by Cindy Kirk
“How did I not know there was a torch singing competition tonight?” Marigold kept hold of Cade’s hand as she turned to Ami.
They’d finished their sampling and now stood at the entrance to the large ballroom. Prim and Max had purchased a table for eight and, according to a recent text, were already inside.
“This poster says walk-ons welcome.” Cade gave Marigold’s fingers a squeeze. “You should give it a try. I’ll cheer you on.”
“I only sing in church because it would be rude not to participate,” Marigold told him.
“Trust me. You don’t want to hear her sing solo.” Ami’s eyes held a teasing glint.
“I’m not that bad,” Marigold protested automatically, then had to grin. “Okay, I am that bad. Fin is the singer in the family.”
“You should sign up.” Ami turned to Fin, who’d just walked up.
“For what?” Fin wore a shimmery red dress with ice pick heels that showed off her legs to full advantage.
Marigold gestured to the sign.
Fin studied it along with the list of judges. “Don’t tempt me. I might call your bluff and do it.”
Her sister’s nonchalant attitude didn’t fool Marigold. The second Fin had seen Jeremy Rakes’s name as a judge, she’d been hooked.
Marigold didn’t blame her. Who wouldn’t want to stand on a stage in front of a former boyfriend and show him you were as pretty and desirable as you’d been at eighteen?
While Fin left to sign up, Ami and Beck strolled over to visit with Gladys Bertholf and her son, Frank. Marigold and Cade located table fifteen. It was near the edge of the dance floor, close enough to have a good view of the stage but not too close to the band to make conversation impossible.
Prim’s purse was on the table, but there was no sign of her or Max.
Cade glanced around. “Where do you think they are?”
“Probably on the dance floor.” Marigold knew her sister and brother-in-law were out there somewhere, but the shiny hardwood floor that had been brought in for the event was already packed with women in pretty dresses and men in dark suits.
Overhead, a glittery red net held balloons of pink, white, and red. The lights had been dimmed and little lamps at each table surrounded by a dozen tea lights added a golden glow and romantic ambiance to the scene.
Jackie White, looking healthy and strong—despite her cane—stood at the microphone, belting out a bluesy version of “At Last.”
The song wrapped around Marigold like a lover’s hand. Tonight, it would be Cade’s hands that would be on her body. Earlier, Fin had given her a sly wink and informed Marigold she’d be spending tonight at the family home.
Marigold tossed her purse on the table and held out her hand to Cade. “Let’s dance.”
He didn’t move, his gaze fixed on her shiny black clutch. “Should you leave it there? Anyone could take it.”
She gave a little laugh and slipped her arm through his. “This is Good Hope, not Detroit. Besides, if someone steals my purse, I’ll call the sheriff. He’ll track ’em down.”
Though still not appearing convinced, Cade let her tug him to the dance floor. She nearly sighed when he pulled her into his arms. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you in a suit since Shannon’s wedding.”
The tailored cut of the charcoal-gray suit emphasized his broad shoulders and lean, athletic build. The red, paisley-patterned tie against the pristine white shirt provided a nice pop of color.
“What about New Year’s?”
“You wore a tux, remember?”
“I remember when you walked into the parlor.” His lips lifted in a smile as they moved in perfect sync to the music. “You took my breath away.”
Something in the way he said the words had her tightening her hold on him, resting her head against his chest. In the past couple of days, this is what she’d missed.
This closeness. This connection. Him.
When she was with Cade, the thought of leaving him behind was heartbreaking. But she would not ruin this night with thoughts of the future. “I remember the night of Shannon’s wedding reception.”
“When I swept you off your feet?”
She chuckled. “I think we swept each other.”
“Agreed.” His hold tightened on her. “I know we—”
“Listen.” Her head shot up. “That’s my sister.”
They continued swaying but shifted their attention to the stage. Like a sultry angel in red, Fin stood in the spotlight, microphone in hand. Her alto was as rich and pure as it had been when she’d been the lead in high school musicals.
“What song is that?” Cade asked.
“Cry Me a River.” Marigold’s smile faded as she listened to the words. It would be that way for her and Cade. There was no chance for them.
To have him she’d have to give up on the dream, the vow she’d made all those years ago. As Fin continued to sing, Marigold thought of her mother. She’d lost her. Soon, she’d lose Cade.
In that moment, Marigold desperately wanted to go back to the apartment, make love to Cade, let herself drown in his taste, his touch. But she knew sex would only be a temporary solution to the ache.
He wanted to stay in Good Hope.
She had a dream to pursue.
Cry me a river . . .
The last note of the song sounded. Marigold added her applause to the rest, knowing she’d be crying a whole ocean in the not-too-distant future.
“I don’t care what the judges decided. You were the best.” Steve covered Fin’s hand with his and gave it a squeeze. “I’d nearly forgotten how beautifully you sing.”
“Thank you, Daddy. But I think you might be a little prejudiced.” Though Fin demurred, Marigold could see their father’s words pleased her.
“You came in second.” Prim lifted her glass in a salute. “I’d say that was pretty good, considering you winged it.”
“It didn’t sound as if you winged it.” Steve brought a hand to his heart. “Your rendition brought tears to my eyes. I wish your mother could have been here. She’d have been so proud.”
There was a long pause. His misty-eyed gaze encompassed the table. “Proud of all her girls.”
Not me, not now, not yet. Marigold lifted her chin. If things went as she planned, very soon she’d make her mother proud.
“I didn’t realize you caught Fin’s performance.” Marigold took a sip of the wine Beck had ordered for the entire table.
“I was on the far side of the dance floor.” Steve leaned back in his chair. “You didn’t see me. You only had eyes for this guy.”
Her father jerked his head in Cade’s direction.
Marigold felt her cheeks warm.
“Who were you dancing with, Dad?” Prim lifted a glass of club soda garnished with a thin slice of lime.
This time it was their father’s turn to blush. “Lynn Chapin took pity on this old man.”
Marigold saw Ami’s expression brighten.
“You’re not old.” Fin rolled her eyes. “If I’m recalling correctly, you and Lynn are around the same age.”
“Lynn’s husband was a banker. Died about ten years ago.” Though Cade spoke confidently, there was just the slightest question in his tone. He’d done a good job of steeping himself in the history of Good Hope’s citizenry, but the learning curve was steep.
“Sounds about right.” Marigold relaxed, happy to have the focus off of her and Cade. “I’ve always liked Lynn.”
“Who doesn’t?” Ami piped up, a ginger ale in her hand. “She’s a lovely woman.”
Steve lifted a hand, palm out. “Mrs. Chapin and I are simply friends.”
“That’s what Marigold and Cade said.” Ami grinned. “Look at them now.”
If Ami would have been sitting closer, Marigold would have given her a swift kick.
An awkward silence settled over the table.
“Oh, look, here comes Eliza and Jeremy.” Prim spoke as if that was a good thing instead of something likely to add even mo
re tension to the table.
As usual, Eliza looked stunning. Her glittery black dress hugged her slender frame, while her bright red lipstick popped and drew the eye.
Jeremy’s hand-tailored dark suit fit him perfectly. For tonight’s festivities he’d combed his blond hair into some semblance of order. Despite the effort, he still managed to look like he should be surfing on a beach in California.
“Sorry about the loss.” Jeremy’s gaze went immediately to Fin when he reached the table. “The vote was close.”
“Performing in front of a crowd was a kick.” Somewhat absently Fin ran her finger around the lip of her glass. “I hadn’t been on a stage since high school.”
“I remember your junior year when you played Maria, and Jeremy was Tony.” Prim sighed. “You two brought the house down.”
“Weren’t you in West Side Story, too, Eliza?” Ami asked in what Marigold guessed was a deliberate attempt to pull the other woman into the conversation.
“I played Anita, the one who tries to shield Maria from the dangers of the gang.” Eliza slanted a glance at Jeremy. “Mine was more of a dancing role.”
“Good times.” Jeremy smiled at Eliza, then turned to Cade. “I heard you caught the vandals.”
“You’re on top of the news.” Cade’s expression held obvious satisfaction. “Two boys from Egg Harbor just having fun. Their words, not mine.”
“The department is doing good work under your leadership, Cade.” Jeremy slapped him on the shoulder. “Eliza is on the town board. She tells me they’re behind you.”
“You fit right in. You’ve exceeded our expectations. Which is why I’m concerned that—” Eliza suddenly stopped.
Puzzlement filled Cade’s eyes. “Concerned about what?”
Eliza waved away the question. “Later. This isn’t the time nor the place for that discussion.”
Marigold knew Cade wouldn’t let it drop. When something piqued his interest, the man could be a bulldog.
Cade made a get-on-with-it gesture with one hand.
Still, Eliza hesitated. She slanted a glance at Jeremy, received a nod.
“I received a disturbing call from my brother several hours ago. Ethan lives in Illinois now, in a little town called Village Green.”
“I’ve heard of the place.” It was Beck who spoke first. His dark brows pulled together as if he was searching his memory for more. Then he smiled. “Where history comes alive . . .”
“I believe that’s the town slogan.” Eliza’s serious gray eyes returned to Cade. “Someone on the Village Green town council was aware Ethan grew up here. The councilwoman asked him if he knew you. Ethan didn’t, so he called me. I gave you a good recommendation.”
Marigold’s stomach knotted. “Recommendation?”
“They’re seriously considering Cade for a chief of police position that will open up later this spring.” Eliza’s gaze remained fixed on Cade. “Jeremy and I discussed the matter on the way here. We need to know what it will take to keep you.”
Marigold’s mind raced as a roaring filled her ears.
Beside her, Cade chuckled. “Helping me win the upcoming election would be a good start.”
Everyone laughed. But even when the topic finally switched to the success of the Hearts and Cherries Fashion Show, everything inside Marigold continued to churn. She knew she was being irrational. If Cade lost the election, he couldn’t stay. But how many times had he told her he loved Good Hope, insisted this was where he wanted to make his home?
Only here. Nowhere else. Not in a big city. Certainly not with her.
Marigold pushed the thought aside as of no consequence. What mattered was that every person in her family had been doing all they could to get him elected. Yet he’d gone behind their backs and applied for another job.
Bubbling fury swelled to full boil.
She’d been a fool.
The hurt, anger, and sense of betrayal Marigold had experienced when she’d discovered her mother had sent her off to school pretending all was well—when it wasn’t—slammed into her.
Trust. Without it, a relationship had nothing.
She and Cade Rallis had nothing.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Let’s dance.” Pushing back his chair, Cade stood and held out a hand out to Marigold.
He didn’t want to talk about the election or about Fin’s amazing voice. All he wanted was to take the woman he loved into his arms and whirl her around the dance floor. He wanted to see her eyes shine. He wanted her to hold on to him and never let him go.
Marigold ignored the outstretched hand and made no move to rise. The blue eyes that glittered so brightly at the start of the evening had turned frosty.
“I believe I’ll sit this one out.” The cool smile she shot him only added to his unease.
When he started to take his seat, she waved a hand. “Go ahead and dance.”
Cade had no desire to dance with anyone else. Unfortunately, the person he wanted to hold in his arms was now regarding him as if he were a snake that had slithered out from under a rock.
He had no idea what he’d done to piss Marigold off, but he was determined to find out and make it right.
Offering a pleasant smile, Cade leaned over and took Marigold’s arm in a firm grip. “There’s something in the lobby I think you’ll be interested in seeing. Since you don’t want to dance, I’ll show it to you now.”
Cade caught her sisters exchanging glances. He pretended not to notice.
After a momentary hesitation, Marigold rose with a grace that was as much a part of her as those blonde curls, and smiled brightly at her family. “I won’t be long.”
No more we, the trained observer in him noticed. During the last hour, he and Marigold had gone from being a couple to two singles.
They didn’t speak—at least not to each other—while exiting the ballroom. As they threaded their way through the linen-clad tables, they were stopped frequently by friends wanting to say hello.
When they finally reached the lobby, Cade kept moving, continuing down a long hallway that led, well, he wasn’t sure where it led. But they needed privacy, and they certainly weren’t going to find it in the ballroom or lobby.
The hallway turned, then dead-ended. When they could go no farther, he stopped. Two wingback chairs in a bright floral pattern sat separated by a table holding a vase of red roses.
Marigold looked at the scene, then back at Cade. She arched a brow. “Really? This is what you wanted to show me?”
He ignored the disdain woven through the words. “What’s going on, Marigold?”
For a second something flickered in those blue eyes, then the shutter dropped.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Avoiding his gaze, Marigold dropped into one of the chairs and took great care straightening the skirt of her dress.
“Everything was fine. We were having a good time.” Cade fought to remain calm. “All of a sudden you’re freezing me out. I’d like to know why.”
“I see why Alice dumped you.”
Cade inwardly flinched. He lifted a brow.
“The job in Village Green.” She inclined her head, blue eyes narrowed to slits. “When were you going to tell me about that little side plan?”
“It’s not a big deal,” he began.
“It is to me.” She snapped out the words.
The distress on her face told him that, for whatever reason, discussing his Village Green application was important.
“I applied for that position and the one in Good Hope last spring. The current chief of police in Village Green changed his mind and decided to stay until he turned sixty-five. The search for a replacement was halted. I didn’t care because I’d already been offered the position here.”
Since Cade still hadn’t figured out why any of this mattered to Marigold, he continued to talk, making sure not to stint on details. “I got an e-mail from the city administrator advising they were now ready to actively search again. They asked if
I was interested in being considered. I said yes.”
“You told me you liked Good Hope.” A muscle in Marigold’s tightly clenched jaw jumped. “You told me you didn’t want to live anywhere else.”
“I also mentioned if I lose the election in March, I’ll be out of a job.” He kept his tone matter-of-fact. “It seemed wise to have a backup plan.”
“It obviously didn’t occur to you to mention this backup plan to me.”
The lack of notification appeared to be the stumbling block. “I’d probably have mentioned it.”
“Probably?” She surged to her feet and her voice cracked. “Probably?”
Her temper ignited his own. Cade slowly stood, clenching and unclenching his hands at his sides.
“What does it matter where I go, where I work?” The anger and the bitterness that rose up every time he thought of her upcoming departure had his voice going hard. “You’ll be leaving for Los Angeles. Or New York. Or wherever you decide to go. I certainly don’t have a say in that decision.”
“Why would you?” she shot back.
“You’re right. I’m only the man you’re having sex with . . . temporarily.” His anger disappeared down a dark hole, replaced by profound weariness. “You accuse me of not communicating. You appear to be forgetting that each time I tried to discuss the future, you changed the subject or blew me off.”
When her eyes flashed and she opened her mouth as if to protest, he held up a hand.
“You’re right. That isn’t entirely accurate. What is true is each time I brought up the possibility of you staying in Good Hope, you threatened to end our relationship.” Cade gave a humorless laugh. “You’ve been quite clear from the beginning that we have no future. It took me a while to get that in my head.”
“I—I don’t like being lied to,” she stammered. “I’ve been nothing but honest with you.”
Even as his gut clenched, he had to agree.
Cade resisted the almost overwhelming urge to pull her into his arms. To beg her to . . . what? Stay? Give up her hopes and dreams for him?
No. She was meant to soar and find the success she’d sought since she was ten. He would never try to hold her back. She should know that by now. Should know him.