Sugar Plums for Dry Creek. Janet Tronstad

France in the same village as Lizette’s mother. Both women had studied ballet together and had left France together. Lizette’s mother had become more Americanized over the years, however, especially after she’d started working in the bakery.

      As Lizette’s mother became more conservative in her dress, Madame Aprele became more outrageous, until, in the end, Lizette’s mother looked almost dowdy and Madame Aprele looked like an old-fashioned movie star with her lavender feather boas and dramatic eye makeup.

      Lizette stepped down from the chair just as she saw two little children cross the street from the hardware store. The sun was shining on the window so Lizette could not see the children clearly, but she could tell from their size that they were both good prospects for ballet.

      Lizette didn’t know how to advertise in a small town like Dry Creek, but she supposed she could ask about the children at the hardware store, find out who their parents were and send them a flyer.

      When the children passed her door, they stopped. The little girl was staring at something, and it didn’t take long for Lizette to figure out what it was. The sunlight was streaming in, making the Sugar Plum Fairy costume sparkle even more than usual. Lizette’s mother had used both gold and metallic pink on the costume when she’d made it, and many a young girl mistook it for a princess costume.

      “If you go ask your mother if it’s okay, you can come in and look at the costumes,” Lizette said. She doubted things were so casual in Dry Creek that parents wanted their children going into strange stores without their knowledge.

      The girl whispered something in the boy’s ear. He nodded.

      Lizette had walked closer to the children and was starting to feel uneasy. If you added a few pounds and took away the scared look in their eyes, those two kids looked very similar to that snapshot she’d seen several days ago. She looked up and down the snow-covered street. There were the usual cars and pickups parked beside the hardware store and the café, but there were no people outside except for the two children. “Does your mother know where you are?”

      Both children solemnly nodded their heads yes.

      Lizette was relieved to know the children had a mother. Their father hadn’t looked like much of a parent, but hopefully their mother was better.

      “Our mother won’t mind if we look at the dress,” the boy politely said after a moment and pointed inside. “That one.”

      The rack was very close to the door and Lizette decided she could leave the door open so the children’s mother could see them if she looked down the street. Really, if she moved the rack closer, the children could touch the costumes while they stood outside on the sidewalk.

      Lizette pushed the costume rack so it was just inside the door. “The pink one is my favorite, too.”

      Lizette watched as the little girl reached out her hand and gently touched the costume.

      “That’s the dress for the Sugar Plum Fairy in the Nutcracker ballet,” Lizette said.

      “What’s a ballet?” the boy asked.

      Lizette thought a moment. “It’s like a play with lots of costumes and people moving.”

      “So someone wears that dress in a play?” the boy asked.

      The boy and Lizette were both seeing the same thing. The little girl’s face was starting to glow. One moment she had been pale and quiet, and the next her face started to show traces of pink and her eyes started to sparkle.

      For the first time, Lizette decided she had made the right decision to come to Dry Creek to open her school. If there were more little girls and boys like this in the community, she’d have a wonderful time teaching them to love ballet.

      Chapter Four

      Lizette heard a sound and looked up to see a half-dozen men stomping down the steps of the hardware store and heading straight toward her new school. She wasn’t sure, but she thought every one of the men was frowning, especially the one who was at the back of the group. That man had to be forty years younger than the other men, but he looked the most annoyed of them all.

      “The children are still just on the sidewalk,” Lizette said when the men were close enough to hear. While she hadn’t thought anyone would want children to go into a building alone, she certainly hadn’t expected there would be a problem with them standing on the sidewalk and looking at something inside. If the citizens of Dry Creek were that protective of their children, she’d never have any young students in her classes.

      Lizette braced herself, but when the men reached her, they stood silent. Finally, one of them cleared his throat, “About this—ah—school—”

      “The children will all have permission from their parents, of course,” Lizette rushed to assure them. “And parents can watch the classes any time they want. They can even attend if they want. I’d love to have some older students.”

      The younger man, the one who had hung back on the walk over, moved closer to the open door. He seemed intent on the two children and did not stop until he stood beside them protectively. Lizette noticed that the young boy relaxed a little when the man stood beside him, and the girl reached out her hand to touch the man’s leg. She knew the man wasn’t the children’s father because she’d met that man already. Maybe he was their stepfather. That would explain why the father hadn’t known where the children lived.

      “Well, about the students—” The older man cleared his throat and began again. “You see, there might be a problem with students.”

      “No one has to audition or anything to be in the performances,” Lizette said. She wasn’t sure what was bothering the men, but she wanted them to know she was willing to work with the town. “And public performance is good for children, especially if it’s not competitive.”

      “Anyone can be in the play,” the boy said softly.

      The men had all stopped talking to listen to the boy, so they all heard the next words very clearly.

      “I’m going to be a Sugar Plum Fairy,” the girl said, and pointed to the costume she’d been admiring.

      Judd swallowed. Amanda never talked to anyone but Bobby, and then only in whispers. Who knew all it would take was a sparkly costume to make her want to talk?

      “How much is the costume?” Judd asked the woman in the doorway. He didn’t care what figure she named—he’d buy it for Amanda.

      “Oh, the costumes aren’t for sale,” the woman said. “I’ll need them for the performance, especially if I want to have something ready for Christmas. I won’t have time to make many more costumes.”

      “About this performance—” The older man said, then cleared his throat.

      Lizette wondered what was bothering the old man, but she didn’t have time to ask him because the younger man was scowling at her.

      “So the only way Amanda can wear this costume is if she’s in your performance?” he asked.

      “I wouldn’t say it was my performance.” Lizette felt her patience starting to grow thin. “All of the students will see it as their performance. We work together.”

      “About the students—” The older man began again and cleared his throat for what must have been the fourth time.

      “I’ll sign Amanda up,” the younger man said decisively. “If she signs up first, she should get her pick of the parts, shouldn’t she?”

      “Well, I don’t see why she can’t be the Sugar Plum Fairy,” Lizette agreed. After all, Lizette herself would be choreographing the part for the children’s ballet, and could tailor it to Amanda’s skills. She’d just gotten her first student. “She’ll have to practice, of course. And we’ll have to have a few more students to do even a shortened version of the Nutcracker.”

      The younger man