Noah parked the car behind the historic mansion and shut off the engine. The twelve-room Victorian home was one of the oldest in Dover. His great-great-grandparents had founded Dover, then known as Junction City, in the mid-1800s. After the great fire that destroyed many of the wooden structures, the town was rebuilt and renamed Do Over, which had evolved into Dover. The town’s most prominent citizens built their homes to the east of town, along Peace Street. Only half of the dozen original opulent dwellings remained. His grandmother refused to live anywhere else, despite the home being too large for her to care for and having more room than one woman needed.
Chloe darted ahead of him onto the broad back porch and into the house. Gram was one of the reasons he’d come home to Dover. He’d been fourteen when his dad’s small plane had crashed, killing him and Noah’s mother. He’d come here to live with Gram and Gramps. Now that Gram was alone and getting older, he’d moved in to help her out and give his daughter a chance to know her family.
Dover would hopefully provide a new beginning for him and Chloe. Dissatisfied with the hectic pace of life in San Francisco, he’d resigned from the large engineering firm he’d worked for and decided to start his own structural engineering company in Dover. His hometown would also be a more conservative place to raise Chloe, who was growing up too quickly for his liking.
His grandmother, Evelyn Carlisle, was in the kitchen listening to Chloe recount her day. He noticed Gram was using her cane today—a sign her arthritis was flaring up again.
“I wish I could be like her.” Chloe sighed loudly, a dreamy look on her face.
“Like who?”
“Miss Beth.”
Noah shrugged out of his coat and draped it over the back of the chair. “No. You don’t.” He turned and saw a scowl on his gram’s face. He probably shouldn’t have said that, but he didn’t want his daughter’s head filled with notions of chasing fame.
“Yes, I do. She’s beautiful. I wish I could see her dance. I’ve only seen pictures.”
“I understand she is quite amazing. A very successful ballerina.” Gram raised her eyebrows. “She and your father were close friends in high school.”
Chloe grabbed his arm. “Really? Are you serious? You knew her? Did you see her dance? Was she gorgeous? Did she float like a dandelion puff?” Chloe spread her arms and twirled around the kitchen, bumping into the island.
“I never saw her dance.” Strange how he’d never realized that until now. He’d seen her in her studio warming up, but he’d never actually attended a performance. They’d been best friends, had shared everything, but at eighteen the thought of going to a ballet hadn’t been an option, even for a nerd like he’d been.
Chloe’s eyes widened. “I’m sure I could find videos of her on the internet. Can I look? Please?”
Refusal was on the tip of his tongue, but the pointed look from his gram told him to give in. She wasn’t above pointing out his parenting shortcomings. He really needed his own place, but he couldn’t leave her alone in this big house. “You can use my tablet, but sit here at the kitchen table to search.”
Chloe scooped up the device and started tapping the screen.
Gram put the finishing touches on the sandwiches she was preparing and handed him the plate. He plucked a stem of grapes from the fruit bowl and grabbed a couple of cookies from the jar before taking a seat at the island.
“I wondered how long it would take you to run into Beth again. She’s been home a while now.”
“How do you know that?”
“Francie told me.”
He’d forgotten that his gram and Beth’s mom were good friends. But then, he’d forgotten a lot about this place. He’d only been back in town a couple of months himself. “I ran into her yesterday.”
Gram set her own plate of food on the counter. “Hmm. That explains why you came home hissing like a snared alligator.”
“I did not.”
Gram shrugged. “How does she look? Has she changed much?”
“She’s too thin. But I guess she has to be. Her hair is shorter.” Softer looking, and it framed her face in long curvy strands that caressed her cheeks and made him want to brush them aside and feel the silky softness. “But otherwise she hasn’t changed.” She still had the sweet, childlike smile that made him want to hug her. Her hazel eyes, with their sooty lashes, were still as beguiling as ever, though they held a darker shade to them now. Maturity? Or sadness?
“Chloe seems taken with her.”
“Not for long. Beth told me herself that as soon as she’s recovered she’s going back to the ballet.”
Gram studied him a long moment. “I don’t think that’s going to happen. Francie told me that her injury was career-ending. She’ll never dance professionally as a ballerina again. She’s facing an uncertain future.”
The bite of sandwich stuck in Noah’s throat. No. Gram had to be wrong. “Are you sure? She looked fine to me.” More than fine. He shut down that thought.
“That fall she took destroyed her knee, and then there were complications.”
“What fall?”
“Noah, don’t you know what happened?”
He didn’t have a clue. He’d made it a point not to keep track of her successes. “I knew she’d been injured, but that’s all.”
“Oh, it was a terrible thing. She was doing one of those big leaps and landed wrong and tore her ACL. Her mother thinks Beth is in denial over her situation. It’s very sad. That child was born to dance.”
That was one thing Noah could not deny. “Yes. She was.” The thought of Beth never dancing again left an unfamiliar chill in his chest. As much as he resented her passion for the dance, and the way she’d shut out everyone, he knew how much it meant to her. It had shaped her entire life. How would she cope without it? What was she going to do now?
“Daddy, I found some videos. Can I watch them?”
Reluctantly, he nodded. Chloe sat beside him, and he couldn’t resist glancing at the tablet as she scrolled through the selection of clips featuring Bethany Montgomery. There were dozens. “Pick three. That’s all.”
Chloe clicked on the one labeled Aurora’s Act 3 Variation in The Sleeping Beauty. He had no idea what that meant, but he couldn’t force himself to look away. Beth appeared in a short tutu jutting out from her tiny waist. The puffy sleeves of her costume highlighted the graceful curves of her neck and shoulders. She rose on her toes, her arms floating gracefully as she began to dance with quick, precise steps. Part of him wanted to watch. To see her passion in action. But then reality shoved its way into his thoughts. There was only room for one love in her life, and it hadn’t been him. That’s what he had to remember.
Pushing back from the table, he carried his plate to the sink, then headed
