“How’s it going?” Cadence inquired, no longer ready to push up out of his chair.

“It is going. It is going,” Elliott replied, tossing his jacket on the back of the recliner, the breeze brushing Cadence’s hair up off of her shoulders. “You will never guess who I ran into downstairs.”

Cadence knew by his happy demeanor he must not have any idea about Sam, and she supposed she’d have to tell him, but there was no reason to spoil it yet. “Who?”

“Your ...