The Dance of the Firefly
by Kathy Bosman
Mix together a beautiful ballerina and ballet teacher, a sexy single dad, and a precocious-yet-sweet daughter, and emotions run high. Add racial and cultural differences, work contracts coming to an end, and hurts and memories from the past and sparks fly.
Rowena loves to dance but has ended up teaching ballet instead. When she helps out Cameron’s difficult daughter, a bond develops between the two dancers. Cameron makes Rowena uncomfortable because he stirs up new, unwanted feelings which make no sense when he intends to leave Zambia soon when his contract ends.
Cameron can’t resist sanguine live-wire Rowena who makes his daughter smile for the first time in years. But can he risk his heart again when memories of his late wife come back to haunt him? And Rowena has a lot more at stake in giving her all.
Cameron slipped out the door before Rowena spotted him watching her. His heart rate betrayed his surprise. He’d never seen anything so beautiful. Samantha used to dance beautifully, but not with so much feeling. His late wife’s ballet had been a perfect craft. Each step melded into the next neatly and graciously, without anything out of line. He felt like he could almost see the imaginary lines on the stage when she danced. The perfect spaces she kept on.
Not this woman. Her dancing was rough, raw, and deep. In those few moments of watching Rowena through the high studio window from the dark outside, his whole soul had been shaken to the core. It was as if she’d touched something deep inside of him.
Since Samantha died, the only human being who mattered was Jamey. Few people understood what it was like to lose a spouse after six years of marriage and eight years together. It was like losing a leg or an arm. Everything you did was crippled. Every moment of every day, you remembered your loss and felt less capable of achieving your goals.
So how could he be so fascinated with another woman? He climbed into his Land Rover and took a potholed road to Kalundu to pick up Jamey. The familiar jarring of the huge gashes in the tar forced him to drive slowly. In some places, the surface of the road consisted of more dirt than tar. Boredom lulled him into a dream world.
Flashes of the teacher’s dance came back to him. Why couldn’t he stop thinking of it? Why did he suddenly long to take the woman in his arms and kiss her thoroughly? Her pertinence had attracted him. The raw energy she displayed had drawn him. The young woman’s unusual appearance had fascinated him. He’d been mesmerized by her fake blonde streaks against dark, straightened locks pulled into a tight ponytail, clear green eyes, and caramel skin. The unusual coloring and bone structure, with her high cheekbones and pointy chin, were softened by the smoothest-looking skin he’d even seen and rounded cheeks.
Saturday was going to be interesting. Not like he would pursue anything. He wasn’t ready for a romantic relationship. But browsing was free. Experiencing a person from a distance should be safe. Pity he couldn’t spy on the class. He had the means to, but would his conscience let him? A small smile tugged at his mouth. He could watch her before and after the lesson. In his mind’s eye, Samantha peered at him from the stage, her body poised in an elevated step, questioning him with her gaze, her gentle smile warming his heart. Yeah, it wasn’t time yet. Would his memories ever let him think of anyone other than his late wife?
About Kathy Bosman
Kathy loves reading and writing even more. She homeschools her three kids, so in between unsuccessfully explaining the difference between subject and predicate or how to divide fractions, she enters an imaginary world of troubled and passionate characters whose stories take over the page. Kathy lives in Kwazulu Natal, South Africa, where the summers are hot, the winters cool, and bugs thrive. Her first published novel, Wedding Gown Girl, came out in 2012 with Astraea Press. She belongs to the Romance Writers of South Africa Group (ROSA) which has been her greatest support and inspiration the last few years.