Читать книгу A Mom For Christmas - Lorraine Beatty - Страница 11

Chapter Two

Noah parked the car behind the historic mansion and shut off the engine. The twelve-room Victorian home was one of the oldest in Dover. His great-great-grandparents had founded Dover, then known as Junction City, in the mid-1800s. After the great fire that destroyed many of the wooden structures, the town was rebuilt and renamed Do Over, which had evolved into Dover. The town’s most prominent citizens built their homes to the east of town, along Peace Street. Only half of the dozen original opulent dwellings remained. His grandmother refused to live anywhere else, despite the home being too large for her to care for and having more room than one woman needed.

Chloe darted ahead of him onto the broad back porch and into the house. Gram was one of the reasons he’d come home to Dover. He’d been fourteen when his dad’s small plane had crashed, killing him and Noah’s mother. He’d come here to live with Gram and Gramps. Now that Gram was alone and getting older, he’d moved in to help her out and give his daughter a chance to know her family.

Dover would hopefully provide a new beginning for him and Chloe. Dissatisfied with the hectic pace of life in San Francisco, he’d resigned from the large engineering firm he’d worked for and decided to start his own structural engineering company in Dover. His hometown would also be a more conservative place to raise Chloe, who was growing up too quickly for his liking.

His grandmother, Evelyn Carlisle, was in the kitchen listening to Chloe recount her day. He noticed Gram was using her cane today—a sign her arthritis was flaring up again.

“I wish I could be like her.” Chloe sighed loudly, a dreamy look on her face.

“Like who?”

“Miss Beth.”

Noah shrugged out of his coat and draped it over the back of the chair. “No. You don’t.” He turned and saw a scowl on his gram’s face. He probably shouldn’t have said that, but he didn’t want his daughter’s head filled with notions of chasing fame.

“Yes, I do. She’s beautiful. I wish I could see her dance. I’ve only seen pictures.”

“I understand she is quite amazing. A very successful ballerina.” Gram raised her eyebrows. “She and your father were close friends in high school.”

Chloe grabbed his arm. “Really? Are you serious? You knew her? Did you see her dance? Was she gorgeous? Did she float like a dandelion puff?” Chloe spread her arms and twirled around the kitchen, bumping into the island.

“I never saw her dance.” Strange how he’d never realized that until now. He’d seen her in her studio warming up, but he’d never actually attended a performance. They’d been best friends, had shared everything, but at eighteen the thought of going to a ballet hadn’t been an option, even for a nerd like he’d been.

Chloe’s eyes widened. “I’m sure I could find videos of her on the internet. Can I look? Please?”

Refusal was on the tip of his tongue, but the pointed look from his gram told him to give in. She wasn’t above pointing out his parenting shortcomings. He really needed his own place, but he couldn’t leave her alone in this big house. “You can use my tablet, but sit here at the kitchen table to search.”

Chloe scooped up the device and started tapping the screen.

Gram put the finishing touches on the sandwiches she was preparing and handed him the plate. He plucked a stem of grapes from the fruit bowl and grabbed a couple of cookies from the jar before taking a seat at the island.

“I wondered how long it would take you to run into Beth again. She’s been home a while now.”

“How do you know that?”

“Francie told me.”

He’d forgotten that his gram and Beth’s mom were good friends. But then, he’d forgotten a lot about this place. He’d only been back in town a couple of months himself. “I ran into her yesterday.”

Gram set her own plate of food on the counter. “Hmm. That explains why you came home hissing like a snared alligator.”

“I did not.”

Gram shrugged. “How does she look? Has she changed much?”

“She’s too thin. But I guess she has to be. Her hair is shorter.” Softer looking, and it framed her face in long curvy strands that caressed her cheeks and made him want to brush them aside and feel the silky softness. “But otherwise she hasn’t changed.” She still had the sweet, childlike smile that made him want to hug her. Her hazel eyes, with their sooty lashes, were still as beguiling as ever, though they held a darker shade to them now. Maturity? Or sadness?

“Chloe seems taken with her.”

“Not for long. Beth told me herself that as soon as she’s recovered she’s going back to the ballet.”

Gram studied him a long moment. “I don’t think that’s going to happen. Francie told me that her injury was career-ending. She’ll never dance professionally as a ballerina again. She’s facing an uncertain future.”

The bite of sandwich stuck in Noah’s throat. No. Gram had to be wrong. “Are you sure? She looked fine to me.” More than fine. He shut down that thought.

“That fall she took destroyed her knee, and then there were complications.”

“What fall?”

“Noah, don’t you know what happened?”

He didn’t have a clue. He’d made it a point not to keep track of her successes. “I knew she’d been injured, but that’s all.”

“Oh, it was a terrible thing. She was doing one of those big leaps and landed wrong and tore her ACL. Her mother thinks Beth is in denial over her situation. It’s very sad. That child was born to dance.”

That was one thing Noah could not deny. “Yes. She was.” The thought of Beth never dancing again left an unfamiliar chill in his chest. As much as he resented her passion for the dance, and the way she’d shut out everyone, he knew how much it meant to her. It had shaped her entire life. How would she cope without it? What was she going to do now?

“Daddy, I found some videos. Can I watch them?”

Reluctantly, he nodded. Chloe sat beside him, and he couldn’t resist glancing at the tablet as she scrolled through the selection of clips featuring Bethany Montgomery. There were dozens. “Pick three. That’s all.”

Chloe clicked on the one labeled Aurora’s Act 3 Variation in The Sleeping Beauty. He had no idea what that meant, but he couldn’t force himself to look away. Beth appeared in a short tutu jutting out from her tiny waist. The puffy sleeves of her costume highlighted the graceful curves of her neck and shoulders. She rose on her toes, her arms floating gracefully as she began to dance with quick, precise steps. Part of him wanted to watch. To see her passion in action. But then reality shoved its way into his thoughts. There was only room for one love in her life, and it hadn’t been him. That’s what he had to remember.

Pushing back from the table, he carried his plate to the sink, then headed for the room off the parlor that had once been his grandfather’s office. Now it was his. He had a four-inch binder of Mississippi building codes to study. He focused on the numbers in front of him, but he couldn’t fully shake the vision of Beth on the screen, moving as if gravity had no claim on her. Even in the few moments he’d watched, her joy as she performed was impossible to miss. The thought of his Beth never dancing again was a cruel twist of fate he’d never have wanted for her.

His Beth. Ha. She’d never been his, even if that’s how he’d always thought of her. He’d fallen for Beth from the first moment he’d started tutoring her in math their senior year. She’d missed several weeks of school due to illness, and when the teacher had approached him about helping her catch up, he’d jumped at the chance. They’d quickly become friends. Neither of them had fit in well at school, and their friendship had filled a void for both of them.

He’d been sullen and withdrawn, burying himself in school and video games. Beth had been the shy, pretty girl, a self-proclaimed dance geek. Her friendship had drawn him out of his lingering anger and grief over losing his parents, and had brought a new life and light to his existence. He’d never confessed his true feelings, fearing it would destroy their relationship. Deep down he’d believed a gangly, self-conscious guy like him had little chance with an elegant, talented girl like Beth.

But something had changed between them those last months before graduation. Beth had auditioned for the Forsythe Company but hadn’t made the cut. She was devastated, and he’d done all he could to comfort and encourage her. The incident had drawn them closer together, and Noah had seen a new sparkle in her hazel eyes and a more intimate curve to her lips when she smiled at him. They’d touched more, laughed more and shared longing looks. He’d been certain it was love.

But he’d been wrong. She’d walked out of his life without so much as a goodbye, leaving him emotionally bleeding and giving him his first lesson in believing in dreams.

It was only later that he learned a position had opened up with the ballet suddenly, and Beth had gone to New York to pursue her dancing dream. That’s when the truth had hit. Hard. In Beth’s life, dance came first. Always. Friends were easily discarded, like an old pair of toe shoes. Dreams of a future with Beth were just that. Empty dreams. And dreams didn’t come true. It was a lesson he would learn well over the years.

It was probably good he’d never revealed his heart. Rejecting his friendship had been painful enough. Rejecting his love would have been too humiliating to bear. For the time being, he’d stick to his plan. Avoid Beth at all costs, and when she was gone he could pick up and move forward.

But how would Beth move forward? Who would help her face the loss of the thing she loved most? An unwanted flicker of protectiveness pinged along his nerves.

It wasn’t his problem. She’d made her choice, and she would have to adjust to the consequences.

* * *

“Please, Daddy, let Miss Beth teach me how to dance. I promise I’ll do my exercises every day.”

Noah placed the salt and pepper shakers in the cupboard after supper that night. Chloe had talked of nothing else all through the meal. “Just because Miss Beth thinks dancing is a good idea doesn’t mean it is. It could make your injury worse.”

Silverware clanged as Gram placed it in the dishwasher. “I think it’s a wonderful idea. She needs something to encourage her to do those exercises.”

Noah shut the cabinet door with more force than necessary. “Chloe is fine. She just needs to do what she’s supposed to.”

Gram exhaled a puff of air as she glared over her glasses. “I’m supposed to exercise for my arthritis, too, but it’s uncomfortable so I don’t do it. I know it’ll help eventually, but getting to the ‘eventually’ part takes too long. Why don’t you talk to Pete Jones, her physical therapist, and see what he says? Or better yet, have Pete consult with Beth about the pros and cons of letting her dance.”

“Out of the question.”

“Honestly.” Gram faced him, a deep scowl on her face. “Would you feel the same if it was anyone other than Beth? I would have thought you’d have gotten over her long ago.”

“There was nothing to get over. We were friends. It ended. I simply don’t want Chloe getting silly dreams in her head. I want her to have a secure future and a job that will provide a good living. Not something like dancing that could end suddenly or never take off at all.”

Gram placed the decorative candle back in the center of the breakfast room table. “Like moving to Hollywood and having your own talk show.”

Noah set the tea pitcher in the fridge and shut the door. “I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.” Gram untied her apron and hung it on a peg at the end of the counter. “Have you heard from Yvonne?”

Noah groaned softly. Another sore subject. His ex-wife and her utter disregard for their child. “Not since she texted Chloe about sending her a plane ticket to come out to Los Angeles for Thanksgiving.”

“Do you think she’ll follow through?”

“No. And I’ll have to tell my daughter yet again that her mother is too busy with her career to find time to spend with her.”

“Maybe having time with Beth and learning to dance would help soften the blow.”

Noah ground his teeth. “Until Beth packs up and heads back to New York without warning. Chloe doesn’t need another woman in her life pushing her aside when something more exciting comes along.”

“Are you so sure that’ll happen? Her mother says her ballet career is over.”

Noah shook his head. “You don’t know Beth the way I do. If she makes up her mind to dance again, then she will. It’s the only thing she really cares about.”

“That’s understandable. She devoted her life to being a ballerina, and I know how competitive the dance world is. She had to give it one hundred percent of her time and focus to succeed.”

“No. She had to give up everything and everyone to succeed.” He glanced at his gram, intending to drive home his point, but she was looking back at him with a knowing expression and a glint in her blue eyes as if she’d discovered something delightful.

“You know, most friendships fade away after school. Why are you still hanging on to this one?”

“I’m not hanging on. She was a friend I thought I could count on, and she wasn’t. The only thing I can depend on with Beth is that she’ll leave.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Her being back just reminds me that when it comes to women, my judgment is useless.”

“Oh, I don’t think so.” She sat down. “You’re a lot like your father was. He felt things deeply, but he didn’t express them. He had a tender heart and it was easily wounded. He fell in love with your mother the moment they met. They worked together for two years before he even asked her out. He almost lost her to another guy because he was afraid to share his feelings.”

“I don’t have feelings. She killed those long ago.”

“Beth did—or was that Yvonne’s doing?”

Noah was not having this conversation. “Gram, I love you, but I’m a big boy. I can manage my own life.” He strode from the room, but not before hearing a skeptical huff from his grandmother. She always claimed she knew him better than he knew himself. Unfortunately, she was usually right.

* * *

Bethany scrolled through the MLS for Dover and the nearby areas looking for a four-bedroom, two-bath ranch on ten acres. She’d tuned in Christmas music on the radio, and the mellow notes of “White Christmas” filled the air, but keeping her focus was a challenge. After a while the houses all began to look the same. She could never understand how her mother derived so much satisfaction from hunting down homes for sale and finding people to buy them. She printed out a couple of prospects, then stood and walked to the back room to get a fresh glass of sweet tea.

She was grateful to her mom for paying her to work at Montgomery Real Estate, but she’d have to find something else to do if she stayed in Dover. The thought gouged a channel across her stomach. She didn’t want another job. She wanted to dance. It’s all she’d ever wanted. But if she listened to her doctors and her physical therapist, she wouldn’t be returning to the Forsythe Company. They felt certain with enough recovery time and continued PT she’d be able to dance, but classical ballet was not recommended. It would be too easy to sustain the same injury again.

Beth refused to accept their diagnosis. She’d heard of many ballerinas who had suffered an ACL reconstruction and went on to dance for several more years. She would dance again. She had to. What else was there for her? Eight to five in her mother’s office? She wasn’t qualified for much else. She’d given up her chance at a degree when she’d joined the Forsythe Company.

The office door opened as she came back into the front, and she smiled as Evelyn Carlisle walked in. “Miss Evelyn, what a nice surprise. How are you?”

She laid down the papers she was carrying and gave Beth a warm hug. “I’m not bad for an old lady with arthritis. It’s nice to have our famous ballerina back with us. I know your mom is tickled pink to have you home. I love having Noah and Chloe with me again. Of course, I’m not one to sit in a rocker on the porch.”

The woman’s warm smile and zest for life made Beth smile. Noah’s gram was always involved in something, always trying new things and always first to jump in to tackle a challenge. “What’s keeping you so busy these days?”

Evelyn held up one of the papers. “This. I’ve reopened the Dawes Little Theater, and we’re having a special Christmas performance.”

Beth took the large colorful poster depicting iconic Christmas events. A sugar plum fairy, children around a tree, a winter scene and the nativity. “This looks wonderful. What made you decide to reopen the theater?”

“Your sister-in-law, Gemma. She did such a fantastic job with our celebrations last year that everyone is fired up to make this year even better. I’d been thinking about starting the little theater up again, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity. We’ve scheduled it for the third Saturday in December. I was hoping to put a poster in your window.”

“Of course. I’ll put it up right away.” The thought of reviving the theater sent her heart skipping. It had been a vital part of the town for years, and she’d performed in several shows. She’d been sad to learn from her mother that Evelyn had closed it because of lack of participation.

“Most of our numbers are musical. Three familiar Christmas scenes with singing and dancing. I wanted it to be happy and joyful. We’ve been blessed so many people were eager to volunteer to put on the show.” Evelyn adjusted her glasses. “Of course, things happen. And we’re about to lose a key member of our staff. Allison Kent, our dance coordinator, just received a job offer in Biloxi she’s been hoping for, and she has to start immediately.”

“That’s too bad.” Evelyn was staring pointedly, triggering an uneasy feeling in Beth’s stomach.

“I thought perhaps I could talk you into stepping into her place to help us out?”

“Me?” The idea sent a swell of excitement along her nerves. Being in a theater again, performing, the excitement, the joy. Cold reality quickly squelched the feelings. She wasn’t in any shape to perform, and being in a theater now would only point out what she could no longer have. “I’m not really sure how long I’m going to be here, and I promised to help my mother.” She was hedging, and the look on Evelyn’s face said she knew it, too.

“Since all of our performers are amateurs, Allison kept the dances simple. They’re all set, and everyone knows them by heart. All you’d have to do is keep things on track.”

“That’s very kind of you to ask, but...”

Evelyn patted her arm. “Just think about it. We could really use your help. Oh, and I wanted to tell you I liked your suggestion about Chloe taking dancing lessons. I think it would make doing her PT exercises easier.”

“Noah told you about that?”

“He did, and I told him he was being closed-minded about the whole thing.”

“What does he have against it? I really can’t figure that out.”

Evelyn’s eyes sparkled. “Oh, well, it’s a long story. He’s got some funny ideas about the arts that, if you ask me, he needs to get over.” She scooped up the rest of the circulars. “Well, I need to get going, or I’ll never get these distributed.” She stopped at the door. “Oh. If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like you to take a look at the scene from The Nutcracker we’re doing in the show. Allison had doubts about some of the steps. With your professional experience, maybe you could stop by and offer a few changes to make it better?”

It would be rude to refuse. “Of course. Just let me know.”

“Thank you. Oh, and would you see that Noah gets one of these posters for his office window when he comes in?”

“Of course.” Beth said goodbye, then returned to the desk and sank down in the chair. It might be fun to get involved with the production. But how would she feel being in a theater, knowing she might never dance professionally again? No. It would be safer to keep her focus on her recovery.

She was doing all she could, following her doctor’s and physical therapist’s advice to the letter. She was eating right, getting plenty of rest and doing her exercises faithfully. Each morning she did her exercises and a full ballet warm-up in the small studio her father had built for her when she was a child. Each day she pushed just a little harder, stretched a tiny bit farther, but always wearing her brace and careful not to overdo. She believed in her heart that if she worked hard enough and long enough, she could recapture the life she had before.

But what if the doctors were right, and she was lying to herself? That question lay like a shard of ice in her chest that never went away.

She glanced out the window and saw Noah unlocking the door to his office. Picking up the poster, she followed him inside. “Your gram left this for you to put in your window. I have one, too.”

He scanned the colorful announcement with a shake of his head. “She got it into her head to start the little theater up again.”

“You don’t sound pleased about that.”

He shrugged. “If it makes her happy...”

“She asked me to help out with the dancers. Apparently her instructor is moving away.”

Noah held her gaze, his mouth in a tight line. “I suppose you jumped at the chance.”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“Really.” He rested his hands on his hips. “What’s holding you back? Too busy selling real estate? Or is little theater beneath you? Going from principal dancer to small town choreographer is quite a comedown.”

“That’s a horrible thing to say.”

“Not if it’s true.”

The hurt tone in his voice made her stop and study him more closely. “Noah, what happened to you? To us? We were close friends. We always supported each other. I was going to be the famous dancer, and you were going to design architectural wonders.”

Noah sat on the edge of his desk, arms crossed over his chest. “I figured out pretty quick I didn’t have the imagination needed to be a successful architect. I was better suited for engineering. Numbers and equations. Things that are always solid and predictable.” He stood and went around the desk. “I learned to look at the future more realistically.” He faced her, his blue eyes cold. “I learned a lot that year. Like who my real friends were, and who could be depended on and who couldn’t.”

“We used to depend on each other.”

“I thought so—until you ran off to New York and never looked back. I guess friendship didn’t count as much as pursuing your career.”

How could she make him understand? “I had no choice. The call came in, and I had to be in New York the next day to begin rehearsing. My mom and I were running around packing, trying to make plane reservations. It was hectic.”

“Too hectic to find a second to call your friend and share the good news?”

His barb made a direct hit. “I meant to call you and explain.”

Noah’s gaze searing into hers. “When? The next day? The next week? I had to find out about you joining the ballet company in the newspaper.” He worked his jaw, his eyes dark. “That’s how much our friendship meant to you.”

“It meant a great deal to me. But I didn’t think it meant much to you.”

“I waited in the gazebo until midnight for you to show up. I called you a dozen times. I finally called your house and talked to one of your brothers, but all they knew was that something had come up and you and your mom had left.”

Her heart sank. They’d agreed to meet that evening at the gazebo to exchange gifts. Noah was leaving for the summer semester at Mississippi State the next morning. She hadn’t shown up at the gazebo because after he’d rebuffed her affections earlier in the day, she’d wanted to avoid him. It had been easy to dismiss that night amid all the rush to leave. Is that what was behind his attitude? Her failure to show up to say goodbye?

“I’m sorry, Noah, I was so busy. You know how crushed I was when I wasn’t chosen after my audition. This sudden opening with the company was the answer to my dreams.”

Noah worked his jaw from side to side. “And your dream trumped a casual friendship. I get it. We all have priorities, and I learned yours that night.” He stood. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

Without a word, he walked to the back office, leaving her alone, a hundred questions swirling in her mind.

Seated at her desk again, Beth replayed the events of that last day with Noah. She couldn’t tell him how heartbroken and embarrassed she’d been by his rejection. It wasn’t his fault she’d read too much in to their friendship. She couldn’t remain friends and pretend to be happy when he found someone else.

And he had. She’d heard through her mother that he’d abruptly transferred from Mississippi State to Stanford and married a year later. Proving once and for all his heart had never been hers. Her last thin strand of hope had died. It hadn’t been a misunderstanding. He truly hadn’t loved her.

With her mother out of the office, Beth tried to work, but her gaze kept wandering to Noah’s office. He never appeared again. He was either really busy in the back room, or he’d slipped out the back door to avoid seeing her.

A lump formed in her throat. Noah had been more than a friend. He’d been her strong shoulder, her soft place to fall. The man she’d loved. But she’d never told him that. She’d always worried that to do so would ruin the special bond between them. When she’d finally found the courage to open her heart, he’d been embarrassed and uncomfortable. He’d made it clear that the words of love she’d had engraved on the small key chain she’d given him weren’t welcome.

A sudden contradiction formed in her mind. If Noah had no feelings for her back then, why was he still so upset that she’d left town without telling him? His bristly attitude and his cutting comments didn’t sound like someone who had forgotten the past. They sounded like someone who still carried the pain.

What that meant, she had no idea. In the past, if she was confused about something, she would go to Noah and discuss it with him. No subject was off limits. But now, when she was so confused, he was the last person she could turn to. The realization stung.

She had to find a way to repair their relationship because being at odds with Noah hurt more deeply than she’d thought possible.

* * *

Noah’s encounter with Beth wore on his nerves like a pebble in his shoe. Thankfully, his job with the city had kept him busy all afternoon doing structural inspections, but he couldn’t shake the fact that he owed her an apology. He’d been rude and hurtful. What had happened, or not happened, between them was in the past. Beth had a right to live her life. Just because seeing her again stirred up old emotional wounds wasn’t her fault. He needed to recommit to his original plan. Stay away. Keep his distance. Then everything would be fine.

The tension in the kitchen was as thick as soup when he arrived home that night. Gram was at the stove, stirring the contents of a pot with vigor. Chloe was hunched up in the sunroom, her thumbs flying over her cell phone. He debated which female to approach first. Gram seemed less threatening.

He moved to the stove and looked down at the contents of the pot. “So did the sauce talk back to you, or was it Chloe?”

She huffed out a breath and straightened, peering over the rim of her glasses. “Neither. Merely a run-in with that brick wall we’ve been living with for the last few weeks. Apparently, the Carlisle stubborn streak didn’t skip a generation.”

Now he understood. “Chloe won’t do her exercises.”

“She says she will if Bethany teaches her to dance.” Gram stopped stirring and faced him. “What can it hurt, Noah? She’s nine. It’s not like she’s going to run off and join a ballet company at her age. This thing you have with keeping her away from anything involving the arts is just plain silly.”

Noah rubbed his forehead. “I’m just trying to protect her.”

“From what? Exploring new things and having fun? You can’t control what your daughter dreams about, Noah. Sooner or later you have to face the fact that she’s going to grow up and leave you, too. She’ll make a life of her own. Denying her things she wants to do will only hasten that along, and I know you don’t want that.”

He knew that, but he could keep her focused on things that were more productive. Things that would instill solid values for life and a future family. He took a seat in the sunroom on the footstool across from Chloe and stretched out his palm. She sighed and handed over her phone. That was their deal. She could have a cell phone, minus internet access, and he had the right to check her call and text history. “Shouldn’t you be doing your exercises?”

“They hurt.”

“Don’t you want to play soccer in the spring?”

“I want to dance.”

“There aren’t any dance schools in Dover.”

“Miss Beth could show me. She’s famous. She knows all about dancing.”

Every word his daughter spoke poked an anthill of emotions. “Miss Beth has no time for teaching.”

“Yes, she does. She told me we could practice at her studio at Miss Francie’s house.”

He handed back her phone. “When did you talk to Beth?”

“Gram and I stopped in to see you after school today, only you weren’t there. I stayed and talked to her while Gram went to the bank.”

Noah set his jaw. He’d have to have a talk with his grandmother. He didn’t want Chloe getting too attached to Beth. Better yet, he’d have a talk with Beth himself and set her straight about a few things.

* * *

The next morning, Noah parked his car beside the small building behind the Montgomery home that had been converted into Beth’s dance studio. Yesterday he’d been determined to tell Beth to back off and not mention dancing to Chloe. But he’d been unable to dismiss his gram’s advice. Chloe was growing up, and she would strike out on her own. He didn’t want her resenting him for denying her something she longed to do. But there was one other fact that wore away at his resentment. What if Gram was right, and Beth could never dance en pointe again?

He knew what it was like to have your dreams shattered and see the future you dreamed of go up in smoke. Beth must be suffering greatly with the prospect of never being a ballerina again. It had been her whole life.

He stepped inside the studio and found her on the small settee, her head resting on her knees. A twinge of concern hit him. As he approached, he saw her shoulder shake, which elevated his concern. “Beth, are you all right? Are you hurt?”

She jerked, lifting her head and blinking away tears. “Noah. What are you doing here?”

Taking a tissue from the box on the side table, she wiped her eyes, then rose to face him. His heart lodged in his throat. She was the essence of femininity. The black leotard and tights highlighted every feminine curve. The filmy overskirt that ended around her knees swished enticingly as she moved. Her dark hair, usually floating around her face, was pulled back into a haphazard knot at the back of her head. She looked every inch the professional ballerina—except for the sadness in her hazel eyes that brought an unfamiliar ache to his chest. He fought the sudden need to pull her close and comfort her. “You first. Why are you crying?”

She lifted her chin in a defiant gesture, only to sigh and lower her gaze, her fingers toying with strings on her skirt. “I was thinking about my daddy and how much I miss him. It’s been a year already, and I still have this horrible hole in my heart.”

It was not what he’d expected her to say, but he was very familiar with the emotion. “My gramps has been gone two years, and I still expect him to walk into the shop or come up behind me and squeeze my shoulder.”

“Two years?” She gave him a sad smile. “I was hoping you’d say something to make me feel better.” She glanced around the studio. “Daddy built this for me when I was ten. I’d told him that I was going to devote my life to dancing, and he said if that was true then I needed a place where I could practice every day.”

“And you did.” He remembered the hours she spent locked away. He’d count the minutes until she would step outside, put the practice behind her and become his friend. “I’m sure he was very proud of you.”

She smiled, a sweet one this time that melted his insides. “He was. He never missed a performance, and he always gave me a bouquet of pink roses afterward no matter how small my part. I felt like a real princess. He was my biggest fan.” She met his gaze, then set her hands on her hips. “Your turn. Why are you here?”

The determination that had driven him here had been diluted by Beth’s tears. Seeing her in her element, here in the studio, forced him to understand the significance of her loss. For all his issues with Beth, he would never want her to lose the thing she loved most. Gram was right. He couldn’t control his daughter’s dreams. Making too much of his disapproval might have the opposite effect. And in the short term, Beth would eventually leave, and by then Chloe would hopefully have moved on to a new interest.

“I came by to tell you that if you’re still willing, I think adding dance along with Chloe’s PT might be a good idea.”

“Really? I’d love to. In fact, I’m going to start working with my niece and her friend. Chloe can join us, and we’ll have a little dance class here. It should be fun.”

Seeing the joy and anticipation on her face left a warm softness in his rib cage.

“What made you change your mind?”

He didn’t realize how close they stood until he looked into her eyes. He could see the gold streak in the left one. “I can’t say no to my little girl.”

She chuckled softly and touched his arm. “Neither could my dad.”

He looked into her eyes and saw them dilate. His pulse flipped. She was so close, he caught the flowery scent of her hair. He gathered himself and stepped back. She’d always made his heart race. Her loveliness never failed to captivate him, but she wasn’t dependable. There was no room in her world for anyone else. The frown on her face told him Beth clearly felt his withdrawal.

“You won’t change your mind, will you? About Chloe I mean?”

He rubbed his forehead, already regretting his impulse. “No.” Noah cleared his throat. “She needs to do her PT, and if dancing gets it done then I’m all for it.” He pulled out a business card and handed it to her. “I have one request. Call Pete Jones, her physical therapist, and make sure you know what her parameters are and that he approves of whatever type of dancing you’re planning.”

“Of course. I’ll be very cautious, Noah. You can depend on me.”

That was the one thing he couldn’t do. “Then I’ll be going. Let me know when Chloe should be here.”

She stared at him, a questioning look in her eyes. “Okay.”

He held her gaze a moment before walking to the door. He had a bad feeling he’d just made a terrible mistake.