“Poor kid.” Dante briefly put his hand on top of hers.
For a second Evie enjoyed the warmth of the contact, then the meaning of his words sank into her slightly soggy brain. Poor kid? Poor kid? Is that how he saw her? As a child? What happened to her being a sexy vixen? Not that he’d ever used that phrase, but still. He’d implied she was. Or at least her dancer work clothes. She didn’t want to be a kid. She wanted to be vixeny. Vixenish. Whatever.
She leaned her head back against the seat and sighed. Life was far from fair.
Two hours later she’d munched her way through a fair amount of the veggie platter Heidi had put out and finished off about a half gallon of water. The buzz was long gone, as was the faint headache that had followed. Through careful maneuvering, she’d managed to avoid spending any time alone with her mother. Oddly enough, Dante had helped more than a little. He’d stuck beside her from the second they walked in the door.
Painfully aware that his concern was more fraternal than she would like, she told herself not to read anything into his actions. Dante was practically family. There was no way to avoid him while she was in Fool’s Gold, and as her plans had her staying well into the new year, logic needed to win over longing. Well, not longing. Acknowledging that Dante was smart and sexy was simply stating the obvious. It wasn’t as if she had a thing for him or wanted anything other than casual friendship.
“Halftime,” Heidi said, walking into the living room. “It’s time, people.”
“Time for what?” Dante asked.
“I have no idea,” Evie admitted, but stood along with everyone else.
Shane sighed. “It’s Thanksgiving.”
Evie pointed to the kitchen. “You know, the big turkey in the oven was our first clue.”
“Funny. It’s Thanksgiving, and if we get a big feast, so do the animals,” Shane said.
Dante groaned. “Including the elephant?”
“Especially the elephant. My racehorses have a very controlled diet, but everybody else gets a treat. Do you know what a watermelon costs this time of year?”
They all followed Shane and Heidi outside where a truck waited. The back of the pickup was filled with all kinds of holiday goodies. There was the massive watermelon for Priscilla, the elephant, carrots and apples for the goats, Reno, the pony, Wilbur, the pig, and the riding horses. Something from the local butcher for the feral cat who had taken up residence with Priscilla and Reno.
Evie and Dante were assigned the riding horses.
“You know what you’re doing?” Shane asked.
Evie sniffed. “Yes. We’ll be fine.”
They walked toward the corral. Six horses trotted over to greet them. Dante hesitated.
“They have really big teeth,” he said. “You’re okay with that?”
She smiled. “Keep your fingers away from their teeth and you’ll be fine.”
She took the knife Heidi had provided and sliced the apple in quarters, then put a piece on her hand, straightened her fingers so her palm was flat and offered it to the first horse. He took it gently, his lips barely brushing her skin.
“Impressive,” Dante said and did the same with another quarter of apple.
“Look out!” she yelled, just as the horse reached for him.
He jumped back, dropping the apple piece. “What?”
She grinned. “Nothing. Just messing with you.”
“Charming.” He took another piece of apple and held it out to the horse. “Sorry about that,” he said. “You know women.”
“Um, you’re talking to a girl horse.”
“She understands just fine.”
They finished giving the horses their holiday treats, then headed back to the house. When they stepped onto the porch, Dante paused. “Did you grow up here?”
Evie looked out at the rolling hills of the ranch. The air was cool, but the sky blue. To the east, snow-capped mountains rose toward the sun.
“Technically I was born in Fool’s Gold,” she admitted. “But I don’t remember much about it. We moved when I was pretty young.”
Her earliest memories were of the tiny apartment they’d had in Los Angeles. The three boys had been crammed into the larger of the two bedrooms. May had taken the smaller bedroom for herself and Evie had slept on the sofa.
“Are you happy to be back?”
“I like teaching dance,” she said, willing to admit that much of the truth. “I wasn’t sure I would, but it’s gratifying. The girls are enthusiastic and excited to learn.” A few were talented, but she’d discovered she was less interested in skill than attitude when it came to her students.
“Let me guess,” he said, glancing at her. “The clog dancing is your favorite.”
She laughed. “It’s a very important art form.”
“It’s loud and on top of my head.”
For a second she allowed herself to get lost in his dark blue eyes. Then common sense took over, and she gave him her best sympathetic smile. “It’s for the children, Dante. Not everything is about you.”
“It should be,” he grumbled. “Come on. The second half is starting.”
“You know, I was run over by a football player only a few months ago. Does it occur to you that watching the game could be traumatic?”
“Is it?”
“No. I’m just saying it could be.”
He wrapped his arm around her and drew her inside. “Stay close. I’ll protect you.”
For a second she allowed herself to believe he wasn’t just being funny. That he was someone she could depend on. She knew better, of course. Her family had taught her that the people who were supposed to love you back usually didn’t and that it was far safer to simply be alone. She was done with love.
* * *
DINNER WAS MORE ENJOYABLE than Evie had allowed herself to hope was possible. With ten people sitting around a large table, it was easy to avoid awkward silences and difficult questions. Even more fortunate, May had sat at the opposite end, on the same side, so Evie didn’t have to try to avoid her at all.
Once everyone had eaten their fill of turkey, dressing, mashed potatoes, sweet potato casserole, vegetables, olives, rolls and a very confusing Jell-O mold, conversation turned to the holiday season in Fool’s Gold.
“You pretty much need a schedule of events on the refrigerator,” Charlie was saying. “The town starts decorating this weekend. Next Saturday night is the tree lighting.”
Heidi leaned against Rafe. “We’re doing hayrides.”
Dante turned to her. “What?”
Shane groaned. “Hayrides. Horses pulling sleighs.” He glanced out at the rapidly darkening night. “Or wagons if we don’t get snow.”
Evie knew he sounded exasperated but guessed it was all an act. Shane liked everything about the ranch, including the close proximity to town. More important to him was how Annabelle enjoyed the holidays.
She glanced around the table, startled to realize all her relatives were paired up. A year ago everyone had been single. Since the last holiday season, Rafe and May had both married and Shane and Clay had gotten engaged. Annabelle was pregnant. This time next year Shane and Annabelle would have their baby. Heidi and Charlie would probably be pregnant, and she would be gone.
“I ate too much,” Glen, May’s husband, said as he pushed back from the table. “Wonderful dinner. Thank you.”
May smiled at him. “It wasn’t just me. Everyone helped.”
“Not me,” Evie said, suddenly wanting a few minutes away from her family. “So I insist on cleaning up. Everyone carry your plates into the kitchen, then leave me to it.”
“You can’t do all the dishes yourself,” Heidi said.
“There’s a brand-new dishwasher that says otherwise,” Evie told her.
“I’ll help,” Dante said. “I’m good at taking orders.”
“We all know that’s not true,” Rafe said. “But, hey, if he wants to wash, I say let him.”
It only took a few minutes to clear the table.
Heidi took charge of the leftovers and put them neatly away in the refrigerator, then Evie shooed her out so she could start rinsing the dishes. As promised, Dante stayed behind and began stacking serving pieces.
May walked in. “I want to help.”
Evie forced a smile. “You made most of the dinner. I can handle this.”
Her mother stared at her. “You really hate me, don’t you?”
Evie felt her shoulders slump. “Mom, it’s Thanksgiving. Why do you have to make me helping with cleanup more than it is?”
“Because you’ve been avoiding me.” She pressed her lips together. “I know you had a difficult childhood and it’s my fault. It’s just that you…” Tears filled her eyes, and she looked away.
Evie told herself to be sympathetic. That nothing would be gained by snapping or complaining. There was no new material here. Just the same half-truths and partial explanations.
May sniffed. “Can’t you forgive me?”
Evie folded her arms across her chest in what she knew was a protective and not very subtle gesture. “Sure. You’re forgiven.”
“You’re still angry.” May drew in a breath. “I know I wasn’t there for you, when you were little. There were so many responsibilities.”
“I’m sure it was difficult to raise four children on your own,” Evie told her. “But we both know that’s not the problem. The problem is you had a one-night stand a few months after your husband died, and I’m the result. The problem is, every time you look at me, you’re reminded of your moment of weakness. You never wanted me, and, growing up, you made sure I knew it. It’s not enough that I don’t even know who my father is. I ended up with a mother who didn’t give a damn.”
May clutched at her throat. “That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it? You blamed me for being born. That’s my big crime. When I was little, you wanted nothing to do with me. You were never there for me. You weren’t overtly mean, but you also weren’t interested. You and my brothers had special things you did together. Rituals and celebrations. Things I wasn’t a part of. It was the four of you as a family and then me on the outside looking in. My brothers did their best with me, but it wasn’t their job to raise me. It was yours and you didn’t bother.”
Evie felt herself starting to shake. She tried to hold it all together but knew she was seconds from a complete meltdown.
“I left home as soon as I could because there was no reason to stay. I never wanted to come back and wouldn’t be here now if you and my brothers hadn’t literally brought me here while I was unconscious after the accident.” She almost blurted out that she wasn’t planning on staying, either, but May didn’t deserve to know her plans. She wouldn’t be a part of her future.
“I was seventeen when I took off, and it was over a year until I heard from you. You never checked on me or wondered where I was or what I was doing.”
“You were at Juilliard,” May whispered.
“Right. For the first six months. Then I left. Did you ever wonder how a seventeen-year-old girl makes it on her own in the world? Did you bother to ask?”
The room blurred, and it took her a minute to realize she was crying.
“So, sure, Mom,” she said, her voice thickening. “I forgive you. You were everything I ever wanted in a parent.”
Then she was running. She went out through the back porch and down the stairs. Somewhere along the path to the goat barn, she stumbled and nearly fell. The only thing that kept her from going down was a pair of strong arms.
Dante pulled her against him and held her tight. He didn’t say anything. He just hung on and let her sob until she had nothing left.
Chapter Five
Dante was surprised to find Rafe in the office Friday morning. “Why aren’t you home with Heidi?” he asked.
Rafe looked up from his computer. “She’s making cheese and let me know I was getting in her way. Figured I’d get some work done. What about you?”
“Heidi pretty much only has eyes for you.”
Rafe chuckled. “I’m lucky that way.”
Dante walked to his desk and turned on his computer, then poured himself a cup of coffee. They were the only two working that morning. The staff had been given the long weekend off.
“How’s your mom?” Dante asked.
“Fine. Why?”
Dante had wondered if May had told anyone what had happened. He’d let Evie cry herself out, then had driven her home. This morning he’d wanted to go check on her, but there’d been no sign she was awake when he’d left.
He’d been forced to walk away, still feeling protective but with nothing to do.
“She and Evie got into it last night,” Dante said and recapped the conversation.
Rafe shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “I wish they wouldn’t talk about the past. There’s nothing that can be done to fix it.”
“Was Evie telling the truth?” Dante asked. “Was she that isolated as a kid?”
“It was complicated,” Rafe admitted. “She was a lot younger, and I think she was a reminder of that one night for my mom. The four of us were used to being together, then Evie came along....” His voice trailed off.
Dante had lost his mother when he’d been fifteen. While he hadn’t been the one to pull the trigger, a case could be made that he was responsible. They’d always been there for each other, and to this day, he would give anything to have her back. He couldn’t comprehend what it would be like to have family and not be close to them.
“She’s your sister,” he began.
“I know.” He sighed. “I was too busy being the man of the family. I figured the rest of them would worry about Evie. But that never happened. She was always an afterthought.” He shook his head. “There’s no excuse.”
Dante had known Rafe a lot of years and trusted him completely. From what he’d seen, May was a sweet, loving person. So how had everyone managed to ignore what was going on with Evie?
“She’s here now,” Rafe continued. “We want to make things up to her.”
“Good luck with that.”
“You think she’ll resist?”
“If you were her, how forgiving would you be?”
Rafe sighed. “Yeah, I see your point. I appreciate you looking out for her.” He stared at Dante. “That’s all it is, right? You’re not getting involved?”
Dante knew exactly what his friend was asking. Telling Rafe he thought Evie was sexy as hell, from the way she walked to her hard-won smile, wasn’t a smart move. Instead he settled on the truth.
“You know how I feel about relationships.” In his world, love had deadly consequences. He’d learned the lesson early and had never let it go.
* * *
THE FRIDAY AFTER Thanksgiving wasn’t a school day, so Evie had scheduled her dance classes early. She was done by three and showered, dressed and settled in front of her television by four. She pushed the play button on her remote, cuing up the DVD of the performance, then settled back on her sofa to watch it for the fortieth time.
The story was simple. The Winter King had dozens of daughters. The girls wanted to go free in the world, but he loved them too much to let them go. So his daughters danced to convince him they were ready to leave. At the end, the girls were revealed as beautiful snowflakes and he released them into the world as Christmas snow.
The girls danced in groups. They were mostly divided by age, with the younger performers having more simple choreography. Every student had a few seconds of a solo with the more advanced students having longer in the spotlight. Several styles of dance were represented. Modern, tap, clog and, of course, ballet.
The sets were simple, the lighting basic. The music was a collection of classic holiday songs, leaning heavily on Tchaikovsky. What would the world have done without his beautiful Nutcracker? The biggest problem in her mind was the transitions. They were awkward in some places, nonexistent in others. Sometimes the girls simply walked off the stage, and the next group walked on. Every time she watched tha
t part of the performance, she winced.
Evie made a few notes, then rewound to the clog dancers who opened the show. Some of their steps were similar to tap, she thought. The sounds could echo each other. Slower, then faster. She stood and moved along with the girls on the recording. But as they turned to leave, she kept dancing, going a little more quickly, finding the rhythm of the tap dancers as they moved onto the stage.
She paused the frame and wrote some more, then made a couple of quick drawings to capture the exact poses she imagined. She moved on to the next transition and made changes there. She was just starting the third when someone rang her doorbell.
Her first thought was that it might be her mother. Dread coiled in her stomach. She wasn’t ready to face May, to deal with the family trauma again. Was hiding and ignoring the interruption too cowardly?
Whoever was at the door rang the bell again. Reluctantly, she walked over and opened it.
Relief was instant. Dante stood on her doorstep. He smiled at her.
“You’re home. I didn’t hear any pounding above my head, so I thought maybe you’d finished early. Get your coat.”
He looked good, she thought, studying his amused expression. He wore a leather jacket over jeans and a scarf. He had on boots. She could feel the cold of the rapidly darkening late afternoon.
She put her hands on her hips. “Get my coat? Was that an order? Newsflash. I don’t work for you.”
“Good. Because I don’t take anyone on my staff out.” He sighed. “Seriously, you’re going to be difficult?”
“No. I’m going to ask where we’re going.”
“Didn’t I say ‘out’? I would swear I did.”
She laughed. “Out where?”
“To the center of town. They’re decorating. Neither of us particularly likes the holiday season, so we need to be with people who are less corrupt. It will be good for us.”
“Will it?” She stepped back to allow him inside. “When did you make this discovery?”
“Earlier. So are you coming or what?”
“Give me a second.”
She turned off her TV and the laptop she’d hooked up for the DVDs, then stepped into boots and pulled them on. After shoving her house keys and a few dollars into her jeans pockets, she shrugged on her coat.
A Fool's Gold Christmas Page 5