CHAPTER 8

“Take more chances. Dance more dances.”

Wednesday Night

“Good class, ladies!” Shannon called out to her country line dancing class. “I fully expect to hear that all of you have gone out line dancing before I see you next.”

Emily, her cute twenty-two-year-old student, walked up to her. “Travis is going to take me tomorrow night.”

“Good luck. Maybe you’ll be teaching him a thing or two.”

“Maybe! We’ll see.” Throwing on her fuzzy North Face jacket, she waved. “Have a good night.”

“You too.”

After saying goodbye to the rest of the ladies, Shannon picked up a stray water bottle that someone had left. Then, just as she was about to turn off the lights, she caught sight of herself in the mirror.

Then she stopped and really looked.

Memories came flooding back. Being a little girl and standing so carefully at the barre. Later, wearing out ballet shoes. Then toe shoes. Then deciding to switch to ballroom dancing in an effort to save her feet. Hours of learning how to do all kinds of dances that she’d thought were boring as a teenager but whose complexity she had learned to appreciate in her early twenties.

But it had all started with one class and looking into the mirror. Before she could stop herself, she took off her shoes and did a pirouette. Then another one. Then another. Muscles flared to life as they remembered what to do, almost of their own volition.

The movement felt good. She began doing part of an old recital piece she hadn’t thought about in over a decade. Laughing when it became obvious that she wasn’t nearly as strong or as flexible as she used to be. But she wasn’t nearly as bad as she sometimes thought she was. She did another turn, then an extension, and finally did a little leap.

“Hey.”

She skittered to a stop and looked at the doorway. “Hey Traci. Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I was upstairs. What were you doing?”

Remembering. “Oh, nothing.”

“It looked like something.” She tilted her head to one side. “You looked like a ballerina in a blue dress.”

Shannon grinned. “That sounds like it should be either a song or a painting.”

“Or my sister.” Traci smiled, walking closer. “You know, I’ve watched you teach your students from time to time, but I’ve never seen you dance like that. You were a ballerina?”

That made her smile. “Well, I used to take ballet.”

“For a long time?”

“Yeah. For years and years.” She didn’t like bringing it up, because she knew all those dance lessons had been expensive and time consuming. Traci hadn’t had access to the money for such things or even anyone to really care enough about her to give up their time to take her.

But seeing Traci’s look of interest, she knew she simply couldn’t shrug it off. Haltingly, she said, “I started taking ballet and tumbling classes when I was four.”

“You were only four years old?”

Smiling at how incredulous she sounded, Shannon explained. “My mom said that I was always flitting around the rooms, climbing on things, singing. She said she had to put me in something or I would drive her to drink. I loved it.”

“Can you do handsprings and stuff?”

“Not really. I quickly realized that I didn’t like gymnastics but I loved to dance. By the time I was eight, I was taking ballet, tap, and jazz classes.”

“Three of them?”

“They started out just an hour class three times a week, then I dropped jazz and just did ballet and tap. And then I moved to a better dance academy and started competing.”

“Whoa. You were serious.”

Shannon nodded. She paused, not knowing whether to continue or not, but Traci motioned with her hand. “Around the time I was seventeen, a senior in high school, I started having some problems with my feet and some of my thigh muscles. Because the thought of not dancing made me so upset, I gave ballroom dancing a try when the physical therapist suggested it.”

“And you became just as focused on that.”

“Yeah. I don’t seem to be able to do anything halfway.”

“Thank goodness for that, huh?”

Shannon smiled then looked at Traci a little more closely. There was something more there than just a cute comment. “What do you mean?”

“What if you hadn’t tried so hard to discover your past after that DNA test? What if you hadn’t reached out to Kimber and me again and again?”

“We wouldn’t all be living together. Or maybe we would. I don’t think I’m the only sister who is determined.”

“I’d like to think I would have done as much for you two, but I don’t know.”

Well, there was honesty. “Traci, I do. I think you’re doing yourself a disservice. You are as determined as I am.”

She looked embarrassed. “Anyway, I’m really glad that you were in here dancing. You’ve been doing so much for all of us and this business, I haven’t seen you do much for yourself.”

Was this what she did for herself? The thought caught her off guard. Did she still love dance and not just teaching other people to enjoy it? She made a mental note to consider that some more later.

“Are you ready to go upstairs?”

“Actually, I came down to see if you wanted to go grab something to eat at Paxton’s. There’s nothing upstairs.”

“Sure. What about Kimber?”

“She’s in sweats and eating a pint of some kind of diet ice cream.”

“Is she okay?” Shannon asked as she started turning off lights.

“I think so. I asked if she wanted to go out, but she said that she was all into some Netflix show.”

“Gotcha.” She considered going upstairs to put on a pair of jeans, but it sounded like too much trouble. Instead, she slipped on her long eggplant-purple wool coat and picked up her purse. “Let’s go grab a burger.”

* * *

When they got to Paxton’s, it was just as crowded as ever. Luckily, though, they found two seats at the bar. Shannon noticed that Traci was receiving more than one double-take. She wondered if it was because of her looks or the fact that she was the new cop in town.

After they ordered a pair of drinks and two burgers with fries, she brought up the new job. “So, how are you liking small-town police work?”

Traci chuckled. “It’s good. I’m still trying to figure out who are the movers and shakers in the department.”

“It’s not the sergeant and lieutenant?” She didn’t know much about police stations, but they seemed like the logical people.

Traci thanked the bartender when she delivered their drinks then answered. “Oh, they count, but it’s just like any other office. There are the gossips, the negative influences, the people who make everything easier. It’s better to just keep your head down, you know?”

Shannon took a sip of her chardonnay. “How are things going with Dylan?”

Traci smiled. “I wondered when you were going to ask me about him.”

“What? It’s a legitimate question.” She was also probably doing a poor job of acting like she wasn’t thinking of Dylan at least two times a day.

She took a sip of her draft. “Sure it is.”

But Shannon noticed that Traci still didn’t answer her question. “If you don’t want me asking about work, just let me know.”

“I don’t mind talking about work. But I’m not sure if you are really all that interested in learning about the traffic stops I did yesterday.”

“All I wanted to know is if y’all were getting along.”

“Sorry. I know I’ve been teasing you. We are. He’s a good guy, decent. He’s fair, too. Some guys are still living in the eighties and pretending that I’m only there to fill a quota. Dylan, though, he acts like he’s glad I have his back.”

“Speaking of your record, he said that you were kind of a big deal back in Cleveland.”

“I wasn’t.” She looked away. “I just did my job.”

“He said you received some commendations. Were you upset to leave?”

“I didn’t lie, Shannon. I really am happy to get out of there.” Shadows filled her eyes. “My job in the city . . . well, it was hard. I dealt with a lot of folks who didn’t have much to lose. Some days I wondered if they were going to get so desperate that I would become just another one of their losses.”

That sounded terrifying. “What happened? What did you have to do?”

Traci shook her head. “Nope. We’re not going there. Not tonight.”

“I’m tough. You can tell me anything.”

“I’ll remember you said that.” Just as she was taking another sip of her beer, she sighed. “And, speak of the devil, here he is.” She raised a hand. “Hey, partner.”

Shannon turned to see Dylan approaching. He was wearing what she was beginning to think of as his usual uniform. Snug, faded jeans, a long-sleeved T-shirt that was also well fitted, and boots. His hair looked like he’d run his hands through it a dozen times in the last hour.

He also looked as confident as ever.

Shannon’s smile faltered when she realized he wasn’t alone. A very pretty blonde was walking by his side.

“Hey, Trace. And Shannon, too.” He smiled warmly. “Hey, I’ve got someone for you to meet. We just got a table. Do you want to join us?”

“Sure,” Traci said.

As they stood up to move to the empty table Dylan had pointed out, Shannon felt her stomach turn to knots.

Maybe this was a mistake. Dylan’s date didn’t look very happy to see them. Not at all.