Dancing in Lake Mistletoe (Lake Mistletoe #4)

Chapter Thirteen

Mindi

I sit on the edge of the bed, gritting my teeth as Dutch kneels in front of me, examining my ankle.

“You really don’t have to do this,” I say, trying not to wince as his rough hands gently probe the swollen flesh. “It’s just a little twist. I’ll be fine.”

I was rehearsing with Stuart’s understudy this afternoon when his grip slipped during a lift and I landed awkwardly. The guy’s been hard to work with all week. He’s a good dancer—really good—but we have no chemistry, and it shows. Chemistry is a critical factor when you’re dancing a duet. It’s like musicality—a difficult element to explain and an even harder one to teach, as many believe it can’t be learned, but instead has to be felt. And we definitely weren’t feeling it. Luckily, it happened in the rehearsal room, far from Soma’s keen eyes. At the time, she was onstage, working with Clara and the other children.

He glances up, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You sure about that? Because you were limping pretty badly when you came out of that door.”

I roll my eyes, even though, the truth is, I’m grateful.

I had finished rehearsal early, trying to shake off the pain and slip out unawares, but of course, I wasn’t quick enough to get out of the theater before Dutch noticed. He’d been backstage, working on the magic castle prop for the Land of Sweets, and he saw me hobble out after I changed. He spotted me wincing, and suddenly, there he was, offering to help. And now, here we are, in my suite at the Gingerbread Inn, with him playing doctor.

“I’m fine,” I insist, though the dull throb in my ankle tells a different story.

“Uh-huh,” he says, giving me a knowing look.

His touch is surprisingly gentle despite the size of his hands. He’s careful as he tilts my foot to the side, testing the range of motion. I try to stay still, but a sharp sting shoots up my leg, and I gasp before I can stop myself.

“Yeah, you’re totally fine,” Dutch says with a chuckle. He sits back on his heels and reaches for the ice pack he snagged from Alice. “I’ve seen enough injuries on job sites to know when someone’s pushing through the pain.”

He presses the ice gently against my ankle, and I let out a sigh of relief as the cold numbs the ache.

His eyes soften as he looks up at me, his expression more serious now. “You don’t need to push it.”

I bite my lip. He’s right, but I hate being sidelined.

“It’s not bad. Trust me, I’ve had much worse. I once danced an entire show with a broken metatarsal bone.”

“Okay, tough guy,” he says, “that sounds smart.”

It wasn’t. I knew ten minutes into the performance that my foot was broken, but I was too stubborn to succumb, and I paid for it afterward.

“I didn’t want to let anyone down,” I admit, my voice quieter than before. “I’d worked so hard for that role.”

His gaze gentles, and for a moment, I forget about the pain altogether.

“You won’t let anyone down by taking care of yourself,” he says gently. “Trust me. Josie thinks you’re a superhero, and so does half this town. A little rest won’t change that.”

His words make something flutter in my chest, and I find myself smiling despite everything. “You think so?”

“I know so.”

“Well, the good news is, I’m off for the next couple of days. My actual dance partner will finally be here. Thank God. He won’t drop me. I’m sure I’ll be good as new by then.”

He gives me a stern look.

“I promise I’ll stay off of it until then,” I assure him, and he nods. “You’re good at this, you know?”

“Good at what?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow.

I gesture to my ankle, which his callous fingers are still holding gently. “Taking care of people.”

He laughs a deep, warm sound that makes the whole room feel cozier. “Just comes with being a girl dad, I guess. You get used to taking care of boo-boos.”

“Well, thank you,” I say, my voice softening. “I appreciate it.”

He holds my gaze a second longer than necessary, his hand still resting lightly on my ankle, and for a moment, the room feels smaller. Warmer.

“It’s no problem at all,” he says quietly. “I’m glad I could help.”

He moves to stand, and I take over holding the ice pack.

“I’d better go if you’re good. I have to pick Josie up from school,” he says.

“I am. And thank you again,” I say.

A knock sounds on my door.

“Come in,” I call.

It swings open, and Ellen comes barreling through. Her eyes fall to where I’m still holding the ice to my ankle.

“What happened?” she asks.

“I took a spill in practice. It’s minor,” I say. “Dutch here was kind enough to bring me home.”

She nods her understanding. Turned ankles, blisters, and loose toenails are just par for the course for us.

She walks over and takes a closer look. “No bruising. It should be fine in the morning.”

I look over her shoulder to Dutch and widen my eyes, as if to say, See? Told you.

He just shakes his head.

“Benny and I are going bowling at Sun Valley and wondered if you wanted to join us, but you should probably stay off that for now,” she continues.

“Yeah, I think I’m going to stay in and have dinner downstairs.”

“Okay. Text me if you need anything,” she says, and she smiles up at Dutch as she passes him. “Take good care of her, handsome.”

His eyes come to me as she disappears down the hall.

“Are you sure you’re okay here?”

“Absolutely. I’ll just change into my PJs, prop my ankle up on a pillow, and watch holiday movies.”

He nods and turns to leave, but stops short. Glancing back at me.

“Josie has dance on Thursday. I usually just hang out and walk around the lake until class is over,” he starts.

“Yeah?”

“If you’re not busy and your ankle is better, I could show you the decorations we hung this week.”

“I’d like that.”

“Okay. We’ll pick you up around six.”

“I’ll be ready.”