Page 32 of Small Town Sash

"Sure," Braden said, shrugging. "Hit me."

"Be honest with her," Danny suggested. "And with yourself. If this thing with Hadley is real, it'll weather the storm."

"Easy to say, tough to do," Braden muttered.

"Most things worth doing are," Hunter pointed out. "Besides, if this pageant queen can't handle a little rain, maybe she's not your queen."

"Harsh," Braden chuckled, despite the weight in his chest.

"Truth often is," Danny said, offering a half-smile.

"Thanks, guys," Braden said, pushing himself up from his seat. "I think I need some shut-eye."

"Remember," Danny called after him as he started toward the stairs. "Honesty, patience, and a smidge of courage. It's the perfect recipe."

"Got it," Braden replied without turning around. "The perfect recipe," he repeated quietly to himself.

He trudged up the stairs, the chatter of his instructors fading behind him. In the quiet of his room, he let Dash out of his kennel, then flopped onto his bed, shoes still on. The ceiling stared back, blank and unhelpful. Hadley's face floated into his mind's eye—those piercing blue eyes, the curve of her smile. A pang of longing hit him, sharp and sudden.

"Why does this have to be so complicated?" he whispered to the empty room.

There was no answer, just the soft whisper of the night wind against the windowpane. With a heavy sigh, Braden kicked off his shoes and rolled onto his side, closing his eyes against the images of what could be. He drifted off to sleep with Hadley's laughter echoing in his dreams, a bittersweet symphony of 'what ifs.'

Chapter Nine

The towering stage lights threw Hadley's shadow long across the backstage floor, mirroring the stretch of her patience. Braden stood across the room, but every time she glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes, his concern was tangible. She tried to focus on her final talent practice while Hadley's mother flitted around her like an anxious hummingbird, dabbing at imaginary makeup smears.

"Stand up straight, Hadley," her mother clucked, poking at her posture. "And don't slouch your shoulders."

Hadley complied with a sigh, her blue eyes flickering to meet Braden's brown ones. He offered her a sympathetic half-smile.

"Maybe ease up?" Braden ventured, but her mother shot him a look that could curdle milk.

"Judge Harding, this is important," she said, her tone frosty. "And you should get back to where the rest of the judges are to go over your own tasks."

"It's not like it's life or death," Hadley muttered under her breath with frustration.

"Isn't it, though?" Mrs. Shomacker's voice boomed from behind them, thick with sarcasm. "A beauty pageant is serious business, after all."

"Shouldn't you be terrorizing someone else's daughter?" Hadley shot back, feeling her cheeks flush with a mix of anger and embarrassment.

"Ooh, I see Hadley's claws are out," Lily chimed in, flanked by a small posse of pageant girls. Their laughter was as sharp as their manicured nails.

"Focus on your catwalk, not your catfight," Tina sneered, flipping her hair with practiced disdain.

"Hey," Braden stepped forward, protective instinct written all over him. "Back off."

"Easy, hero. We're just having a little fun," Lily cooed mockingly, but her eyes were cold. "But if I back off your favorite, will you give me a better score?"

"Fun? Favorite?" Hadley echoed, her confidence wavering like a candle flame in a draft. "You clearly don't know what you're talking about."

"Come on, Hadley," her mother urged, either oblivious to the tension or doing her best to ignore it. "You need to practice your routine."

"Right, my routine," Hadley repeated, trying to ignore the snickers and sidelong glances. She needed to focus, to prove she was more than just a pretty face, but singing in front of everyone right now was the last thing she wanted to do.

"Remember what we talked about," Braden whispered as she walked away. "You've got this."

"Thanks," Hadley whispered back, though her heart thudded doubtfully.

---