Page 4 of Declan (Men of Clifton, Montana #53)

“Did you have a good time today?” Declan asked his niece.

“Yep, I like Elise. She’s a good teacher, but sometimes she doesn’t teach. Brandy does,” she replied with a small smile.

“But you like it?”

“Yep!”

“Well, that’s good then,” he responded.

“I like ballet, but I want to take dancercise too, but I don’t think Elise will let me,” Frankie declared with the earnest enthusiasm of a five-year-old.

“Isn’t ballet enough?” he inquired, his tone teasing yet curious.

“No. I want to know how to dancercise and do ballet, so if I take both dancercise and ballet, I’ll know them both,” Frankie explained with a shrug, grinning as if unveiling a brilliant secret.

“That was quite a mouthful for a five-year-old,” he chuckled, and she giggled.

Declan pulled into the driveway of his sister and brother-in-law’s home, where the porch sat beneath a canopy of flowering vines.

He parked beside the wooden steps, stepped out, and carefully opened the back door.

Helping Frankie from her car seat, he set her down.

Frankie giggled and bounded up the steps, Declan removed the car seat, cradling it as he carried it inside.

Before he could reach the door, it swung open, revealing his brother-in-law standing with a welcoming grin.

“Hey, Declan. We appreciate you picking up Frankie,” Dan Weaver said, his tone warm.

“No problem, Dan,” Declan replied as he set the car seat down on the bench beside the door.

“I had fun today, Daddy,” Frankie announced brightly as she dropped her backpack and rushed into her father’s open arms, her excitement lighting up the room.

“Good,” Dan replied, then turned to Declan with a teasing glint in his eye. “I’m wondering how long this will last.”

Declan laughed. “Well, she is a female, so don’t be surprised if she changes her mind,” he said, a playful shake of his head.

“She’d better not,” came his sister Mona’s voice as she stepped into the kitchen. Wrapping her arms around Frankie in a tender hug, she then turned to Declan and asked, “Did you meet the ballet teacher?”

“Yes, why?” he replied, his curiosity mingling with amusement.

“She’s pretty, isn’t she? Her hair is so black and those dark eyes of hers are exotic looking,” she teased, her eyes twinkling as she let the question hang in the air.

Declan narrowed his eyes mischievously. “Did you have me pick her up for that reason? So, I’d get a good look at the teacher?”

“Would I do that?” she retorted with a sly smile.

“Yes. Yes, you would. Forget it. I’m not interested,” Declan said firmly, though his tone carried a note of playful resignation.

“You’re not blind, Declan. Elise is a beautiful woman,” his sister insisted.

“I didn’t say she wasn’t,” he said, his voice a blend of firmness and amusement.

“One day, you’ll need to settle down,” she pressed, confidence in her tone as if speaking a well-known truth.

“Why?” he asked, raising one eyebrow in lighthearted challenge.

“Because Mom and Dad want grandchildren,” she declared, the hint of a playful scold mingling with warmth in her voice.

“I think you have that covered, Mona,” Declan replied with a teasing smirk.

“Grandchildren from you ,” she countered, laughter in her voice.

“Let it go, Mona. How long are you going to keep on him about that?” Dan interjected, adding to the easy camaraderie.

“Until he gets married and has some kids,” she sighed, half-chiding, half-hopeful.

Declan shook his head with a fond smile. “I need to head out. I’ll see you later. Bye, Frankie. Dan, see you soon.” Nodding warmly at them, he walked out toward his truck.

Despite his sister’s gentle reminders about marriage still echoing in his mind, Declan found himself thinking about Elise Ramsey.

It had been quite a while since a woman intrigued him the way she did, and he wouldn’t mind getting to know her better.

His sister was correct about one thing; Elise Ramsey was undeniably a beautiful woman.

****

A week later, Elise opened the studio and smiled, greeting each child as they arrived, often accompanied by either their mother or father, who was responsible for dropping them off.

Among the cluster of families, one man stood out, his gaze lingering on Elise with a curious intensity.

He was handsome, with sharp features and a confident stance, but he was no Declan Cavanaugh, Elise noted silently.

“Hello, I’m Stephen Johnston, and this is my daughter, Jenny. She’s five,” he introduced, extending a firm hand toward Elise. His voice was smooth, carrying a hint of charm that matched his appearance.

Elise accepted his handshake with a friendly nod. “Elise Ramsey. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Johnston.”

“Stephen, please,” he corrected with a gentle smile that softened his expression.

“Alright, Stephen. Will you be the one bringing Jenny to and from her classes?” Elise inquired, noting the small, shy figure of Jenny standing beside him.

“I’ll be bringing her at eleven, but her grandmother will be picking her up at noon,” he confirmed, a shadow briefly crossing his face. “Her mother passed away three years ago, so it’s just us… for now.”

Elise’s heart went out to them. “I’m sorry to hear that. It must have been incredibly difficult for Jenny to lose her mother at such a young age.”

“Yes, but she doesn’t remember her mother,” Stephen admitted. “But I’m getting better, day by day.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Elise replied sincerely, offering a comforting smile. “Oh, is her grandmother’s name down as a person she can leave with?”

“Yes, she is.” Stephen glanced at his watch, a subtle reminder of the time. “Well, I’m off to work. Jenny? Sweetheart, I’ll see you later. Be good and have fun,” he instructed, his tone affectionate yet firm.

“Okay. Bye, Daddy,” Jenny replied, her voice small but cheerful as she clutched Elise’s hand. With that, Elise gently guided her toward the room where the other children were eagerly gathering for ballet, their excited chatter filling the hallway like a melody of anticipation.

At noon, she was already exhausted. Who knew there would be so many little girls who wanted to learn ballet?

It was hard keeping up and she knew she couldn’t take on any more students.

She didn’t want to hire more people, so taking on more students was a no for now, but she put names on a waiting list. She’d see how it went and maybe next spring, she’d be able to take on more.

She stood in the lobby waiting for parents to pick up their kids, then she planned to head upstairs and get a hot bath and try to relax.

“Oh, Elise, I forgot to tell you, but Frankie’s uncle is picking her up again.” Erica smiled.

Elise’s heart slammed against her ribs. She hadn’t seen Declan since last week and she wanted to make sure she hadn’t imagined how hot he was. She bit back a smile. She knew he was hot, no doubt there.

She looked toward the door when it opened and the chime sounded as someone entered, and saw Stephen Johnston.

“Erica? Could you get Jenny? Her father is here.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Erica left the lobby to head for the ballet room.

“Hello, Mr. Johnston. I thought Jenny’s grandmother was picking her up today,” Elise said, her voice a gentle murmur above the soft groan of the studio’s aged pine floorboards.

Late afternoon light streamed through the tall windows, pooling on the worn wood and tracing the outlines of tiny backpacks standing in neat rows against the far wall.

He stepped all the way inside, his polished shoes clicking once before settling on the planks.

He was tall, though not as tall as Declan.

Stop comparing them! His light-brown hair swept back from his forehead, and a faint shadow of stubble covered his jaw.

His blue eyes shone with easy warmth, and his navy suit jacket hung open to reveal a crisp white dress shirt, the collar unbuttoned at the throat.

“Elise,” he said, his voice as smooth as polished bronze. “Jenny’s grandmother wasn’t feeling well, and I’ve asked you to call me Stephen.”

She smiled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Yes, you did. I apologize, Stephen. I hope her grandmother is alright.”

“Just a cold and she didn’t want to give it to Jenny.” He smiled.

“May I ask what you do for a living?” She gave him a brief, appreciative glance, his long limbs, the effortless confidence in his posture, though in her mind Declan Cavanaugh still reigned supreme. She mentally shook her head.

Stephen’s lips curved in a playful half-grin, a spark of mischief dancing in his eyes. “Of course, you can. I work in Real Estate. I’m just glad I can take time to pick up Jenny.”

“They’re gathering their things now.”

“What will you do when school is out?”

“The schedules will be changed to all day shifts.”

He smiled as he looked at her. “How about dinner sometime?”

Elise’s brow furrowed, her smile faltering. “Uh…”

His grin widened as he took a small step forward, the scent of his cologne, warm cedarwood, reaching her. “It’s just dinner,” he said, and she could smell his minty breath.

She hesitated then nodded. “Alright. That would be nice.”

He grinned. “I’m sure we’ll have a nice time.”

She smiled. “Yes, I’m sure we will.”

It looked as if Stephen wanted to say more when the door swung open and Declan Cavanaugh filled the frame. Broad-shouldered and imposing in his khaki shirt with his badge pinned to it, he paused as if struck, gray eyes narrowing at the sight of Stephen. Too bad he hadn’t asked her out.

Declan’s jaw clenched, but he crossed the room with long strides, one hand dropping to rest on the countertop, the other over the grip of his holstered sidearm, his finger casually tapping against it. Stephen’s easy smile faded.

“Johnston,” Declan said, his voice low, rough-edged.

“Cavanaugh,” Stephen replied coolly. “What are you doing here?”

Declan’s eyes shifted to Elise and back to Stephen. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m here to pick up my niece.”