Teri Wilson - Alaskan Homecoming

“Lou.” There it was again. Lou. Seated in the chair beside him, Posy aimed a smile across the desk toward Pastor McNeil. “It seems there’s been some sort of misunderstanding.”

The understatement of the century.

Liam leaned forward in his chair. “Posy says she’s here to teach ballet.”

“Posy?” Pastor McNeil’s face went blank for a moment. “Oh, you mean Miss Sutton. Josephine.”

“Josephine?” Liam blinked. Had he gone mad and forgotten everyone’s name all of a sudden? Pastor McNeil was now Lou, and Posy had morphed into someone named Josephine?

“That’s me.” Posy smiled innocently, as if up and changing one’s name was an everyday occurrence.

Liam stared at her. “Since when?”

“Since I left Alaska. I guess you could say it’s my stage name, and it just sort of stuck.” She shrugged, but the implied nonchalance of the gesture was belied by a barely discernible tremor in her hands, knotted in her lap. Nerves. She’d always been good at hiding them.

And Liam had always been good at seeing the parts of her that others missed. Apparently some things, unlike names, never changed.

Did she really expect him to call her Josephine now? He wasn’t sure he could do that. It would probably be better for everyone involved if Josephine, whoever she was, danced back to San Francisco.

He directed his attention back to his boss. “ Josephine says she’s here to teach ballet.”

The senior pastor’s gaze flitted back and forth between the two of them before landing on Liam. “That’s right.”

Liam shook his head. Maybe if he shook it hard enough, he could undo whatever was happening. “I don’t understand.”

“You indicated you needed help with the after-school program, did you not?” Pastor McNeil eyed him over the top of his glasses.

“Yes, I did.” But I said absolutely nothing about ballet.

Liam’s boss shrugged. “You’ve got the boys busy with the competitive snowballing team, right?”

At the mention of the word snowball , Sundog lifted his head, ears pricked forward at attention.

“Competitive snowballing?” Posy slid her gaze toward Liam. “Seriously? That’s a thing?”

He lifted a brow. “Yes, it’s a thing. An Alaskan thing.”

“It’s like dodgeball, only with snowballs,” Pastor McNeil said.

Sundog let out an excited woof. Posy nearly jumped out of her chair.

Likening competitive snowballing to dodgeball was a rather oversimplified explanation, but it would give her a good enough idea. And Liam didn’t feel like elaborating at the moment. They weren’t here to discuss his snowball project with the boys. They were here to discuss ballet at the church. Or, if Liam had anything to do with it, the absence of ballet.

He attempted to guide the conversation back to the matter at hand. “I’m confused. How did this come about? Posy hasn’t set foot in Alaska in seven years.”

“Six years. Not seven. Six.” At least she hadn’t insisted he keep calling her Josephine.

Liam’s jaw tensed. He didn’t need her to remind him how long it had been. He knew, down to the day—the day they’d graduated. It had been six years and seven months, which was closer to seven years than six.

Pastor McNeil, who’d been quietly observing their bickering, spoke up. “As it seems you two know one another, Liam, I’m sure you’re familiar with the fact that Miss Sutton’s mother is a member of our congregation. She read about the job opening in the church bulletin and recommended her daughter for the position.”

Posy sat up a little straighter. “It’s only temporary. For six weeks. My mother told you that, right?”

Temporary.

Of course it was. Now things were making more sense. She couldn’t dance while her foot was in a cast, and she needed something to do. Once her injury was healed, she’d be on the first plane out of here.

But could Liam work with her every day for six weeks? If she’d been healthy, probably. The fact that she was injured complicated things. In a major way. He wasn’t sure he could go through that again. And he knew for a fact he couldn’t watch her go through it. Not if the past repeated itself.

“Yes, I understand.” Pastor McNeil nodded at Posy. “But a temporary program is better than no program at all.”

Liam decided to cut to the chase. They were talking in circles. “I’m just not sure ballet is the answer.”

In fact, he was sure it was not the answer. So sure that he’d just about decided to form two competitive snowball teams. The girls could pelt one another with snowballs just as easily as the boys could.

Except the girls had made it pretty clear they weren’t interested in snowballing. If only Ronnie Goodwin hadn’t hit Melody Tucker in the head with a particularly wet snowball on the first day of practice. Maybe Liam could get the girls helmets.

Right. As if the church could afford such luxuries. There was a reason he’d chosen snowballing as a team sport for the boys. If there was one thing Alaska had in abundance, it was snow. Free for the taking.

What he needed to do most of all was get a handle on the apparent feud between Ronnie and Melody. The two teens couldn’t stand one another. Lately, their disagreements had begun to spill over and affect the rest of the kids in youth group. And that was a problem—a problem he could deal with, however, unlike ballet. Ballet was an enemy he no longer had the will to fight. He’d been on the losing end of that battle too many times before.

“There’s nothing wrong with ballet,” Posy said quietly. But she didn’t meet his gaze.

There was plenty wrong with ballet. Was she really going to make him rehash everything, right here in front of his boss?

No. He couldn’t go there. Something about it felt wrong. “Forgive me for pointing out the obvious, but you’re on crutches. How are you going to teach dance?”

If his words wounded her, she gave no indication. She smiled sweetly at Lou and ignored Liam altogether. “My foot won’t be a problem. The girls are beginners, right? Demonstrating the most basic steps won’t be a strain. Besides, I’ll be off the crutches and in a soft walking cast in no time.”

Pastor McNeil— Lou— smiled, as if a dance teacher with a five-pound weight attached to her foot and a pair of wobbly crutches was the most ordinary thing in the world. Were they that desperate for help in the youth department?

Yes. Yes, they were. The job posting had been circulating for months. Posy was the only remotely qualified applicant in all that time.

“That sounds promising, Miss Sutton. Certainly promising enough to give it a try.” Lou aimed a pointed glance at Liam. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

Liam didn’t agree. Not at all. But he was running out of objections he was willing to discuss. And Lou was already looking at him as if he were borderline nuts.

“Liam, you’ll work with the boys. Miss Sutton will work with the girls. I fail to see how this is a problem. Unless there’s something you’re not telling me?”

Now was the time to speak up. But what could he possibly say that wouldn’t make him sound like a lovesick teenager?

I loved her. But she loved ballet more, even though it took everything from her.

He glanced at Posy for the briefest of moments, and in her eyes he saw all the words he couldn’t bring himself to say. She’d walked away from him so easily back then that he’d sometimes wondered if she ever fully understood what had happened. Did she not see how badly she’d hurt herself, and in doing so, how badly she’d hurt him? He would have walked through fire for the girl she’d been. What they’d ended up walking through together had been far worse.