by Liz Johnson
When you’re ready to follow your dreams, I’ll be where the music is playing. Come find me.
Love, Natalie
Love. Had they really thrown that about so easily back then? He couldn’t remember her ever saying it directly to him. He didn’t recall if he’d ever said it to her.
It had just always been there. Understood.
But if she’d really loved him, how could she have left so easily? She’d strolled away without a backward glance. Except for this letter, this note.
It wasn’t much. But it was something. A gentle nudge that maybe she hadn’t been wholly heartless in her departure.
Still, had she really been so certain he’d follow his dreams that she’d headed straight for the one place he’d always talked about?
His gut gave a solid flip, and he sighed, leaning back against a metal support between two windows. She’d been so convinced he wouldn’t give up his music that she’d gone to Nashville and waited for him to catch up.
He hadn’t given it up. Exactly. But he’d settled for little shows within a stone’s throw of the dairy. Because it had been his responsibility. His legacy.
He’d never found his way to Nashville. But Nashville had come to the island. And it was knocking on his door.
“We could skip it, couldn’t we?” Natalie gave Russell her most hopeful smile and a little squeeze of his hand.
“Skip it?” He shook his head. “Why would we do that? Come on. We’re going to be late.” He didn’t release her hand, instead giving it a solid tug.
She offered only a grimace and a glance over her shoulder toward the candy-apple-red front door, which stood wide open to make way for a steady breeze off the bay. “We could go for a walk instead. It’s lovely outside.”
He frowned and followed her gaze through the screen, over the porch, and to the overcast sky beyond. “No it’s not. It’s about ready to rain, and the wind is starting to pick up.”
“True. But you haven’t really experienced the island until you’ve been for a long walk in the rain.” Even to her own ears, the words sounded hollow, ridiculous. But she tried to make up for that with a smooth grin and an enticing wink. “It’ll be fun.”
“This will be too.” He pulled her to him, tucking her into his side and wrapping an arm around her waist.
She felt like she fit there. Protected. Cherished. So why did he not understand?
Because you haven’t told him.
The truth hit home with the force of a baseball bat. And when it connected with the ball in her chest, she could almost hear the crack.
Honesty. What a fresh idea. She could be honest with him.
Taking a steadying breath, she forced herself to make eye contact. “You know I’m a terrible cook.”
He laughed. Not quite at her. But at the idea. “Honey, I don’t care if you can’t boil water.”
“But I do.” She dropped her arm from around his back and tried to pull away, but he held fast. “I’m not good at this kind of thing.”
The humor in his deep brown eyes faded a fraction as his eyebrows met over the bridge of his nose. Parallel lines formed there, and the weight of his scrutiny was heavier than all the eyes at Grady’s had ever been. He wasn’t just curious. He wanted to know.
To know her. And her whys.
But she’d much rather keep them buried deep below the island’s red clay.
“I’ll be right there with you.” He pulled her even closer to him and kissed her nose. Then her cheek. And when she tried to open her mouth to make another argument, he kissed her lips. “This will be fun,” he vowed.
Because she was sure that if she pushed again, he’d only stare harder, dig deeper, she forced herself to smile and nod. “All right.”
As they entered the kitchen, she tried to muster a smile that matched Caden’s. But it wasn’t easy. The executive chef bustled about the kitchen island with a toothy grin and a twinkle in her eyes. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she said to two other couples.
Natalie recognized the Butlers from breakfast that morning, and she’d seen the other pair but didn’t know their names. Both of the women stood about half a step in front of their husbands, whose arms were crossed. Furrowed brows seemed to have been sold in bulk, and Natalie felt a sudden camaraderie with the men.
When Caden looked up from placing a large bowl of potatoes in the center of the island, she smiled right at Natalie. “Great! We’re all here. And everyone has a partner, which you’ll need to finish up on time. Today we’re going to do a new take on a classic shepherd’s pie, which has been a favorite on the island for over a hundred years. One of you will peel potatoes for the garlic mashed potato topping, and the other will be working on the beef and veggies for the bottom.”
The announcement seemed to catch the attention of the men, and Russell gave a low mumble of appreciation. Meat and potatoes. That’s apparently all it took to get his attention.
Apparently she should pay attention.
Suddenly his leg vibrated, and he pulled his phone out of his pocket. She gave it a quick glance as he read the text that had just come through, his jaw growing tighter with each pass of his gaze.
“Is everything okay?” she whispered.
He nodded. “Just a sec. There was a problem with one of the tracks Jodi laid down last week.”
As he whipped out a two-thumbed response, Caden asked, “So who wants to peel and who wants to chop?”
The other couples looked at each other, pointing at themselves and mouthing their preferences, faces already beginning to brighten as they caught Caden’s enthusiasm. Meanwhile Natalie stood around like a fool. While Russell was distracted with his work emergency, she stared at the floor, praying that no one would notice her. She reached for her pockets, which weren’t there, and then dropped her hands to her sides. Russell kept up a steady stream of typing, and she cringed when the banter around the room stopped.
She knew the sound of silence. And what it meant.
Everyone had stopped what they were doing to stare at her. At the person who least wanted to be here.
Forcing her backbone straight, she lifted her chin high and swallowed against the desert that had become her mouth. Sure enough, five pairs of eyes stared in her direction. And one stared at a phone.
She lifted one shoulder and said, “I guess I’ll peel.” Maybe she would do less damage with a peeler than a knife.
Caden’s eyes darted in Russell’s direction, her questions clear but unspoken. Too bad Natalie couldn’t say for sure if this was what they could expect from her fiancé this afternoon. It had been his idea, but when something came up at the studio, he would deal with it. He always did.
She shrugged again and said, “P-p—” Taking a gulp of air and forcing herself to slow down, she tried again. “Point me to my peeler.”
Everyone chuckled and moved to their stations. Except Russell.
He was about five seconds behind, and when he looked up from his work, there was an arch to his eyebrow that said not everything had been handled.
“Where do you want me?” Natalie asked.
Caden waved her hand toward the counter. “You’re over here with Ryan and Gina.”
Natalie took her place around the square island and picked up the kitchen tool that looked more like a weapon. It felt strange in her hand. Maybe it was the first time she’d ever wielded one of these. Certainly the first time in her memory.
She grabbed a rich, brown potato and weighed it in her hand before setting it on the counter. Holding its end, she swiped down the middle of it. Suddenly the entire potato slipped from her grip. It flew over the kitchen island and smacked into Shannon Butler’s chest before bouncing off the counter and landing with a thud by her sandal. Shannon’s eyes grew wide as she let out a startled laugh. It was followed by another and another until the whole room had joined in.
Everyone except Natalie, who could only look between her potato and the peeler that had most certainly conspired against her.
> Perfect. Just as she’d feared, she’d become the laughingstock of Caden’s cooking class. And probably in record time. It had taken approximately eight seconds to go from doorway to class joke.
Each chuckle grated against her, knotting her nerves and making her hand shake. Dropping the peeler on the counter, she swallowed the memories that this moment conjured. Pointed fingers. Whispered words. Mocking giggles.
Her gaze jumped to Russell as she hoped for a rescue. But her hero was focused on his phone, his thumbs flying to send another text.
He probably didn’t realize that she was the butt of the rousing guffaws. He didn’t even realize they were laughing at all. Work didn’t just call. It demanded. “There’s no halfway in the music biz,” he’d told her early on.
It was true. It made good sense. There were more than enough aspiring musicians and wannabe producers roaming Music City’s narrow streets to fill every studio in town. A thousand times. Finding the next big thing, the next great voice, was only the first step. Launching that career wasn’t for those willing to give 90 percent. Or even 99.
Music was everything. It had to be. Even if it meant leaving his fiancée standing like a fool in a ridiculous cooking class. That was the deal she’d made.
But she suddenly wondered if she was getting the short end of that bargain.
“Okay. It’s no big deal. It happens to everyone.” Caden couldn’t quite keep the chuckle out of her voice as she stepped up to Natalie’s side. The softness in her voice matched the kindness in her eyes as she picked up another spud. “Hold it like this.” She wrapped her short fingers around the potato’s waist, her grip firm as she demonstrated. “Then bring your peeler across the long way.”
Natalie picked up another PEI potato and held it just like Caden suggested. But before she could take a swipe at it, Russell caught her eye. He waved his phone even as he drew it to his ear. “I’ve got to take this. It could be a little while.”
She opened her mouth to tell him this had been his idea and he couldn’t leave her on her own. But with a conciliatory smile to Caden, he slipped into the dining room, his footsteps quickly disappearing toward the front of the house. When the screen door slapped closed, she cringed. Every gaze that had followed his disappearance snapped back to her.
Wonderful.
Natalie attempted a smile, but her bottom lip quivered with something she couldn’t control.
As she looked into Caden’s eyes, she could hear the chef’s words from earlier in the class. Everyone has a partner, which you’ll need. Everyone has a partner …
“Umm …” Caden cleared her throat, her eyes roaming the room as though she was hunting for a previously invisible partner for Natalie.
The other two couples followed Caden’s lead. Natalie could do nothing but stare down and press her hand to the knot in her stomach.
Suddenly another door slammed, this one much closer than the front of the house. And the voice that followed it tore the knot inside her apart.
“Hey, Caden, I brought you that cheese you asked—oh, sorry. I didn’t know you were busy.”
Natalie looked up, but only so far as Caden’s face, which lit up like a cityscape at night. Her eyes brightened and the corners of her mouth flipped up.
No. This was not good. Not at all.
Natalie could read Caden’s plan in her eyes, and she wanted to scream that this was a terrible idea. The worst. Ever.
But it was too late.
“Justin, I’m so glad you’re here. Why don’t you join us?”
9
Justin wasn’t entirely sure what he’d walked in on. Caden looked straight at him like she’d hooked a marlin. A woman he didn’t know—most likely a guest—stooped to pick up a potato at her toe. And Natalie looked like she was praying for a Jonah moment.
There never was a giant fish when he needed one.
He’d gladly suffer the same for a swift exit because there was no telling what Caden had gotten in her mind. But he’d recognized as soon as he’d stepped inside that he didn’t want to know. Whatever it was, he didn’t want any part of it. Except he’d never been able to say no to her.
“Come on in.” Caden motioned for him to step up to the counter, and when he didn’t move, she grabbed his arm. “Natalie needs a partner.”
“Oh really? Where’s that fancy fiancé of hers?”
As soon as the words popped out, he wished he could stuff them back in. Even more so when Natalie’s neck turned the color of a beet, her eyes focused on her feet. The stiffness in her shoulders said she had no intention of looking up at him.
Especially not when Potato Woman let out a strained giggle.
Just great. He’d embarrassed her in front of a full room.
If he had to guess, he’d say her fiancé hadn’t needed to be tossed overboard. He’d probably jumped ship all on his own from what could only be one of Caden’s new cooking classes. He’d heard Dillon telling his mom about them. It was some sort of marketing ploy to help the inn gain more guests. And if the smiles on the faces of the knife-wielding guests at the counter were any indication, the ploy had worked.
Caden’s smile had dimmed, and the tilt of her eyebrows broadcast a very clear message. Be nice. Or else.
He’d gotten that same glare from Caden more than once. “Be nice” seemed to be her motto. And something he’d forgotten how to do.
At least where Natalie was concerned.
His mother had often pinched his arm when he was misbehaving as a child, and Caden’s response seemed to do the same to his heart.
“Um …” He shoved his free hand into his pocket, the other awkwardly holding the cheese round. “I’m sorry.”
Natalie peeked up at him from under the fringe of her red hair, her gaze unblinking yet shrouded. He couldn’t quite read whatever was going on behind her eyes, but Caden seemed to think his apology was enough.
“Good. Good. You’ll join us then?”
It was definitely a question, one he needed to answer. Though it wasn’t his question alone. It took two people to partner, and he wasn’t about to force Natalie to work with him. But he still couldn’t read her body language.
“Well, if …” He motioned to Natalie, hoping she would fill in the question. Knowing she wouldn’t want him to ask it aloud. Praying she would turn him down.
“Uh, no. It’s okay. I’m sure J-J-Justin needs to get back.” Her entire body cringed under the weight of her stutter, and his gut clenched too. He’d thought she had kicked that particular habit back in early high school. But maybe not.
It transported him to another time when he’d risked a bloody nose and a stern lecture about fighting from his dad in order to protect Natalie from the mockery of their classmates.
He could chart a course from that point to this one, and it was in a canyon called bitterness.
If he was honest with himself, he was still there. He’d quit looking for a way out. He’d gotten used to wallowing in that gorge. Truth was, he kind of liked it. It was familiar. Comfortable.
Lonely.
Which was why he’d given that pretty brunette the brush-off after the concert. Because being alone was easier than letting someone else get too close and risking another broken heart.
He sought out Natalie’s gaze and held it, even as she tried to look away. He swayed with her to keep their eyes locked and tried to read everything beyond the mask she wore for everyone else in the room.
Suddenly her stare darted to the door that led to the dining room. Maybe it was the glint of hope in her eyes or the wistful twitch of her lips, but somehow he knew she was looking for her fiancé, who still hadn’t arrived.
Who still had the power to change his life in ways he’d only dreamed of.
There was no telling if it was Natalie’s faltering smile or the hope that Russell Jacobs might be willing to put him in contact with a Nashville producer that made him take a small step forward and wave toward the counter. “Well, since I’m here …”
Natalie’s head snapped toward him. Her mouth opened in what had to be an intended refusal, but her lips stopped moving and hung slack for several long ticks of the dining room clock. The whole room seemed to freeze, everyone watching her for her next move.
He could almost see her weighing her options, deciding which response would draw more attention—carrying on alone or sending him away.
Only she could answer that. And only she knew why it still mattered. But there was no mistaking the uncertainty in her gaze now, in the rigidness of her stance as she refused to look at anyone but him. It still mattered.
Her discomfort pinched at his chest again, and he brushed a hand across the spot as though he could dislodge it.
No such luck.
“Okay.” Natalie’s voice barely carried across the silent kitchen. “If you want to stay.”
“Perfect!” Caden cut in, giving neither of them an opportunity to react to Natalie’s response. Not that he wanted—or needed—to.
“Pick up a knife and start cutting those veggies.” Caden turned him toward the counter, and he stumbled toward it, suddenly wishing he’d paid more attention when his mom had tried to teach him how to cook all those years ago. If he wasn’t careful, he might end up making Potato Woman a Carrot Woman too.
He fell into place beside a tall man and a very short woman who looked like she might need a stool to reach the veggies on the counter, but she wielded her knife with a sure hand. In short order Justin fell into the rhythm of watching and mimicking her. He wasn’t the only one. The other man, whose green eyes never stopped moving, seemed to be following her every step.
Still, Justin’s carrots weren’t nearly as even and clean as his neighbor’s. But Caden gave him a kind smile as she looked around his arm and patted his shoulder. “Good work.”
Before he could enjoy her compliment, a screech behind them turned everyone around. “Watch out!”
It was too late. It was only a potato peel, but it had the perfect distance and height. Before he could duck, it smacked into his cheek, wet and slimy as it slid down to the front of his plaid shirt. With the back of his hand, he wiped at the trail that had been left on his face, then picked up the offending sliver by its end, holding it at arm’s length like Natalie had done with the worms every time they’d gone fishing.
