December Dance

by Verity Norton

  “Good thinking. What’s it look like?”

  “Lots of silver. Some blue stone that Skye thinks she’ll love—chalcedony or something like that. I just hope she finishes it in time.”

  “She has been a bit preoccupied since she and Nick moved in together.”

  Preoccupied was a good word for it. Her favorite cousin who had sworn off marriage was now engaged, planning her wedding, and obsessed with her fiancé. Her relationship with Nick had definitely transformed her best friend. She was the happiest Anne could remember her ever being. She was pleased for Skye. She swallowed hard against the other emotion that was threatening. Loneliness.

  But how could she be lonely when she was part of such a wonderful family? And she lived in Canden Valley for crying out loud, where everyone truly did know your name. And yes, there was even a pub in the family, owned by her Aunt Emily and Uncle Palmer. And she could go there any time she wanted company. And most of that time one of her McCullough cousins would be there, usually Skye who, when she wasn’t making jewelry, was working as a bartender.

  But things had changed when Skye fell in love with Nick. Anne no longer had a comrade in bachelorhood. It wasn’t so much that she didn’t want to get married. It was more that her lifestyle wasn’t compatible with marriage, definitely not as long as she was still touring. Although Arielle, the wife of their oldest cousin, Matt, happened to be a therapist and had suggested that it was possible that she just hadn’t found the right man, a man who would love her and appreciate her lifestyle and her dance career. As far as she could see, that was asking a lot. That was asking a man to tolerate her traipsing off to San Francisco to rehearse before going out on tour three times a year. What man would put up with that, let alone appreciate it?

  “What is it, dear?” Nan asked.

  “Just thinking about all that Christmas shopping I have to do.”

  “Well, at least it will be easier now that we finally wised up and we’re just getting one present for each person from our whole family. Except for our immediate family, of course.”

  “Except I always get something for Skye. And now we have new members of the family—Sophie, Nick, Arielle, and Cassie.”

  “Oh dear, can you imagine when all fourteen of you cousins are married! We’ll have twenty-eight gifts to buy!”

  That subject again. She distracted her mother with another thought. “And when they all start having children . . .”

  Nan grinned. “I can’t wait.”

  “No kidding. I saw all those baby gifts you bought for Cassie and Alex’s baby, and she’s only what, a month pregnant?”

  “Hey, I’m going to be a grandmother for the first time.”

  “Don’t you think you should be helping plan their wedding first?”

  Nan cringed. Thank goodness it was December when a lot of her horseback riding students took the month off from lessons. Hopefully the wedding would be small. She laughed to herself. If it involved the McCulloughs, it was guaranteed not to be small. Of course, Sherry Callahan, her good friend and neighbor, would be helping her daughter with the majority of the planning, but because Alex was Nan’s first child to get married, she wanted to be involved. She figured she could learn a lot from this wedding. And it would be in plenty of time for when she had a daughter walking down the aisle.

  She looked over at her ravenous daughter who had finished off a pumpkin muffin and was indulging in a chocolate chip cookie bar. She could get away with that. She was a dancer. And she had inherited her own slim build. Nan just wondered if it would be Anne’s wedding she would be helping plan some day, or her younger daughter Allie’s.

  “Do you really think they can put together a wedding by the end of January?” Anne asked.

  “Before the baby starts showing?”

  Anne chuckled. “I don’t really think they care about that. But Alex sure is anxious to get that ring on her finger.”

  “It’s about time,” Nan said.

  Her mother was right about that. It had taken her brother several years and a long detour to realize that he belonged with the girl-next-door.

  “So, onto the next subject.”

  Anne could read her mother’s mind as well as her mother could read hers. Almost. “No, I don’t have a date for the winter ball. I’m not even sure I have time to go.”

  “You’ve gone every year of your life! Even before you were born!”

  “I know, Mom. But we’re doing a contemporary version of The Nutcracker this year. I’m still finalizing the choreography. I have rehearsals every weekend. Some of the kids are still struggling with the dances.”

  “You know the parents will love it no matter what.”

  “Yes, but it would be nice if they at least know their routines so they don’t bump into each other and knock over the props.”

  “Certainly you can take an evening off for the ball. I’m sure there will be plenty of men to dance with—not that you need a partner.”

  Anne’s head tilted to the side in acquiescence. This was true. She had been known to get up on a dance floor and dance alone on more than one occasion. “Okay, I’ll put in an appearance.”

  “Good. Now, when do you want to go over to Winslow and do a little shopping?”

  “Tomorrow? Noon? I have about four hours between my morning and afternoon classes.”

  “Perfect. I’ll pick you up at the studio and we’ll head over.” Nan patted her daughter’s hand and stood up. “Now, I’m off to tame a stallion. We’ll see how he likes the snow.”

  Anne shook her head as she watched her cowgirl mother pull on her boots and jacket and head out the kitchen door. She had considered moving to the city and dancing full time instead of staying in the valley and teaching part of the time. But she’d never been able to bring herself to do it. She’d miss the valley, the scent of the eucalyptus and oak trees. The eternal evergreens. The jasmine and honeysuckle in summer. She’d miss the family pub and general store and the local book café and knowing when someone new had moved to town or how many tourists were passing through. She’d miss teaching the children of people she’d known all her life. And she’d miss her family.

  She had left for college with every intention of staying away and living in a big city with a contemporary dance company. But when she had come home for the summer after graduation, and her parents had offered to finance a much-needed dance studio in the valley, she couldn’t turn them down. She didn’t want to. She wanted to know that when she wasn’t on tour, she could come home to her family’s horse ranch, to the village where she’d been raised. She needed the comfort of family because she knew it was unlikely that she would have a family of her own, that she would meet a man who could handle her dance career and her lifestyle, a man who would love her enough to accept her the way she was.

  Chapter 3

  Chris swallowed the last of his pint and set his glass down on the counter. Three was enough. As it was, after three pints, he’d have to walk around for a while and chug a couple glasses of water before attempting the drive back to Winslow.

  His cell phone chimed, indicating that he had a text message, followed by a beep that indicated an email. He read both. One was from Jenna, the other from Kendall, both wondering where he had been hiding for the past few months. Five messages in all today. All from different women. Unfortunately none were from the one woman he would have liked them to be. But if he didn’t get the hell off his ass and meet her, that was never going to happen.

  The bartender eyed him cautiously, ready to ask if he was driving before pouring him another pint.

  “No more,” Chris assured him.

  “Good, because I wasn’t planning on giving you anymore.”

  Chris chuckled. He appreciated the honesty. And the vigilance. “Maybe I’ll have some water though.”

  Nick Callen poured a large mug full. “It’s free. And so is the advice.”

  “Ah, you’re that kind of bartender.”

  “That kind?”

  “The wan
nabe therapist kind.”

  “Actually I’m a writer. I just got into bartending”—Nick glanced across the room at the other bartender—“to be near a certain woman.”

  Chris was grinning now. “Did it work?”

  Nick winced. “After a grueling courtship of which she was completely unaware—yeah. Only took me five months to get her to go out with me.”

  “Five months?” Not so bad. It had been seven months since he’d first seen Anne dance. Okay, so he had flown around the country to do several photo shoots and articles since he’d first seen her perform in San Francisco, but there was still no excuse for not having introduced himself.

  “It wasn’t until I learned to ride a horse for her that she even considered,” the bartender continued. “When you’re up against a heart that’s had a stone castle erected around it and a woman as stubborn as Skye—”

  Skye. If Chris wasn’t mistaken, she was the other bartender. Anne’s friend. “Okay, maybe I will take you up on that advice.”

  “Good.” Nick slapped the towel on the counter and leaned forward. “And just so you know, I’m well aware that the woman who is the reason for your drinking one more beer than you can handle and drive, is a certain local dancer.”

  “Shit. This town is way too small.”

  “Village,” Nick corrected.

  “Did Palmer tell you?”

  “Didn’t have to. You’ve been following Anne around ever since she got back from her dance tour.” Nick’s eyes opened wider. “But my hunch is, it’s been a lot longer than that. You’re the photographer that Sophie mentioned. Right?”

  What was this guy? Psychic? And who the hell was Sophie?

  “Well, yeah, I am a photographer.”

  “And you’ve been in Canden Valley before, taking pictures of Anne at the studio. And then when she left on tour, you left town as well, returning shortly after she did. Coincidence?”

  Shit, had he landed in the middle of the Twilight Zone? “How the hell do you know all this about me?”

  “I’m a writer. I make my living observing things . . . and people.”

  “Do you observe all your customers this closely?”

  “Nope. Just the ones who are smitten with my soon-to-be family members. Anne and my fiancée, Skye, are cousins.”

  “Shit, so this entire conversation will undoubtedly be related to your fiancée who will in turn, tell Anne all the pathetic details of my interest in her.”

  Nick looked across the room and spotted Skye sitting down at a table with her Cousin Kelly and figured he had about six minutes before she’d be interrupting this conversation. “Consider it bartender-to-customer confidentiality.”

  “Thanks.”

  “No problem. Now, tell me, where did you meet her?”

  Chris grimaced. “I haven’t yet.”

  “I see we have our work cut out for us.”

  “Us?”

  “Just passing it forward. Skye’s brother Sean took pity on me and taught me to ride a horse—which turned out to be the way to her heart.”

  “So, you weren’t kidding about learning to ride a horse.”

  “’Fraid not. I’m not the most natural rider on the ranch.”

  Chris laughed and took a long drink of the water Nick had poured him. “That bad?”

  “Worse. In case you haven’t noticed, the McCullough cousins grew up on the back of a horse. Anne’s mother Nan is the best trainer and rider this side of the Colorado River, or so I hear. And her brother Alex taught most of the cousins to ride.”

  “Well, I’m fortunate there. I learned to ride as a kid as well. Do you think it will help—”

  “It won’t hurt. But how’s your dancing?”

  “Not bad, but that’s just the social kind. Nothing like what Anne’s capable of.”

  “Yeah, well, not too many people can do what she does.” Nick raised an eyebrow and refilled Chris’s water glass. “So tell me, why haven’t you just gone up and introduced yourself and asked her out?”

  Chris blew out his breath. “I don’t take rejection well.”

  “How do you know she’ll reject you?”

  “I’ve observed her for a while. I know her M.O. If she even agrees to go out with me, she’ll reject me within a week or two unless I’m one of the lucky ones. Then she’ll let me stick around until her next tour.”

  Nick was impressed. The man had done his homework. “In other words, you’re in it for the long haul.”

  “Well, I haven’t stuck around all this time for a fling.”

  “Okay, so, if you’ve never even spoken to Anne, how do you know her so well that you’d want a serious relationship with her?”

  “I’ve watched her dance and taken enough close-ups to know her better than most people know each other after several dates.”

  Nick got it, but then he’d fallen head over heels after a two-minute conversation with Skye. Nothing particularly profound. He was asking directions to the river. “Okay, I have to concede, the direct approach might not be the best. How about telling her you’re a photographer and you’re doing a piece on dancers.”

  “I am. And she’s the featured dancer.”

  Nick shook his head in bewilderment. “So, what’s the problem? It’s a good way for her to get to know you and for you to spend time together and work up to asking her out.”

  “That’s the plan, now that we’re both in the same place at the same time for more than a day. But I would like to be sure she’ll give me the time of day when I finally do introduce myself.”

  “If you put it on a professional basis, you don’t have anything to lose.”

  “Is that what you did?”

  “For several months, Skye thought I was a bartender who took the job here because I needed it. She didn’t know I was a writer who picked up and moved from San Francisco and was tending bar just to be near her.”

  Chris was beginning to see why Palmer Burnett had recommended that he get to know Nick. “San Francisco?”

  “Yep. I left the big city and moved to Canden Valley to win her heart. Lived in the studio apartment upstairs and learned to mix drinks and ride a horse.”

  “I’d say we have quite a bit in common.”

  “You’re from the city too?”

  “Grew up in Marin County. Recently I’ve been staying in Winslow with my sister. But your boss handed me the key to the apartment upstairs. As soon as the current occupant finishes cleaning it, it’s mine.”

  Nick grinned. He loved the tiny one-room apartment. It was, after all, his and Skye’s love-nest. Speaking of Skye . . . “Uh, it looks as if we’re about to be interrupted.” He scribbled down his cell number and slipped it across the bar. “Call me, and we can meet for a more private talk.”

  “I’ll do that.” Chris pocketed the number as Skye sauntered toward them. “I appreciate it. I need all the help I can get.”

  Nick grinned. He knew the feeling all too well.

  “Hey, Cowboy, who’s your friend?”

  Hmm, an ironic nickname? Nick didn’t quite seem the cowboy type. Chris reached past Nick to shake Skye’s hand. He had a feeling her approval would mean a lot to Anne. “Christopher Newell. Pleased to meet you.”

  “You too. I’m Skye McCullough.”

  Chris pushed back his barstool and stood up.

  Skye gazed intently at the man across from her, struggling not to reveal her amusement. “You’re not leaving on my account, I hope?”

  He smiled at the woman who had his new friend wrapped around her little finger. Now that he was standing only a few feet away from her, he wondered how he hadn’t realized that she was Anne’s cousin. Same dark brown hair. Same blue eyes. “Not at all,” he said. “I’m sure I’ll see you again.”

  “I’m sure you will,” Skye said. “Now sit down.”

  Nick recognized Skye’s tone of voice and knew they were in trouble.

  Skye turned back to her fiancé, a glare on her face. “Okay, so what were you two conspiring?”
r />   “What makes you think we were conspiring, Sweet Pea?”

  “You’re not the only observant one in this relationship.” Her eyes narrowed. “Nick Callen, were you planning to keep secrets from me?”

  He winced and stepped away from his five-foot, four-inch fiancée who had the meanest slap upside the head in all of Canden Valley to say nothing of her towel-flicking skills. “Hey, we just met. What could we possibly be conspiring?”

  “He’s been in here several times.” She turned back to Chris. “Haven’t you?”

  Chris raised his eyebrows in surprise. He had a feeling Skye was the cousin he did not want to mess with. “Uh, yes,” he mumbled, “But this is the first time we’ve actually talked.”

  “About?”

  Nick cringed. Now he was moving into dangerous territory—out of the realm of keeping something from her to actually lying.

  “Well?”

  “Uh, we have some things in common,” he hedged.

  “What things?”

  “I’m a freelance writer. Chris is a freelance photographer. We’re both from the San Francisco Bay Area.”

  Skye considered letting him suffer longer, but he was so irresistible with that guilty little boy look on his face that she took pity on him.” And you’re both crazy about McCullough cousins.”

  Damn. “How did you know?” Chris asked.

  “As if you haven’t been watching every move my Cousin Anne makes.” Her smile came slowly as if a light were going off in her head. This was the photographer Sophie saw taking pictures of Anne at her dance studio and then at the Dunedin Inn when they were out dancing. This was serious.

  “Wait a minute,” Nick said, bravely taking a step closer. “You’ve been observing a man lusting after your best friend, yet you haven’t told her?”

  “Lusting?” Chris said. “I haven’t exactly been lusting.”

  But neither Nick nor Skye seemed to hear him.

  “Are you crazy?” Skye said. “You know Anne. If she had an inkling of how infatuated the guy is with her, she’d chase him out of town.”