Love Inspired December 2014 - Box Set 2 of 2: Her Holiday FamilySugar Plum SeasonHer Cowboy HeroSmall-Town Fireman

by Ruth Logan Herne

  Amy was more than a little impressed. She’d given him an out, but he stubbornly refused to take it. Most people she knew were quick to choose the path of least resistance, but not this one. Even though he had a perfectly viable excuse, she trusted him to deliver exactly what he’d promised her, in time for their show. That was the kind of guy every girl needed in her life, she mused with a smile. The kind who stood up and took his responsibilities seriously instead of dodging them at the first sign of trouble.

  “All right, but I’m willing to help if you tell me what you need.” The line went quiet, and after a few seconds she said, “Jason?”

  “Yeah, I’m here.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  “No, it’s just—” Heaving a sigh, he went on. “I guess I’m more tired than I thought is all. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Something in his voice sounded off, but she couldn’t quite peg it, so she accepted his explanation. After all, he’d been through a lot today. She’d experienced enough of that herself to understand how draining it could be. “Have a good night.”

  “You, too.”

  She’d no sooner hung up than her phone rang again. Checking the caller ID, she was surprised to see it was the doctor who’d led the surgical team that operated on her after her accident. They hadn’t been in touch recently, and she couldn’t imagine what he wanted. “Hello, Dr. Fitzgerald. How are you?”

  “Excited,” he replied in his usual brisk way. “I think you will be, too, when you hear what I have to say.”

  Amy felt her pulse spike, then cautioned herself to remain calm. Her hopes had been raised many times in the past, only to be dashed later on. Steadying her voice, she said, “Go ahead.”

  In a tone laced with more of the same enthusiasm, he described an experimental procedure he and some colleagues had developed for treating injuries like hers. Their initial trials had gone well, and they were looking for volunteers to undergo the treatment for real.

  “Based on your age and general health,” he continued, “I think you’d be an excellent candidate.”

  “Why haven’t I heard about this on the news?” she asked warily.

  “It’s experimental, and we don’t want to publicize it until we have some solid results to report. I have to warn you, there is a potential downside.”

  Of course there was, she groused silently. There was always a downside. “I’m listening.”

  “If it’s successful, this surgery should restore your full range of motion through your back and legs.”

  “And if it fails?”

  “You could be paralyzed.”

  Could be, she echoed silently. Two tantalizing words she’d heard so often, clinging to the slender hope that somehow her body would find a way to heal itself and function the way it was supposed to. But that hadn’t happened, and she wasn’t certain she could muster the emotional energy to risk suffering through that kind of disappointment again.

  Still, the idea of walking freely—maybe even dancing again—was incredibly tempting. She wasn’t foolish enough to think she’d ever be a prima ballerina. That dream had died long ago, but she might be able to take on secondary roles in a small company somewhere. It wasn’t her ideal, but at least that way she’d be doing what she loved.

  “I’ll have to think about it,” she finally said. “When do you need my answer?”

  “Tomorrow, at the latest. One of our original volunteers opted out, and we have to fill the spot quickly to keep everything on track. We’ve reserved a section of the hospital for our patients, and we need to do quite a bit of prep work beforehand. You’d need to be here in New York right after Christmas, and the actual procedure would be done in early January. If you decide you’re not interested, I have to start going down my list and find someone else.”

  Oh, she was interested, all right. The timing would allow her to finish up The Nutcracker and spend time with her family before leaving for New York. Since her mother was coming for the show, she’d catch a ride back with her and be able to stay at her Manhattan apartment following her surgery.

  Was she really considering this? While her mind clicked through the things she’d have to do to make this work, it became obvious that part of her was already on board.

  Another part, the one she’d only recently begun to discover, whispered a single—but very important—objection.

  What about Jason?

  Putting aside a question she couldn’t easily answer, she wrapped up her call. “I’ll definitely get back to you, one way or the other. Whatever I decide, I’m so grateful you thought of me. This is a wonderful opportunity for someone like me.”

  “We’ll talk tomorrow, then. Goodbye, Amy.”

  She hung up, watching as the wallpaper on her phone’s screen faded back into place. It was a picture of Jason and her at the Starlight Festival, gazing upward as the star on top of the town tree was being lit. Chelsea had taken the photo and texted it to her, and it had immediately become Amy’s favorite. He stood behind her in the protective way she’d come to associate with him. Although he wasn’t touching her, she could almost feel those strong arms wrapped around her, shielding her from the press of the crowd.

  It was a comforting sensation she’d come to rely on as their unexpected friendship continued to grow. If she agreed to the surgical trial and it went well, what then? In her heart, she knew that if there was even a sliver of a chance for her to perform again, she wouldn’t be content teaching no matter how adorable her students were.

  But if it turned out to be another failure, she might never walk again. Then what would she do to support herself? Beyond that, if she was confined to a wheelchair for the rest of her life, her flickering hopes of marriage and adopting a child might be gone forever.

  Completely overwhelmed by the choice she was faced with, she did something that not long ago would never have occurred to her. Looking up, she said, “I trust that You brought me to this point for a reason. Please help me do the right thing.”

  Nothing.

  While she hadn’t expected an immediate response, some kind of sign would have been nice.

  The alert on her phone chimed, reminding her it was almost time for rehearsal. As if on cue, the front door jingled and high-pitched voices blended with the classical Christmas music she’d left playing in the studio.

  Her answer would have to wait, she supposed as she stood to meet her early arrivals. Because if this turned out to be her final Nutcracker production, she was determined to give it everything she had.

  * * *

  “It’s me!” Jason hollered on his way into Arabesque the following day. “Don’t shoot!”

  Amy was onstage adjusting the long drapes that hung around the fake bay window in the ballroom. When she turned to look at him, his heart rolled over in his chest like a lovesick hound. Even though he’d been engaged before, this sensation was like nothing he’d ever felt, and he wasn’t sure what to make of it. He’d just seen Amy yesterday, but it felt as if it had been much longer.

  Oh, man, he thought with a mental groan. Somehow, when he wasn’t paying attention, he’d stumbled into some dangerous territory. It was one thing to admire a pretty girl, but for a guy like him who’d been dropped hard, doing emotional cartwheels wasn’t smart. If only he knew how to stop.

  “Hi there,” Amy said when she met him in the wings. “How’s Olivia today?”

  “Better, I think. She never complains about anything, so it’s hard to tell.”

  “I wish more people were like that,” Amy commented wryly.

  “Tell me about it.” Setting down his toolbox, he mentally reviewed where they were on her list. “So tonight, it’s the bookcases and fireplace, right?”

  “Jason, we need to talk.”

  Not what he wanted to hear. Those were troublemaker words every man dreaded, and
he braced himself for the worst. “Okay.”

  “I’m sorry,” she began, twisting her hands in obvious distress. “I didn’t mean to jump into it like that. Would you like a snack or something?”

  “No, I’m good.” She looked so upset, he wanted nothing more than to chase away whatever was bothering her. Even if it turned out to be him. Taking a seat on the steps leading down from the stage, he patted the one above him. She hesitated, but finally sat down, and he gave her an encouraging nod. “Go ahead.”

  Another pause, then she plunged right in. “One of the surgeons who operated on me after my accident called me. He and some of his colleagues have developed a new procedure that could restore my full range of motion.”

  “Amy, that’s awesome!” When she frowned, he felt his expression fall to mirror hers. “It’s not awesome?”

  “It could be,” she allowed, avoiding his gaze while she picked at a stray piece of tape on the stage. “But if it doesn’t work, I could end up being paralyzed.”

  For a few seconds, Jason was so stunned he couldn’t think of a single thing to say. When his brain began functioning on all cylinders again, he understood why she was so skittish about sharing her news with him. “You’re seriously thinking about doing this, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  She didn’t say anything more, but when her eyes met his, the defiance glittering in them spoke for her. She wasn’t asking for his opinion, he realized, or his permission. But he couldn’t stand by and watch her risk her health this way. “I think it’s a bad idea.”

  “I didn’t ask you.”

  “That doesn’t mean I don’t have a few thoughts on the subject.”

  Jumping up, he began pacing in front of the huge Christmas tree they and the kids had decorated for the show. He’d lifted Clara up to place the star on top, and like a moron he’d envisioned doing that with his own little girl someday. The memory surfaced from nowhere, and he firmly pushed it back down to wherever it had come from.

  Staring up at the pulleys and cables that operated the stage curtains, he closed his eyes and sent up a fervent prayer for patience. When he felt calmer, he turned to face Amy. “Please explain to me why you’re considering this.”

  “Because it could be my last chance to fix what’s wrong with me.”

  That was the root of the problem, he understood. Her obsession with perfection had bothered him in the past, but never more than in this moment. Because he’d always been aware of his own failings, he couldn’t comprehend her perspective on what it meant to be flawless. But he did understand that in the past she’d been just that, and she longed to reclaim as much of it as she could.

  That didn’t mean he couldn’t try to change her mind, though.

  “There’s nothing wrong with you,” he insisted, crossing the stage to hunker down in front of her. “You’re perfect just the way you are.”

  Her wistful gaze communicated more than any words could possibly say. “That’s sweet of you, but we both know it isn’t true.”

  Taking her hand, he met those sorrow-filled blue eyes with every ounce of compassion he had in him. “I believe it is, with all my heart.”

  “Please don’t take this the wrong way,” she begged in a tearful voice. “But that doesn’t really matter. What matters is what I believe.”

  Since he shared that particular conviction with her, he had no choice but to give her that one. Thankfully, another argument floated into his mind. “Okay, so what’ll you do if the surgery goes wrong and you’re paralyzed? It’s hard to teach dance when you can’t show the kids the steps.”

  “I’ll find another job somewhere.”

  He could tell she was trying desperately to appear confident, but the shadow of doubt in her expressive eyes gave her away. The only thing she’d ever wanted to do was dance, or teach dance, so he was fairly certain she’d never learned how to do anything else. It was mean of him, but he forged ahead in what he suspected would be a last-ditch attempt to make her see reason. “Doing what?”

  “I don’t know, something,” she retorted defiantly. “Rachel’s not exactly a rocket scientist. If she can find a job, so can I.”

  The uncalled-for attack on his ex made Jason’s temper flare, and he wrestled it under control to keep this from getting personal. He couldn’t accomplish anything if he lost his cool and started yelling. “We’re not talking about her right now. We’re talking about you. What’s really bothering you?”

  At first, Amy just glowered at him, which worked in his favor because it gave him a chance to rein his own emotions back into line. She meant a lot to him, and he wanted nothing more than for her to be happy. This just didn’t seem to him like the smartest way to go about it, but Granddad had taught him that the best way to resolve a disagreement was to listen to the other side all the way through. And since this was such a huge decision for Amy, Jason figured he owed her that much.

  “This is very important to me,” she finally said, her voice trembling with a mixture of anger and disappointment. “I thought you’d be more supportive than—”

  She cut off abruptly, but it didn’t take a genius to fill in that blank.

  “Devon?” This time, he didn’t bother hiding his frustration and stood to his full height. As he folded his arms in his most intimidating pose, it was his turn to scowl. “You’re seriously gonna compare me to that snake?”

  “He always told me what I should do,” she argued, “how I should handle my career. You’re doing the same thing now, trying to talk me out of having this surgery.”

  “Because it could ruin your life!”

  “It’s my life, and I have no intention of letting someone else talk me into anything.”

  She tilted her chin rebelliously, and he recognized that he was treading on extremely thin ice with her. She was a grown woman, and ordinarily he’d honor her right to choose the option she felt was best for her. But what she was contemplating made absolutely no sense to him. Beyond that, she’d come so far in making a new career here in Barrett’s Mill. Whatever the outcome of her surgery, he feared she’d eventually regret leaving the studio for the slim possibility of reviving her performing career.

  “What about your students?” he demanded. “I thought you liked working with them.”

  “I love it,” she affirmed in a wistful tone. “But there’s no way for me to have that and my own career besides.”

  Sensing that she was wavering, he took a single step forward into the space he normally kept between them. The urge to hold her was so overwhelming, it took some serious willpower to keep his hands at his sides. Very quietly, he said, “That’s a tough choice to make.”

  “I know.”

  She looked up at him with such longing, he almost couldn’t stand it. Part of him wanted to jump in and offer to go with her, even if only until her surgery was complete and she knew the outcome. Once the holidays were over, things would slow down at the mill enough to allow him to take some time off. Then logic reasserted itself to remind him he was a country boy who’d be completely lost in the big city.

  It killed him to admit that, but he couldn’t deceive her. Or himself. He might give that life a shot to please her, but he’d visited enough busy places to know that in the long run he’d never last. They were too crowded, and the hectic lifestyle made him long for wide-open spaces where he could breathe. Amy fit nicely into Barrett’s Mill, but he couldn’t envision himself doing the same in a bustling place like New York.

  Because of that, if they were going to remain together, she was the one who had to compromise. Which meant he had to come up with a way to convince her to stay. “What happens to the studio if you leave?”

  “Aunt Helen will finish out this block of classes and then close it down. That was her plan before I came here, anyway.”

  “It’s a shame to disappoint all those
kids,” he ventured, hoping to appeal to her affection for the children she’d come to like so much.

  “There’s a good teacher over in Cambridge. I’m sure she’ll be happy to take them on.”

  “She’s not you.” In so many ways, he added silently.

  “I don’t expect you to understand,” she said, backing away from him in an unmistakable effort to put some distance between them. “But this could be my last chance at being the way I used to be. I have to take it.”

  He’d tried every trick in his book, knowing all the while how it would end. When Amy set her mind on something, there was simply no budging her. Grudgingly, he gave in. “Like you said, it’s your life.”

  “Yes, it is.” Glancing around, she came back to him with the same detached look in her eyes he’d seen the first day he met her. “I think the sets are far enough along that Uncle Fred and I can finish them up. Thank you so much for all your help, Jason.”

  Offering her hand, she stared at him with an unreadable expression. Now that he’d voiced an opinion that differed from hers, apparently he’d slid down the list from good friend to hired hand. Must be some kind of record, he groused as he politely shook her hand. There were so many things he wanted to tell her, but he knew they’d sound either lame or pathetic or both, so he kept them to himself. “You’re welcome.”

  Since there was really nothing more to say, he picked up his toolbox and headed for the door. The bells jingled, a cheerful sound at odds with the heaviness weighing him down as he left. He knew he should just keep going, but he couldn’t help looking back. What he saw just about broke his heart.

  Standing alone in the middle of the ballroom, framed in the halo of a spotlight, Amy was staring up at the star on top of the lighted tree. The scene brought to mind their evening at the Starlight Festival, when they’d confided in each other and started building something that had become much more than friendship for him. The little ballerina he’d admired as a child had grown into an exquisite, aggravating woman who had an uncanny ability to challenge him one moment and charm him the next. Watching her now, he wished there was something more he could do to persuade her to rethink her decision and stay. Since there wasn’t, he turned and headed for home.