“Are you sure?” he asked, still feeling uncharacteristically uncertain.
She nodded slowly, and Micah felt himself relax. He captured her hand in his. “Then let’s go.” Suddenly, he wanted this first step to be over just as much as Tessa did.
“Are you sure the rink is ready?” she asked nervously as he tugged her toward the door.
He nodded. Micah was absolutely certain the skating arena was prepared for her to practice. He’d had workers there since the day he’d arrived in Amesport. The place was in good-enough shape for them to use, and the ice had been completely repaired so Tessa would be safe. The building might be neglected, but it was sturdy.
He grabbed his own skates from the chair by the door as they exited the front entrance, letting go of her hand as they stepped outside and into the humid, warm air. Fall hadn’t yet arrived in Amesport, and the weather was unusually hot, the midday sun out in full force.
He locked the door as Tessa walked to his vehicle, a large black pickup that he’d rented when he’d arrived in Maine.
Tessa didn’t speak as they drove the short distance to the arena, which gave Micah more time than he needed to think.
What if she gets hurt?
He grimaced, knowing she’d have to eventually practice some risky moves that could end up with Tessa bleeding and broken on the ice. By education, he was an engineer, and he made his activities as safe as possible. His team was constantly coming up with new safety features for his equipment, which had made him the leader in the industry. Sure, he’d broken a few bones and gotten banged up more times than he could count. There was always an element of risk, certain things beyond his control, but he thrived on the excitement, and he was pretty sure of his engineering skills. His main goal was to keep improving his equipment. People like him were always going to participate in dangerous sports, but he wanted to at least decrease the risk as much as possible.
But it’s not about me this time.
It wasn’t him taking the risk, and that scared the hell out of him.
Concern continued to eat at him as he parked the truck and they made their way into the old rink.
Tessa immediately sat down on one of the wooden benches and started to haul on her skates. “I didn’t know you could skate,” she said, her glance curious now.
He waited until she looked at him again for an answer before replying, “I played a lot of hockey as a teenager and some when I was in college.” He didn’t have the skills she used to have on ice, or the finesse, but he could hold his own at rough-and-tumble skating.
He put on the skates he’d had his assistant send to him, in a steadily darkening mood, wishing to hell he’d never read Tessa’s mail. How had his charity found Tessa, anyway? Micah had known about the planned reunion event, but he didn’t have a clue how the organizers had tracked down past Olympic athletes. Tessa stayed far away from the media, from what she’d told him, and he doubted the committee had even known she was deaf. They only knew that she had retired, which was the story in the sports world. Nobody knew much more about her sudden retirement, and since it had been years, almost nobody cared.
Honestly, he didn’t get that involved in the Sinclair Fund. The organization was large and had employees to deal with the day-to-day business. All of the Sinclairs gave to the Fund, and they recommended it to other businessmen, but none of them was really actively involved. It wasn’t possible since they all had busy lives.
“I’m ready,” she said stoically as she finished lacing her second skate.
Hastily finishing with his laces, he stood at the same time she did, following her as she stomped toward the ice. She removed the blade guards from her skates and tossed them onto a bench. “I can do this,” she whispered quietly.
Micah’s heart sank as he watched the indecision and a flash of fear in her expression. He was so damn tempted to just haul her back to the truck and forget about the damn skating.
Her words weren’t meant for him; she was trying to reassure herself.
That she needed to pep-talk herself onto the ice was reason enough for Micah to call off the whole damn thing. Tessa didn’t need to prove herself to anyone.
She stepped onto the ice quickly, so fast that he didn’t even have time to talk to her, see if she wanted to just leave. He was guessing she felt that she needed to either make a move or run back to the truck. His heart swelled as he watched her face her fear head-on.
She started slowly, a little unsure during her first rotation around the square arena. He watched her pick up speed with more than a little apprehension, switching directions as she moved.
Forward.
Backward.
Forward.
Backward.
He lost track of time as he stood beside the rink, his grip on the wooden, waist-high wall so strong that the blood was leaving his fingers.
“Christ!” he rasped as he watched Tessa leap into the air in graceful splits. He gulped in a breath, not releasing the air in his lungs until she’d landed safely.
His eyes never left her mesmerizing movements as all thoughts of skating to her rescue left his brain. She didn’t need him. She’d once been the world’s best figure skater, and she was quickly regaining her confidence. Her skills hadn’t gone anywhere. They’d just lain dormant until this very moment, and he felt pretty damn lucky just to be an observer.
She moved as if she was going through one of her routines, substituting easier moves for some of the more complicated jumps that had likely been part of her program. Micah caught a glimpse of her face as she sped by him, her skin glowing, her expression euphoric and expressive.
Tessa was born to perform, but the opportunity had been taken away from her too damn soon. She’d told him that she’d been training to do the next Olympics as the defending gold medalist when she’d lost her hearing. Unfortunately, she’d never had that chance to defend her title.
Flowing back into the center of the ice, Tessa literally became a blur of movement as she started to spin faster and faster before finally coming to an abrupt stop, her beautiful body holding a graceful pose for one breathtaking moment before she lowered her arms.
“I did it. I can do it.” She was panting as she spoke.
Micah could hear her words from the sideline, and he wondered at the amazement in her voice. Had she been convinced that she couldn’t skate? A person didn’t lose those kinds of skills. Tessa—Theresa Sullivan—had been ice-skating since she could walk, and the training during her adolescence and young adulthood had been intense.
He applauded as Tessa bowed elegantly, but he stopped as she dropped to her knees, her hands over her face.
She’s crying.
He jumped onto the ice and breached the distance between them in an instant, dropping down in front of her, completely oblivious to the freezing cold of the ice beneath his knees. “Tessa. What the hell happened?” he asked urgently even though she couldn’t hear him, trying to move her hands from her face.
Loud, heart-wrenching sobs filled the air, and Micah felt his heart hammering in alarm. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” she wailed, her shoulders rising and falling as she continued to release her emotions. “I did it, Micah. I skated,” she answered tearfully, finally removing her hands from her face, resting them on her thighs. “I heard the music in my head. I still remember it.”