Light the Stars

by RaeAnne Thayne

  She didn't mind the work—it might have been pleasant except for Tanner's crankiness. He whined when she wouldn't let him have leftover pie for breakfast. He wrapped about half a roll of toilet paper around his other unburned hand so both hands would match. He threw a tantrum when she refused to let him take off his bandages to help her wash dishes.

  It was all she could do to remember he was a little boy in pain and in need of comfort.

  Cody was a sweetheart but he stuck to her like flypaper and didn't seem to want to let her out of his sight. That was fine since she could always keep an eye on him, but he also managed to find something to make a mess with wherever they were—unmatched socks in the laundry room, flour and sugar in the kitchen, the rest of Tanner's roll of toilet paper that ended up stretched all the way down the stairs.

  Worn out by lunchtime, she finally promised the boys a walk after they ate if Tanner agreed to wear a sock over his bandage to protect his hand and keep it clean.

  Both boys were thrilled at the prospect of showing her around the ranch, so they ate their peanut-butter sandwiches quickly and even helped her straighten up the Cody mess.

  Outside, they found a perfect October afternoon—sunny and pleasant, with just a hint of autumn in the cool breeze and the dusting of bronze on the trees. The storm of the day before seemed to have blown away, leaving everything fresh and clean.

  Keeping close watch on Tanner racing eagerly ahead of them, she held Cody's hand and let the toddler's short legs set the pace as she enjoyed the fresh air and the beautiful mountain views.

  Up close, the ranch was even more impressive than it had been in the pale early morning light. Everything she saw pointed to a well-run, well-organized operation.

  Wade Dalton hadn't sacrificed aesthetics, either. Instead of what she assumed would be more efficient and inexpensive barbed-wire fences, the ranch had gray-weathered split-rail fence that looked like something out of an old Western movie.

  They walked along the fence line down the long gravel driveway toward the main road, stopping to admire a small grazing herd of horses.

  "Horse, horse!" Cody exclaimed with glee.

  She smiled down at him, charmed by his enthusiasm. "They're pretty, aren't they?"

  "See that yellow one?" Tanner leaned on the middle slat of the fence and pointed to a small buckskin pony. "Her name is Sunshine and she used to be Nat's but now she's mine 'cause Nat has a new horse named Chance. I can ride her all by myself. Want to see?"

  He started to slip through the rails but Caroline grabbed him by his belt loops. "Not a good idea, bud. At least not until your uncle Jake clears it, okay?"

  "But she's my horse! Grandma taught me how to take care of her. She comes when I call her, except she's too big for me to put the saddle and bridle on. Grandma helps me with that part. We ride just about every day."

  "Do you go with your dad, too?"

  Tanner shrugged. "He's usually too busy."

  Too busy to take his son riding? She frowned but before she could say anything, Cody pulled away from her and headed off as fast as his little legs could go. "Hi, Daddy! Hi, Daddy!" he shrieked.

  She turned and found Wade coming out of the nearby barn, carrying a bale of hay in each arm like they were feather pillows. He had his jacket off and his sleeves rolled up and she saw those powerful muscles in his arms barely flex at the weight.

  Caroline didn't like the realization that her mouth had completely dried up, like an Arizona streambed in the middle of the summer.

  Cody collided with his father's legs at a fast run but Wade managed to stay upright. "Hey there, partner. Watch where you're going."

  He dropped the bales to the ground as Cody hugged one long leg. Tanner hurried over to his father, too, and hugged the other leg. She was pleased to see he didn't look annoyed at his sons, just distracted.

  "Hey Dad, guess what? We're showin' Caroline around," Tanner announced. "I showed her Sunshine and told her she's my very own horse. She is, huh, Dad, 'cause Nat rides Chance now. She says Sunshine is a baby's horse but that's not true 'cause I'm not a baby, am I, Dad?"

  He opened his mouth to answer but before he could, Cody tugged on Wade's jeans and held his arms out.

  "Daddy, Cody up!"

  Wade picked him up and immediately Cody started trying to yank off his hat. Wade held onto his hat with one hand and the wriggling toddler with the other. "I didn't expect to see you guys outside today."

  "Caroline says we all needed fresh air and she wanted to see the ranch so we're givin' her a tour. She made me wear a sock on my hand so I won't get a 'fection. That's stupid, huh Dad?"

  He looked at the sock then raised an eyebrow. She knew she shouldn't feel defensive but she couldn't seem to help it.

  That instinctive reaction gave way to surprise when he shook his head. "Doesn't sound stupid to me, cowboy. I think it's a good idea. Remember what Uncle Jake said—you have to keep it clean."

  "I wanted to play in the sandbox but she wouldn't let me do that either," he complained.

  "Tough, kiddo. Right now you need to listen to what she tells you. I know it's hard but it would be a whole lot harder if you don't do everything you can to keep your hand clean. If you got an infection, you might even have to have shots and stuff. Caroline is just trying to help you do what Uncle Jake told you. Instead of giving her a hard time, you ought to be thanking her for looking out for you."

  She knew it was ridiculous but she still felt a soft, warm glow spread through her at his support of her, and she couldn't contain a pleased smile. He studied her for several seconds and she could almost swear he was staring at her mouth.

  Color spread across her cheekbones and she was relieved when Tanner spoke up.

  "Hey Dad! Can we show Caroline the kittens?"

  "If you promise not to touch them. You'll have to just look today because they might have germs."

  "I promise." Tanner took off running. The minute Wade set Cody down, the little boy raced after his brother and the two of them went inside the barn. Caroline followed and was surprised and pleased when Wade accompanied them.

  The kittens were right inside the door, in a small pile of hay that looked warm and cozy. She had expected newborns, for some reason, and was surprised to see the half-dozen or so gray and black kittens looked at least a few weeks old.

  They wriggled and mewed and climbed all over each other.

  "Can Caroline hold one, Dad?" Tanner asked. "She doesn't have a sore hand."

  "If she wants to."

  "I do," Caroline declared, picking up a soft gray kitten with big blue eyes. "You are darling!" she exclaimed.

  "She'll be a good mouser like her mother in a few months."

  She made a face at Wade. "I'd prefer to enjoy her like this for now, all cute and furry, instead of imagining her with a dead mouse in her mouth, thanks."

  "Whatever helps you sleep at night, I guess."

  She laughed and met his gaze over the kitten. He was looking at her mouth again. She could swear it and she didn't quite know what to read into that.

  "Any word from the newlyweds?" he asked.

  Any glow she might have been foolish enough to briefly enjoy in his company, warm or otherwise, disappeared at his abrupt question and the sudden hard look.

  "Nothing," she said. "You?"

  "No. I expected them to check in by now. This isn't like Marjorie. Your father doesn't appear to be the best influence on her."

  She had to bite back a sharp retort that maybe Marjorie was the bad influence on Quinn. But since she knew that was highly unlikely—that Wade was likely in the right since Quinn had spent his whole life perfecting the art of being a bad influence—she kept her mouth shut.

  "I've tried to call my mother's cell phone at least a half-dozen times this morning. No answer."

  "Same goes for Quinn. I guess they've turned them off."

  "Probably because they know they've been selfish and irresponsible to run off in the middle of the night."

 
"Or maybe because they're on their honeymoon and in love and don't want to be disturbed by lecturing children."

  She could only hope.

  "Right." The skepticism in his voice was plain. "I've got to get back to work."

  "Thank you for showing us the kittens." She set the little gray one back with its siblings. "Come on, guys. We'd better head back to the house so we can meet Natalie's bus and get her to Girl Scouts on time."

  Both boys were reluctant to leave the fascinating kittens but they obediently walked out into the afternoon sunshine.

  "Bye-bye, Daddy," Cody said.

  "We're havin' cake and ice cream for your birthday tonight, Daddy, since we missed it yesterday," Tanner chimed in. "Don't forget, okay? We have presents and everything."

  Wade looked about as thrilled by that prospect as the boys had been at leaving the kittens. "Is that really necessary?"

  "Yep," Tanner said.

  "See you at dinner," Caroline said, forcing a smile, then herded her small charges back toward the house.

  * * *

  Wade watched them go, Cody's little hand tucked in Caroline's and Tanner skipping ahead. Why did he suddenly feel so itchy and uncomfortable, like he'd broken open those hay bales and rolled around in them?

  He wasn't sure he liked seeing her with his kids. After less than a day, Tanner and Cody both already seemed crazy about her. They sure didn't obey him so immediately.

  A hundred feet away or so, she stopped abruptly and the three of them bent down to look at something in the dirt—a bug, he'd wager, since the ranch had plenty and Tanner was fascinated with them all.

  He looked at those three heads all bent together: Caroline's soft sun-streaked hair, Cody's curly blond locks several shades lighter and Tanner's darker. His chest suddenly felt tight, his insides all jumbled together.

  He wanted her. The grim knowledge sat on him about as comfortably as a new pair of boots.

  How could he be stupid enough to hunger for a completely inappropriate woman like Caroline Montgomery? He didn't like her, he didn't trust her, but for the first time in two years he felt that undeniable surge of physical attraction to a woman.

  Two years. He hadn't been with a woman since Andrea had died—before that, really, since she'd been pregnant with Cody and hadn't felt great the last trimester.

  He hadn't even considered it until now, until Caroline had shown up on his doorstep.

  Even thinking about this woman he barely knew in the same breath as Andi seemed terribly disloyal and he suddenly missed his wife with a deep, painful yearning.

  In the two years since she'd been gone, the first wild shock of unbelievable pain had dulled to a steady, hollow ache except for moments when it flared up again like a forest fire that had never quite been extinguished.

  Andi should be the one out there showing bugs to the boys and walking with Cody's little hand tucked in hers and kissing Tanner's owies all better. For a moment, the gross unfairness of it cut at him like he'd landed on a coil of barbed wire.

  She'd loved being a mother and she'd been great at it. It was all she'd wanted. She used to talk about it even when they were in high school, about all the kids she would like and how she planned to get a teaching degree first, then wanted to be able to stay home and raise her children.

  She'd been two years behind him in school, Andrea Simon, the prettiest girl in the sophomore class. She'd been barely sixteen when they'd gone on their first date and, from that moment, he'd known she was it for him.

  He picked up the hay bales and headed for the pens, remembering how sweetly innocent she'd looked at his senior prom. They'd dated on and off while she'd finished high school, though he'd been so busy after his father had died, with all his new ranch responsibilities, he hadn't had much time for girls.

  Still, he'd known he loved her from the beginning and he'd asked her to marry him when she was only twenty, on the condition that she finish her education first.

  The day after her college graduation, they'd been married in a quiet ceremony in her parents' garden. Marjorie and his brothers had still been living in the ranch house, so Wade had brought his bride home to the little guesthouse out back where Seth lived now.

  He could still see Andi's delight in fixing up the place that summer before she'd started teaching at the elementary school in town—sewing curtains, painting, refinishing the floors. While he'd been consumed with the ranch, she'd been building a nest for them.

  He cut the twine on the bales and tossed them into the trough, then went back to the barn for a couple more, his motions abrupt as he remembered the heady joy of those early days.

  His wife had been his first and only love—and his first and only lover.

  Something like that would probably make him look pretty pathetic in the eyes of someone sophisticated like Caroline Montgomery, but he didn't care.

  He had loved his wife and would never have dreamed of straying. Their relationship had been easy and comfortable. They had always been able to turn to each other even when hard times had come—the trio of miscarriages she'd suffered in quick succession, the surgery to correct a congenital irregularity in her uterus, then the eighteen months they'd tried without success to become pregnant.

  He had lived through the most helpless feeling in the world watching the roller-coaster ride of hope and heartache she'd gone through each month when she realized she hadn't conceived.

  And then, three years after they'd married, Andi had become pregnant with Natalie. They hadn't told anyone for nearly half the pregnancy, until well into the fourth month when they'd finally allowed themselves to hope this pregnancy wouldn't end in heartbreak.

  Andi had never been happier than she was after Natalie had come along—though with complications—and then Tanner. She'd quit teaching, just as she had dreamed, and had spent her days coloring and singing and looking for bugs on the sidewalk.

  He'd been happy because she had been happy and they slipped into a comfortable, hectic routine of raising cattle and raising kids.

  And then fate had taken her from him and for the last two years he'd done his best to figure a decent way to do both by himself.

  He sighed. Why was he putting himself through this today, walking back down a memory lane covered with vicious thorns on every side?

  Because of Caroline. Because even though it was crazy and seemed disloyal to Andi somehow, he was attracted to her.

  It was only his glands, he told himself, just a normal male reaction to a beautiful woman brought on by his last two years of celibacy.

  She was the first woman in two years to even tempt him. He found that vaguely terrifying. He'd had offers at cattle shows and the like, but had always declined the not-so-subtle overtures, feeling not even a spark of interest in any of those women.

  Something about their heavy makeup and the wild, hungry light in their eyes turned him off, cheapened something that had always seemed beautiful and natural with his wife.

  He had wondered if that part of him was frozen forever. Things had been easier when it had been. But now Caroline had him wondering what it would be like to kiss her, to touch that soft skin. To remember once more the sweet and compelling curves of a woman.

  He wasn't going to find out. His mother would be back soon and everything would get back to normal, to the way it should be without strange women showing up to complicate an already stressful life.

  Until then, he would just do his best to get Caroline out of his mind. Hard, relentless work had helped him survive these last two painfully lonely years.

  It could certainly help him get through a few more days.

  * * *

  Caroline wasn't sure what to think of a man who was forty-five minutes late for his own birthday party.

  "He's not coming, is he?" The resignation in Natalie's voice just about broke her heart.

  "He'll be here," Caroline promised, though even as she said the words she questioned the wisdom of raising potentially false hope in the girl.

 
; "No he won't. He's probably too busy. He's always too busy."

  She shrugged like it meant nothing to her but Caroline only had to look at all Nat had done since her Girl Scout meeting to know her nonchalance was a facade—the festively decorated table, the cake with its bright, crooked frosting and the coned party hats Natalie had made out of construction paper, markers and glitter all told a far different story.

  Caroline wanted to find Wade Dalton wherever he was hiding out on his ranch and give the man a good, hard shake.

  "I'm hungry," Natalie announced after a moment. "I don't think we should wait for my dad. We should just go ahead and eat since he's not coming."

  "I'm hungry, too," Tanner announced.

  "Hungry, too," Cody echoed, but whether he meant it or was just parroting his siblings, she didn't know. It didn't much matter anyway. She had three children here who needed their dinner.

  "We can wait a few more minutes and then I'll call him to see how much longer he's going to be."

  And maybe add a few choice words about fathers who neglect their children, while I'm at it.

  The thought had barely registered when they heard the thud of boots on the steps outside and, a moment later, the door opened and a dark head poked through the opening.

  A dark head that did not belong to Wade Dalton.

  Caroline let out a frustrated breath but her annoyance at finding another man there instead of their father didn't seem to be shared by the children.

  "Uncle Jake!"

  Pique at her father apparently forgotten for the moment, Natalie shrieked and launched herself at the man. He picked her up with an affectionate hug.

  This must be Marjorie's middle son, the family physician, Caroline realized. She studied him as he greeted the children with hugs all around. Jake Dalton was about the same height as Wade but perhaps not as muscular. His hair was a shade or two lighter than Wade's and not quite as wavy, but he shared the same stunning eyes, the same chiseled features.

  She could only wonder at the genetics that produced three such remarkably good-looking men in one family. The Dalton gene pool certainly didn't look like a bad place to swim.