Page 1 of Dancing in Lake Mistletoe

Mindi

I’m standing at baggage claim at Friedman Memorial Airport in Hailey, Idaho.

I can’t believe I’m doing this.

I’m a third-year corps de ballet dancer with a company out of New York, who was given the opportunity to take on the principal role of the Sugar Plum Fairy inThe Nutcracker. Which is virtually unheard of. But this production was thrown together at the last minute, so when the opportunity presented itself, I jumped on it.

Usually, when you are cast in a travel ballet, you spend a week in one city before moving on to the next; however, a fancy ski resort in Sun Valley, Idaho, opened a theater, and they wantto offer tickets to their guests this year. They hired us for a six-week run. We’ll be performing three nights a week, starting mid-November and running through Christmas Eve.

Today is October 25, and we start rehearsals next week, so that gives us two weeks of six-hours-a-day rehearsal time to prepare for our November 15 opening night.

I need this to go well. If it does, I’ll have a chance at landing a coveted soloist contract with my company. It’s a long shot for a third-year, but it can be done.

I spot a cream-colored suitcase with lavender luggage straps coming down the chute and flopping onto the conveyor belt just as a deep voice calls my name. I turn to see a handsome man in a blue-and-green flannel shirt and jeans, his eyes glancing from his phone screen to around the baggage area.

“I’m Mindi,” I say as I raise my hand and wave in his direction.

He makes his way over to me and smiles. “Hi, I’m Keller Harris.”

“Are you with the car company?” I ask.

“No. I’m with the inn you’re staying at in Lake Mistletoe. My wife, Willa, is the owner. Someone from New York called this morning, asking if we had an airport shuttle,” he explains as I shuffle over to grab my belongings on the next rotation.

He helps me lift the heavy bag from the carousel and deposits it on the floor.

“And the inn sent you? An owner? I’m so sorry. I could have taken a taxi or something,” I say as I stack my carry-on on top of my suitcase.

“I don’t mind at all. I was making a delivery up this way today.”

“A delivery?”

“Yes. I make custom furniture, and I made a conference table for the Mountain View Lodge a couple of miles from the airport,” he clarifies.

“In that case, thank you very much for the ride.”

He escorts me through the glass doors and to the parking garage, where his truck is parked. I help him heft my overweight luggage into the back before settling into the passenger seat.

“You’re from New York, right?” he asks.

I nod as I fasten my seat belt.

“Have you been to Sun Valley before?” he asks once we are on the road.

I shake my head. “Nope, this is my first time in Idaho.”

“Ah, well, you’re in for a treat. Nothing beats the Rocky Mountains in fall and winter. Especially the Smoky and Pioneer Mountains we’re nestled between.”

I glance out the window. The road stretches ahead, and the mountains rise like old giants in the distance, their peaks dusted with what’s probably the first snow of the season. To the west, the Smoky Mountains stand, their ridges softened by the morning haze. A breeze pulls at the lingering smoke that Keller explains is from fall burn-offs, and the scent of pine sneaks through the truck’s air vents. The Pioneer Mountains loom taller to the east, their jagged granite faces glowing under the late October sun. Gold-leafed aspens cling to their sides while bare cottonwoods sway along the river below. It’s a far cry from the skyscrapers that usually make up my view.

“I’m looking forward to it,” I say as I gaze at the natural beauty. “Don’t get me wrong; New York is beautiful during the holidays, but I think I needed to get away from the crowds and the hustle for a bit.”

His eyes slide to me, and he grins. “In that case, Lake Mistletoe at Christmastime is just what the doctor ordered,” he says.

And I think he might be right.

The drive is short and scenic. My eyes feast on all the natural beauty when we come to a gate with a large wooden bear standing to the right, holding a sign that readsWelcome to Lake Mistletoe.

A pristine lake sits before us. Its waters are still and silent, like a mirror reflecting the silvery-blue sky and rich autumn colors from the trees lining its shores.

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