To Win Her Back

by Mackenzie Crowne

  Her mother had been grateful to the owners of the Double J. Not just for the job they’d offered her as housekeeper and cook, but for the home that came with the position. The ancient trailer behind the foaling shed might have put a roof over their heads, but for V, it had also been a constant reminder that while her prayers had been answered, Anita had paid the price.

  Swamped by guilt and terrified of saying something that would expose her filthy secret, V had withdrawn. Keeping Anita at arm’s length had quickly become a habit, and had shielded her from the ugliness but, as if caught in a self-imposed, vicious circle, V’s remorse was compounded by the hurt in her mother’s eyes.

  The moment V’s commission check from Jake’s first pro contract cleared the bank, she’d spent the entire amount in an effort to pay her mother back. Anita had balked the day V’s lawyer arrived at the Double J with the keys to the house on Cholla Drive and a bank book reflecting a balance that would allow her to quit her job and not look back.

  Ironically, less than six months later, V was able to hand Anita enough money to purchase her own dance studio if she wanted. She’d shot down the idea, saying she was a dance teacher, not a businesswoman. As far as V knew, the money was still sitting in the bank. Mad money, Mom had called it, in case the two of them decided to go on a world tour someday. So far, that hadn’t happened and never would.

  Not on that money. Those funds hadn’t come from answered prayers. God and his angels had nothing to do with it. Just the opposite. That money had come through evil forces, in reply to the desperate and dark cry of V’s heart as she lay curled on her bed in a frightened ball the night of her eleventh birthday.

  Hush money, left to her upon her father’s death.

  Although Anita had insisted V keep it, she couldn’t touch a penny. She’d flown into Barlow, signed over the check, and left on the next flight out.

  Funny, she’d thought learning Edward Price was dead would free her, but she was wrong. Although the memories came with less frequency, the sickening fear still woke her on occasion. Drenched in sweat, she’d lay frozen in bed, waiting for the moment when Daddy opened her bedroom door, knowing this time he wouldn’t stop, and she’d be shattered.

  In the distance, a freight train whistle echoed and she startled. Glancing around, she blew a ragged breath and, shoving the memories back into that dark place in her soul, climbed from the car. The weather had turned cold, and she tugged her coat closed.

  Inside the rec center, Lucy stood at the bar in first position. She turned her head and the serenity on her face morphed into a smile. With her arm above her head, she waggled her fingers in a wave. V smiled and waved back, then hurried inside.

  She’d been surprised by Lucy’s call this morning. Barely awake, V had rolled over at the sound of her phone and, for a moment, she hadn’t known where she was. Recall came quickly as Lucy asked if she would like to stop by the center before heading to the house to finish packing. This was her last dance lesson with Anita before they left for Manhattan, and would V like to see her dance? She would have said yes, anyway, but the chance to delay seeing Sam for even an hour was a bonus she hadn’t expected and couldn’t turn down.

  The soothing notes of a classical piece filled the air as V closed the door behind her. She glanced up and grinned at the jangle of the small bell announcing her arrival. As the story went, Mr. Thompson’s young bride had hung the bell there on the day they’d opened the bakery—to remind her of the church bells that had rung the day they were married. For V, the musical chime conjured up memories of Mrs. Thompson’s double-chocolate cupcakes and sweet scents.

  In addition to Lucy, only four girls were present. All of them were younger, perhaps nine or ten. Anita called out instruction as, lined up behind Lucy at the bar, they seemed to be following her lead.

  Anita turned, and pleasant surprise widened her smile. “V. You’re here!”

  V ventured farther into the room and stopped at her side. “Lucy invited me to come see her dance. I hope I’m not disturbing the class.”

  “Oh, heavens no. They’re almost finished. I’m so glad you stopped by. I have two classes this afternoon and wasn’t sure I’d get to see you again before you left town.”

  They’d celebrated Christmas yesterday in V’s suite in Tyler. The five-star restaurant had lived up to its rating with a delicious meal of roasted squab, red potatoes, and grilled asparagus as the Marauders added another W to their win column. In a long-standing agreement, Sam was one of those topics they avoided. After V’s date on Christmas Eve, skirting the elephant in the room had made the day even more uncomfortable than usual.

  With the movers arriving in an hour, the last of Sam and Lucy’s belongings would be on the road no later than three this afternoon. V had booked them all on a six o’clock flight.

  “I’d planned to come by this afternoon before heading to the airport, but this is so much better. I’m excited to see Lucy dance.”

  “She’s very good. I’m so glad she’ll be continuing her lessons in Manhattan.”

  V smiled. “I don’t think that was ever in doubt. She’s very passionate about ballet.”

  “The best always are.” Anita turned toward Lucy, and her smile faded. “She has the talent and the drive, but she’s had so much upheaval in her life. This move will be good for Sam. I’m hoping it works out for her, too.”

  Mrs. Thompson’s bell chimed before V could ask why it wouldn’t. She turned her head as several women stepped inside. All three looked vaguely familiar and were, if the surprise in their eyes that quickly turned to disapproval was any indication. A fourth passed by the front window, head dipped against the wind.

  V braced herself for an altercation, but one never came. The music faded to a stop and Anita clapped her hands. “Excellent job, ladies. Be sure to bundle up before going outside. It’s freezing out there.”

  Lucy immediately crossed the room. She greeted V with a hug, then stepped back and smiled as the younger girls scrambled for their coats and bags. “Thank you for coming.”

  V’s heart squeezed at the genuine appreciation in her dark eyes. Minus the usual black makeup, soft flecks of gold stood out in the irises, making them shine. “I wouldn’t have missed the chance to see you dance for the world.”

  A faint blush of pleasure bloomed on Lucy’s cheeks. One by one, the girls from the class approached to hug her goodbye until she was surrounded by all four. V was reminded that today marked another new beginning for Sam’s daughter. According to him, she’d only come to live with him four months ago. Yet, here she was, facing more of that upheaval Anita had mentioned with their move to Manhattan. Lucy’s dancing wasn’t the only thing that would be affected. Once again, she’d be starting over. V knew how difficult that could be, which must be what her mother had meant by things working out for the girl.

  Not much taller than the younger girls, Lucy draped her arms around them in a group hug. “I got a new laptop for Christmas, and Sam helped me set up my own MyWorld account. Miss Anita can give your mothers the web address so you’ll be able to follow me and see what I’m doing, okay?”

  Anita was briefly inundated with requests for Lucy’s MyWorld address but, within a few minutes, the studio was quiet and empty except for the three of them. Anita pointed V to a chair where she’d be out of the way. Lucy stepped to the center of the wooden parquet floor and dipped into a plie as Anita cued the music on the studio’s sound system.

  Soaring notes filled the room. Lucy rose to the toes of her shoes, seemingly suspended for several heartbeats, then burst into motion. Delicate one moment, powerful the next, the dance defied the laws of physics. Confident joy radiated from her face as Lucy utilized the entire space of the room. Swaying. Bowing. A graceful leap followed by a dizzying spin. V watched in awe as Sam’s daughter became one with the music, speaking in visual words of raw emotion. The graceful stretch of her arms pleaded with longing. The toss of her head as she turned away suddenly was full of reje
ction and disdain. She began to spin, her slim body riding the music to its crescendo, then dropping to the floor in abject defeat as silence returned.

  V’s instinct was to leap to her feet in a standing ovation, but she was too overwhelmed to move. Her mother was wrong. Lucy wasn’t good. She was exceptional. One of those dancers who came along only once in a century. The Manhattan dance community didn’t have a clue what they were getting, but they would soon, if V had to see to it herself.

  She pressed a hand to her chest as Lucy uncurled from the floor and sat up. Sweat dampened her brow and darkened her leotard like a bib at her chest. She met V’s gaze and sighed.

  “Oh, Lucy. That was….” She shook her head at a loss for words. “That was beautiful.”

  Anita wore a grin and handed Lucy a towel. “I tried to tell you.”

  V stood as Lucy rose to her feet. “Brilliance can’t be expressed in words, Mom. It has to be seen to be believed.”

  Chest heaving from exertion, Lucy mopped at her face, but that didn’t hide the raw pleasure still shining in her eyes. “Your mom helped me with the choreography.”

  V smiled when Anita shook her head as if to say it was all Lucy. “Then maybe Mom should come to New York, too. Together, you two will take the Big Apple by storm.”

  Lucy grinned, but Anita dismissed the idea, as V knew she would. Over the years, she had occasionally suggested Anita move to Manhattan, only to be relieved when she rejected the idea. Sadness darkened Anita’s eyes as she repeated the same answer she always gave V. “I’m a small-town girl and always will be.” Dropping her arm around Lucy’s shoulders, she squeezed. “But, I expect front-row seats for your first prima performance at the Met.”

  Lucy laughed. “It’s a deal.”

  Ten minutes later, after a teary goodbye, Anita shooed them out the door so she could prepare for her next class. Before they’d taken two steps toward the car, a teasing glint sparkled in Lucy’s eyes. She motioned toward the donut shop at the end of the block with a jerk of her head.

  “Oh, no. After that performance, protein is what you need, not sugar.”

  V rounded the hood.

  Lucy paused beside the passenger door. “But Sam likes donuts.”

  V squinted and held Lucy’s hopeful gaze over the top of the car. “Sucks to be him, then. Get in. We’ll pick up a few egg sandwiches on the way to the house.”

  Sitting at the window in the drive-thru lane at the Dairy Barn, V laughed and caved when Lucy leaned over to instruct the teenage attendant to add a chocolate shake to their order.

  Lucy had devoured half of her sandwich by the time they’d gone a block. V stopped for the red light and glanced her way. “Has your father started the paperwork to enroll you in school yet? I hadn’t thought of it before but, after seeing you dance, one of the city’s arts academies might be a better fit than a traditional high school.”

  Lucy’s cheeks caved in as she sucked from her straw, then swallowed. “Sam checked out a couple of places where dance is part of the curriculum. He said he’d contact them if I wanted, but,” she shrugged, “I don’t think so.”

  The light turned green and V stepped on the gas. “A diploma from one of the academies will help open doors you’ll want to walk through later. Why wouldn’t you want to take advantage of that?”

  From the corner of her eye, she was aware of Lucy’s stiffened posture. Turning her head, V was surprised to see the flash of fear in Lucy’s eyes before she turned to look out the passenger-side window. She lowered her shake to her lap, clenching it in both hands.

  “The tuition at those places is really high.”

  “Oh, sweetie. Your father can afford it. Believe me, the Marauders pay well.”

  She shook her head. “That’s what he said, but I couldn’t stand it if I started there, then had to leave.”

  “Why would you have to leave?”

  “Because I don’t have any money. If the DNA test says Sam’s not my dad….” V’s fingers involuntarily clenched around the steering wheel as Lucy turned her head and met her gaze. Though no emotion showed on the girl’s face, hell screamed in her eyes. “Why would he invest that kind of money in a kid who isn’t even his?”

  Chapter 14

  With Daisy in her crate in the van’s cab, and Sam’s truck on a car hauler behind it, the movers pulled from the curb to begin their two-day drive to Manhattan. Sam stood at the open front door and watched Lucy climb into the back seat of the next door-neighbor’s SUV. Alice Walker’s invitation to the Dairy Barn, to thank Lucy for being such a great babysitter these past four months, had produced little more than a tepid “okay.” However, the two-year-old girl on Alice’s hip, holding out her arms and squealing “Woocy,” was apparently impossible for Lucy to resist.

  Something was off. With the moving van pulling away, leaving the house virtually empty, he was a little out-of-sorts himself, but he didn’t think that was the cause of Lucy’s funk. She hadn’t been in Barlow that long. Didn’t feel the same attachment he did for the place.

  Something had happened this morning. Lucy had been quiet since they’d arrived at the house after dance class, and V had been avoiding his gaze.

  When the SUV turned right at the end of the street, he shut the door and went in search of V. He found her in the kitchen. Bent at the waist, her head and shoulders inside the fridge, she scrubbed at a spot on one of the shelves. He propped a shoulder against the doorjamb and took a moment to enjoy the view of her denim-covered ass.

  No skirt today. She’d arrived carrying a garment bag he assumed contained the sophisticated business armor she’d don for their flight later, but she’d come to work. Her russet curls were pulled back in a plain ponytail, and the soft, pale peach sweater and faded jeans brought back memories of the girl who used to ride shotgun in his old pickup on humid summer nights.

  Those days were long past, however, and they had more important issues to tackle than choosing between the bonfire at the old mine or cuddling up together at the drive-in. He cleared his throat.

  V yelped and straightened with a start, banging the back of her head on the open freezer door. Sam grimaced and pushed off the doorjamb as she turned accusing eyes his way. “You scared me, you jerk.” She felt her scalp and winced. “I’m going to have a lump.”

  “Let me see.” He stalked forward, and she scooted to the side to avoid him. He stuck out his arm to trap her. Pinned between the open fridge door and his forearm, she had no choice but to comply.

  Moving her hand away, he slid his fingers into the silky hair above her ponytail and felt for a wound. There was no contusion, but she was right, there was already a slight swelling. Glancing around, he reached for one of the clean rags on the counter, then scooped up some ice from the cooler of water bottles he’d put together that morning. He folded it into the rag and held up the makeshift ice pack.

  “Have a seat.”

  “Where, exactly?” She glanced around the empty room. He rolled his eyes.

  “Right. We’ll have to improvise.” Stepping in front of her again, he handed her the pack, then cupped her waist to lift her.

  “Wait. Stop.” She grabbed his shoulders, fumbling the rag full of ice.

  He plunked her down on the counter. She narrowed her eyes in silent warning, but damn. She felt so good under his fingers, he was slow to remove his hands. He took the rag and rewrapped it, then handed it back. “Keep that on the bump for a few minutes.”

  As she lifted the rag to her head, he leaned his hands on the counter on both sides of her hips and stared into her eyes. Her pupils were dilated, but they were the same size.

  She arched away from him. “What are you doing?”

  He bent forward, keeping the distance between them constant. “Checking for concussion.”

  She slapped him in the chest with the ice pack and shoved until he straightened away from her. “Back off, Fitzpatrick. I didn’t hit my head that hard.”

  “Safety fi
rst.” He twisted his lips into his most charming smile.

  “More like ‘annoying’ first.” She reapplied the ice-filled rag.

  He chuckled at her snarky tone, then crossed his arms. “Now, tell me what happened at the dance studio.”

  Her eyes immediately went wary, but up came her chin. “I watched Lucy dance.”

  “And?”

  Her entire posture softened, along with her eyes. “And she’s incredible, Sam.”

  “So your mother tells me.”

  The hand holding the ice pack dropped to her lap. “Mom told me, too, but God. I had no idea. I certainly didn’t expect what I saw. Lucy comes alive in pointe shoes.”

  Anita had told him much the same thing, but she was Lucy’s teacher. Hearing the awe in V’s voice, he couldn’t help the swell of pride filling his chest. “I’ll take your word for it.”

  Surprise widened her eyes. “You haven’t seen her dance?”

  “She hasn’t invited me yet. I was respecting her space. Now, back to my question. What happened? The two of you showed up here this morning looking like you’d just walked out of a slasher movie.”

  She started to slide off the counter, but he crowded close, keeping her where she was. After a long stare down, she sighed. “Fine. Lucy told me something that obviously upsets her but, while she didn’t swear me to secrecy, I’d like to respect her privacy.”

  “She’s my daughter, V. Don’t you think I should know if something has her upset?”

  From the way she froze, her face a mask of uncertainty, he knew exactly what they’d discussed. Dropping his head to hang chin to chest, he propped his hands on his hips. “She told you about the DNA test.”

  “Yes, she did.”

  Cursing beneath his breath, his arms fell to his sides. With his chest heaving in fury, he bent over the cooler and threw open the lid to grab a water bottle. He needed something in his hands. He was pretty damn sure the real estate agent he’d hired to sell the house wouldn’t appreciate a row of holes in the walls.