Tiffany’s heart tore. She would never be a part of her father’s life. It had been his choice when she was a child, it was hers as an adult. Her throat was hot, her eyes burned a little as she turned to J.D. “I don’t see Stephen.”

“Neither do I, but I’m going to start asking some questions. Why don’t you walk around, see if there is anyone here he might hang out with?”

“Okay,” she said and started working her way through the crowd She smiled at people she met, managed a few words to those she knew, but her eyes were forever moving, hunting, seeking a glimpse of her child. She paused beneath the branches of a large locust tree in the backyard and silently prayed that Stephen was all right.

“The bride has requested a snowball dance,” the bandleader said over the microphone before the melody of “The Blue Danube” filled the air. Tiffany was vaguely aware of John and Brynnie dancing as she wended her way through the guests gathered around the dance floor. She saw several boys she recognized but didn’t know their names and when she questioned one lanky, pimply-faced kid, he said he hadn’t seen Stephen since the end of the regular school year. This is a wild-goose chase. He isn’t here! Dear God, where is he?

“Switch,” the bandleader instructed and Brynnie and John broke up to pull two unsuspecting people onto the floor. Brynnie nabbed her eldest son, Jarrod, who eased his mother around the parquet as if he’d done it all his life, while John took hold of Bliss’s hand and led her to the middle of the temporary dance floor. Tiffany, though she fought the urge, couldn’t help but watch her father and half-sister, smiling, laughing, gliding easily in front of the crowd. To her absolute horror, she experienced a little nudge of envy.

Don’t do this, she warned herself as she edged closer to the dancers.

Bliss looked like she belonged on the dance floor. She was in perfect step, smiling and laughing, tossing back her head, her cheeks tinged a deep pink, her eyes glimmering as she danced with her father.

As if they’ve done it a hundred times before.

They probably had. Not that it mattered. Tiffany didn’t care. The past was long gone and right now, her only purpose was to find Stephen. That was why she was here. Nervously she scanned the crowd. Oh, this was getting her nowhere.

“Switch.”

She barely heard the bandleader’s command as she started toward the back door of the house. There was a chance, though slim, that Stephen, if he had come here, was inside.

“Dance with me.” Strong fingers surrounded her arm.

Oh, no.