cologne. In the center of the arena, the trained poodles line-danced on cue to Sweet Home Alabama—an instant crowd pleaser.
Trying to focus on anything but her upcoming performance, Rosalyn watched as the dogs sat, rolled over, and then took a bow as the last strains of the song ended. The crowd erupted into applause—almost as much as they’d given the silver-haired magician. He was scheduled to go back for an encore toward the end of the show—after Rosalyn’s routine and before the singing jugglers and fiery Hula-Hoops.
It was almost her turn.
She let the curtain slip back into place and flexed her fingers, pacing, testing her knee. Sweat dampened the back of her glittery white leotard.
Her first show back since falling.
She’d tweaked her more recent routine to accommodate any stiffness that might show up. She’d thoroughly stretched and hydrated. She’d mentally reviewed her routine, imagining perfection. She was prepared. There was no reason to worry.
She needed more rosin.
“Have you seen a purple bag?” Rosalyn asked the magician who stood scrolling social media. A pair of fake handcuffs dangled from his wrist.
Without looking up, he pointed to her duffel sitting on the sword-trick box next to him. “I didn’t stab it, don’t worry.”
Rosalyn headed toward it, dodging three costumed Hula-Hoopers and one unicyclist as they rushed toward the curtain.
Owen approached as she dug for her trusty bottle of spray-rosin. “You ready?”
She sprayed her hands, then flexed her fingers again. “Ready.” She nodded with what she hoped looked like confidence at the local banker, whom she’d met earlier at Magnolia Days with Cade. He’d made an excellent ringmaster so far.
She followed him toward the curtain. At least tonight, she didn’t have to worry about Blaine watching, critiquing. He’d most likely hear about the circus eventually from media coverage, but not until she was back on her regularly scheduled performance circuit, where he couldn’t complain. Hopefully by then, the paperwork for the annulment would have been accepted, and she could write off that bad chapter. Focus on paying her debt with this last round of performances and then be free to figure out the rest of her story.
So why did staring up at the silks rigged in the center of the rink make her feel like her story was already over?
“Don’t tell me you’re nervous.” Owen adjusted his top hat. “You’re practically famous. Isn’t this what you do?”
“You’d be surprised.” Rosalyn rotated her shoulders, stretching the tension from her neck, slipping into the splits.
“Ouch.” Owen blanched. “How do you do that?”
“Practice—more than most people want to do.” She smiled but it still felt shaky. So did her hands, for that matter. She needed to get it together or her fear of falling would become a reality. And too much was riding on this performance.
For her and the town.
“You’re up after the hoops of fire. I’ll announce you.” Owen flicked her a thumbs-up, then ducked behind the curtain.
Rosalyn closed her eyes, leaning deeper into the stretch. She tuned out the TikTok video streaming from the magician’s phone, Owen’s voice announcing the next act, and the musty odor of rosin emitting from her hands.
She slowly stood from her splits, wishing Cade had been able to make it backstage to tease her and call her Ace and settle her nerves with his quick wit and adorable smile. With his promise of future kisses and his hope for their stories to merge.
Her phone buzzed from her bag, and she dug it out, holding it carefully with two fingers to avoid getting rosin on the screen. Ugh, two missed calls from Blaine. She’d handle that later.
And yay. A text from Cade. Was he reading her mind now?
Cade: You’re going to do amazing. I’ll see you after the show.
She’d needed that. She slid her phone back into her bag, and her smile sobered.
Needing him was scary. After all, last time she’d needed a man, it’d ended in a disaster of lies and international red tape.
Cade was different though. She had to remember that, not be afraid. He wasn’t Blaine, and he wasn’t Mr. Popular from high school anymore, intent on showing off and showing her up. He could be trustworthy.
She rotated her ankles, her wrists. From inside the ring, the crowd applauded the Hula-Hoopers. Fresh tension radiated down her back. Almost time.
When was the last time she’d done aerial for fun ? With no stakes…no one depending on her to carry a show or make a certain score or impress an audience that grew increasingly harder to impress?
Owen started talking into the microphone again, his announcer voice booming through the tent.
She missed the days when simply performing was enough.
“…with graceful acts defying gravity…”
She missed the days when aerial wasn’t a cage.
“…as she literally flies through the air with the greatest of ease…”
And she missed Cade. What if she could stay? Right now . Not in the speculative future.
What if she could actually fly again?
“I give you our very own…Rosalyn Dupree!”
Rosalyn sucked in her breath. Pulled back the curtain. Lowered her shoulders.
Here went everything.
* * *
Something was wrong.
Cade stopped mid-chew of popcorn and watched Rosalyn as the spotlight turned her hair golden. The sparkles in her leotard shimmered and danced under the beam, but her normally rosy complexion looked pasty. And it had nothing to do with the canned lights.
He stood from his aisle seat in the first section of risers, almost forgetting to catch the single red rose he’d bought to give her after the show that had been balancing on his lap. Clutching the rose and the popcorn, he watched as Rosalyn approached her red silks, reaching up and giving them a tentative tug. Then she dipped into a curtsy, which he knew from her tech instructions was the cue to start her song. Still in mid-bow, her eyes flitted around the tent, jumping from section to section.
Like she was looking for someone.
His heart stammered.
She stood upright, her smile wobbly, as the first note of music sounded through the speakers.
Cade waved one arm wide through the air. Popcorn scattered onto the row of people sitting below him, and he winced. “Sorry.” But he didn’t take his eyes off Rosalyn, willing her to find him in the crowd. He waved bigger.
Then her searching eyes locked on him, and her smile grew. Her shoulders lowered. Her cheeks flushed.
He held her gaze, knowing there was no way she could see his face clearly or hear his words, but he muttered “You got it, Ace” anyway. He kept standing until she nodded, then with a smile, mounted her silks.
“Down in front,” a voice from behind hissed.
Oops. He sat, scrunching low and resting the rose across his lap. “Sorry.” But not really. Rosalyn Dupree, needing anything from him ? Made him believe maybe he could fly too.
And with the news he’d figured out late last night, maybe they both could. He’d looked into her financials after the opening dust of Magnolia Days had settled and followed the trails to discover two truths. 1. Rosalyn wasn’t as broke as she seemed to believe, and 2. Blaine had been moving her money into investments that Cade would bet Rosalyn had never approved. Under Rosalyn’s master settings, Cade restricted Blaine’s log-in to keep him out of the accounts until Rosalyn could decide what to do with the information. Even set it to send a notification to his and Rosalyn’s email addresses if Blaine attempted access.
Maybe, maybe this meant she could pay off her loan and not have to go straight back to performing.
Unless she wanted to.
He watched her on the silks, his hopes soaring as high as she balanced. Maybe it’d been selfish not to text her immediately last night with his discovery, but it’d been late, and he wanted to tell her in person. See the relief and joy on her face as she realized the truth.
She had options.
Rosalyn twisted next into the move she’d told him was a hip key rollup, and it was as if she’d transferred all her nervous energy directly to him. She was beauty and grace, while his stomach knotted like a sailor’s practice rope. God, protect her. He prayed as if the fervency of his pleas was the sole thing keeping gravity at bay.
He bounced his leg, scattering popcorn as she flew through her next skill, something that resembled an archer holding a bow and arrow. Then she flipped and expertly wrapped the silks around her legs in time to the music, moving into different positions, each more graceful than the one before.
His leg stilled its bouncing as the hauntingly beautiful song continued, forgetting to be nervous for her as his stare fixed on her soulful expression. She easily translated the melody through the long lines of her body. Her leotard, cut low in the back, showcased the definition of her muscles as she worked. Every time she reached out with one lean arm to beckon the audience, Cade found himself leaning forward. Every time she closed her eyes and reveled in the song, he felt tempted to do the same.
Though not at the expense of taking his gaze from her.
Rosalyn climbed higher as the tempo built, wrapping herself in a fluid whirl of fabric, until she reached the top portion of her silks. The music beat a steady rhythm and she paused. Then as the song reached its big crescendo, she released the silks, dropping several feet to a soundtrack of the audience’s gasps.
The fabric caught her as it was supposed to, as Cade knew it would, but that didn’t stop his heart from fleeing into his throat anyway.
A teenager sitting in front of Cade leaned toward the woman next to her. “I want to learn how to do that!”
The woman twisted around. “Think you can get her back here for a workshop or something?”
Cade swallowed. “I hope to do better than that.” Convince her to never leave.
The rest of her routine passed in a blur of various skills and jaw-dropping flexibility. Cade’s adrenaline raced. If this was considered holding back, well…he only wished he’d bought tickets to see her perform all over the world.
And next time, he would not throw away her flowers after the show.
As the final notes played, Rosalyn slid down her silks onto the ground and into the splits, arms stretched high. The audience leaped to their feet in a standing ovation. She stood, waved, and bowed. Then she met Cade’s eyes before she smiled and disappeared behind the stage curtain.
His heart raced as he shouldered past the throngs of people still clapping. Time to get backstage and deliver this rose.
And some news he hoped was worth a thousand bouquets.