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Chasing Dreams: A Small Town Single Dad Romance (Harper Family Series Book 1)
Chasing Dreams: A Small Town Single Dad Romance (Harper Family Series Book 1) Read online
Table of Contents
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Copyright
CHASING DREAMS
Book 1 in the Harper Family series
by
Nancy Stopper
Table of Contents
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Copyright
Chapter One
Tanner Ross snapped his hand back, dropped the ball, and smacked it with his paddle. It flew over the net, barely nicking the back corner of the table before flying by Samuel. Tanner threw his hands in the air. “Yes. Ace.”
“Aw man, no fair.” Samuel sulked as he laid his paddle down on the ping-pong table. The like-new table had just been donated to the center last week. “I’ll get you next time.”
“I bet you will. Takes practice. And now that we have one of our own, you’ll have plenty of time.” Tanner rounded the table and wrapped his arm around the thin boy’s shoulder. Jason’s House had been good for Sam in the six months since he’d moved to Cedar Hill. The center had become a safe place for him to grow and thrive.
That was what Jason’s House was all about—giving at-risk kids a glimpse into the life they could have instead. Tanner couldn’t have asked for more fulfilling work, but the hours were long and not every day was fun and games like today. More days than not found him chasing down one of the teens who called the center their second home, keeping them on this side of the law. He’d hoped that Cedar Hill was far enough from the influence of the city, but more than once, he’d driven through the worst parts of Philadelphia in search of a kid.
But Tanner never lost hope. If he could save just one child, keep one mother and father from having to bury their son or daughter, he’d done what he set out to do. It was days like this that reminded him that all kids can be good—they just need a safe place to prove to themselves and everyone else that they weren’t destined for that other life.
Sam stepped back and tilted his head, like he wasn’t sure what he was looking at. “Why you all dressed up today?”
Tanner brushed his hand down his sleeve and fiddled with his pressed khakis. Yeah, this wasn’t his normal dress. The last thing he wanted to do was alienate the kids, make them think he was one of the adults out to get them. So jeans and a T-shirt were typically the dress code. “Got a meeting. I hate wearing these clothes.”
“Then why do you?”
Tanner never missed an opportunity to teach the kids. And this was one of them. “Respect. I’m meeting with the sheriff and the mayor. What do you think they’d think if I walked in wearing ripped jeans and a tee?” Tanner gestured to Sam’s clothes.
“Yeah, maybe. I don’t understand why everyone don’t just wear what they want.”
“I know, Sam. Someday you will.”
“I hope not.” He laughed and Tanner crooked his arm around the boy’s head and scrubbed his fist in Sam’s hair.
“Tanner!” His assistant, Monica, tapped her watch from across the room.
He glanced up at the clock on the wall. “Crap. I’m really late. Rematch?”
“You got it.” Sam fist-bumped Tanner and then smacked him on the back as Tanner rushed across the room.
“You’re incredibly late,” Monica said as he hurried into his office. She held out a necktie, already knotted into a loop.
“Do I really have to wear that?” He caught himself. Hadn’t he just answered that exact question for Sam?
“You’re meeting with the mayor and the sheriff and you’re asking them to stick their neck out. What do you think?”
“Yeah, I know.” As much as he loved his job, this was one of the worst aspects of it. Begging for his kids to be given a chance to turn their lives around. But it was a hoop that he would jump through over and over if he needed to. And that was why he huffed out a breath and pulled the tie over his head. He fastened the tight button at his neck and adjusted the knot. Monica folded his collar down and straightened the knot before heading to his desk.
She shoved a pile of papers in his arms. “You’ll need these. You did finish the grant applications and sent them off last night, didn’t you?”
“Yes.” His answer wasn’t as confident as he would like. Did he actually send them? He’d been so exhausted last night that his head had nodded at the kitchen table while he was putting the finishing touches on the applications. He remembered having to retype mistakes more than once in the forms requesting funds to keep the center open for the next two years and complete some of the much needed projects.
But he couldn’t worry about that now. If he didn’t leave, he’d be late for the mayor. And no one was late for the mayor. If only he could find his keys. He shuffled through the piles of papers that cluttered his desk. One of these days, he’d get around to straightening this office. But every time he thought about tackling the daunting task, something else came up. Like a new ping pong table and a chance to hang out with the kids. That was why he’d become a social worker in the first place—he wanted to make a difference in kid’s lives. The center had seemed like the perfect way to reach them on a level he just hadn’t been able to while working for social services in Philadelphia.
“Where in the heck are my car keys?” He flung open the desk drawers only to find more clutter and no keys. After checking the last one, he slammed it shut and flopped into the chair.
“Tanner?”
He raised his head to Monica, who dangled his keys from her fingers.
He dashed across the room, snatched them away, and hustled out the door. “Thanks.”
“Tanner!” Monica’s shout followed him down the hall.
He spun around. “What? I’m late already.”
His briefcase now swung from her hand. Dagg
one it, he’d lose his head some days if it wasn’t attached. He hustled back to her. “Sorry. Thanks. Won’t happen again.”
She chuckled. “Yes, it will.”
Yeah, it probably would.
Fifteen minutes later, he was sitting across a small conference table from the mayor, feeling like a kid being called to the principal’s office. He fiddled with the papers in front of him, and then dropped his hands to his lap, rubbing the palms on the fabric to wipe off the sweat.
He stared at the mayor as the awkward silence grew. The man was probably the same age as Tanner’s father and had a comfortable way about him that put people at ease. But nothing could calm the nerves building in Tanner’s gut with each minute that passed.
“Sheriff Ballard got detained but he’ll be here shortly. How have you been, Tanner?”
“Good. Good.” He appreciated the mayor trying to calm his nerves, but his heart had no chance of slowing from its rapid pace until he knew for sure that Sandra wasn’t headed into the juvenile court system.
“How’s Hayley?”
He smiled. Tanner couldn’t help but brag about the best thing he’d ever done in his life. “She’s good. Looking forward to going back to school. And she’s been bugging me about taking dance lessons.”
Raising Hayley had been easier when she was younger, when the toughest challenges had been getting her to eat her chicken nuggets when she was crying for macaroni and cheese. When she called him in every night to chase the monsters out of her closet. But an eight-year-old girl was a completely different thing altogether. All he knew about dancing was when he snuggled up close to a woman in a club, her body brushing against his as they moved to the deep beat of some drum and bass. And that certainly wasn’t the type of dance Hayley was talking about. He was way out of his league.
“You should check out the new dance studio on Chestnut Avenue. The owner is a former New York dancer who grew up here in Cedar Hill. Hometown hero comes back and all.”
“Is that right?”
“Yeah. I knew her father.” The mayor’s face fell. “He died a few years back.”
Thankfully, the sheriff burst through the door at that moment, saving Tanner from making any more small talk. “Sorry I’m late. Tanner, Mayor Presley.”
Tanner stood and shook the sheriff’s hand. “Good to see you, Sheriff Ballard.”
“Call me John.”
“Okay, John.”
They sank into chairs and the mayor opened his folder. “Now that introductions are out of the way, let’s talk about Sandra Dixon.”
Tanner launched into the speech he’d rehearsed last night. “I met Sandra over a year ago when her dad brought her into the center. She’d been sneaking out at night, drinking and doing drugs. She was out of control. She was defiant at first, but over time, she warmed up to us at the center. She’s participated in group sessions twice a month, and her grades have steadily improved in summer school.”
“Then how do you explain her participating in a robbery?”
He sucked in a deep breath. That was the same question he’d asked her when she sat in his office, tears streaming down her face, the day after her father had bailed her out of jail. “She didn’t participate. She was just sitting in the car. The guys were friends from her old life in the city, and she didn’t know they were going to rob the shop owner. As soon as she realized what they were doing, she tried to leave, but they wouldn’t let her.”
John shifted in his seat and studied the file in front of him. “It does appear that she’s had a clean record recently. A big change from before.”
“Yes, sir. She’s not skipping classes anymore, she’s checking in with me every day, and meeting curfew each night. Her dad’s changed jobs so he can be around more when she’s out of school. She’s turning her life around. Please, give her this chance to see that we believe in her. When kids don’t think they have anyone on their side, it’s easy to be drawn in by guys and drugs and parties. Let’s show her that all of her hard work hasn’t been in vain.”
He held his breath while the mayor and sheriff carried on a silent conversation with their eyes. It wasn’t often that Tanner found himself in front of the two people in town that could make or break his center. But Sandra had come a long way and she needed this chance.
The sheriff scribbled a few notes in the file and then put his pen down. “If I have your word that she didn’t participate, then I’m comfortable not pressing charges. But I’d like to see a plan for her to do a hundred hours of community service. Cleaning the garbage around the store where her friends ripped off the owner sounds like a good plan. Maybe she’ll think twice about who she chooses as her friends after that.”
Tanner grinned and then tempered his reaction. He stood and extended his hand. “Thank you, Sheriff Ballard. You won’t be sorry. Sandra and I will develop a plan and I’ll bring her in next week to meet with you.”
“I’m not sure I believe her, but I trust you. I don’t have to tell you that I was against your teen center when it was first proposed. But it’s done good things for the community, I can’t deny that. You’ve proven me wrong time and again, and I can only pray that you’ll do the same this time.”
“I will, sir. Thank you. And mayor, thanks for your continued support. I know this is just the chance that Sandra needs.”
“Just make sure.”
Tanner thanked both of them again and then hurried out of the office. By the time he was standing on the sidewalk in front of Town Hall, his hands had finally stopped trembling. He flopped down on one of the benches that flanked the door. After catching his breath, he ripped his phone off his belt and pressed a few buttons.
“Jason’s House, this is Monica.”
“Hey Monica, it’s Tanner.”
“How’d it go?” Anxiety laced her voice. Everyone at the center, employees and volunteers alike, had gone to bat for Sandra, helping her with her schoolwork, introducing her to hobbies that would keep her out of trouble. They were all as invested in her future as he was.
“Sheriff agreed to not press charges. She needs to do a hundred hours of community service.”
Monica blew out a breath. “Thank God. You did it again, Tanner.”
This was a good day. A day he helped another teen. Sometimes he wondered if it was all worth it, when so many bad days were strung together. He wrapped up with Monica, disconnected the call, and dropped his phone on the bench beside him. He really should head back to the center and tackle the ever-present mountain of tasks that were piled on his desk, but he needed a few minutes. He ripped at the tie that practically strangled him. It finally loosened and he unbuttoned the collar.
He was much better working with kids than dealing with politicians and law enforcement. He’d spent so much of his teens trying to keep his younger brothers out of trouble, his heart racing every time the sheriff’s cruiser headed down their dirt road to the ranch house. The mere sight of law enforcement had him going back to those days. But if this was what it took to keep his kids safe and on the right track, he’d do it.
A few pedestrians, business people on break from work, or parents with kids getting ready for school passed him on the sidewalk. He had yet to take Hayley to get school supplies, and she had outgrown most of her clothes from last year. Besides, she’d said that there was no way she could wear her same old clothes on the first day of school. When in the heck was he going to find the time for shopping?
He couldn’t worry about that just now. Not when he had two more grant applications to complete and a pile of paperwork as tall as he was waiting for him back at the center. When, then? She’d understood the last two times he’d had to postpone their shopping trips. But he hated that he’d had to cancel in the first place. These were the types of things they should be doing together as a family, including Hayley’s mother. If only she was still around.
Sure, Hayley could go with Mary, the live-in nanny he’d found to take care of his daughter, but shopping for back to school was a parent
’s job. And as much as Hayley loved Mary, he pushed far too many things off on her. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to spend this time with Hayley, because he did. He just could never seem to get a break.
Many of the teens at the center came from single parent homes. He knew better than anyone else the struggles they faced. But it also worried him that he wasn’t spending enough time with Hayley. If he kept this up, in a few years, the center might be the only place he’d see his daughter, and that just wouldn’t do.
He resolved then and there to carve out more time for her. She would know that he was there for her. That she could talk to him about anything. He’d make this work. It was too important not to.
As he headed back to his car, a poster on the window of the sandwich shop caught his eye. It wasn’t the words on the sign he noticed, but the striking figure of a ballerina, tutu spread out wide from her body, arms above her head, her foot pulled up to her knee. The words “Open House” were scrawled above the photo of the dancer, along with details about the event being held the next day.
This must be the new studio the mayor had mentioned. The open house might be just the thing to give him some quality Hayley time. He’d take her to the studio in the morning and then maybe into Philadelphia to the store with the dolls that she loved. They could make a father-daughter day out of it.
Chapter Two
Isabella Harper spun, her leg flying out and then back in with each rotation. Her eyes caught the mirror each time her head snapped around. Faster, faster. Her thigh and calf burned. She almost had it. Just one more turn.
“Dammit,” she yelled as she collapsed on the ground.
She rubbed at her kneecap, cursing the injury that had reduced her to where she was today. Unable to perform the signature move that had been second nature to her just one year earlier.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
Natalie stepped in front of where Izzy lay sprawled on the floor, her hands on her hips and her short, blonde bobbed hair framing her face. She may only be five-foot-two, but there was a lot of energy packed into that little package. “That was great.”
Izzy threw a frustrated look at her best friend, shifted her feet beneath her, and pulled herself upright. Sweat dripped off her forehead and trickled down her chest. “It wasn’t great. Not by a long shot. But it’s getting there.”