Snow Dance (6 page)

Fluffy
?
As in Mrs. Ramhorst
?

Was this a hallucination? Could hypothermia cause hallucinations? Or maybe Amanda was seeing this woman because she was about to die the same way Mrs. Ramhorst had. Didn’t Russ say they found her body frozen in the snow?

But wait. If this was really Mrs. Ramhorst…Amanda was seeing a ghost.

Just as she thought that, the woman curved her arm as if asking Amanda to follow.

She did.

And Amanda kept following her.

Finally she saw a light again. Two lights. A car! No, a truck.

Amanda ran forward as fast as she could on stiff legs in the knee-deep snow. She waved her arms and shouted, “Hello! Wait! Stop!”

The truck slowed. Amanda kept running. Someone got out of the passenger side.

“Russ!”

He raced toward Amanda and bundled her in his arms. As he kissed her cheeks, her lips, her hair, he said, “I went to your place. Wanted to talk. But you didn’t show. And didn’t answer your cell.”

“Oh, Russ, I’m so sorry. I’m an idiot. I was wrong. About Casey. And us.”

“Don’t worry. I’m just thankful you’re safe. Let’s get you warmed up.” He walked her to a truck with a snowplow on the front.

Russ climbed in and pulled Amanda onto his lap. She recognized Parker Richardson at the wheel.

He nodded to her and said, “Russ called me, worried you were stuck out here somewhere.”

“Thanks, Parker. And would you please tell Casey I want her to come back and work for me? Tell her I’m sorry. And that I was wrong.”

As they drove off, Russ told her about Marty Richardson’s death. A fate that she might have met as well, had it not been for the ghost of old Mrs. Ramhorst.

Warm in his arms, her face tucked into his neck, she decided it couldn’t wait, and she whispered, “I love you, Russ.”

He dipped his head near to hers. “I love you, too. Even if you are the most stubborn woman I ever met.”

“Russ, I have to tell you something. I saw Mrs. Ramhorst. Her ghost. She had Fluffy in her arms. I never would’ve found you and Parker without her. She’s the one who led me to you.”

“Is that who gave you back your blue scarf?”

“What?” Amanda looked down, and there it was, tied around her neck. Her precious blue silk scarf.

Russ laughed and held her close.

About the Authors

Alicia & Roy Street are Daphne du Maurier Award winning authors writing in collaboration as well as on solo projects. A compulsive reader of every genre, Alicia spent many years as a dancer, choreographer and teacher. Roy has a background in visual arts, standup comedy and theater.

Visit Alicia at -
http://aliciastreet-roystreet.com/

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http://www.facebook.com/AliciaAndRoyStreet.authors

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AVAILABLE NOW from Alicia & Roy Street —

Casey as the grown up heroine in…

KISS ME, DANCER — Dance ‘n’ Luv Series Book #1 (Casey & Drew)

After too many failures and disappointments Casey nicknamed herself “Calamity” Richardson. But at twenty-eight she finally found her calling working with children in her dance academy. Unfortunately she is about to lose it. Should she accept the help offered by her student’s divorced dad, a wealthy trucking mogul whose way too hot body and penetrating blue eyes have been haunting her dreams? His arrogant, womanizing nature signals danger for Casey, who’s already been hurt in the past.

Can she save her school without losing her heart?

Winning comes naturally to Drew Byrne. As head of a Fortune 500 company, he enjoys his wealth and has no problem keeping it a game with some of the world’s most beautiful women. So why should his son’s challenging, straight talking dance teacher get under his skin in a way no other female has? He tells himself it is because Casey is the only one able to bring his shy, uncommunicative son out of his shell.

Or is it because Drew has finally met his match?

AND DON’T MISS —

Parker’s story in…

TOUCH ME AND TANGO — Dance ‘n’ Luv Series Book #2 (Parker & Tanya)

Parker Richardson grew up early. At seventeen he took care of his mother and younger sisters and began running his late father’s gardening business. Strong and down-to-earth, nothing knocked him off his feet until he met Tanya Gentilliano. The spoiled, selfish and outrageously beautiful young dancer took him for a spin that left him dizzy for years to come.

Over a decade has passed, and Tanya, a rising star in the world of ballroom dance, has traveled internationally, winning over audiences with her clean technique, dazzling smile and showgirl legs. But after an SOS phone call from her weird-and-wild mom, she rushes home to the quiet coastal village on Long Island’s East End and runs smack into Parker Richardson.

Seeing each other again brings back all the heartache, all the fury—and a secret danger that will change both of their lives forever.

Please enjoy an excerpt of KISS ME, DANCER

© Alicia & Roy Street

Casey Richardson stopped correcting the drooping hands and unpointed feet of her nine and ten-year-old students doing ronde de jambes at the barre when a man barged into her sunny mirrored studio, interrupting her Saturday morning ballet class.

A man who just happened to resemble a Greek god walking the earth in jeans and silky black tee. She ignored the flush of heat going through her at the sight of this hunk and said, “Excuse me, sir, but we have a class in session.”

He shot Casey an impatient glance, stunning her with teal blue eyes. Grabbed little Josh by the arm and tugged him toward the lobby.

She’d seen Josh’s parents at the last dance recital, and this guy definitely was not one of them. “Wait a second,” Casey said, trying to cut him off as he made his way from the studio. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He stepped past her.

The classroom of students fell silent. Casey turned to them. “Same drill. Ronde de jambes. Let’s go.” She nodded to Jiao at the piano. Her accompanist went into Chopin’s Waltz in C-sharp minor.

Casey raced out to the lobby after the man (trying not to notice he had the most splendid back she’d ever seen). Timid Josh gave him no resistance, but looked like he was about to cry.

“Lisa, block the door.” The eighteen-year-old intern at the desk just sat there wide-eyed, unprepared for the sudden call to arms.

But Casey wasn’t about to let some pervert make off with one of her precious flock. As the hunk reached for the door handle she slipped in front of him, her back to the door, her palms pressed like stop signs against his chest. She told herself she didn’t notice the hard curve of muscle beneath her hands. Or that his face looked even better up close. “Hold it or I’ll call the police. Who are you, and what do you want with Josh?”

He gave her a cocky smirk, shifted his focus to her low-cut leotard and continued down her body with an assessing gaze. Casey practically lived in tights, but she suddenly felt undressed and exposed. She dropped her hands.

He murmured, “And who are you?”

His challenging tone struck an old chord of self-doubt deep within Casey. After so many years of not quite fitting anywhere and seeing everything she tried go up in smoke, she’d begun calling herself “Calamity” Richardson. But at twenty-eight the hard won accomplishment of running her own studio gave her a chance to silence that internal voice.

And after the troublesome letter she received this morning, Casey already had enough on her plate without letting some dude reeking in attitude come marching in from nowhere with an intimidating side dish of his own bad day.

“I’m Casey Richardson, the director of North Cove Dance Academy. And you are?”

“I’m his father. So, don’t go all rabid on me, pixie.”

“Josh, do you know this man? Tell me the—”

Mr. Handsome cut her off. “You want my I.D? Or maybe you need a sample of my DNA?”

“I want to hear from Josh.”

“He’s my other dad,” the boy said sheepishly.

The man snorted. “
Other
dad? I’m his
real
father. Now let’s go, Josh.”

“Except, Dad, I’ve got to change my clothes.”

Coming out of his agitated state, Josh’s father seemed to finally look at the boy, who still wore tights and ballet slippers. “Oh. Okay. Go ahead.”

He turned those keen blue eyes onto Casey once more as Josh ran off. “Don’t tell me you never noticed his last name is different from his mother’s.”

Oops
. Casey suddenly remembered that Josh’s mom and the man she’d seen her with at the dance recital introduced themselves as the Wentoffs, but the boy was registered as Josh Byrne. “I’m so sorry. Then you must be…”

“Drew Byrne.” He said it with the air of someone used to impressing people with his name.

Was she supposed to recognize him from somewhere? A lot of her students had wealthy, sometimes famous, parents. “Um, yes, of course. Exactly. I forgot about—”

“Forgot, huh? Guess all those pirouettes make you kind of dizzy.”

She wanted to belt him. “I was trying to protect your son from a stranger who came rudely stomping unannounced into the middle of my ballet class. Normally when a parent needs to contact their child during class they simply go to the desk and Lisa or someone else in charge will come to me.”

The self-important Mr. Byrne wasn’t even listening. He was gazing around at the dance academy’s humble waiting lobby that probably looked to him as if it were decorated by the Salvation Army. Which wasn’t far from the truth, since the worn green sofa and armchair came from her late grandmother’s cellar.

But Casey did not appreciate being treated like some irritating gnat. She gritted her teeth, fuming inside. “Mr. Byrne, I’m sure you wouldn’t want me barging into your office while you’re…”

Drew Byrne stepped so close her voice shrank to nothing. She could feel the heat coming off his diesel cut frame. His warm skin smelled of soap and sandalwood and something incredibly male. He was at least a head taller than Casey, and when he looked down, a lock of sun-streaked sand-colored hair fell across his brow. “If you’re dressed like that, Ms. Richardson, it might be fun.”

Uh-oh
. Maybe it was better being an overlooked gnat. She controlled the shiver in her body, but couldn’t stop the blush that flamed her cheeks. This was clearly a man who knew how to play a woman. “What I mean is next time you—”

“Won’t be a next time. Josh isn’t coming back.”

“What? Is his mother aware of this? She told me Josh loved his classes here. It’s good exercise for him. And he’s exceptionally talented.”

“I’m not often in the neighborhood to keep an eye on what’s going down with Josh, but there is no way I’ll let Heather or you turn my son into some prancing fruitcake.”

Good thing Josh came shuffling out of the dressing room or Casey might have indulged in the terribly unprofessional and bad for business move of giving a nasty piece of her mind to a student’s parent.

The boy tossed a shy half-smile at Casey. But Drew Byrne showed her his back. Without so much as a nod, he pushed open the door and led his son outside.

“How obnoxious,” Casey growled. But she couldn’t stop herself from sneaking to the side of the window and peering out.

It was a bright July morning and a gleaming white Escalade limo waited along the curb. The driver got out and held open the back door of the car. Josh hopped inside as if he knew the drill all too well. Drew Byrne gracefully folded his large frame into the back seat next to Josh and gestured to his driver.

As the car took off, Casey suddenly remembered she had a class full of students waiting for her. She rushed back into the studio, determined not to let this arrogant jerk ruin her day any more than the tsunami of bad news that came pouring out of the letter she’d received this morning. This academy was the only thing in her life that she’d ever done right. And she wasn’t about to see it go down the tubes.

***

They drove east through the North Fork toward the ferry. Drew relaxed into the Escalade’s soft leather seat and gazed out the window at the flattened runways of green earth that stretched across the horizon. Most people had no idea Long Island’s East End was so rural, a part of New York that more closely resembled New England, with farming hamlets and briny fishing villages.

For Drew Byrne, staring out at the acres of eye settling and nerve calming open space was as close as he ever got to being the slightest bit meditative. But he couldn’t deny there was something enchanting about the sunlight on this skinny strip of land that jutted over a hundred miles into the Atlantic.

Josh peered up at his father, his eyes wide with worry. “Dad? Did I hear you tell Miss Casey I can’t go back to her school?”

“You don’t need her. We can work out together at my gym. I’ll get you in better shape than some ballerina can.”

Josh turned away and rested his head against the window glass. Silence filled the space between them.

Drew watched his son, at first irritated. Then the dejected resignation in the slump of the boy’s narrow shoulders touched his heart. What was so wrong with his idea? This always happened. Every time Drew thought things were going along pretty well, Josh would bail on him. But he never knew how to fix it.

He rested his arm over the sulky boy’s shoulder and squeezed. “Hey, dude, you hungry? What say we knock down some burgers?”

Josh shrugged.

“We’ve got the whole Fourth of July weekend together. Figured we might get a jump on the day.”

The boy stared at the floor of the car and mumbled, “Weekends begin on Friday night.”

“Well, I was busy yesterday.”

“You said we’d go to see the new Harry Potter movie.”

Damn, he’d forgotten about that. Maybe because a kid flick was hardly the way he liked spending a Friday night. At thirty-two he still preferred to chill down from an intense week of business with some female assistance. And when it came to hooking up with delicious new playthings, Drew could compete with Manhattan’s best.