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The Ballerina's Stand
Angel Smits
Love reaches far beyond wordsWhen she was growing up, a deaf child in foster care, dancing gave Lauren Ramsey a sense of belonging. Now she's a prima ballerina with her own dance studio; everything's finally going right. And then lawyer Jason Hawkins turns up and drops a bombshell: Lauren's unknown father has left her a fortune. Well, Jason can take that money and shove it. Except…he can't. Once he sees Lauren dancing, he can't stay away…
Love reaches far beyond words
When she was growing up, a deaf child in foster care, dancing gave Lauren Ramsey a sense of belonging. Now she’s a prima ballerina with her own dance studio; everything’s finally going right. And then lawyer Jason Hawkins turns up and drops a bombshell: Lauren’s unknown father has left her a fortune. Well, Jason can take that money and shove it. Except...he can’t. Once he sees Lauren dancing, he can’t stay away...
Lauren had never liked surprises.
Even good ones, she thought, though there were few to reference.
Jason drove toward Glendale. Not too far from home, but not a part of town she was familiar with. The sights intrigued her, and she felt a sense of anticipation.
Finally, Jason pulled into a large parking lot filled with pickup trucks. The neon sign on the roof of the bar shone bright orange, casting a glow over everything.
Lauren had never been to any place like this, and her anticipation threatened to morph into anxiety. Jason squeezed her hand and gave her another of those smiles.
“Come on,” he said, climbing out and coming around to her side of the car. As they walked across the parking lot, he took her hand again, and she let him. It seemed...right.
His hand was strong, warm and callused, and any uncertainties she’d had fled. She let herself smile back at him and relaxed for the first time that night.
Dear Reader (#ulink_2c304fe8-ad43-522f-97cb-6b818d464328),
As a kid, I was always fascinated with people whose lives were different from mine. I read any biography I could get my hands on. Helen Keller and Annie Sullivan were two people I always admired.
A couple years ago, I was given the opportunity to take sign language classes at work and, through that class, I met someone who left a lasting impression. The instructor for those classes made me think and work hard to learn this new language. She taught us more than the signs, she also showed us a whole new fascinating culture.
As always in new situations, my brain came up with ideas for characters, and a story that scared me enough to make me question my ability as a writer and my sanity. I wanted to show this new culture I’d come to respect and like. This story touched my heart, but proved to be the hardest one I’ve ever taken on.
I hope you’ll enjoy getting more acquainted with the third brother in the Hawkins family, Jason, and the woman who steals his heart, Lauren Ramsey. I also hope to share a respect and understanding of the challenges the hearing-impaired face. Any inaccuracies are purely things I still have to learn in this lifelong journey.
Angel Smits
The Ballerina’s Stand
Angel Smits
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ANGEL SMITS lives in Colorado with her husband, daughter and puppy. Winning the Romance Writers of America’s Golden Heart® Award was the highlight of her writing career, until her first Harlequin book hit the shelves. Her social work background inspires her characters while improv writing allows her to torture them. It’s a rough job, but someone’s got to do it.
This book is dedicated to some very amazing people. My critique partners, Pam McCutcheon, Karen Fox and Jodi Anderson, who slogged through this with me. And my husband, Ron, who had to listen to me all the way through. But mostly to Lauraan, who showed me what a strong person can do in this world. Thank you all.
Contents
COVER (#u9ace27d9-5272-5ed1-a507-b2c271e10b14)
BACK COVER TEXT (#u1f0b9515-c65a-5e91-bcc0-6ac0e75aada9)
INTRODUCTION (#u6475cd3a-090e-5fc9-a287-616218aaf74b)
Dear Reader (#u82c42387-a0de-5318-ad84-394cb79cac45)
TITLE PAGE (#u0a7a4a1b-48d4-54ae-8eb9-33585c15ec82)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR (#uf2eecc0e-ba7e-51bd-8723-9cafa2bf9225)
DEDICATION (#ua50eafb4-64f5-5449-b2c6-64ac813a29cc)
CHAPTER ONE (#u400a7a96-09f5-5f0d-8510-66d802db9982)
CHAPTER TWO (#u6f19048a-5099-5410-9c83-c35bc3d07a6d)
CHAPTER THREE (#u8ecb1711-237a-56d5-a826-6c7f1216ba51)
CHAPTER FOUR (#u4f94fe9d-4d39-5501-9b76-57158ef76456)
CHAPTER FIVE (#ue07b8002-54ce-52d7-b92f-27dfac96c268)
CHAPTER SIX (#u7b608f06-3ceb-504b-80c9-9d066a412dfd)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE (#litres_trial_promo)
EXTRACT (#litres_trial_promo)
COPYRIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_1ee86056-e8a7-56fc-85ba-36078406b903)
APPARENTLY, MOST OF Jason Hawkins’s siblings had been bitten by the love bug. Standing here in the basement of the church, listening to a local country band, a warm beer in hand, Jason simply watched and shook his head.
His younger brother, DJ, looked as handsome and happy as ever in a black tuxedo. Tammie, the newest addition to the Hawkins clan, glowed in her lacy confection of a wedding dress as DJ spun her around the dance floor.
Those two didn’t even seem to notice there was anyone else in the room—except their son, Tyler, who, at the age of nine, took his duty as best man very seriously. He’d banged a spoon on the drinking glasses so many times, to get his parents to kiss, that Jason was getting a headache.
Wyatt and Emily, Jason’s older brother and his fiancée, were busy gathering all the silverware to get it to the church ladies in the kitchen and out of Tyler’s reach.
Jason considered helping, but they were having entirely too much fun doing it together.
One of his younger sisters, Mandy, sat nearby, her little one, Lucas, asleep in her arms. She was smiling and swaying to the song’s beat as if she wished she were out on the dance floor.
Not like she hadn’t been out there plenty. Lane, Mandy’s boyfriend, and Lucas’s father, had done his due diligence. Now the poor guy was running to get drinks for them at the bar. Mandy and Lane hadn’t announced anything official about their relationship yet, but the entire time Jason had been back home, Mandy had stayed at Lane’s place. The man didn’t look one bit put out about it, either.
Jason figured he’d have yet another wedding to attend soon. He just wasn’t sure whose first. Wyatt’s or Mandy’s?
“I don’t see you taking anyone out for a spin, brother dear.” His youngest sister, Tara, sidled up to him.
He gave her his best outraged glare. “I danced with Addie, and you.”
“Obligatory dances with your sisters don’t count.” They both watched Addie glide by on the arm of one of the ranch hands. Paulo, if he remembered correctly. Jason couldn’t keep all the guys straight. He only came back to the ranch a couple times a year and the staff always changed. Chet the ranch foreman, and his wife, Juanita the cook, were the only constants. They, too, were out on the dance floor.
Jason grinned. He’d always enjoyed Tara the most of his siblings. Logical and straightforward, she was the most like him. If he could say anyone in this family was like him.
Otherwise, if it weren’t for the physical family resemblance, he’d think he was adopted. Wyatt was a rancher. DJ a soldier, although medically retired now, who worked with Wyatt on the ranch. Addie taught school. And Mandy was a stay-at-home mom, working in the ranch office part-time and helping Lane with the Hot Shot fire crew he worked on. All hands-on, active, people.
Jason looked at Tara, who was nursing a beer of her own. Even she liked to get her hands dirty, working with food as a chef. “What about you, sis? Anyone on your horizon?”
“No! And don’t jinx it. I’m too busy. I have a restaurant to open, remember, oh mighty lawyer-from-hell with all the paperwork?”
He laughed. She’d grumbled at all the contracts, signatures and forms he’d had her fill out. But she’d be much better off in the long run—and protected. He’d made sure of that.
Even she fit in better here than he did. She wanted to settle in Texas. Near enough to the ranch and family, but far enough away to have her independence.
He understood that last point—it’s why he’d moved to California. He glanced around at the simple church basement, contrasting it with his usual surroundings—his office and his Los Angeles apartment.
Contemporary was more his style. Chrome and clean. Linear.
Addie flopped down in the chair next to him. “Okay, Tara, your turn.” She panted, giving her sister a pointed look.
“I’m not dancing with Paulo again,” Tara said as softly as she could and still be heard. “The man’s not light on his feet, or mine.”
“Well, I’m not, either. Jason, it’s your brotherly duty to protect us from cowboys with big clumsy feet, right?”
“How did I get involved in this?” He looked from sister to sister. “I’m sure as hell not dancing with him.” Their laughter, while warm and welcome, didn’t let him off the hook, and he knew it.
He was the last unclaimed male over eighteen in this family. He glanced at his watch. Didn’t he have a flight to catch?
Damn. Not for twenty-four more hours.
Three of those hours later, the wedding reception finally wound down. Jason made sure he was nowhere around for the bouquet toss by heading to the ranch house for shelter. He had no intention of being anyone’s target when they caught the thing, nor for the garter throw. Let a ranch hand or some local hang the piece of silk from the rearview mirror of their truck.
“So, this is where you snuck off to.” Tara’s voice came through the screen door before she opened it and stepped into Wyatt’s big homey kitchen.
“With you right behind me,” he told his little—amend that—younger sister.
“You making coffee?” She pointedly glanced at the familiar green canisters behind him that had come from Mom’s house. “’Cause there’s a whole plate of Addie’s cookies that need a cup of warmth to wash them down.”
“Thinking about it.” He looked at the heaping plate, amazed there were still some left.
“Well, quit thinking and get it done.”
He laughed and set to work. Tara sat in the big captain’s chair at the head of the table, the soft blue fabric of her bridesmaid’s dress rustled loudly. Her high heels thunked to the floor.
“You realize this is just the first one, don’t you?” He sat in the next seat.
“Yes. Lord. Are we going to survive six of these?”
“Hey, at least one of them will be yours.” He grinned at her.
She groaned as she crossed her arms on the tabletop and rested her head on her forearms. “Not any time soon, I hope.”
The coffeemaker gave off a last gasping sputter. Jason rose to get them each a cup.
They’d just taken a sip of the rich brew when more footsteps sounded on the walk outside. “You’ll have to make another pot,” Tara predicted. “Should we hide the cookies?” She took a big bite of the one in her hand.
Jason laughed, snagging one more for himself as the rest of the family came through the screen door. Addie made the best cookies and the comfort they gave wasn’t something any of them would give up.
Wyatt entered the kitchen and made his way to the stairs, a sound-asleep Tyler draped over his shoulder. The boy would be staying here while DJ and Tammie went to South Padre Island for their honeymoon. Addie and Emily settled around the table with the rest of them.
Jason served the last of the pot and made the second. The decibel level in the room rose, though that didn’t seem to faze baby Lucas. He was sacked out in a swing in the middle of everything.
Jason leaned against the counter, watching and listening to the big rambunctious family. It felt good to be home. Wyatt soon joined him as they both sipped their coffee.
“You’re really going to go through this insanity yourself?” Jason asked Wyatt. The engagement ring on Emily’s hand still sparkled with the newness of gold and diamond.
“In time,” was all Wyatt said. It had taken him forever to propose, so Jason figured the wedding would take just as long. Jason was fine with that.
A knock at the door surprised them all, and Wyatt went to answer. A cowboy, not one of Wyatt’s men, stood there. “Come on in, John.” Wyatt pushed the screen farther open and the tall, lanky man stepped inside. He hastily yanked the Stetson off his head and nodded toward the room’s inhabitants.
“What can I do for you?” Wyatt lifted a cup, silently offering the man some coffee.
