Page 1 of Her Grumpy Cowboy

Chapter One

JASMYN

I pushopen the door to the studio, my dance bag slung over my shoulder as I get ready to face my last day of teaching ballet.

When I step into the room, the scent of wood polish and sweat hits me. But something’s different. The lights are off.

“Surprise!”

Suddenly, the lights flick back on and the room erupts in a chorus of excited voices. My students and their parents beam as they crowd around me. And that’s when I see the giant banner hanging on the far wall: “Thank You Ms. Jasmyn!”

Underneath it, a table holds an enormous cake decorated with ballet slippers.

“Oh my goodness!” My voice catches. “What’s all this?”

One of my students, Maisey Clayton, runs up and wraps her arms around my waist. “Since today is our last class, we wanted to say thank you for everything you’ve done for us.”

I hug her back, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay. “You’re so welcome, sweetie. This is incredible.”

One by one, the children and parents approach me. Hugs, handshakes, and heartfelt words blur together in a whirlwind of emotion.

The lump in my throat grows with each kind word.

When my boss told me last month that our building had been sold and that the studio was closing, I tried to stay positive. And I promised myself I wouldn’t get emotional. But now, seeing all my students like this, I can barely hold it together.

“Ms. Jasmyn?” Maisey tugs at my sleeve. “Will you still teach us somewhere else?”

I kneel down to her level. “I’m not sure yet, sweetie.” I brush a blonde curl away from her face. “But I promise I’ll always be cheering you on, okay?”

She nods solemnly, then throws her arms around my neck. I hug her tightly, willing myself not to cry.

This little girl has come to mean so much to me over the past year.

From the first day she stepped into my studio, I saw a reflection of myself in Maisey. Like me, she doesn’t have the typical ballerina build. Her sturdy frame and cherubic face stand out among the willowy girls in the class.

But what she lacks in traditional aesthetics, she more than makes up for in pure, unbridled passion.

Maisey is also the only girl in the class without a mom, and I can’t help but feel a special connection to her because of that. Growing up, it was just my dad and me against the world after Mom passed away when I was six.

I remember how hard it was, especially when it came to all the typically “girlie” activities like dance classes. Dad did his best, but there were some things he just couldn’t relate to as a man. I would have been so lost without the women in my life who stepped up to fill in the gap.

That’s why I’ve tried to be there for Maisey in any way I can, offering a listening ear and a supportive hug whenever she needs it.

I take Maisey’s hands in mine. ”Maisey, I want you to know that you are an incredible dancer. Your passion and joy shinethrough every time you step into the studio. No matter what happens, never stop dancing. It’s a part of who you are.”

She sniffles and nods, her little chin quivering. “I don’t want you to go away, Ms. Jasmyn.”

“I know, sweetie.” I squeeze her little hands gently. “But even if I’m not your teacher anymore, I will always be here for you. Whenever you need someone to talk to or a hug, I’m just a phone call away. I promise.”

Maisey’s lower lip trembles as a single tear rolls down her chubby cheek. She holds out her tiny finger. “Pinky promise?”

I link my pinky with hers. “Pinky promise.”

A watery smile spreads across her face.

I give Maisey one last squeeze before standing up and turning to face the rest of the class. “Alright, my beautiful dancers! Let’s make this last class together extra special, okay?”

The students scurry to their spots and I demonstrate the first position, my arms flowing gracefully as I begin the warm-up routine. “Remember to keep your shoulders down and your chin lifted.”

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