“No.” Rosalyn snorted. “That’s who loaned me the money for the tour I had to pay upfront. Blaine has connections everywhere, but I never assumed like that. He told me the loan was from a bank.”
Cade nodded slowly. “And you had no reason to assume otherwise.”
“Exactly.” A leaf drifted into Rosalyn’s lap, and she picked it up, spun it between her fingers. “After I fell and got hurt, he got weird. Anxious, which is not like him. Said we were on a strict payment plan, and if I didn’t keep up my shows, we’d never make enough to keep current on the loan.”
“Which wouldn’t have been a big deal if the loan had been through a traditional bank.”
“Right. That’s what made him confess where the money was from.” She told Cade about the panic on Blaine’s face, the urgency beneath the surface as he tried to play it off and finally told her the whole story. “I’ve been watching over my shoulder ever since, unsure how big a deal this is. Or if anyone knows where to find me.”
“And you don’t have the money to pay it off, to be free of it?”
“No. I thought I had more money saved than I do, but Blaine handles my business accounts and travel expenses. Last he said, my balance was pretty low.”
Cade frowned. “Blaine handles that?”
“Just the business accounts—he does for several clients. I didn’t have enough cash to fund the whole tour, so I paid part of it from my personal savings and funded the rest.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Apparently, funded it through the Mafia. What kind of low-budget movie is my life right now?”
“Trent did say he could send writers to script us out.” Cade smiled and reached over again, wrapped his arm around her. His side was warm from the sun, and she soaked in the comfort. He smelled like designer cologne and hope. “Don’t worry—we’ll get this figured out. I’ll file those contest forms, and you’ll get unmarried as fast as you were married.”
The birds were chirping again, the sun peeking around a cloud. Rosalyn closed her eyes, laid her head on his shoulder. “You make it sound so easy.”
“We just have to go through the steps.” Cade’s frame stiffened, as if he were suddenly holding his breath. “I still think there’s something shady though. Do you mind letting me snoop further?”
“Go ahead. You’ve already helped this much.” She’d be a fool to turn down Cade’s expertise. If she’d let him help sooner, maybe she could have been legally clear by now.
“I’ll need access to your accounts.”
She paused, nodded. Cade, she could trust. “No problem. I’ll get you everything.”
“Good.” Cade dipped his head to rest his cheek against her hair. His voice rumbled low in her ear. “Now, in the meantime—there’s this mild issue of an entire circus to put on, a town to save, and a week in which to do it.”
She smiled into his shoulder. “I’m prepared to give my best performance yet.”
Starting with pretending she didn’t want to tilt her head up, press her lips against Cade’s cheek, and start a fire sure to burn them both.
eighteen
For better or for worse, Magnolia Days had arrived.
Cade strolled the roped off festival grounds, roughly a quarter mile from Village Lane on the south side of town and narrowly dodged a stray puddle. After several days of rain, the sun had come out and almost everything had dried. It now shone brightly in a crisp blue sky, while puffs of clouds drifted lazily across the expanse, casting the occasional shadow over rows of decorated booths arranged across the grounds.
The red and white striped circus tent stood tall in the back of the field, ready to house components of the circus as they arrived during the week. A raised stage had been constructed in the middle of the lot, complete with sound system and risers for musical performances, and the Ferris wheel was partially constructed, set to be completed by Wednesday. Vendors were putting final touches on their booths, and the food trucks—judging by the various heavenly aromas wafting from the parking lot—were prepping for the coming rush once Magnolia Days opened in half an hour.
He’d pulled it off.
Cade lifted one hand to Farmer Branson, who carefully stacked an array of fresh vegetables on a stand. Two tents down, Miley scowled as she arranged logo mugs on a table next to pre-packaged coffee.
Cade checked his watch. Almost noon—odd that Rosalyn wasn’t here. She’d promised to come early and help vendors with last minute needs, plus she’d been eager to see inside the circus tent to figure out her rigging for her first performance Wednesday night. They’d worked together this past week on the final preparations for the festival, and he’d filed the contest paperwork for her as promised. He’d also gotten information from his deep dive into her accounts, and she wasn’t going to like it. Now it was a matter of when to tell her without scaring her further. She’d finally stopped looking over her shoulder this past week.
Though he’d started looking over his.
“Cade!” Sadie waved him over from her secondhand books booth, a light wind blowing the hem of her maxi skirt. “Can you give me a hand with this banner?”
He hurried over and took the end of the banner Sadie had created using book pages and twine and held it to the corner of the canopy. “About here?”
“Perfect.” She handed him the hook and he stood on tiptoe to secure it in place. “And don’t worry—no books were harmed in the making of this banner. These pages are from books that came to my shop already destroyed.”
“I would never assume otherwise.” No one loved books like Sadie—not even Mrs. Peters. “Need anything else?”
