Because of Him: A Christian Romance (New Hope Falls Book 2)

by Kimberly Rae Jordan

  “Yoga?” Lisa asked.

  “No, not per se. My classes aren’t focused on meditation or anything like that, though I do play nice spa music as we stretch. My goal is to help build flexibility and also to help women strengthen their core. Being limber and strong in the core helps to prevent injuries.”

  “Huh. So no dancing?”

  “Oh, I do have dance classes, but they’re for kids, mostly. I knew that I wanted a place that was more than just dance, so I took a bunch of courses to learn about the muscles in our body and how to take care of them.”

  “So maybe you do have a place for someone like me.”

  “Women of all ages and shapes come to my classes. There’s probably only two of the adult classes you wouldn’t qualify for.”

  Lisa arched a brow. “What would those be?”

  “Those would be my pre and post-natal classes.”

  The other woman laughed. “Oh yes. I’m so far post-natal, I barely remember the natal part.”

  Cara couldn’t help but join in her laughter. “So anyway, aside from those two classes and the kids dance classes, you’re welcome at any of the others.”

  “Do you have a website or a Facebook page?”

  “Just a simple website with class descriptions, times, and prices. You can look it up with the studio name.”

  “I’ll do that,” Lisa assured her.

  A nearby door opened, and Cara turned to see Kieran walking toward them. He gave her a curious look as he smiled. “Hey there. Did you want to come on back?”

  “No. I gotta get back to the studio, but I wanted to bring this to you.” She held out the USB drive. “I wasn’t able to download just that portion of the video you wanted, and the whole day’s footage created a file that was too big to email, so I put it on this drive.”

  He took the drive from her, his fingers brushing against hers for a moment. “Thank you. I really appreciate you bringing this to me.”

  “No problem. Hope it solves the case.”

  The smile lines in his cheeks deepened as he laughed. “In my mind, it was already solved, but the people involved are disputing it.” He lifted the USB drive. “This will help settle it for all.”

  “Can I be there when you show them the footage?” Lisa asked, humor lacing her words.

  Kieran turned to her. “Well, of course. And I’ll leave it to you to set up a room for all of them to come in and see it.”

  “Oh, goodie.” Lisa rubbed her hands together. “Consider it done.”

  When Kieran looked back at her, Cara could see laughter dancing in his eyes. She found she liked that about him. It reminded her of the light-hearted moments she’d had with her dad before everything had gone so horribly wrong. She’d loved to make her dad laugh, to see his eyes dance the way Kieran’s were.

  She couldn’t help but think that in a different world, her dad might have liked Kieran. But sadly, being on opposite sides of the law made them natural enemies. She’d often wondered if her dad would make different decisions in his life, if he’d had the chance. In the end, he’d given up his freedom to ensure her safety, so maybe he would have.

  “Well, I’d better head back to the studio,” Cara said, feeling a need to get away from the direction her thoughts were headed, fueled by the closeness to Kieran.

  “Thanks again for dropping this by.”

  “You’re welcome.” She gave him a smile, then turned her attention to Lisa. “And if you ever feel like attending a class, you can just drop-in to try it out.”

  “I might take you up on that,” Lisa said. “Goodness knows I could probably use it.”

  After saying goodbye to the two of them, Cara left the station. That hadn’t gone as expected, she mused as she made her way down the sidewalk, her hands once again tucked into her pockets. So much for hoping that going to the station would give her control of their interaction.

  Well, she had been able to leave when she wanted, but in the meantime, she’d discovered one more thing that she found attractive about the man. She didn’t want that. Her goal was to put more distance between them, but that hadn’t really happened.

  Feeling a bit frustrated with herself and the situation, Cara made a quick decision and headed toward the door of the bakery. She wasn’t one to indulge too often in sugary drinks and treats, but she felt in definite need right then.

  “Hi Cara.” The woman behind the bakery counter greeted her with a smile.

  “Hello, Cecelia.” Cara returned her greeting then glanced down at the glass-covered shelves.

  “Looking for something in particular?”

  “Not really. Just wanted something…sweet.”

  “We have fresh cinnamon buns or brownies. But I’m partial to the macarons.”

  “Oh, those sound good,” Cara said as she bent to look at the flavor labels.

  Though she probably should only have gotten a couple, she ended up getting a dozen of them, plus a mocha latte. She told herself she was helping to support the local businesses. Anything to justify the huge number of calories she was planning to ingest.

  After paying, she said goodbye to Cecelia and made her way back to the studio, sipping on her latte. Once inside, she climbed the stairs to her apartment and set her sweet treats on the table by the large front windows. After removing her boots and hanging up her jacket, she settled herself in a comfortable chair at the table.

  Staring out the window, she watched the traffic on Main Street. She took small sips of her latte as she rested her elbows on the table. A part of her really wanted to write about everything that was going on with Kieran in the journal she was working on for her dad. However, she wasn’t sure that would be a good idea. In spite of everything, she knew her dad wanted her to find a life partner. To find a love like the one he’d shared with her mom. However, she had a feeling he’d prefer it not be with a law enforcement officer.

  Instead, she picked up the pen and began to describe in as much detail as she could the beauty of the fall season, the delicious taste of the latte, her visit to the bakery, and the delicate flavors of the macarons she’d picked up. She wrote about the classes she’d had taught so far that week, then gave her dad some details about the dances she was creating for the Christmas recital. As she wrote, she sipped on her drink and ate a few of the macarons.

  When the alarm on her phone beeped, she got up and went to get changed. She had a class at four o’clock that included girls ages eight to ten. It was probably her favorite age group to teach because they had more control of their bodies than the younger girls did, and most of them had an appreciation for ballet and a desire to improve.

  Those ages were also a time in her life she remembered quite clearly. In fact, some of her best childhood memories came from those years. That was the period of her life before she realized that her parents weren’t married and that her father was a mafia boss. Everything had seemed so much simpler then. Ballet had still been fun. Her mom had been her best friend. Her papa doted on her whenever he came home.

  She’d had no idea about how complicated her world actually was. That knowledge had come later, and it had left her confused and angry. She was glad that she’d moved past her anger so that she and her mother had become close again in the years before her mom’s death. It would have devastated her to lose either of her parents while she’d still been so angry.

  After Cara had dressed in a black leotard, tights, and a gauzy wrap skirt that ended just above her knees, she went to her mirror and quickly put her hair up in the bun she wore when teaching. The only jewelry she wore was a gold necklace with three small diamond encrusted interlocking hearts that her dad had bought for her after her mother’s death.

  Finally, she touched up the foundation she always wore on the inside of her wrists. When she was satisfied that it covered the skin there, she put on her satin ballet slippers then headed downstairs to the studio.

  With a little over an hour to go until the first students arrived, Cara pulled up a YouTube video on her phon
e. One of the things she missed from her time with the ballet company was the daily class. Thankfully, there were several ballet companies who participated in World Ballet Day each year by streaming their company class, among other things. It meant she could warm up using a video from different companies like The Royal Ballet in London or The Australian Ballet in Melbourne.

  A few times a week, usually before her classes with the older girls, Cara followed along with different videos. It was easy to get lost in the memory of the times she’d attended the daily classes at her own company. The live piano accompaniment. The class teacher’s instruction guiding the class through positions and movements.

  Plié. Tendu. Soutenu. Glissade. All terms that were as familiar to her as breathing. Though the instructions from the teacher might not make sense to people outside the ballet world, they were perfectly clear to her, allowing her to move through the class without hesitation.

  Some days, she even put on her pointe shoes, though that wasn’t as frequent since wearing them was not as comfortable as it had once been. The callouses she’d built up while wearing the pointe shoes on an almost daily basis weren’t as thick as they’d once been, plus the muscles required for dancing en pointe weren’t as strong as when she’d worked with the ballet company.

  Still, she loved stepping back into that world, even if it was by way of a YouTube video, and when her hour was up, she felt limber and in the right mindset to teach her class.

  She’d barely unlocked the door when the first of her students arrived with her mother. School had ended at three-thirty, so most the girls came directly from school. It sometimes meant that they had a little extra energy to burn, but the four o’clock time seemed to be what worked best for the moms, so Cara accommodated them.

  “Hi, Miss Cara,” a little girl with dark hair and bright blue eyes called out excitedly as she walked in, holding her mom’s hand.

  Cara smiled at her, then greeted her mother. She repeated the greeting several more times until all the girls had arrived. Cara allowed the mothers to sit in on the class as long as they didn’t interrupt. So far, they’d all been really good about just watching and keeping conversation to a minimum.

  Once everyone was in the mirrored room, Cara had the girls line up at the barre and began to have them go through their warm-up exercises—a less intense version of how she’d warmed up earlier. Music played softly in the background as they followed her instructions. She walked up and down the line, correcting posture or positioning, and offering words of encouragement.

  The class was only an hour in length, and it went by quite quickly as she began to teach them the choreography for the Christmas recital. The girls were so excited about it, and their mothers appeared to be excited as well. Cara was happy to see that as it made her job easier.

  When the class was over, the girls ran to their mothers. As one mom spun her daughter around, dancing with her, a bolt of grief stabbed Cara in the heart, robbing her of breath for a moment. Her hand went to her necklace, pressing it into her skin as she wrapped her other hand around her wrist.

  On trembling legs, she made her way over to where she’d left her phone after she’d pulled up the music she’d needed for the class. She took several deep breaths and willed away the emotion that was threatening to engulf her as she tried to compose herself to say goodbye to the class. Hearing voices nearing where she stood, she forced a smile and turned to face them.

  It didn’t take long for the studio to empty out, and then she was alone with her thoughts. Alone with her grief and struggling to breathe past the tightness in her chest.

  She hated how, even after all these years, the grief could still catch her off-guard. She knew part of this was the fear that her father was facing his final days, and the memory of loss had risen up within her once again.

  Without even realizing it, her steps took her back into the studio. She stared down at her phone for a moment before pulling up the one song that allowed her to pour out all her emotions. To purge the grief in the only way she knew how so that she could breathe again.

  She set the phone down and moved to the center of the room. Head bent, she let the opening chords of Without You wash over her, then as Mariah Carey’s voice came through the speakers hidden in the room, surrounding her with music, Cara let go. She moved her body, letting her emotions and her tears push up through her movements to meet the music. To meet it then draw it into herself.

  The song had spoken to her in the days following her mother’s death when she hadn’t known how she’d be able to go on without her. She had managed it, but now she was facing another loss, one that would cut as deeply as her mother’s death had. And then she would well and truly be alone.

  As the last strains of the song faded away, Cara sank to her knees. Wrapping her arms across her waist, she leaned forward. Her breaths came in harsh, ragged inhales and exhales. When the pain in her chest eased enough that she could take a deep breath, she straightened and began to rub frantically at the foundation on the inside of her wrists.

  Finally, enough had been rubbed away that she could see what she was searching for. On each wrist, she had the words I love you tattooed in black ink. The words on her left wrist were in her father’s handwriting, and on her right, they were in her mother’s.

  She didn’t hide the tattoos because she was ashamed of them, but she didn’t feel the need to share them with the world. Their meaning was for her and her alone. Staring at them, she was reminded of all the things her parents had wanted for her. And they would never have wanted her to stop living her life because they weren’t around anymore.

  No, after all they’d done for her, she owed them a life lived well. She may have constraints on what she could do, but what she couldn’t do was to allow grief to stop her from living.

  Cara pressed her wrists to her cheek as she whispered, “I love you, too.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  As he stared at the USB on his desk, Kieran acknowledged that he was looking for any excuse to go see Cara again.

  He’d heard her tell Lisa about the studio’s website, and when he’d gotten back to his desk, he’d looked it up and noticed that she had a class at four but then nothing else scheduled afterward. Deciding it would be the perfect time to return the USB drive since he’d transferred the video file over to his computer already, he’d left the station a little before five after telling Lisa he wouldn’t be back.

  As he walked down the sidewalk, he saw the students and their mothers leaving the studio. He stopped to talk to the wife of one of the guys who worked at the station, then he approached the studio. He thought maybe the door would be locked, but it opened when he pulled on the handle, so he took that as a sign.

  Cara wasn’t in the waiting area, and he was just about to call out her name when he heard music start playing. He hesitated for a couple of moments then followed the sound to the door of the studio.

  Kieran didn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t to have his heart broken by the grief that poured out of Cara as she danced. He wasn’t prepared to witness such grace and beauty in the midst of such heartrending passion.

  He wanted to go to her and gather her into his arms. Her obvious pain and the song she danced to reached deep into his heart and touched him at the very core of his being. He knew in that moment that she’d suffered loss the way he’d suffered loss.

  A loss that had shattered her heart the way his had been shattered, and the pieces hadn’t yet all been fitted back into their rightful places. He didn’t know what had shattered her, but just knowing that something had, made him want to protect her, to make sure that nothing hurt her that way again.

  As the song had come to an end, he backed away from the doorway as quietly as he could, then after a brief hesitation he left the studio. But leaving didn’t still the turbulent emotions within him.

  “Chief? You okay?”

  Kieran looked up and saw one of his men standing a few feet away, concern on his face. No doubt, he’d b
een trying to figure out why his boss was standing on the sidewalk, staring down at the concrete surface.

  “Yeah. I’m fine.” Kieran gave him a smile that felt weak but that he hoped didn’t appear that way. “Just heading home.”

  The man’s brow furrowed, but he didn’t comment on the fact that Kieran’s Jeep was parked in front of the station a block away. “See you tomorrow.”

  “Yep. Have a good evening.”

  After the man had walked away, Kieran looked in the direction of the station and his vehicle, but he found he wasn’t ready to go home just yet. Instead, he decided to go to Norma’s to get some dinner. Mary was joining his mom for supper that night, so he was on his own. Rather than cook for himself—and then have to clean up afterward—he decided to let someone else take care of feeding him.

  Norma greeted him with a welcoming smile when he walked in. Thankfully, the restaurant wasn’t too busy, so he was able to sit in a booth along the front where he had a clear view of Main Street.

  “Do you ever take a break from watching the town,” Norma asked as she handed him a menu.

  “Kinda hard to get a break when I’m still in town.” Kieran wasn’t going to admit that he was actually keeping an eye on a particular part of town that day.

  Norma patted his shoulder. “Well, I’ll leave ya to it.”

  Missy appeared to take his order, placing a glass of water in front of him. “Meatloaf and mashed for you?”

  “You know it. Heaven forbid, I’m anything but predictable.”

  “Brace yourself,” she said with a grin. “Mom’s looking to add a few more items to the menu.”

  “Oh really? Is she looking for ideas?”

  Missy shrugged. “Not sure, but you can always try.”

  “Well, if she needs a taste-tester, I volunteer.”

  “I’ll pass that on to her, but in the meantime, I’ll get your meatloaf.”

  Kieran looked out toward the studio, but there was no sign of movement in or out of the building. The windows of the second floor gleamed in such a way that he couldn’t see through them, and he doubted that with all the security Cara had, that she would have installed windows that gave the outside world a glimpse into her home.