A Fool's Gold Christmas (Fool's Gold #9.5)

Evie was dressed and hovering by the front door fifteen minutes before Dante was due to arrive. It was barely seven and well below freezing. But the skies were clear, so there still wasn’t any snow.

This morning was the work party for her sets and she was nervous about everything getting done. While the sets were simple and the dancers the focus of the performances, the backdrops provided context and mood. No one would expect perfection from an amateur show, but she was determined to get as close to professional as possible.

She opened the front door when she saw him walking up the front steps. He smiled when he saw her.

“You look nervous,” he said.

“What if we don’t get everything done? I’m trying not to freak out, and it’s difficult.”

He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “Have a little faith.”

“I have great faith in you,” she told him. “It’s myself and everyone else who causes me doubt. I’ve barely held a paintbrush.”

“Now you’ll be able to practice.”

She grabbed her jacket and followed him outside. Instead of his sleek German import, a large pickup truck was parked in his driveway.

“Compliments of your sister-in-law,” he said.

She slid onto the seat and stared at him. “You borrowed Heidi’s truck?”

He shrugged. “I knew if I asked one of your brothers to trade with me, he would probably drive my car. Heidi won’t.”

She grinned. “Are you sure about that? She has a bit of a wild streak. What if she takes one of her goats for a joyride?”

“Now you’re just messing with me. Come on. We need to get our supplies and be at the warehouse before our workers show up.”

Ten minutes later Dante was backing toward the loading dock of the Fool’s Gold hardware store. Two teenagers were ready with stacks of paint, brushes, tarps, glue and bags filled with Evie wasn’t sure what. Dante went over his master list, and Evie signed the purchase order. The store would bill Dominique, the dance studio’s owner, directly.

By quarter to eight, they’d stopped for coffee and were on their way to the warehouse. Evie told herself that whatever work they got done would be enough and that she shouldn’t be disappointed if no one showed up to help. People had busy lives, and it wasn’t as if she had a bunch of friends in town. Sure, Charlie and Patience had offered to make a few calls, but would that make a difference? Patience would be there, Evie knew, but Charlie had to work at the fire station. Still, with one or two parents and her brothers, they could make some serious progress.

Dante pulled into the storage warehouse parking lot. She saw there were already about ten or fifteen cars and trucks there.

As she climbed out of the truck, Patience hurried toward her, her long brown hair pulled back in a ponytail.

“’Morning,” she said cheerfully. “I’m just organizing the work parties now. The sets have already been pulled out and grouped together by scene. I was waiting to hear what you think about how we’re going to do this.”

Not sure she would have an opinion, Evie followed her inside the large building.

Instead of the sets being stacked together in the cramped storage locker, they were spread out in the long, open hallway of the warehouse. Sure enough, they had been clustered together by scene and in chronological order. She could look at them and see the flow of the show.

More surprising was the setup. Long tables stood at one end. Heaters were plugged in the whole length of the hall. Lights blazed overhead. But the most amazing part of all was the people waiting. There had to be at least twenty adults and several of her dance students. As Evie blinked in astonishment, two more families arrived, including Melissa and Abby Sutton. They were accompanied by a boy, who was probably their brother, and their parents. Rafe, Shane and Clay were also there, smiling at her with an annoying combination of pride and smugness.

“Surprised?” Clay asked.

“Yes,” she admitted.

“Good. We decided you needed more surprises in your life.”

“Lucky me.”

“By eight-thirty we won’t be able to move in here,” Patience told her. “But, hey, the more hands, the better, right? This way, we’ll get it all done by noon.”

Evie opened her mouth, then closed it. Her throat was tight, and she had the horrifying thought that she might actually start to cry. She’d been hoping for a couple of parents to show up. Not a flood of assistance from people she didn’t even know.

“I, um,” she began, then waved her arms, not sure what to say.

Dante took one of her hands in his and squeezed her fingers. “I’m the professional here,” he told her. “Why don’t you let me organize everyone into groups? You can supervise.”

“Thank you,” she said, vowing to bake him a cake or something later. Okay, maybe baking wasn’t the best way to show her appreciation, but she would come up with a plan.