Hometown Star (3 page)

On her way across the yard, she spied Finn playing with Emma. The two looked nothing alike. Finn had Cade’s black hair, while Emma’s hair was a beautiful shade of red. Both twins sat on the grass, petting the kitten.

Star waved as she passed.

The minute she hit the trail, her feet began to ache, so much, she almost wished she’d taken the ride from Cade.

Almost.

Star pulled her hair up into a ponytail. She slid her feet into her comfy yellow flip–flops, noting the blisters on her heels. While the walk back from the O’Brien house may have saved her pride, her feet were now paying the price, but it was a small price to pay when it came to taking nothing from Cade O’Brien.

Ready to work, Star glanced around, wondering where she should start. With Patsy’s room? The bedroom was sure to be full of memories. Maybe she’d wait until tomorrow to tackle that room with Brandi.

Star did a quick check on the second bedroom. The room was crammed full of Patsy’s art supplies and canvases—too many to weed through when she was this tired, although she did look forward to going through her aunt’s paintings. Patsy’s paintings were the biggest reason she’d decided to close out the house herself. She couldn’t bear to see them thrown away or destroyed. Her aunt lived on those canvases. Star hoped to find one or two paintings to take home with her, and she felt certain her sisters would like mementos as well.

Star turned her attention to the kitchen. She paused in front of the refrigerator. Stuck to the fridge with a magnet shaped like a whale, was a faded photo of Star, Ruby Sue, Tawney, and Brandi.

Star’s heart broke for the little girls they’d been. The photo had been taken on their first day with Patsy. Star had just turned ten. A little mother already, she held a baby Brandi in her arms with Ruby Sue and Tawney sitting on either side of her. Newly abandoned by their mother, Star could see the fear in her eyes, the desperation. All four girls looked dirty, unkempt, and miserable.

Sadness filled Star’s chest. She removed the photo, tossing it into an empty box on the counter.

As Star worked to pack up Patsy’s life, she remembered her aunt in the kitchen, flipping pancakes, making Star a special malted milk, and wiping her face with a wet dishrag. Good memories. Patsy, the ultimate caregiver.

When they’d been here, life had a routine. They had bedtimes, regular meals, and clean clothes to wear. They were never late for school. Their homework was done. And best of all, Star didn’t have to be the mother. Sometimes it had been hard to give up that control. Star smiled. She’d gotten into it with Patsy more than once over parenting issues.

“Miss you, Pats,” Star said, wishing she’d had the chance to say goodbye. Star’s heart broke all over again when she thought of Patsy dying here alone. No one should have to die alone. Star prayed the heart attack had been swift, Patsy’s suffering minimal.

The hum of a vehicle coming up the drive pulled Star from the box of Tupperware she loaded. She peered out the broken front window, recognizing the O’Brien truck.

Cade.

And he had Finn with him.

Star tensed. Old habits died hard. What did Cade want? After her earlier trip down memory lane, she didn’t know how much more she could take today. She met Cade and Finn at the door, feeling more like she was preparing for battle than greeting neighbors.

“Hi, Star,” Finn called on his way up the steps, Cade right behind him.

“What brings you two here?” she asked with wary curiosity.

“We brought you dinner,” Finn said, and Star noticed the foil–covered dish in Cade’s hands.

“Trudy insisted,” Cade said.

“How thoughtful,” Star replied, warmed by Trudy’s gesture.

Cade had obviously showered, changing into clean jeans and black T–shirt with
O’Brien Charters
written in neat script across his chest. Star couldn’t help but remember what he looked like under that T–shirt, all hard muscle and tanned skin. So good looking. Such a jerk.

“We were hoping the chicken potpie could act as a peace offering for Finn being in the house when you arrived,” Cade told her. “I hope he didn’t scare you.”

“Just a little.” Star smiled. Heaven help her, she could smell the chicken potpie and her stomach responded. She took the casserole dish from Cade, the ceramic still warm in her hands. “Thanks. Come over any time, Finn, if it means I get a home cooked meal.”

Finn smiled, revealing a missing front tooth.

“He won’t be bothering you again.” Cade leveled a stern look on his son. “Right, Finn?”

“But Star said I could come over.” Finn’s lower lip jutted out.

“With your dad’s permission,” Star said the words leaving her mouth before she could stop them. No matter how much she disliked Cade, she didn’t want to mess with the way he parented.

“Can I bring Emma?” Finn asked.

“Sure.”

“And Snowbell?” Finn said.

“Snowbell?” Star asked.

“Our kitten,” Finn told her proudly.

“Ah,” Star said. “Sure, bring her over. I love kittens. I always wanted a cat but was never allowed to have one. We never stayed any place long enough to have a pet.”

Star stole a look at Cade. His mouth had tightened into a frown, and she wondered what he had to frown about. In her eyes, he’d had it all when they’d been kids, parents who loved and cared for him, a big, beautiful house, money. Did he even appreciate any of it? He’d been born lucky, while she’d had to scratch and claw her way out of dysfunction and poverty.

“We should be going.” Cade placed a hand on Finn’s shoulder. “Come on, Finn.”

“Bye, Star,” Finn said before turning to follow his dad.

“Get in the truck,” Cade said to his son.

Finn did as his father asked, then Cade wheeled around walking back to her.

Again, Star braced herself, for what? A confrontation? A mean remark? Ridiculous. They were adults now.

“I owe you an apology,” Cade said from the base of the porch steps, those blue eyes of his glittering. “It’s not you, Star. It’s never been you.”

Before Star could process the words, he turned and climbed into the truck, revving the engine loudly before reversing down the drive.

Cade O’Brien had just given her a backhanded apology.

Why?

It was a full minute before Star remembered the casserole dish warming her hands—the peace offering. Had he laced the food with poison? Did she dare eat it? Star shook her head.

She was being ridiculous. She was going to eat the chicken potpie, and she was going to enjoy every single bite.

Cade O’Brien be damned.

* * *

Star woke with a start.

At first she couldn’t remember where she was, but thanks to the seventeen plus hours of daylight Seward enjoyed this time of year, she quickly got her bearings. She didn’t move, didn’t breathe. Something had woken her, but what?

She strained her ears, listening.

“Give me a beer,” a young male voice said from outside Star’s bedroom window.

Star bolted out of bed and went to the closet, to Patsy’s gun. She’d located the pistol before going to bed, not wanting to be caught unaware if confronted by an animal or something worse. Star reached for the hatbox. In her haste, she dropped the box, the clatter alarmingly loud. She froze.

“What was that?” a second voice asked.

Star’s heart hammered so loud she was sure the boys could hear it.

“Shhh,” someone else said.

“Something’s in there.”

“Come on, let’s go see.”

They were coming in. Star ripped the lid from the box, her fingers closing over the gun. She didn’t grab the bullets out of her aunt’s boot, knowing she could never shoot anyone. Instead, she prayed the sight of the gun would frighten the boys away if it seemed like things were getting out of hand.

What had she been thinking, staying here alone? The O’Briens were close, but not so close they’d hear her scream if she were attacked. Her hands shook as she held the gun. On silent feet, she walked to the bedroom window. The boys stood in a group. One of them dropped a beer can to the ground and crushed it with his foot.

Had Patsy’s place become a hangout for teenagers? They were on the back side of the mobile home. Maybe they hadn’t seen her car, maybe they didn’t even know she was there. Maybe she was overreacting.

Star left the bedroom. At the front door she flipped on the outdoor lights, praying they’d notice the lights, even though it was light outside.

“What the—” one of the kids said.

“Someone
is
in there.”

“I’m outta here,” one of the boys said.

Star edged closer to the kitchen window and sneaked a peek. One of the boys looked right at her, a boy with Cade O’Brien’s face. Holy cow. The guy had one dominant gene pool.

“Hey, it’s a chick,” one of the boys said.

“Let’s go,” the boy with Cade’s face replied.

Star watched as they left the clearing. She counted five teenaged boys as they disappeared into the woods. Once they were gone, the tension began to ease from Star’s body. They were kids, for goodness sake. Kids.

Star set the gun on the kitchen counter. Get a grip, she told herself. One of the boys was obviously Cade’s son. But why was he out here in the middle of the night? Did Cade even know where the kid was? Should she tell him?

Star poured herself a drink of water, forcing the cool liquid down her throat. It wasn’t enough. She needed something stronger to steady her nerves and she wondered if Patsy still kept a bottle of brandy. Star rifled through the pantry, finding the bottle on the top shelf, way in the back. Dust coated the bottle. Star ran it under the tap before twisting the lid off. She poured an inch of brandy in a glass and gulped the amber liquid, coughing as the brandy burned its way through her body, warming her toes.

Slowly, her mind cleared.

The boys were gone, but would they be back? As much as she hated seeing Cade again, telling him about his son was probably the best option. She didn’t want another late night visit. If Cade knew, he was sure to keep a better eye on his son. It seemed his kids ran wild. First Finn, now this older boy. Tomorrow she’d take his casserole dish back and talk to him. She’d want to know if it were her kid running around in the middle of the night.

Star was about to turn out the light and head back to bed when a noise on the front porch startled her. Her eyes darted to the gun the same instant a knock sounded at the door.

Her adrenal glands kicked into overdrive. Had one of the boys come back? She wasn’t cut out for this much late night drama.

“I have a gun,” she called out, “and I know how use it.”

“What the heck? Star?” Cade’s voice said from the other side of the door.

“O’Brien?” She didn’t know whether to be relieved or irritated.

“What’s going on?” The doorknob rattled. “Open the door.”

Star crossed the room and unlocked the door. If his tone was any indication of his mood, he’d probably kick the door down if she didn’t let him in.

Cade stood on the porch, dressed in gray sweats and the same T–shirt he’d worn earlier. His black hair stuck up, as if he’d rolled from bed, run his fingers through it, and hurried over to her place.

“What’re you doing here?” she asked definitely irritated now. “Doesn’t anybody sleep in this town?”

“What’re you doing with a gun?” he countered, pushing his way past her. He glanced around, located the gun, and picked it up. “Are you crazy? This thing is real. Do you even know how to use a gun?”

“Relax, it’s not loaded.” She snatched the weapon from him. “See?” She opened the chamber, giving him a full view of the empty chambers. “Besides, I wouldn’t have needed a gun at all if you kept your kid inside at night.”

Cade frowned. “Brad was here?”

“He looks just like you. Brad was here, along with four other boys. They woke me up. They were out back, drinking beer.”

Cade shook his head. “I heard Brad sneak out, but I didn’t see which way he went. I figured he might head this way. It’s not the first time he’s come here. It’s one of the reasons I want to mow this place down and build the new B & B. This place has become a gathering place for teenagers.”

“What are the other reasons?” Star couldn’t resist asking, sure he wanted to erase her family from his memory.

“What are you getting at, Star?” Cade asked, his tone deadly soft.

Her back stiffened. “Admit it, you’ve never liked us, or more specifically, me.”

The muscle in his jaw jumped. “I had issues.”

“Issues?” Star picked up her glass of brandy.

“Mind if I have a drink?” Cade asked, the question catching her off guard.

“Suit yourself.” Star slid the bottle to him, along with a glass.

Cade splashed the liquid into the glass and downed the brandy in a single gulp.

“That kid’s going to be the death of me.” Cade grimaced as the liquor worked its way through his body.

For a second, Star could see Cade’s pain, feel his upset over his son’s behavior. Heaven help her, he almost seemed human. Almost.

“Raising kids is tough,” she offered. “Believe me, I know.”

“How do you know, Star?” Cade asked. “Do you have kids?”

“Absolutely not,” she said, “and I never will. I raised my three sisters. That was enough for me.”

Cade stared at her, as if he were trying to figure her out. “It’s not the same.”

“It is for me,” Star said. “I’ve been through the teenage rebellion with my sisters. I remember those years. The drinking. The sneaking out. The calls from the police. Been there, done that, not doing it again.”

“Brad is sixteen,” Cade said. “Too young to be drinking.”

“Really?” Star asked, amused. “I seem to remember you indulging once or twice around that age. As I recall, beer made you even meaner.” There, she’d thrown the truth at him. Would he crush her with horrible words? Would he deny he’d been mean to her?

“I deserved that,” he said, the words tired. “I was a mixed up kid who’d lost his mother. I took out my pain on you. I know it’s not an excuse, but it’s all I’ve got. We’re both adults now, adults with adult problems. Can we let the past go?”

“Just like that?” She stared at him, looking for the boy he used to be, but she didn’t see the mean boy from her childhood, instead she saw a man, a man with an awful lot on his plate.