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Starr had a terrible effect on a man. No matter how many times he resolved to stop thinking about her, she crept into his mind anyway. It wasn’t so much that she was attractive; he’d known a lot of women more beautiful than Starr. But none of them had shimmered with such energy.
Leaning back in his chair, Noah rubbed his throbbing forehead, grateful it was Saturday so he didn’t have to go into the office.
A year ago it wouldn’t have bothered him to be caught kissing an attractive woman, but a year ago he hadn’t been worried about keeping custody of his niece. Now, the last thing he needed was even the appearance of impropriety—Becky’s maternal grandparents were the most uptight, conservative people he’d ever met. Fortunately Sam and Amelia’s will had been very specific—they’d wanted Noah to raise their daughter if anything happened to them.
“You need a better security system,” a voice said from behind him. “Almost anyone could break in.”
“Damnation!” Noah leapt to his feet and spun around. He glared at his intruder. It was Rafe McKittrick, Becky’s uncle on her mother’s side of the family. “You installed the lousy system. It figures you could break in. Why the hell are you here?”
“I’ m not staying. I have business down the coast.”
“That’s a relief.”
The corner of Rafe’s mouth lifted slightly under his mustache, which was the closest Noah had ever come to seeing him smile. “Is Becky awake?”
“No.” Noah felt a faint niggle of guilt about being so curt, but he didn’t like any of the McKittricks, including Rafe.
The other man just nodded and tossed him the newspaper he was carrying, folded around the infamous picture. “My parents are a little upset about this, I thought you should know.”
Noah made an impatient gesture. “It’s not like we were sneaking out of some seedy motel. Besides, Starr is a Pulitzer Prize winner. They should love her for that, if nothing else.”
Rafe shrugged noncommittally. “About Becky... Have you considered getting married so she’d have a mother?”
“What?”
“You know, married. The ‘I do’ routine with gold rings. I don’t hold by it personally, but it would go a long way toward smoothing things with the folks. One of their biggest gripes is because you’re a bachelor.”
“Wrong,” Noah retorted. “One of their biggest gripes is that Sam and I were raised by a single father who drank himself into an early grave. We never had the right highbrow background to suit them. As for me being a bachelor... I’ll get married to please myself, and no one else.”
“Suit yourself.”
For a long while after Rafe left, Noah stared into space, his coffee growing cold. He didn’t think the McKittricks could take Becky away from him—they’d have to prove he was unfit. Yet he couldn’t help worrying. They were powerful people, with powerful friends. And they used the newspapers they owned to pillory anyone they didn’t like.
That isn’t fair.
Noah shifted, almost believing he could hear Starr Granger’s voice echoing in his mind. Intellectually, he knew she was different than the nosy, truth-twisting reporters he’d dealt with since Sam’s death—the reporters who had suggested Sam was responsible for the fatal crash of the twin engine Cessna, either by pilot incompetence or impaired judgment. Yet it was hard to separate her from the McKittricks.
With bleak eyes, Noah gazed out at the view. The back of the house overlooked the turbulent beauty of the Pacific Ocean, and visible to the far right was the broad opening of the Columbia River. A nice view for a nice house; a fine, healthy home for a child. Except “nice” and “healthy” weren’t enough to satisfy the McKittricks. They didn’t like anyone who didn’t fit their mold of acceptance.
A small weight, imbued with warmth, leaned against his leg. Becky—tousle-haired and yawning—in her sleepers. Without a word she crawled into his lap and settled against his chest.
Noah’s heart flip-flopped.
He smoothed damp tendrils of hair away from her face. Playing the indulgent uncle had been easy—learning to be a father was far more difficult. Truthfully, sometimes it was easier when Becky was asleep. Wide-awake, she was a complete mystery to him. She smeared bananas on his suits and fed oatmeal to the compact disc player. She didn’t talk very much so he couldn’t tell what she was thinking. She said “no” with alarming regularity.
But it would kill him to lose her.
The thought stayed with Noah as he dressed Becky for the day. He was still awkward with the morning routine of caring for a child, and her bedroom usually resembled a disaster area by the time they were finished. He hadn’t expected a daily fashion dilemma with a two-year-old, but Becky was fussier than any New York model.
Today was no exception.
She didn’t want to wear the Cinderella outfit; she wanted the one with kitty cats. Only, when he found the kitty-cat sweater, she’d changed her mind and wanted something else. Since she didn’t communicate well, he ended up holding garments up one by one, trying to figure out which one she really wanted. Of course, she ended up deciding to wear the Cinderella dress after most of the closet and her dresser drawers were empty.
As they headed back to the kitchen—finally dressed—Noah sighed. When it came to Becky, his extensive medical education flew out the window. All the child-rearing theories in the world didn’t amount to a hill of beans when confronted by an obstinate two-year-old.
Patience. He just needed patience.
Becky’s tantrums were probably caused by the upheaval in her life. And no wonder. Losing Sam and Amelia had been hard for both of them.
Noah was contemplating the next battle, what to fix for breakfast, when the phone rang. “Hello?”
“You sound breathless.” Starr’s melodic voice sent an unusual reaction through Noah’s gut. “How is Becky doing? Any problems because of the excitement?”
“Er...Ms. Granger. No, she’s fine.”
“I thought you were going to call me Starr.”
“I wasn’t going to call you at all,” he said bluntly. No matter how attractive, he didn’t plan on spending time with Starr Granger. She was too...volatile. Too unpredictable. Too everything.
She laughed, seeming unperturbed by his rudeness. “I’d like to see Becky. We didn’t have much chance for a visit with everything that happened.”
“Uh-huh,” he murmured.
“How about this afternoon?”
Noah shifted uncomfortably. “I think next week would be better.”
There was a long pause. “I won’t be in town for very long. I’m on vacation, but I have to go back to work eventually.”
“I didn’t realize you took vacations.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Starr asked, a faintly indignant huff in her voice.
“Nothing. Except...well...why the sudden interest in Becky? Hell, you didn’t even show up at her baptism—they had to get someone to stand in for you.”
Starr sighed. “We discussed this when I called the first time. I was on assignment. I explained to Amelia and Sam—they understood.”
Noah gritted his teeth. Fine. Maybe Amelia and Sam had understood, but he didn’t. “This is just one of your impulsive whims,” he growled. “Like kissing me in front of everyone. Have you seen yesterday’s paper?”
Starr laughed. “I thought you’d be unhappy about that.”
“Unhappy?” he said loudly. “The McKittricks live only a hundred miles away and they watch everything I do. Hell—they’re probably filing for custody right now.”
“You’re just overreacting. They aren’t that bad, you know.”
“Oh, sure!”
“Unca Noah?” A hand tugged on his trousers. Distracted, he looked down at Becky’s worried face.
“It’s all right, baby,” he reassured. “Go play with your toys...or with Kitty.”
“Not baby,” she informed him. Her bottom lip pouted out and he winced. When she had a tantrum she realty had a tantrum. For all her sweetness, his niece was as stubborn as a mule.
“Noah...Dr. Bradley, are you there?”
“Just a minute, Ms. Granger.” He leaned down to Becky and tweaked one of her braids. It wasn’t a very good braid, but the best he’d been able to manage with her silky fine hair. “That’s right, you’re not a baby,” he agreed. “Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes. Can you wait a while?”
After a long pause she nodded and trotted to the corner, where Kitty was flicking his tail and observing his food bowl. Becky thumped his back and he turned and rubbed himself against her so hard, she toppled onto her bottom with a giggle.
Noah shook his head. Kitty was unaccountably gentle with Becky. He straightened and tucked the receiver under his chin. “Starr?”
“Yes.”
“We’ll have to talk about what’s best for Becky. When may I see you?”
“Anytime, I guess. I’ll be here the rest of the day. I’m staying with my mother and father. They have a store called From Earth and Sky—they live in the back.”
“Good. Becky is supposed to spend the morning with some friends, so I’ll get her settled before coming over.” Noah scribbled the directions and hung up with a terse goodbye.
Maybe, just maybe, under different circumstances he’d enjoy knowing Starr Granger. But maybe not. Sam’s death had reminded him how fragile life could be. He didn’t want to care about someone who treated it so casually.
Even a woman as intriguing as Starr.
Two hours later Noah parked his car and stared at the directions Starr had given him, then back at the house. A health food store? Starr’s parents owned a health food store.
He’d expected something entirely different. An art gallery perhaps. A snobbish, upscale gallery. The kind of straitlaced, conservative place the McKittricks would patronize. But it wasn’t, so how had Starr Granger and Amelia McKittrick ever become friends?
A sensation of unreality crept over him as he stepped through the gate and watched a pair of brown rabbits hop away, disappearing into the lush wilderness of the garden. It was like something from one of Becky’s storybooks—a combination of Peter Cottontail and Alice in Wonderland. Baskets of flowers and herbs hung from the overhanging eaves. Moss grew in velvet swathes between flagstones on the path and at the foundation of the house. And on the porch a mama cat lounged in the sun, three kittens busily nursing.
Warily he opened the front door and saw a plant-filled interior. Light cascaded through a myriad of crystals, sending fractured rainbows dancing through the air and across various wares in jars and bins. A woman sat at a loom under the far window, examining the pattern she was weaving. After a moment she looked up and smiled.
“Welcome,” she said softly.
“Uh...er...thanks,” Noah stuttered. Plainly this was Starr’s mother. They had the same stunning cheekbones, the same clear blue-green eyes, the same rich, golden brown hair. But where Starr radiated saucy self-reliance, her mother had the sweet, untroubled innocence of a child.
She rose to her feet, looking oddly sophisticated in a natural-weave skirt and sweater. “Would you like some tea? I have some wonderful chamomile I grew myself.” She paused and studied him for a moment. “Or would you prefer peppermint and honey?”
“Er...no...nothing, thanks,” Noah said quickly, unable to repress a small shudder.
“I understand. You’re a friend of my daughter’s.”
He blinked. Psychic? “Well...sort of.”
Just then a man strolled through a door in the rear. “Have you seen the radish seeds, Moon Bright? I want to start some sprouts for salad.”
“Blue,” she admonished gently. “You know Morning Star doesn’t like sprouts.”
“But these are different.” Blue looked at Noah, whose jaw had dropped at the vivid collection of names. “You must be here to see Morning Star.”
“Morning Star?” he repeated.
“She prefers to be called Starr,” Moon Bright explained.
Noah rubbed his temple. What...did he have a tattoo on his forehead? A warning sign? Danger. This Man Has Encountered Starr Granger. His Life Will Never Be The Same.
“Er...how did you know?”
“The suit,” Blue said.
“No herbal tea,” Moon Bright added. She sighed.
“None of her friends like herbal tea. Oh, dear, you’re not that man she married, are you?”
Married? Noah’s eyes narrowed as he realized how little he knew about Starr. And the worse part was learning she’d given him insomnia when she was definitely unavailable. He didn’t agree with “open” marriages.
“No,” he said shortly. “I’m not the one she married.”
Moon Bright appeared relieved. “I’m so glad.”
Noah couldn’t decide if he himself was insulted, or relieved. Marriage to Starr Granger would surely lead a man to stark raving insanity.
“Dad, where are your sales receipts for the past quarter?” exclaimed the “wife” in question as she swept into the room. In contrast to the artless tranquillity of her parents, she was a whirlwind of energy. “I can’t do an income projection without them.”
“You have company, dear.”
When Starr recognized Noah, her eyes widened. “Oh...Dr. Bradley. You’re earlier than I expected.”
“A doctor?” Moon Bright shook her head sadly. “Darling, I think we should talk.”
“Not now, mother.” Distracted, she looked at her father as he lifted various containers from the shelves and inspected the contents. “Dad, what are you looking for?”
“Radish seeds, dear. They make a very tangy sprout. I’m sure you’ll like them.”
Starr rubbed the back of her neck as though in sudden, acute pain.
“I’m glad he’s not the one you married,” Moon Bright murmured. “At least he said he wasn’t.”
“Uh...” Starr glanced briefly in Noah’s direction.
He glared, deciding he was both relieved and insulted. “Please, tell us about the man you did marry, since I’m not the ‘one.’”
“There’s not much to tell. I’m divorced.”
“You and Chase would still be together if you hadn’t stifled yourselves with legal boundaries. It’s so unnatural. Remember that next time, dear,” her mother advised. She looked at Noah and shook her head again, clearly alarmed he might be “the next time.”
“Thanks, Mom. I think I’ll go for a walk. I need some air. Try to find those sales receipts while I’m gone, okay, Dad?” She grabbed Noah’s arm and propelled him through the door. He endured the fast-paced march for two full blocks down the hillside before slowing her into a more normal pace.
Normal? Hell, he doubted anything was normal around Starr. Noah whistled beneath his breath. “Morning Star” hadn’t rebelled from a straitlaced home, she’d escaped herbal tea and radish sprout salads. Compared to her parents, she was a conservative rule follower, a staid pillar of the community. The difference was phenomenal.
