“Awful.” Posy wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to listen to Prokofiev again without imagining a roomful of teen girls looking at her as if she were crazy.
“Come on. It couldn’t have been that bad.”
Oh, but it could. Worse, even. “It was. Trust me.”
Zoey flipped a yellow switch on the plane’s control panel. “How so?”
“I thought I’d be teaching little girls. I had the wrong lessons, the wrong music. I brought them teddy bears, for goodness sake. I had no idea they’d be teenagers. It caught me completely off guard.”
Zoey turned to look at her. “You mean you came all the way here to teach ballet, and you never asked the ages of the kids?”
“Your reaction is the same as Liam’s. He said the exact same thing.”
Zoey’s gaze returned to the view out the plane’s tiny windshield. “Well, he has a point, don’t you think?”
“Never mind Liam. He’s the least of my problems right now.” If that didn’t paint a perfect picture of the sad state of affairs, nothing would.
The plane drifted on in shadowy silence until Posy felt sufficiently bathed in darkness to admit the hard truth. “They hated me.”
“Who? The girls?” The tenderness in Zoey’s voice was palpable. “I’m sure that’s not true.”
“They must. At the very best, they find me patronizing. It was terrible, Zo.” An epic disaster. The cathartic act of pelting Liam with snowballs had made her forget it for a time, but as the plane crawled back to Aurora, the morning’s humiliation was returning full force.
Even once she’d gotten the music straightened out and chosen something different from the playlist on her iPod, she’d still barely been able to keep their attention.
Not that she could blame them exactly. How exciting could it possibly be for a bunch of sixteen-year-olds to rise up and down on their tiptoes for the entire length of a song? Or practice sliding one foot in and out, moving from first position to second, and then back to first? Over and over again.
Relevés, pliés, the basic foot and arm positions—those were the very foundations of ballet. She couldn’t start out teaching them how to leap or arabesque on day one. But that was what they’d expected, and she couldn’t blame them. She’d wanted more than that at their age. Far more.
“Part of me wonders if they even believe I can dance. They kept asking questions about my cast. It was humbling, to say the least.”
Which was precisely why she’d gone outside to give Liam a piece of her mind as soon as the excruciating two-hour lesson had concluded. Although, now that she thought about it, none of it had really been his fault.
She probably should have asked Lou more questions about the job. But at the time, it had seemed less like a job offer and more like a lifeline. People didn’t typically ask questions before grabbing hold of a lifeline. They generally held on as tightly as they could.
Maybe it was time to let go.
She could still go back to California. She could simply tell Lou that now that she’d further injured her foot, she didn’t think teaching was such a great idea. He’d be disappointed, but she doubted the girls would mind. They’d probably even be relieved.
Somehow the prospect of going back didn’t seem any more appealing than staying put.
She cleared her throat. “Thanks so much for everything you’ve done today, Zoey. For the ride, for staying with me at the doctor’s office...all of it.”
“You were hurt. I wasn’t about to leave you there all alone. I can’t imagine how lonely that would feel.” Zoey glanced at her, then let her gaze linger when Posy grew quiet.
“Posy?”
“Yes?” She had a feeling what was coming next. She hoped she was wrong. Certain memories weren’t worth revisiting, especially those that were still fresh.
“When you hurt your foot back in San Francisco, you had someone there to help you, didn’t you? Please tell me you weren’t alone.”
Posy swallowed. “Of course not. I fell onstage, remember? There were people everywhere.”
Zoey’s voice went whisper-soft, barely audible above the whir of the plane’s twin engine. “And afterward? At the hospital?”
“I hurt myself in the opening act. The performance had barely begun. You know...the show must go on and all that. The staff at the hospital was very accommodating.” It was the truth.
So why did she feel as if she was making excuses?
“There wasn’t a single person from the company who could go with you and hold your hand, tell you everything was going to be okay?”
There were all kinds of personalities in the ballet world, and while all of them were excellent at creating beauty through dance, Posy didn’t know many who were adept at hand holding. “It was an important show. Opening night.”
The air in the small plane was thick with disappointment. Posy wasn’t altogether sure if it was hers or Zoey’s.
“The company sent me a beautiful flower arrangement the next day, though. Pink roses. Very pretty.”
This news cheered Zoey, as Posy knew it would. “Roses. Now, there’s a treat I haven’t seen in a while.”
Since she’d first slipped on a pair of ballet shoes, Posy’s dreams had been rose-scented. While roses of all colors and varieties were commonplace at nearly every supermarket florist in the Lower 48, they were a rarity in Alaska. Pretty much the only way to procure a bouquet of roses in Aurora was to fly them in from Anchorage or, more often, Seattle. The long-stemmed beauties were as priceless as the gold dust that hopeful tourists still sought on panning tours down at Resurrection Creek on the Kenai Peninsula.
Posy could still remember the first time she’d seen a photograph of a ballerina bent into a deep curtsy at the end of a performance. The stage had been littered with red roses. A crimson carpet. The ballerina had worn a glittering tiara and held an ample bouquet in her willowy arms. Two or three dozen flowers at least. To a little girl from Alaska who’d never inhaled the perfume of a real rosebud, it had been the most extravagant of riches imaginable.
That had been years ago. Since then, Posy had been presented with more roses than she could count. But it never lost its charm. She was certain it never would.
“We’re just about to the airstrip, but first I have something special to show you.” Zoey maneuvered the plane into a sweeping curve. “Take a look down below.”
Posy squinted into the darkness beyond the airplane windows. Snowflakes danced against the glass in a silent, moonlit ballet. She couldn’t see a thing beyond the inky-black evergreens. She leaned closer and pressed her hand against the window. It was cold to the touch, and her breath landed on it in a soft, gray fog. Just when she was about to give up, she spotted movement among the shadows. She looked closer and made out a shape. Then another. And another.
Reindeer.
They were leaping and playing in the snow. An entire herd, their movements so graceful that it almost looked as though they were dancing.
Dasher...Prancer...
Dancer.
“They’re gorgeous.” A lump formed in Posy’s throat. She couldn’t believe it. She was getting emotional over a bunch of reindeer. It wasn’t as if she’d never seen one before. She’d grown up around them.
But she’d never seen them like this before. Dancing with abandon. The way they moved together was remarkable, almost as though it had been choreographed. The fact that it hadn’t, that it was spontaneous and natural, made it all the more special.
Something stirred in Posy’s soul. Something she hadn’t felt in a very long time and couldn’t quite name.
“Don’t tell me this is your farm.” She couldn’t imagine witnessing such a glorious display every night. “Are they yours?”
Zoey grinned. “Every last one.”
“How many are there?”
<
br /> “Thirty-one.” She grimaced. “Sometimes thirty. One of them is somewhat of a delinquent and runs away on occasion.”
Runaway reindeer. She was definitely back in Alaska.
Chapter Nine
The ground grew closer and closer until the plane finally touched down on the mirrored ice surface of the frozen lake that served as Aurora’s airport runway.
“Home sweet home.” Zoey taxied to the far end of the lake and brought the plane to a stop. “Wait right here. I don’t want you trying to walk on the ice. I think there’s a wheelchair in the office.”
“Okay.” Posy wasn’t about to argue with her. As much as she loathed the idea of exiting the runway in a wheelchair, Dr. Cooper’s lecture still rang in her ears.
Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation.
Somehow, crossing an ice-covered body of water on crutches didn’t seem to fit anywhere on that list.
She pulled on her mittens and waited in the silent cockpit. Snow fell from the sky thicker than it had all day. She could no longer see a thing out the window. Just a dizzying swirl of snowflakes. When at last someone rapped on the window, she jumped.
She opened the door. “You scared me, Zoey.”
But it wasn’t Zoey.
Liam stood outside the plane, and there wasn’t a wheelchair in sight. “Hi.”
What was he doing here? Surely he hadn’t been waiting around this entire time. “Hi.”
“I came out to give you a hand. The wheelchair has gone missing. If I had to venture a guess, I’d say someone is using it to haul firewood again.” He shrugged. “I guess there’s typically not much use for it otherwise.”
“Oh. Okay, well...” Before she could gather her crutches and swing her legs out of the plane, Liam scooped her up in his arms.
She hadn’t expected it this time. “Again?” she asked, anchoring her arms around his neck because, really, what else was she supposed to do with them?
“Again.” He gave her a tight smile. “Humor me, would you? The last time I saw you, I was worried I’d ruined you permanently.”
Wait. What?
“This wasn’t your fault.” She willed her body to relax in his arms. Don’t make this a bigger deal than it is. He’s simply trying to help.
How often had she been carried by male dancers, bodies pressed tightly against one another, and thought nothing of it? Countless times. Every day. For years.
But this was different. It felt intimate. It shouldn’t, but it did.
They were alone on the ice, wrapped in darkness and starlight. In the darkness of the evening shadows, the rest of Posy’s senses were heightened. The crunch of Liam’s hiking boots against the ice seemed impossibly loud. He had that woodsy smell that she’d noticed the last time he’d carried her. Damp earth and pine needles. She had to stop herself from burrowing her head into his shoulder and letting her eyes drift closed.
She was tired. That was all. It had been a long day. The longest.
And she couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss.
“I was in charge of things at the church, and you got hurt.” Liam’s words rumbled angrily in his chest. “I’m responsible.”
“I’m the one who went marching into the snow. And as I recall, I threw the first snowball. You said you weren’t my keeper. Remember?”
He shook his head. “That was before I realized just how much you need looking after.”
The lingering sweetness of the kiss began to sour. “I don’t need looking after. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
“Because it’s late and you gave me such a scare earlier, I’m going to be nice and refrain from pointing out that you’re being carried at the moment.” He pinned her with a look. “By necessity.”
She wanted to scream for him to put her down. And she would have, if not for the fact that he was right. It was sort of necessary. “Thank you,” she muttered.
“It’s nothing. I’d do the same for any of the kids.”
An icy stab of disappointment hit her square in the chest.
I’d do the same for any of the kids.
Was that how he saw her? As that same messed-up teen girl she’d been so long ago?
She didn’t want him to think of her as his responsibility. As someone to look after, like one of the kids.
What difference does it make? Until a few days ago, it hadn’t mattered if he’d thought of you at all.
* * *
Liam pushed through the back door of the Northern Lights Inn with Posy in his arms so quietly that at first their entrance went unnoticed. Their presence was pretty much lost in the hum of activity and the chattering of teenagers accompanied by the strum of Caleb’s guitar.
Every member of the church youth group was there, as they had been all night awaiting Posy’s return. Every boy and every girl. They huddled on the oversize leather sofas facing the fireplace. Empty cups from the coffee bar littered the coffee table.
“What’s this?” Posy asked. “Surely all of them haven’t been here the entire time.”
Liam looked down and realized she was still in his arms.
Put her down, you idiot.
She angled her face toward his to look at him, and for the briefest of moments, their eyes met. All Liam could think about was the kiss. That kiss that had come from nowhere.
He wished he could take it back. He would have gotten down on his knees and prayed for time to move backward so he could undo it if he thought such a prayer would be granted. To unkiss Posy.
He’d been worried about her. That was all. He shouldn’t have been. She’d be dancing in no time. Even if both of her feet somehow fell right off, she’d still somehow end up dancing off into the sunset.
Posy’s gaze fixed with his, and he realized he’d still had yet to set her on her feet. Her face was so close to his that he could see the tiny gold flecks in her gray eyes. Hidden treasure. “You shouldn’t have made them stay, Liam. Not for me.”
“Are you kidding? This wasn’t my idea. You know how I feel about airports.” He lowered her to the ground, waited to make sure she was steady on her feet and then released his hold on her.
His hands felt oddly empty all of a sudden.
“Then what’s going on? It looks like the entire youth group is here.” She shook her head. “Including your nutty dog. Really, Liam? The dog, too?”
He decided to ignore the dog comment. “The kids are here because they wanted to stay. They were worried about you. I repeat—it wasn’t my idea.”
“Yet here you are.” She aimed her gaze out the window at a ski plane taking off in the darkness and then back at him. “At an airport.”
She had a point. What exactly was he doing here?
“I couldn’t very well leave the kids unsupervised.” As if it was his job to watch them twenty-four hours a day.
“Right.”
“Don’t read into it.” But she was. He could tell. She had that look about her that she always had when she was concentrating on something very hard. Brow slightly furrowed, lips pressed together.
Only this time she was smiling. “It’s nice.”
Liam shoved his hands in his pockets and considered that possibly he needed to take his own advice. Don’t read into it. “The girls have been watching YouTube videos of you on my iPad all night long. You’d better prepare yourself for tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” There was a hint of bewilderment in her tone. “I sort of thought I was finished at the church.”
“Finished? After one day?”
“They didn’t seem all that interested.”
“They’re teenagers. They never seem interested. Give it time.” He couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of his mouth. She was on the verge of forgetting the whole ballet thing. That was what he want
ed, wasn’t it? Why the pep talk?
“I don’t know. I’m not sure what I can teach teenagers in such a short time, or if they even really want to learn. Sometimes I think...”
Whatever she said next was drowned out by the earsplitting squeals of the girls when they realized Posy had finally reappeared. They surrounded her, peppering her with questions and well-wishes.
“You’re back!”
“Posy!”
“Ohmygosh, is your foot okay?”
Even the boys gathered around, although Liam had noticed that Ronnie had been avoiding Melody like the plague once again. And there had been one or two wadded-up napkins thrown in her general direction over the course of the evening.
“Kids, settle down. Let’s give Posy some space, okay?” Liam could just see them toppling her over and injuring her further. His head hurt with the possibility.
“It’s fine,” Posy said. “Really.”
She was smiling wider than Liam had seen her smile since her return to Alaska, which didn’t make a whole lot of sense. It was pretty obvious by the hesitancy of her movements that she was in pain. He was certain she was thinking about her dancing. Worrying about it. Dance was always first and foremost on her mind.
“Posy, we saw you dance on the internet. It was amazing,” Melody said.
“Thank you.” Posy’s cheeks glowed pink. “Which ballet did you see?”
“You were wearing a white tutu,” Ava said. The tutu seemed to have made an impression on all the girls.
“Ah, that must have been Swan Lake.” Then she launched into a story about how it had been her first performance with the company.
Liam stepped back so she could give the girls her full attention. He didn’t need to hear the story anyway. He’d known Swan Lake had been her first real ballet, although he’d never been able to bring himself to watch the video. That had been in the weeks when the aftermath of Posy’s accident, of her leaving, had been the most painful. Like an open wound stubborn to heal. Why would he have tortured himself in such a way?
He sank onto one of the bar stools at the coffee counter. Then a gust of frigid wind blew inside as Zoey walked through the door.
Love Inspired March 2015 - Box Set 1 of 2: A Wife for JacobThe Forest Ranger's RescueAlaskan Homecoming Page 49