“That’s my boy,” Nick cried, holding out his arms to the child and hugging him tight.

Carlee winced. She did not want that. Heaven help her, she did not want Scotty crazy about Nick, and that was wrong. She had no right to feel that way.

“Carlee, listen to me….”

She had turned her back on him and stood wooden and silent.

“I want to be your friend. I want to spend time with you and your son, because I’m crazy about him. And I promise that what happened the other night will never happen again unless you want it, too. But the way you’ve hardened your heart to romance…to love…it won’t.”

Tell him now, a voice within commanded. Tell him and get it over with.

It was what she should do. But what she could not do.

Dear Reader,

Do I have a sweet lineup for you—just in time for Valentine’s Day! What’s more enticing than a box of chocolates? The answer lies in the next story, Cordina’s Crown Jewel, from New York Times bestselling author Nora Roberts’s CORDINA’S ROYAL FAMILY series. This gem features a princess who runs away from royal responsibility and straight into the arms of the most unlikely man of her dreams!

Another Valentine treat is Jackie Merritt’s Marked for Marriage, which is part of the popular MONTANA MAVERICKS series. Here, a feisty bronco-busting beauty must sit still so that a handsome doctor can give her a healthy dose of love. And if it’s heart-thumping emotion you want, Peggy Webb continues THE WESTMORELAND DIARIES series with Bittersweet Passion, a heavenly opposites-attract romance between a singing sensation and a very handsome minister hero.

In With Family in Mind, Sharon De Vita launches her gripping SADDLE FALLS miniseries. One Valentine’s Day, this newlywed author admits, she wrote a heartwarming love poem to her husband about their first year together! Our next family tale is Sun-Kissed Baby, by Patricia Hagan—a darling tale of a new single mom who falls for the man she thinks is her little boy’s father. This talented author shares her Valentine’s Day dinner tradition with us—making “a heart-shaped meatloaf” and at the end of the pink meal, “a heart-shaped ice cream cake, frosted with strawberry whipped cream.” The icing on the cake this month is Leigh Greenwood’s Undercover Honeymoon, a passionate tale of two reunited lovers who join forces to stay ahead of a deadly enemy and care for an orphaned little girl.

Make sure that you sample every Special Edition delight this month has to offer. I wish you and your loved ones a warm and rose-filled Valentine’s Day (and that box of chocolates, too)!

Best,

Karen Taylor Richman

Senior Editor

Sun-Kissed Baby
Patricia Hagan

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For Barb Ralph, one of my favorite Floridians.

PATRICIA HAGAN

New York Times bestselling author Patricia Hagan had written and published over 2,500 short stories before selling her first book in 1971. With a background in English and Journalism from the University of Alabama, Pat has won awards for radio, television, newspaper and magazine writing. Her hobbies include reading, painting and cooking. The author and her Norwegian husband, Erik, divide their time between their Florida retreat in Boca Raton and their home in Bergen, Norway.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter One

Carlee held Alicia’s thirteen-month-old baby in her arms as she stared through her tears at the grave.

She still found it hard to believe that Alicia was gone. It had happened so fast. One minute they were having their Sunday-morning treat of Danish pastry with their coffee and looking forward to taking Scotty to the beach that afternoon, and the next Alicia gasped, clutched her chest and collapsed. Carlee had instantly dialed 911. After a frantic ambulance ride, Alicia was whisked into the trauma unit, and a little while later a doctor came out to say she had died.

He said it was her heart. Probably a congenital condition she’d had since birth. He asked Carlee if she knew about any heart problems in Alicia’s family. She told him that Alicia had experienced a difficult labor and delivery when Scotty was born and afterward was told a heart murmur had been detected. Alicia had been advised to undergo cardiac evaluation, but she had no insurance and couldn’t afford it. She didn’t think the murmur was anything to worry about, anyway. She’d always been healthy. Besides, she was too excited about Scotty and wasn’t thinking of anything else.

Too bad, the ER doctor had said. Had she been tested, there was a good chance the problem would have been diagnosed and corrected.

Alicia was dead, and Carlee suddenly found herself a mom, because after the paramedics had revived Alicia before loading her into the ambulance, she had asked Carlee to promise she would take care of Scotty if anything happened. Carlee hadn’t hesitated and told Alicia not to worry. Then, while she was standing in the hallway of the emergency room, clutching little Scotty in a daze, the doctor had handed her a slip of paper. Alicia had asked a nurse to write a note declaring Carlee to be Scotty’s guardian and managed to sign it before she slipped away.

The doctor had asked if they were sisters. “Best friends,” she had whispered, not about to confide how their friendship had been forged by the worthless, cheating men in their lives, or how they’d clung together and vowed never again to be so foolish.

Carlee’s parents had divorced when she was only ten. The court had awarded her mother custody, but her father had never paid the court-ordered child-support, and she’d refused to make him. She’d said that was begging and vowed she’d rather die. So times had been hard, and Carlee blamed her mother for her spinelessness and her father for shirking his responsibilities. The year she graduated from high school, her mother remarried and moved to the West Coast, leaving Carlee on her own in Florida. Carlee fell in love, married before she was twenty, and five years later her husband had driven them into bankruptcy and left her for an older woman who could support his extravagant lifestyle.

It was at the time of her divorce that she had met Alicia. They lived in the same apartment complex. Alicia was going to school during the day to study computers while working as a waitress at the Blue Moon Lounge on Cocoa Beach at night. She was also pregnant but didn’t want to talk about the father, and Carlee didn’t pry.

Carlee had been working in the gift shop at Jupiter Orange Groves since high school, but the work was seasonal. Still, she enjoyed it so much that during the rest of the year she took what jobs she could find so she’d be free to return. After her divorce, however, she needed more financial security, and Ben Burns, owner of the groves, had said he would give her a raise and put her to work year-round in the office if she would take a bookkeeping course and learn some computer programs. So when the season ended, she had enrolled in night school and worked at the cosmetics counter of a department store at a local mall.

Times were tough, and Carlee and Alicia decided to share an apartment to cut expenses. They became closer than sisters. Carlee went to Lamaze classes as Alicia’s coach, and she was there for Scotty’s birth. Later she helped with his care and came to love him as though he were her own. Alicia traded baby-sitting with another working mom in the complex, and life seemed to be going according to plan.

Now Carlee was left grief-stricken, wondering how on earth she was going to manage. She had to work and finish school in order to get a promotion, but she could not trade baby-sitting as Alicia had done. That meant she would have to pay for Scotty to go to a day-care center, and she just didn’t have the money. Plus, she had taken on the added responsibility of the funeral, because there was no one else to take care of it, and she had not wanted Alicia buried like a pauper.

Though she hadn’t had time to really think about it, Carlee had already tossed aside the idea of trying to find another roommate. The apartment was small, and the only reason she and Alicia had shared it was that they got along so well. She didn’t want to take a chance on someone else not being so congenial.

“But don’t you worry, little guy,” she whispered in Scotty’s ear as the funeral service ended. “We’ll be okay.” She pulled his blanket more tightly around him. It was spring, but the day was damp and cold, even for the central coast of Florida. They were near the Indian River, and a chilly wind was blowing in from the water.

Scotty awoke and started crying. She popped his pacifier into his mouth, promising to feed him as soon as they got home. Her own stomach gave a hungry rumble, and she couldn’t remember the last time she herself had eaten. Coffee had been her only nourishment in the despair that had wrapped about her since that fateful Sunday only three days ago.

The hospital chaplain, James Barnhill, had offered to conduct the graveside services after learning Alicia did not have a minister of her own. He had been so kind that day in the ER, helping Carlee to fill out the forms, then driving her and Scotty back to the apartment. He and his wife had even come by later with food. He had also suggested that she see a lawyer as soon as possible about the necessary paperwork to have her officially named Scotty’s guardian. The note Alicia had written would start the ball rolling, of course, but there were legal procedures that had to be followed.

As she turned to leave the gravesite, Mr. Barnhill said, “Miss Denton, the other ladies have told me earlier that they had worked with Miss Malden and would like to meet you. Do you have a moment?”

Carlee murmured, “Of course,” and he motioned to the four women standing nearby.

They oohed and ahhed over Scotty, talking about how Alicia was always bringing pictures to show them. Carlee thanked them for sending the floral blanket to drape over the casket. They said they were glad to, for they’d thought the world of her.

Then, as people are prone to do at funerals, they did not linger.

Except for one, Marcy Jemison. “Alicia’s baby is so cute,” she said, gently patting his cheek, then holding her arms out invitingly.

Scotty promptly jerked away, growing crankier by the minute.

Carlee apologized. “Sorry. He would normally go to you, but he’s not feeling well today for some reason.”

“Well, who can blame him? It’s his mother’s funeral. Maybe babies sense things. Who knows? And this was such a shock. I mean, Alicia seemed tired at work lately, but heck, I’ve got a baby, and it’s tough taking care of a kid when there’s no man around. We heard that Alicia gave him to you right before she died. What are you going to do with him?”

It was a blunt question, but Carlee knew the girl meant no harm. “Take care of him the best I can and love him like he was mine. I already feel like he is. I was there when he was born and lived with him ever since.”

“Well, I think you should make his father help. Everybody knows the creep was married, and how he dumped Alicia. I hate men like that. They have their fun and then take off, and to hell with what happens to the woman.”

“He didn’t know she was pregnant when he went back to his wife,” Carlee said stiffly, not wanting to discuss Alicia’s personal life but feeling the need to clarify the situation. “When they met, he told her he was getting a divorce, and when he quit coming around the lounge, she figured he and his wife had probably worked things out. She never told him about the baby, because she didn’t want to cause any trouble.”

Marcy frowned. “That’s what she told you?”

“Yes, and if you’ll excuse me, I need to get Scotty out of this raw weather.”

“Sure. But think about what I said. If he can be found, you ought to make him pay. I wasn’t working with her then, but she never would tell anybody his name.” Her brows rose in question. “Did she ever tell you?”

“Just his first name—Nick. She didn’t like talking about him.”

“Well, that’s a shame, but you know, he might not have been from around here. We get a lot of tourists at Cocoa Beach. Plus technicians from all over the country are always coming in to work at the Cape on temporary assignment, so who knows? But if it had been me, I’d sure as heck have put his feet to the fire for child support.”

Carlee agreed with Marcy but understood Alicia’s reluctance. Her friend had also suffered a painful childhood. Her father had abandoned her mother and gone to live with another woman. But unlike Carlee’s mother, Alicia’s had been so determined to collect child support that she would go to the woman’s door when payment was late and demand it. She dragged Alicia with her, and the older Alicia got, the more humiliated she felt. Then one day the woman opened the door and threw the money in her mother’s face. Alicia had told Carlee, tears streaming down her face, that she would never forget the sight of her mother down on her hands and knees picking up the money from the ground.

Carlee had assured her things were different now. The father could be ordered to pay directly to the court, and if he failed to do so, the court would take care of tracking him down. But Alicia still felt that was demeaning. If a man had to be made to do something, she didn’t want him.

Scotty cried all the way home, and Carlee felt as if the weight of the world was on her shoulders. She’d hardly slept a wink since Alicia’s death, worrying how she was going to manage. She hadn’t been to work in three days, and her manager had said she had to report tomorrow because her cosmetics counter was having a promotion and they would be extremely busy. In addition, she had used up all the absences from class that she was allowed. One more and she would be dropped from the course.

Scotty was still fretting when Carlee tried to give him his supper, but she was so exhausted it was all she could do to keep from falling asleep. Finally she gave up and put him in his crib, then phoned Fran Bremmer, the woman Alicia had swapped baby-sitting with and asked who was keeping her little girl.

“My neighbor. For twenty-five bucks a day. I can’t afford that much longer. Do you want to work out a deal like I had with Alicia?” she asked hopefully.

Carlee told her she wished she could, but she had to go to work. “Do you think your neighbor could keep Scotty tomorrow? If I don’t go in, I’m afraid I’ll lose my job.”

“I’ll give you her number. You can call her and see.”

Carlee was relieved when she called and the woman said she would—but only for that day. She really didn’t have room for another child. Carlee was grateful but knew she would have to find time at work to call around for a baby-sitter.

Seeing Alicia’s things scattered around the apartment was more than she could bear, so after moving Scotty’s crib into her room, she gathered all the reminders and put them in Alicia’s room, then closed the door. Later she would clean everything out, but there were too many other things to be done first.

Going over the bills spread out on the kitchen table made her sick with worry. The funeral home had said she could make payments, but there was also the pediatrician’s bill. Alicia had fallen behind paying it, and Carlee wanted to take care of it in case Scotty got sick. So far he’d been a healthy baby, but there had been routine checkups and vaccinations to pay for.

Alicia hadn’t left any money behind when she died. Her car, several years old, was financed and would be repossessed. A couple of credit cards were maxed out. The rent was due in a few days, and Alicia had spent her share on two recapped tires for the car and promised to make it up with her next paycheck. Carlee was pretty strapped, as well, having had to buy a battery for her old ’93 Jeep. The apartment complex office would work with them but would charge a hefty late fee.

Carlee wanted to cry but knew it would only give her a headache. And that she didn’t need, because it didn’t look as though she was going to get any sleep tonight, either. Scotty had more or less drifted off, but every so often she could hear him fretting, making little thin, whimpering sounds. He was probably coming down with a cold—he seemed to have a stuffy nose. That could mean a trip to the doctor and a prescription. Plus, she’d be stretched thin till payday in order to pay the sitter. And what if a day-care center wanted some kind of deposit or registration fee? How could she take time off work to get Scotty to the doctor, anyway? It all seemed so hopeless.

Drowning in a pit of despair, she couldn’t help but think of Scotty’s father—whoever and wherever he was. If he had worked at Cape Canaveral, he undoubtedly made a good salary and could afford to help. But Alicia had been so stubborn she never once gave a hint about his identity, saying only that he was drop-dead gorgeous, and during the short time they’d been together, she’d fallen deeply in love.

“So he went back to his wifey-poo,” Carlee said aloud in a voice thick with disgust. “Probably to a cozy house with a minivan and an SUV in the driveway, without a care in the world. A real selfish bastard—like all men.”

Then she chided herself for being so judgmental. After all, he didn’t know about Scotty. If he did, he might be willing to help with his support.

Carlee’s eyes started burning, so she pushed the bills aside and went to bed. She was going to have to get up early to feed and dress Scotty. She would take him to the doctor if necessary even if it meant being late to work. As for class tomorrow night, well, maybe she could take him with her, and the instructor would understand. Finally Carlee drifted off to sleep.

The sound came from far, far away, and Carlee fought against it, wanting to sleep on and dream of happier times, like the trips to Indialantic Beach she and Alicia used to take; they’d been planning one the day Alicia died. There, seawater pooled among the coquina rock, making ideal spots for Scotty to sit and splash. They loved it there and…

It was a frightening sound, a thin, pitiful crowing. She sat up in bed and looked about wildly, trying to gather her wits. Turning on the bedside lamp, she was jolted by terror to see it was Scotty making the noises, his little arms flailing in the air as he fought for air. He was choking!

She grabbed him up, pounded on his back and then realized there was nothing stuck in his throat, and still he struggled to breathe.

Frantic, she raced to the phone and dialed 911, then paced about, fighting hysteria as she held Scotty and waited for the blessed sound of the ambulance’s siren. It seemed like hours, but finally the paramedics arrived.

Never had she felt so helpless. They started him on oxygen, then loaded him into the ambulance, telling her to climb in with them. An IV line was started in his wrist, and she listened fearfully as she heard one of the paramedics radio into the emergency room that Scotty was in severe respiratory distress with a heart rate of 160.

“Please, tell me,” she begged. “What’s wrong with him?”

The man answered, “We won’t know till we get him to the ER, ma’am. We’re doing everything we can.”

She watched as medications were injected into the IV line, and she wept to see how tiny and helpless Scotty looked, plastic tubes in his arms, an oxygen mask covering his nose and mouth. When the paramedics had arrived at her apartment, Scotty’s face had been turning blue, but now a little color was returning, and her fear subsided, slightly.

At last they reached the hospital where a team was waiting to wheel Scotty into the trauma room. Carlee tried to follow, but she was told she had to remain outside. When she realized he was being taken into the same room his mother had died in only three days earlier, her knees buckled. Someone helped her to a chair, and when she was able, they took her to fill out the requisite admission forms.

When she was asked to give Scotty’s last name, she felt a rush of panic. She didn’t know what to write. How had Alicia listed him on his birth certificate? Had she named the father or used her own name—Malden? Carlee had never asked—never had reason to. Then she decided it didn’t matter. Not right now, anyway. So she used her own surname and wrote Scotty Denton, and, on the line for parents, listed herself as mother and unknown for father.

The woman in the admissions office didn’t bat an eye over that, but when she learned Carlee did not have insurance, she told her she would have to make a deposit.

Carlee only had the twenty-five dollars in her purse that she had planned on paying the baby-sitter.

The woman shook her head. “We need at least five hundred.”

Carlee wrote a check and tried not to think about using most of the money she had left in the bank. The rest would barely cover the bank’s service charge, and payday was not for another week.

Hurrying back to the ER, she took up her vigil once more. Finally a man wearing green scrubs, paper slippers over his shoes and a stethoscope looped around his neck came out of the trauma room. “I’m Dr. Vance. Your son is going to be fine.”

Carlee bolted to her feet and burst into tears of relief. “Oh, thank God. Thank God…”

“He has croup, but we’ve got it under control. His heart rate is down to 120 and respiration to forty-eight. Those are good vital signs. He’s also awake and alert and taking a bottle without wheezing.”

“Croup.” She mouthed the word. It was familiar, but she could not recall what it meant.

“It’s a viral infection of the upper and lower breathing tract. It can come on suddenly, without warning, most often at night, and sometimes it’s triggered by exposure to cold air.”

Carlee blanched. Cold air. It had been damp and cold at the cemetery. She had not wanted to take him, but wanted to be able to tell him one day that he had gone to his mother’s funeral. “It’s my fault,” she whispered, overcome with guilt. “I had him outside today. I shouldn’t have.”

Dr. Vance was quick to assure her, “Now, now. I said triggered, not caused. He already had the virus, only you didn’t know it. There was no way you could have. So don’t blame yourself. I deal with croup several times a night. It’s one of the few diseases I can think of that can give the impression a child is going to die. Unfortunately some do, but you acted quickly and did the right thing in calling an ambulance, and now the danger is over. We’re going to admit him overnight for observation, though, and keep giving him humidified oxygen and epinephrine every four hours as needed. By morning, I expect all the symptoms to be completely gone. We’ll send him home with a prescription for prednisone and keep him on that for the next four days.

“You’ll have a copy of his records,” he continued, “so you can take them to his regular pediatrician. He’s going to need a follow-up in about a week to make sure he’s doing okay. I suggest you keep him inside, in bed if you can, till he’s completely over this. Being weak, he doesn’t need to be exposed to other children who might have another kind of infection. Just keep a close eye on him.”

“I’ll watch him every minute, believe me,” she promised.

The door to the trauma room opened, and a nurse came out pushing Scotty in a rolling cradle. Carlee thanked the doctor and fell into step beside the nurse.

The woman smiled. “He’s so cute. And such a good baby, too. You can stay with him in the pediatric unit if you like. They have recliners for parents.”

Carlee wasn’t about to leave Scotty’s side. They’d have to drag her out of the hospital if they tried to make her. And she didn’t care about recliners. She would stand on her feet all night if necessary. She didn’t want to take her eyes off him for one second.

The nurses in the pediatric unit were just as kind as the ones in the ER. They brought her a pillow and a blanket and said she should let them know if there was anything they could do to make her more comfortable.

Scotty was sleeping soundly, his breathing even and normal. Carlee watched his little chest rise and fall, and gave thanks that the worst was over. Tomorrow she would buy a book on child care and read it cover to cover so she’d be able to recognize illnesses.

Tomorrow.

She shuddered to think once again of the problems she faced.

Tomorrow she would lose her job, because there was no way she was going to leave Scotty with a sitter until he was completely well. And if she had to drop out of school, a new course wouldn’t start until after it was time for her to report for work at the grove gift shop. There would be no promotion and no raise this year.

She was also going to have to tell the apartment-complex manager that since she had no job, she had no idea when the rent would be paid.

And what about the hospital bill and Scotty’s medicine?

Leaning her head on the crib railing, she had never felt so alone or desperate in her life. There just didn’t seem to be any solution. Asking for welfare or food stamps was out of the question, because she was afraid when it was discovered she was not yet Scotty’s legal guardian, the authorities would take him away from her because of her inability to support him. He would be placed with strangers, and Carlee could almost hear Alicia crying in her grave if that happened.

Carlee was glad Scotty was in a semiprivate room. She did not want to be around anyone else. But then another baby was brought in, a little girl about Scotty’s age, also recuperating from a croup attack. The parents looked as though they had been through the same traumatic experience as she had, weary and worn from the experience.

A nurse pulled the privacy curtain, but Carlee could hear the conversation between the couple.

“I’ll stay with him, honey,” the father was saying. “You go home and get some rest. Then you can come back and pick us up in the morning.”

“Are you sure?” the mother responded, sounding doubtful. “You’ve got to work tomorrow.”

“I can manage. I want you to feel up to taking care of Cindy and not be sleepy. So you run along.”

“But tomorrow night you start that second job at the gas station.”

“And I’ll take a third job if that’s what it takes to support you two. Now go home and go to bed, honey.”

Silence. Carlee knew they were kissing. Then they said their good-nights, and the mother left.

There was a good father, Carlee thought wistfully. The kind she wished she’d had growing up. Who could say that Scotty’s father wouldn’t be like that if he knew he had a son?

If Alicia had told him she was pregnant, things might have been different. He might have agreed to help Alicia financially had he known about Scotty.

So maybe it was time he found out.

Carlee had reached the end of her rope and had nothing to lose by letting him know he had a son.

But first she had to find him.

Chapter Two

Carlee had never been to the Blue Moon Lounge but quickly recognized the decor Alicia had described—potted palms, ficus trees, hanging baskets of ferns and philodendron, and brilliant-colored tropical birds squawking in bamboo cages. Water trickled down a rock wall into a rock-bordered pool swimming with goldfish, and floor-to-ceiling windows offered a spectacular view of the azure sea beyond. Alicia had enjoyed working there, and had made good tips.

Carlee figured the late afternoon was a good time for her to drop by. She intended to be finished before the “happy hour” crowd arrived.

A man wearing khaki slacks and a bright floral shirt greeted her. “May I help you? I’m afraid the bar isn’t open yet.” He gave Scotty a questioning glance. “I hope you aren’t planning on bringing him to Happy Hour.”

“Oh, heavens, no! I was a close friend of Alicia Malden. This is her son, Scotty. I assume you knew her?”

“I sure did,” he said, his tone instantly compassionate. “I’m Jim Martin, the manager. We all thought so much of her, and I want you to know how sorry we are. I wanted to make it to the funeral, but there was something else I couldn’t get out of. I pitched in on the flowers, though, and I know that some of the girls here went.”

“They did, and the flowers were beautiful. Tell me, how long did you know Alicia?” Carlee asked.

“I’ve only been the manager for seven months, so I knew her for that long. I thought she was nice, very hardworking.” He looked puzzled. “Is there something you need from me?”

“No, because you didn’t know her very long, you won’t have the information I’m after. Is Marcy Jemison around?”

He motioned to glass doors opening out to a deck overlooking the beach. “She’s outside taking a breather with some of the other girls before the rush starts.”

She thanked him and made her way out to where Marcy was propped on a railing with two other young women, all dressed in the familiar white shorts and blue blouse that Carlee remembered Alicia wearing.

Marcy squealed with recognition and held out her arms to Scotty. This time, he went to her with a big grin.

“This is Alicia’s baby,” she announced to the others, whirling him around and hugging him. “Isn’t he adorable?” Then to Carlee, “What brings you to the beach?”

Soberly, Carlee replied, “Our conversation at the cemetery.”

Marcy’s eyes went wide. “Oh, wow. That’s great. So you’re really going to nail the guy. Good for you.”

Carlee hadn’t thought of it in quite that way. All she wanted was to ask Scotty’s father to accept his responsibilities. If he refused to believe Scotty was his, then it would be a different story. She wasn’t going to let another man mess with her life if she could help it. Besides, Scotty deserved the support of his father.

She turned to the other two women, who were obviously taking everything in. “Did either of you know the man Alicia was seeing?”

One shook her head and the other explained, “We’ve only been here a month and didn’t know her very well, but we went to her funeral because we liked her.”

“It was so sad,” her friend added. “But we talked about it later, how tired she seemed all the time. She would sit down every chance she got, and I thought she was breathing heavy a couple of times.”

If only Carlee had insisted Alicia see a doctor. Woulda-Coulda-Shoulda, as the taunting saying went. It was too late for regrets now.

Carlee felt her frustration growing. “Well, is there anybody working now who was here when Alicia was seeing her mystery man?”

“Bonnie Handel was,” one of the girls on the railing said with a snap of her fingers. “I heard her say she’s been here since the place opened four years ago. Others come and go, but not Bonnie.”

“Why should she leave?” the other said with a snicker. “She’s the hostess and the cashier and gets to sit on a stool behind the counter all night. She doesn’t work her fanny off like we do.”

Carlee, feeling a wave of excitement, cried, “Where can I find her?”

“Try looking over your shoulder,” Marcy said, handing Scotty back to her.

Carlee guessed Bonnie to be in her mid-fifties. She was attractive with silver-tinted hair and ice-blue eyes framed by shimmering turquoise shadow. The black satin blouse she was wearing with tight white slacks revealed the care she had taken of her figure through the years.

Carlee quickly introduced herself and explained why she had come.

“We can talk in the office.” Bonnie led the way, and once they were inside, closed the door, leaned against the desk and flashed a big grin. “I want you to know I’m glad you’re going to try and track him down. The creep deserves to have to pay through the nose for walking out on that poor girl. If it’d been me, he’d have never gotten away with it, and I told her that.”

Carlee soberly agreed. “I know. I tried, too.”

“She fell for him like a ton of bricks, and I can’t blame her, because he was nice-looking. A real hunk. She lit up like a launch from the Cape the first night he came in. He was in her station, all by himself, and she hovered over him like you wouldn’t believe. He started coming in every night, and I’d see them leave together and knew things were getting hot.

“She’d talk to me about him a little from time to time,” Bonnie continued. “I’m older than the others are, and I’ve always been a good listener, so they come to me with their troubles sometimes. Alicia said he was married, but he was trying to get a divorce—only his wife was giving him a hard time. I told her I’d never known a married man yet who was fooling around that didn’t say the exact same thing. But she said she believed he really cared about her, and even when he quit coming around, she held out hope he’d come back.”

Scotty was getting heavy and starting to fret. Carlee sat down in a chair and poked his pacifier into his mouth. “How long were they together? Do you remember?”

Bonnie pursed her lips in thought, then said, “Oh, it was only a few weeks. She really fell hard and fast. It was something, all right. She totally flipped for the guy.”

“And then he just disappeared,” Carlee said, more to herself than Bonnie. “Maybe she was right in figuring he went back to his wife. She said she wasn’t going to chase after him, that if he really loved her, he’d come back to her on his own.”

“Oh, yeah, right.” Bonnie rolled her eyes. “And he swore he did, too. She told me that. He said it was love at first sight, that he’d never felt like that about a woman before. He had a line, all right.”

“Did she ever tell you his name?” Carlee probed hopefully. “She’d refer to him only as Nick, and once I asked her for his last name, but she wouldn’t say.”

“Well, she said that from the very beginning he made her promise to keep everything between them hush-hush, because if his wife found out, she’d make it that much harder for him to get the divorce. How come you’re looking for him? To get him to take the baby?”

Carlee was taken aback. “No, no, of course not. I love Scotty and plan to raise him myself.”

“Were you related to Alicia?”

“We were best friends, but she wanted me to have him. She signed a paper naming me guardian right before she died, and…” Carlee trailed off, embarrassed to share so much information. All she wanted was the name of Scotty’s father and where to locate him. She didn’t want to confide anything.

Bonnie gave a disgusted snort. “He wouldn’t want him, anyhow. But since that’s not what you’re after, then it can only be money. Good luck there, because after he abandoned her like he did, I can’t see him paying child support unless you want to take him to court. That means paternity testing, hiring a lawyer to go after him. You’re talking big bucks.”

Carlee hoped it wouldn’t come to that. “I just want to find him and give him a chance to do what’s right. After all, he doesn’t even know he has a child and—”

“What’s that you say?” Bonnie stared at her incredulously, hands on her hips. “I don’t think I heard you right.”

Uneasily, Carlee repeated herself.

“Honey, is that what Alicia told you—that he didn’t know she was pregnant?”

With a chill of foreboding, Carlee hugged Scotty a little closer. “She said she never got a chance to tell him, because all of a sudden he just stopped coming around. And like I told you, she wanted him to come back because he loved her, not because he felt obligated, so she didn’t go looking for him.”

Bonnie swung her head from side to side, laughing softly, sadly, then said, “Boy, if pride could be bottled and swallowed, Alicia would have stayed drunk on hers. She was just too ashamed to tell you the truth—she did tell him she was going to have his baby, but he told her to get an abortion. They had a fight over it, right out there on that deck one night after we closed. I know, because I heard every word. It was real smoky in here that night, and I wasn’t feeling good and went out to get some fresh air before checking out the register. They didn’t see me in the shadows.”

Carlee felt sick. “I…I don’t believe it.”

“Believe it, honey, ’cause it’s true. He told her to get an abortion, and she told him to go to hell. And that’s the last anybody ever saw of him around here.”

Now she knew why Alicia had not wanted to talk about asking him for help. He’d been, in her mind, as shiftless and irresponsible as her father. And when he’d so cruelly and callously told her to have an abortion, it had been just as humiliating as when her father’s lover had thrown money in her mother’s face.

It all made sense now, and she was even more determined to find this guy and make him do right by Scotty. She said as much to Bonnie.

The woman nodded with understanding and allowed that she didn’t blame her one bit. “The no-good creep should have to pay through the nose. I hope you do find him.”

“Yeah, right,” Carlee said bitterly as she stood and prepared to leave. “I don’t even know his name.”

“Well, I do.”

She had already turned but whipped about to stare in wonder. “I thought Carlee never told you.”

Bonnie smiled. “She didn’t. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t know it. He was paying his bar tab one night and dropped his wallet. Everything fell out of it. I bent down to help him pick it all up and happened to get a look at his driver’s license. His name is Nick Starke.”

Carlee felt like shouting with joy. “And did you see his address—where he lives?”

“Just the town. He snatched it out of my hand like he didn’t want me to see it. I thought that was funny at the time, but figured maybe he was afraid I’d find out who he was and call his wife and tell her about him cattin’ around with Alicia.”

“So what town? Where?” Carlee was shaking.

“I have no idea where it is, but I remember the name because it’s so weird for Florida—Snow Hill.”

“Snow Hill, Florida. Nick Starke.” Carlee rolled the words around in her suddenly dry mouth. “Starke…” she whispered. “Starke…Groves…”

“What’s that?” Bonnie asked.

But Carlee was halfway out the door. “Thank you so much, Bonnie. You’ve been a great help.”

Carlee’s head was spinning she was so excited. One day at the gift shop, her boss had been talking about all the big orange growers in the state, and now she recalled him saying that Starke Groves was one of the largest and most profitable.

He’d also said it was located in the oddly named town of Snow Hill, Florida. And if Nick Starke had anything to do with Starke Groves, he could well afford to help support his child.

The parking lot was filling up quickly as people getting off work arrived to unwind at Happy Hour. As soon as Carlee backed out of her spot, someone pulled in. Scotty let out a howl, and she realized she’d dropped his pacifier somewhere.

“Oh, baby, I’ll never be able to find another parking place and go back,” she told him, anxious to get home and get on with her search, now that she knew where to look and who to look for.

A voice called, “Hey, wait up a minute.”

She slammed on the brakes and turned to see Bonnie running toward her, waving the pacifier.

When she reached her, she said, “I remember how my kids pitched fits when I lost theirs.”

Thanking her, Carlee started to drive away, but Bonnie stopped her. “There’s something else.”

Carlee tensed.

“Have you thought about the possibility that Scotty’s daddy might try to take him away from you once he finds out he’s his?”

Carlee hadn’t, but was quick to remind her that Alicia signed a paper giving Scotty to her.

Bonnie shook her head. “That doesn’t mean a hill of beans. Not if he can prove he’s the father. Besides, are you the court-appointed guardian, or are you just going on the paper she signed?”

Carlee hated to admit all she had was Alicia’s note.

“Well, maybe you should consider asking him to take him, anyway. You obviously can’t afford to raise him yourself, or you wouldn’t be trying to track the man down.”

Fiercely, Carlee fired back, “He told Alicia to have an abortion, remember? I would never give Scotty to him.”

Bonnie sighed and leaned against the car. “Look, I know none of this is my business, but I just like to try and keep young girls like you from making big mistakes. You try to keep Scotty on your own with the financial problems you’ve got, and sooner or later Child Welfare will take him away from you and stick him in a foster home. Wouldn’t he be better off with his natural father if his father wants him and can take care of him?”

“If he didn’t want him before he was born, he won’t want him now.”

“That’s not necessarily true. When a man is cheating on his wife and he finds out his girlfriend is pregnant, sometimes his first reaction is to tell her to get an abortion. He thinks it will solve all his problems. Things are different now. The baby is here, its mother is dead, and any decent man would want to take over and raise him.”

Carlee slammed her palms against the steering wheel. “If he were a decent man, he never would have walked out on her. He’d have stood by her. So what makes you think I want somebody like that raising a baby I couldn’t love more if I’d given birth to him myself?”

“Because you want the best for him.”

“And who says his father is the best?”

Bonnie shrugged. “Not me. I’m just trying to make you realize that whether you like it or not, Nick Starke might want Scotty, and if he does, you’ll have a hard time stopping him. But on the other hand, you might be doing the best thing for Scotty. After all, Nick didn’t seem like a lowlife. Sure, he breezed in, swept Alicia off her feet, then walked. But that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t make a good father. Think about it. And if you decide you don’t want to take a chance on giving Scotty up, then leave it alone. Don’t go looking for trouble.”

Carlee spent another restless night. Bonnie had given her a lot to think about. And even though she hated to admit it, as much as it would hurt to give him up, the reality was that Scotty belonged with his father if he was fit to have him. And that was where the problems began. If Nick Starke wasn’t fit, she didn’t want him to know Scotty was his, because she didn’t want to fight him for custody. And if he was a member of the Starke Groves family, he’d have the money to hire lawyers to take him from her. As it was, she couldn’t even afford to pay one to go through the necessary legal procedure of having her officially named Scotty’s guardian.

So she was caught between the proverbial rock and a hard place.

The bills were mounting. She had no money coming in, and even if she went out and found a job, she would not get paid right away. And the apartment manager had let her know in no uncertain terms that if the rent wasn’t paid within ten days, he would start the process to evict her.

Close to dawn, she decided to track down Nick Starke. If he were still married, he might not want his wife to know he had fathered a baby by another woman and be willing to quietly pay support and stay out of Scotty’s life. On the other hand, if she checked him out and ultimately came to the conclusion he was a scoundrel, then she would not tell him about Scotty. Times might be tough, but she would manage somehow.

That morning, as soon as she got Scotty fed and bathed, she called information in Snow Hill and asked if there was a listing for Nick Starke. When told there wasn’t, she asked for the number of Starke Groves.

A woman cheerily answered. Carlee took a deep breath and asked, “Does Nick Starke work there?”

“Indeed he does. He’s the owner.”

“The…the owner…,” Carlee whispered in stunned echo. She’d thought he might be a family member, but not the actual owner.

“Would you care to leave a message? He’s not here right now.”

Now that she had found him, Carlee wanted to quickly learn as much as possible. “Can you tell me how to get in touch with Mrs. Starke?”

The receptionist paused, then crisply replied, “There is no Mrs. Starke.”

So much for him quietly paying child support. Now to plan B, which was finding out what kind of person he was.

“I’m Elaine Streeter,” the woman on the other end of the line said. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

When Carlee hesitated, not knowing what to say at that point, Elaine continued, “If you will leave your name and number, I’ll have Mr. Starke call you back. But I should tell you that if this is about a job, he doesn’t do the hiring. You’ll have to see the grove manager, Mike Thurston. But he’s not in right now, either, and he doesn’t hire over the phone. You’ll have to come in and fill out an application.”

Carlee was surprised. “You mean you’re hiring now? But the season doesn’t start for months.” Then she cried, “Valencias! You’re harvesting Valencias.” They were a late-season variety of oranges that matured from March to June, and she had often wished Ben Burns had grown them so Jupiter Groves would have stayed open longer.

“Well, isn’t that why you’re calling?” Elaine Streeter sounded as though she was becoming annoyed. “If not, then what—”

“Yes, yes, of course I am.” It was the answer to a prayer. Working at Starke Groves would give her the opportunity she needed to find out everything she wanted to know about Nick Starke before letting him know Scotty was his.

“Good. Because we’re desperate. The regular migrant workers don’t show up this time of year. They’ve already gone to California, where they’ve got steady work till fall. We’re short of women on the packing lines, but the pickers get paid more, if you think you’re up to that.”

“Of course I am.” It sounded wonderful, but there was Scotty to be considered. “I have a baby that’s a little over a year old. What kind of facilities do you have for child care?”

Elaine sounded pleased to tell her that they probably had the best of any grove in the state. “The Starke family has always taken care of their workers, whether year-round or migrant. We have a wonderful day-care center and one of the caretakers is even an LPN—licensed practical nurse. You won’t have to worry about your baby at all. Just come on in today.”

“It will be tomorrow morning. I have to pack.”

Nick Starke stared at the stack of mail on his desk. He hated being inside doing paperwork, preferring to be in the groves. He enjoyed the whole process of growing fruit, from standing on a ladder and handpicking to watching the oranges roll along the assembly line for grading and stacking in boxes. He was a grower through and through and could not imagine any other kind of life.

Elaine peered through the open door to say she was going to lunch. “I’m going to Newt’s place on the river. The word’s out he’s got fresh alligator tail. Want me to bring you a basket?”

“Do I ever.” He loved the delicacy, which tasted like fried chicken but was sweeter, more succulent, and not nearly as greasy.

“Oh, by the way—some woman called this morning, and when she found out you weren’t here wanted to know how she could get in touch with Mrs. Starke. I told her there was no Mrs. Starke.”

He frowned. He and Gina had been divorced almost five years. He didn’t even know where she was and no longer cared. It was strange that any of her friends, old or new, would try to contact her at the groves. “Did you get her name?”

“No. Actually, she was looking for a job. Maybe she thought your wife would hire her since you weren’t around. I told her she’d have to talk to Mike.”

“Good.” He took out his wallet and gave Elaine the money for his lunch.

When she left, he leaned back in his chair, propping his feet on the edge of the desk.

Hearing that someone had asked to speak to his wife stirred up memories of Gina.

Bad memories.

He had met Gina in college, when he was attending Florida State to get a degree in agriculture. She was two years younger and studying to be a teacher, but when his father passed away right before Nick graduated, she bluntly said she wanted to marry him, quit school and help him with the family business. He was not resistant to the idea. Gina was pretty, and the sex was great. His mother had died a few years earlier, and he had not looked forward to going home to live alone.

But there was an obstacle—a painful, embarrassing secret he had kept to himself till the time he felt he should tell Gina. The sad news was that he could not father a child. Childhood mumps had left him sterile. But she said it didn’t matter. They could always adopt.

And so they had married and everything had been fine—for a couple of years. Then Gina began to complain about living in a rural area. She didn’t like the family home and complained it wasn’t modern enough. Nick’s grandfather had built it more than fifty years ago, and though it had withstood savage winds from several hurricanes, Nick agreed that maybe it was somewhat old-fashioned. So he’d given her free rein to redecorate, and she’d spent a fortune doing so, even putting in a swimming pool.

But it hadn’t been enough. She was still miserable and began spending more and more time in Orlando, shopping, she said, with girlfriends from college days.

Then when they had been married about four years, Gina dropped a bombshell. She had been having an affair, had fallen in love with the man and wanted a divorce so she could marry him. Fool that he was, Nick asked her to reconsider, suggesting they go to a marriage counselor and try to work things out. Nick was not the sort of man to take marriage vows lightly.

Gina quickly dashed all his hopes and smashed his heart into little bits and pieces with the news that she was pregnant. To twist the knife, she cruelly reminded him that all the marriage counseling in the world couldn’t change the fact he couldn’t father a child.

At least he could be grateful Gina had not taken him to the cleaners financially. Florida was a no-fault divorce state, and, ordinarily, she would have been entitled to half of everything. But all of his assets had been premarital. They owned nothing jointly, so there had been nothing to divide. Still, she had asked for a mind-staggering sum of alimony. But when it was revealed that she was pregnant by another man, the judge had denied her.

Nick swiveled in his chair to look out the window at the rows of orange trees stretching as far as the eye could see. Perfectly straight lines like soldiers at attention.

Maybe he was a fool, but he just hadn’t felt right about Gina leaving with nothing when he had so much. So he had written her a generous check, which she had snatched from his hand and walked out without a word. He hadn’t heard from her or seen her since.

He had thrown himself into his work, and there had been plenty of it. Once in a while, he dated but never let things go too far. Never again did he want to feel the crushing humiliation of having a woman cut him down because of his sterility. So he tended the groves, went deep-sea fishing in his boat now and then, read a lot and told himself he was content with his life.

After all, being lonely was better than having another woman make him feel like less of a man.

Chapter Three

By the time Scotty’s things were loaded into the Jeep, there was scarcely enough room for Carlee’s few belongings. Alicia had worked almost up to her due date to make enough money to buy him everything she thought a baby might need. The crib had to be left behind in favor of the easier-to-pack portable crib, along with the playpen, but Carlee managed to cram in the bouncing swing he loved, along with the high chair.

She only hoped Elaine Streeter had not been exaggerating about Starke Groves’ facilities for their migrant workers being so nice. It made her cringe to think of some of the conditions she had heard about—outdoor plumbing, windows with no screens, broken-down furniture and sparse appliances. Mr. Burns made a special effort to make his workers comfortable, but even he did not provide day care with an LPN in charge. That sounded too good to be true, especially when she found it hard to believe Nick Starke cared about children in general. Knowing that he had been aware of Alicia’s pregnancy all along filled Carlee with so much anger and resentment she wondered how she could even be civil to the man.

But she would manage, of course. After all, Scotty’s welfare, as well as his future, was at stake here, and for his sake, she wouldn’t blow it.

Give the man the benefit of the doubt, a part of her argued. Get to know him before forming an opinion.

Yeah, right, another side fired back. He was just one more selfish, self-centered man with the morals of a tomcat, possessing the same lack of conscience as her father and Alicia’s father had. And, Carlee grimaced, her ex-husband, as well.

With Scotty sleeping soundly in his car seat, she headed north up Interstate 95 to Titusville, then west to the sleepy little town of Snow Hill near Lake Harney. The trip took about an hour. Very convenient for Nick Starke to drive down to Cocoa Beach to see Alicia. Had she not gotten pregnant, he’d probably still be seeing her and making her think he was still having a difficult time getting a divorce.

Several times she started to turn back, afraid she was wasting her time. After all, a man who had done what Nick Starke had was, in all likelihood, not going to turn out to be the answer to her problems. But she had nowhere else to go and couldn’t have stayed where she was, not when she was being evicted. At least now she would have a job and a good place to leave Scotty while she worked.

But most of all, it was just something she felt driven to do, because she hated to see another man walk away from his moral and financial obligations.

Though she had been up before dawn, it had been almost noon before she was finally ready to leave. It felt strange not having anyone to say goodbye to. The only friend she’d had was Alicia. She did, however, take time to call Mr. Burns and let him know she was planning on returning to work for him when the season opened again. She regretted having to say she’d had to drop out of school. She told him about Scotty, and he said he understood and commended her for taking him as her own. He assured her that her old job would be waiting in the fall, and he’d also find room for her in one of his migrant cottages. She did not tell him where she was going, and he politely did not ask. There were meetings from time to time for citrus growers in the state, and he knew them all. She didn’t want to chance him saying anything to Nick Starke about her. Or worse, mention how noble he thought she was to agree to raise her girlfriend’s baby. Carlee intended to control any information given out about Scotty and her.

She did not have to ask for directions to Starke Groves. It was advertised on billboards all along the interstate and even more so as she drove across a bridge and into Snow Hill.

Once she turned off the main highway, a winding road led the way between lines of orange trees as far as the eye could see. At the end was a lovely two-story white frame house that looked like something out of Gone With the Wind, except there were towering royal palms swaying in the breeze instead of sheltering oaks.

The road curved around as she followed signs pointing the way to the office and the grove operations. Reaching a large clearing among the orange trees, she passed long, open-sided, tin-roofed structures that housed the processing belts and packing area. A paved road led in another direction, and she realized she had taken the tourists’ way in.

The gift shop caught her eye. It had a garden in front, bordered by a quaint two-foot wall made of coquina rocks with seashells embedded in concrete on top. Overhead, flowering baskets hung from a wire ceiling. There were benches and fountains, and she made mental notes to take back to Mr. Burns about how he might redecorate his shop.

She parked under a shady palm and took Scotty inside with her. Her first priority should have been reporting to the office, but she couldn’t resist checking out the gift shop first.

It was larger and better-stocked than the one where she had worked but much of the merchandise was the same—orange marmalade, honey and candies, as well as bags of fruit that customers could take with them or have shipped anywhere in the world.

Scotty saw a stuffed teddy bar holding a tiny jar of orange honey, and he reached for it. “No, no, sweetie.” She kissed his chubby little hand. “Even if I could afford it, there’s nobody around here to sell it to us. Evidently they don’t open this place when it’s off-season.”

“I’m afraid you’re right. We’re closed.”

She whipped about to see a man standing in an open doorway to the side that she hadn’t noticed. Beyond was some kind of huge storage area. Starke Groves was quite an operation, all right.

But as she focused on the man who’d spoken, everything else faded away.

He was tall and looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties. His eyes were a deep greenish blue, like the ocean above its darkest depths, and they seemed to glimmer with a focused strength. His sandy-blond hair was cropped close, the bill of his cap playfully reversed. And as he appraised her, the play of a smile on his lips revealed the dimples in his cheeks.

He was wearing white shorts, and his legs were long and muscular. A tank top revealed bare arms and shoulders that showed he either worked out or did a lot of hard work. His dark tan glistened with perspiration, and as he turned to close the storage-room door, she couldn’t help noticing he had a nice behind.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “But the door was unlocked, and—”

“I know. I came in to do some inventory and forgot to lock it.” He cocked his head to one side, and the smile widened, deepening the dimples she could not help finding so delightful. “Is there something I can help you with? We don’t keep the shop open this time of year, but if you want some oranges, I can fix you up with some Valencias that were just picked this morning.” He patted Scotty’s downy head. “He’s cute. How old is he?”

“Almost fourteen months. His name is Scotty.”

“He’s probably walking and getting into everything.”

“No, he’s crawling and into everything. He hasn’t started walking yet. I think it’s because he’s so chubby. He tries to stand on his fat little legs and falls down.”

“Give him time. He looks like he’s going to be a strong little fellow.” He kept looking at Scotty as he asked, “Did you want to buy some of the Valencias?”

“No, thank you. Actually I’m here to see about—” Just then Scotty’s eye caught the bear again, and he strained to get closer. She pulled him back, and he started crying.

The man laughed. “He really wants that bear.”

“Well, he can’t have it. He’d get that honey all over him.”

“Not if you don’t open it.” He took the bear from the shelf beneath the cash register where it had been displayed, obviously to entice the small fry as Mom and Dad paid for their other purchases. He untied the gold cord that held the little jar of honey in place and set it on the counter, then handed the bear to Scotty.

Scotty gave a delightful squeal, but it was nothing compared to his scream of protest when Carlee promptly took it away from him. “I’m sorry, but he can’t have it.” She had already seen the price tag and could not afford to spend twenty dollars on a toy no matter how badly he wanted it.

Scotty cried all the more loudly, kicking his legs and waving his arms in the throes of a temper tantrum. “I’m sorry,” she apologized again, embarrassed. “It’s time for his nap and he’s cranky.”

“But it’s all right. He can have it as a gift.”

She shook her head, not about to accept something from a stranger. “Thank you, but no.” She saw the clipboard he’d been carrying and brightened. “You must be Mr. Thurston. I talked to a woman in the office—Miss Streeter—and she said you all were hiring pickers, and that’s why I’m here.”

“Well, we are, but—”

“I’ve had lots of experience working in groves,” she interrupted, shifting Scotty, who had calmed down, so she could hold out her hand to shake the man’s hand and introduce herself. “Mostly I worked in the gift shop, but I’d rather be a picker, because I can make more money.

“And she also said there were nice facilities for the workers,” she rushed on, excited because he seemed so nice, but then so did everything else about Starke Groves so far.

“That’s true. We have one-and two-bedroom cottages down by the lake, and the child-care center is air-conditioned, but—”

Again, in her enthusiasm, she cut him off. “Well, if you will point me to the office, I’ll fill out my application, and as soon as I get Scotty settled in at the day care, I’ll be ready to go to work. Just point me to where they’re picking.”

His gaze flicked over her but settled on Scotty once more, who continued to fret a little over the bear. He held out his arms for him and asked, “May I?”

Before Carlee could respond, Scotty lunged for the stranger as though aware he wanted to give him the bear.

“Oh, he’s a big fellow. A fine little boy.” He hugged him, then said, “I’m afraid we’re through picking for the day, but you can start first thing tomorrow. We pay twelve dollars an hour, more if you’re real fast.”

Carlee swallowed a cry of delight. She didn’t want to let on it was more money than she’d ever made before.

“We can use your husband, too, if he’s looking for work.”

She murmured she was not married and reached for Scotty. “I guess I’d better go fill out those papers now.”

“Are you sure you won’t let me give him the bear as a welcome present?”

Scotty was sniffling, which pulled at her heart. The man probably got a huge discount, so she said okay and thanked him. He handed the bear to Scotty, whose whole face lit up.

“The office is that way.” He pointed to another door. “I’ll be in to talk to you as soon as you give Elaine all the information she needs. Then I’ll have someone take you to your cottage and show you around.”

Carlee was thrilled to think how much money she would make and not have to pay rent. She would also be in a perfect position to secretly check out Mr. Nick Starke.

“We get started around six,” he said, ushering her to the office door. “We don’t have a lot of workers now, but there’ll be somebody around to help you unload your car. I’ll come by later to see if there’s anything you need.”

He started to say something else, but Carlee wasn’t listening, quickening her pace to get into the office and start the ball rolling to put her on the payroll.

Nick Starke stared after her in somewhat of a daze. She was pretty, vivacious, energetic, and her baby boy was adorable. It was a shame that she was obviously on her own. He had seen her glance at the price tag on the bear as he came out of the storage room and how she’d winced and quickly put it back. Learning she wasn’t married told him all he needed to know about her financial situation. Likely as not she wasn’t getting any support from her son’s father. He could tell she was trying to hide her excitement when she heard how much she would make.

Well, she’d come to the right place. Like his father and grandfather before him, Nick took pride in paying good wages for good workers. Providing much better living facilities than any other grove in the state kept the same ones coming back year after year. But Valencia season could not compete with California crops this time of year, regardless of the benefits he offered.

She had left the door to the office ajar, and he could see her at Elaine’s desk, holding Scotty as he happily snuggled the teddy bear. Her chestnut-colored hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and her hazel eyes were glowing. She was wearing a stretch blouse that accented her small but shapely breasts and tiny waistline. Her khaki shorts hugged her hips and showed off her long, tanned legs. Carlee Denton, he decided, was not only pretty, but strong and spirited. Whatever life had handed her she would face, which, for the moment appeared to be raising a child alone.

Nick would try to make things as easy for her as possible, but only because of the baby. He was not about to open himself up for possible heartache again.

Not if he could help it.

He returned to the stockroom and finished the inventory, then went to the house and took a shower. He put on clean shorts and a light cotton shirt. Normally he didn’t walk around in tank tops and ball caps, but there was no air-conditioning in the stockroom. So maybe it was just as well Carlee had been so enthused over her new job that he hadn’t been able to get it across to her just who he was. Hopefully she wouldn’t remember how sloppy he’d looked.

She was just finishing up the paperwork when he got to the office. Elaine was holding Scotty for her, bouncing him on her knees.

Carlee saw Nick and smiled. “You people are going to spoil my baby, I can see that.” She turned to Elaine. “Mr. Thurston gave him that bear he refuses to let go of and wouldn’t let me pay for it.”

Elaine’s brows lifted in surprise. “Mr. Thurston?” She laughed. “No, no, dear. This is Mr. Starke, the owner.”

Carlee’s hand froze. She’d been filling out the W-4 federal tax withholding form.

Mr. Starke.

Nick Starke.

The owner.

Alicia’s lover who had abandoned her in her time of need.

Scotty’s father who had wanted him aborted.

Hypocrite, liar and cheat.

These were the words that fired through her brain like bullets.

Her fingers began to shake, and she dropped the pen she was holding.

It fell to the floor, and Nick quickly crossed the room to pick it up for her, sharing Elaine’s laugh as he did so. “I tried to tell you who I was, but you were too focused on the job to hear anything else. I’m really glad to meet you and happy you’re going to be with us for a while.”

He turned to Elaine. “Have you assigned them to a cottage yet? Be sure she gets one by the lake with a new air conditioner. We’re in for some hot weather soon, and it will be nice for Scotty. He’s a cute one, isn’t he?”

Carlee wasn’t listening, unable to hear beyond the roar of rage that swept her from head to toe.

Nick didn’t notice. He was playing with Scotty again.

Carlee somehow managed to finish the paperwork, then gave it to Elaine, all without looking at Nick Starke. When listing her previous experience, instead of writing down Jupiter Groves, as a precaution she listed one in another part of the state that she knew had gone out of business. After all, Nick Starke might not show his true colors until she revealed the truth about Scotty. If that happened, she wanted to be able to say to hell with it, leave without warning and drop out of sight.

“Well, if you’re done,” he said when she handed the papers to Elaine, “I’ll go with you to your cottage and make sure it’s okay. You can follow in your car, and I’ll carry your things in.”

She tried and failed to smile or put any warmth at all in her voice as she responded, “That won’t be necessary, Mr. Starke. I can find the way. I’ve imposed enough on you for one day. And I apologize for not giving you a chance earlier to tell me who you were.”

He frowned slightly, puzzled by her sudden cool demeanor, and then decided she was just embarrassed and waved away her protest. “Nonsense. I’m glad to help. Besides, when I was on my way over here from the house, I saw the other workers leaving. Today is payday, and they always head for town.”

He took Scotty from Elaine, and Carlee bit her tongue to keep from protesting. He was just showing off as people did around babies, thinking it made them look so wonderful. And as she watched him, she ached to scream that he was cooing over the very baby he hadn’t wanted.

Yielding to sudden impulse, she asked, “Mr. Starke, how many children do you have?”

And was it her imagination, or did he wince ever so slightly as he turned his head before woodenly answering, “I don’t have any.”

She fell into step behind him as he carried Scotty outside into the warm Florida sun. “Well, maybe you will one day,” she said breezily, congratulating herself on recovering so quickly from the shock of discovering who he was. “I’ll bet you and your wife want to fill that big house with kids.”

“I’m not married.”

“Oh.” She managed to sound surprised. “A bachelor? You’ve never even been married?”

They reached her car, and he opened the door, then handed Scotty to her to buckle in the car seat. “I was once. I’m divorced.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, managing to sound sincere.

“It’s all right. It was a long time ago.”

Longer than twenty-two months? she burned to ask. Because that was when he had been romancing Alicia while claiming to be going through a divorce.

She decided it was necessary to be downright nosy. “So how long has it been?” Then, because he gave her a strange look, she went on to explain, “I only ask because I’m wondering about myself. I mean, I haven’t been divorced very long, and I was wondering, you know, how long before you really get over it.”

“For me it’s been five years, but I learned right away that life goes on, and you have no choice but to not look back.”

Carlee finished buckling Scotty in, glad that Nick had walked away to get in his own car, because right then she felt like slapping his face, dimpled grin and all.

Now she despised him all the more to know he had been divorced when he met Alicia. He had lied so he could tap-dance around any notion she might have had about getting married. He was nothing but a rich playboy, out to have a good time, use women till he tired of them—or got them pregnant—then move on to new conquests.

But despite her dislike of the man, Carlee could understand why Alicia had fallen for him so hard and so fast. He was not only attractive, he was smooth as French silk. He cleaned up good, too. When she met him in the gift shop, he’d been appealing in a rugged sort of way. Then later, in the office, when she was finally able to look at him through her red haze of fury, he was pure eye candy.

He led the way down a gravel road in an old Volkswagen that had been converted into a kind of beach buggy. Carlee sneered to think he probably kept a Porsche or two locked in his garage.

As she followed close behind him, she could relax a little; she didn’t have to worry that he might put up a fight about paying child support. He could easily afford it, plus she had seen the Chamber of Commerce plaques on the office walls, along with plaques for contributions to the community. There were also a few trophies for a Little League softball team that Starke Groves apparently sponsored. He would definitely not want to risk a scandal. And once paternity was established, he would quietly do his duty.

Scotty was making happy noises as he chewed on the teddy bear’s ear. Carlee wanted nothing more than to toss the toy out the window. But that would be immature and silly of her. Besides, she had to try to keep an open mind regarding Nick Starke. So she would hide her resentment of him and do what she had come to do.

Nick kept glancing in the rearview mirror. There was something puzzling about Carlee Denton. One moment she seemed friendly, but the next she was cold as ice. And then there were those personal questions. Normally all workers cared about was how much money they would be making and for how long. They didn’t care about him or his life. But he reasoned that Carlee was not the typical migrant worker he was used to being around, because something told him she was smart and ambitious, and picking oranges was not going to be her life’s work.

She had mentioned being recently divorced. She was probably spinning her wheels, passing time, till she decided what direction she wanted to go in her life.

It saddened him to see someone in her situation, especially with a child, and wondered where her ex-husband was and whether he kept in touch to see his boy. God knows, if he’d had one with Gina, he would never have relinquished his rights as a father. Maybe some men could just walk away and never look back, but not him. And he didn’t like to think it was only because he couldn’t have a child of his own when he wanted one so badly. It was just the right thing for a man to do.

He parked the beach buggy next to an empty cottage that had recently been painted and a new air conditioner installed. While Carlee was getting Scotty out of her car, Nick went inside to make sure everything was as it should be. The same migrants returned year after year because the facilities and pay were the best to be had in the citrus-picking industry. They appreciated that fact and took care of things, so there was little maintenance to be done off-season. But some of the buildings were getting old, and refurbishment was needed.

He walked through the cottage and by the time he returned to the porch, Carlee was coming up the steps. “There’s a slight smell of paint left, but I opened all the windows to let some fresh air in. Come on, I’ll give you a tour.”

Again he held out his arms to Scotty, who went to him eagerly.

Carlee pasted on a smile as though pleased he was so fond of her child.

“It’s small but comfortable,” Nick said as they stood in the tiny living room. There was a sofa that folded out into a bed, an upholstered chair and a television with rabbit ears. “The reception is pretty good from Orlando. I wish we had cable back here, but it would be too expensive, and nobody really has time to watch TV when we’re working the regular season.”

He led her through the other rooms. The kitchen had a table and four chairs, a small refrigerator and stove. There were twin beds and a dresser in one bedroom, and a double bed and chest in the other. “I can have the furniture moved out of the one where you want to set up Scotty’s crib.”

“He doesn’t have a crib. Just a portable one, and it’s small. It can go next to my bed.”

“Well, we can get him a crib. Someone left one behind last season and—”

“No. Don’t trouble yourself. We won’t be here but a few months. We can get by. But thanks, again.”

“Well, okay, it’s up to you. I’ll go get your things.”

Again she was quick to protest. “I’d rather do it myself, really. I packed the car and know where everything is.”

“If you’re sure…”

She nodded. “I’m sure.”

He did not insist. Her puzzling wariness had returned. Maybe she was uncomfortable accepting help from her employer.

He left her after saying he’d stop by later to see if she needed anything. That was met with yet another wooden thanks-but-no-thanks.

As he drove back to the office, Nick decided maybe Carlee Denton was just an independent sort, determined to make it on her own and didn’t want anything smacking of pity or charity. After all, she hadn’t wanted to accept the teddy bear as a gift for Scotty.

Scotty.

Nick really liked that little boy, even though holding him, feeling his chubby little arms around his neck, made him sad to think that he’d never have a son of his own. But maybe one day, with the right woman, he could adopt, and—

Forget it, a voice within warned. You’ve been there, done that. And the bad memories are like a souvenir T-shirt wrapped around your heart.

“Well, how did she like the cottage?” Elaine asked when he walked into the office.

“She seemed to like it. She didn’t have much to say. I think she’s tired. The little boy’s sure cute. How’s the day care doing, by the way?”

“I think there’s six children there now, enough to keep it operating.”

He gave her an incredulous look. “We’d have to keep it open even if there was only one child, Elaine. Migrants know they can always depend on having good care for their children here.”

“I know. It just seems expensive sometimes during Valencia season when there aren’t many here.”

“Well, regardless, we’re keeping it open. Anything important in the mail?”

“No, but the Sheriff’s Department in Brevard County finally got around to sending back your wallet and credit cards they retrieved from the guy who stole them.” She handed him a large brown envelope.

Amazed at how long it had taken, he dumped the contents on the desk. There wasn’t much. Just the wallet, his driver’s license and a couple of credit cards. Things he had replaced right after the theft.

Elaine said, “There’s also a letter apologizing for the delay. How long has it been? Two years?”

“Almost. I was at that Growers’ Association meeting in Cocoa Beach they have every year in June.” He frowned to remember. “The guy that picked my pocket sure had a good time using my credit cards till I could get all the companies notified and put a stop to it.”

Elaine nodded to recall. “It was sad what happened to him, though.”

Nick put everything back in the envelope. “Yes, it was.”

He went into his office and tossed the envelope on top of a file cabinet. He had some paperwork to catch up on and then later he wanted to make sure Carlee had settled in all right. Maybe if Scotty wasn’t napping, she would let him take him down to the lake to see the ducks.

And even though every instinct told him to back off, Nick knew he also wanted to see Carlee again.

Chapter Four

Carlee braked to a stop in front of the day-care center. She had overslept and was running late. Nick had said they started work at 6 a.m., and it was almost that now.

A young woman who looked to be the same age as Carlee saw her from a window and was waiting when she carried Scotty to the door.

“Hi, I’m Becky Ivy. You have to be Carlee Denton, and you—” she caught Scotty’s little hand and kissed it “—must be Scotty. I am so glad to meet you and your mommy.”

“And we’re both happy to meet you, Becky.” Carlee followed her inside and looked about. It was a very nice room, decorated in blue, white and yellow with cheery animal-print curtains hanging at the windows. There were little tables and chairs, playpens and cribs, and sleeping pallets stacked in a corner awaiting nap times. Toys of every description and suitable for different age groups were arranged neatly on shelves or spilling out of wooden chests.

Becky explained, “We have a kitchen where we prepare snacks and lunches, two bathrooms, and two small rooms in case a child is sick and needs extra attention. I have a girl who comes in around lunchtime to help me. We don’t have a full house now, as you can see.” She indicated two boys and a girl playing in a corner. They looked to be about two or three. “If we did, there would be an attendant for every five children. Mr. Starke’s rules.”

Carlee was satisfied that the facilities were as nice as she’d expected. She also liked Becky. She was neatly dressed in Bermuda shorts, a crisp white blouse and a blue smock appliquéd with dancing bunnies. She was friendly, cheerful and seemed very mature and capable.

As if she could tell Carlee was sizing her up, Becky volunteered, “I’m a licensed practical nurse, and I studied child development at Florida State for a few years before deciding to go into nursing. Only, I found once I had my license, I missed being around children. I was lucky enough to get this job, and I can assure you that you don’t have to worry about leaving Scotty with me.”

“No, no, of course not.” Carlee didn’t want her thinking she was overprotective. She was just worried that being left with a stranger was going to upset Scotty. Other than Fran Bremmer, she and Alicia were the only ones who had ever looked after him, and now he was clinging to her tightly and staring at Becky with fearful eyes.

“Come on,” Becky said. “I’ll show you around.”

Carlee decided that perhaps Scotty would calm down if she didn’t leave right away.

At Becky’s suggestion, she put him in a playpen with some toys, which instantly caught his attention.

“Is there anything I need to know?” Becky asked. “Is he allergic to anything?”

“Not that I know of.” Carlee showed her the bottles of formula in his diaper bag. “He’s really a good baby. You shouldn’t have any trouble, but if you do, I guess you’ll know where to find me.”

“Sure. I can call the office, and they’ll send for you, but don’t worry. He’s going to be just fine, and after you leave I’ll see if he wants to play with the other toddlers.”

Carlee told her he would probably be better off in the playpen. “He hasn’t started walking yet. I think it’s because he’s so chubby.” She felt a stab of sorrow to remember Alicia saying that the day she died. “He can’t even stand alone for more than a few seconds.”

“Well, don’t be concerned about it. One of these days you’ll come in from work and find him running all over the place.”

Carlee remembered Alicia saying she wanted to be there when Scotty took his first steps, and now Carlee knew how she felt.

“Come on. Let’s take the tour. It won’t take long.” She led the way through the kitchen with its gleaming countertops and the very latest in appliances. The two private nurseries were cozy and clean, as were the bathrooms.

Becky motioned Carlee to follow her out a side door where the other toddlers were playing. “As you can see, we have every imaginable kind of play equipment. Mr. Starke insists on the best.”

Thinking she might be able to find out more about Nick from Becky, Carlee asked, “How long have you been here?”

“Almost a year.”

“And you like everything about it? Including Mr. Starke?”

“Oh, yes. The pay is good, and the working conditions are great. And Mr. Starke is wonderful. Nice-looking, too, isn’t he?” Her eyes twinkled. “Too bad I’m married, but then, I’ve heard he doesn’t date much. Now and then he might take someone to a charity benefit dance in Orlando. The family has always been involved in things like that, but he’s a workaholic. With him, it’s all about the groves.”

“Strange. You’d think with his money and position in the community he’d be having parties all the time.”

“Well, I think when he was married his wife threw a lot of parties. At least that’s what I’ve heard.” Becky flashed a teasing grin. “Why do you ask? Aren’t you married?” Her gaze lowered to Carlee’s ring finger.

Carlee glanced about the yard, suddenly self-conscious. “No, I’m not, and I was only curious about Mr. Starke since I’ll be working for him. I’m certainly not interested in him. He’s not my type.”

“Oh. Well, you probably won’t see much of him. Mike Thurston is the foreman, and he’s real nice. I met him at the end-of-season picnic a couple of months ago.” She turned and headed back inside. “I’d better get back to the kids.”

“And I’d better get to work and leave you to yours.” Carlee went to the playpen and leaned down to kiss the top of Scotty’s head. Engrossed in his toy, he paid her no mind. “So much for him crying when I leave,” she said, laughing.

Becky picked up his arm as Carlee walked away. “Wave to Mommy, honey. Tell her bye-bye.”

Mommy. It still sounded strange whenever anyone called her that. But she would get used to it, just as she was becoming accustomed to having total care of Scotty. Sure, she had helped Alicia from the beginning, but that wasn’t the same as being the primary caregiver. It felt more natural though, with every passing day. And she liked it.

No, she loved it, loved Scotty, despite worrying about money and what the future held.

But she was starting to feel better about things. Before leaving home, she had called the school and was told she could pick up where she left off in the fall. Her old job would be waiting, and by the time she left Starke Groves, she hoped to have a good handle on her finances, especially if she was ultimately able to persuade Nick to help with child support. Regardless of how she felt about him personally, so far he didn’t seem to be mean-spirited. Perhaps he would listen to reason and be willing to help if she took Scotty and left without making a scene that would tarnish his family name.

She looked at her watch. It was almost six-thirty. Being late would not make a good first impression, but she would assure him it was not going to be a habit. Settling Scotty in on his first day was surely an acceptable reason.

No one was in the office. In fact, no one was anywhere around. The open tractor-trailers she had seen parked under nearby sheds the day before were gone. Elaine would not be in until probably nine o’clock, so she couldn’t ask where they were all working.

Standing in the middle of the road, she turned in every direction, but all she could see were the long rows of orange trees, stretching as far as the eye could see. She had no idea which way to go and was leery of taking off to search because she could get lost out there, the place was so darn big.

Hope surged when she heard the sound of a car approaching. She ran to the corner of the building to look around, then groaned to see it was Nick. He was the last person she wanted to encounter right then, even if it meant the day wasn’t lost, after all.

He eased the beach buggy to a stop beside her. “Good morning, sleepyhead. When I say we start at six, I mean six in the morning. Not the evening.”

The dimples were showing. He was smiling. So she knew he wasn’t angry. Just amused. But that didn’t make her feel any better. “I’m sorry. I’m afraid I took too much time looking around the day-care center.”

“I understand, but the trucks always leave promptly at six. Get in, and I’ll take you to where they’re working.”

As they drove, he explained that in the future she would probably know where picking was going on. “But if you miss the trucks it might be a heck of a long hike. I’ve got over two thousand acres of trees, and the Valencias are way in the back.”

She was impressed, having heard Starke was among the biggest but she’d had no idea just how big.

“Well, I don’t plan to be late again. Besides, I don’t like to think of losing pay wandering around looking for everybody.”

As they bumped along between the orange trees, he wanted to know how she liked the day-care center. “Or, more importantly, how did Scotty like it?”

“He seemed to settle right in.” Nick had a friendly way about him that made him easy to talk to, and she found herself chatting away despite her secret loathing for him. “The center is really nice, and I liked Becky, too. I don’t think I have to worry about leaving him with her.”

“No, you don’t. She was carefully screened, has terrific references, and I’ve never had a complaint about her.”

Carlee tried not to think about what a nice profile he had or the strength in his hands as he gripped the wheel to steer around a hole in the road. His every movement was effortless, and he exuded confidence.

Remembering it was her turn to speak, she murmured, “It’s commendable that you provide such good care for the children, Mr. Starke.”

“Oh, please.” He laughed and let go of the wheel to throw up a hand. “Call me Nick. I intend to call you Carlee—if that’s okay.”

“Sure. That’s fine with me.” The friendlier terms they were on, the easier it would be for her to get to know him.

“So you’ve picked oranges before?”

“That’s right. Down the coast a ways.” It was not a total lie. She had gone out into the orchard one day with Ben to handpick some really nice oranges for a gift basket a special customer had ordered.

“And you don’t mind climbing up and down ladders all day? I have to say I was surprised you wanted a job picking. Most women would rather work in processing and packing. I’ve got six women there for the Valencias. I could use another.”

“No,” she said firmly. “I’ll make more money out here.”

“It’s hard work,” he warned. “If you change your mind…”

“I won’t.” She took a deep breath to drink in the sweetness as they drove by trees in bloom. “I don’t think there’s a sweeter smell in the world than orange blossoms.”

“Those are the Hamlins and the Parson Browns. They’ll mature from October through January, but I guess you know that.”

“Right. Those are the early varieties. But what about mid-season oranges like pineapple oranges? Don’t you grow those, as well?”

“No. We concentrate on the Hamlins and Parson Browns because we probably transport over fifty tons of oranges a day during full season to juice-processing plants. That’s our profit. The Valencias are gravy. We bag them and send them to wholesalers who then turn around and sell to retail outlets.”

Carlee’s thoughts were straying again, this time to the way his T-shirt stretched across his broad chest and shoulders. He was wearing shorts again, and she tried not to look at his rock-hard thighs. She understood how Alicia had fallen for him so easily. He was handsome and charming, and she could well imagine how irresistible he would be if he tried to seduce a woman.

Suddenly she asked, “Do you ever go to the beach? Like Cocoa Beach, maybe? It’s so pretty there. I was thinking about going to work there at the Indian River Groves. But then I heard Starke was hiring and how it was a good place for migrants and their children,” she added the lie.

“As a matter of fact I do. There’s a Growers’ Association meeting held there every year. I really like the area. It’s pretty. I haven’t missed going since I took over the business after my father died.”

Bitterness flashed. How very convenient. She wondered where he’d hung out the last time he’d gone and whether he’d left yet another woman heartbroken and pregnant. “What about the rest of your family?”

“It’s just me. My mother passed away before my father. I don’t have any brothers and sisters.”

“So you’re all alone since your divorce?”

He threw her a wry grin. “Looking back, I think I was alone when I was married. At least it felt that way. How about you? Any family?”

“My mother is somewhere in California. I haven’t heard from her in years. It’s just me and Scotty.”

“Well, what more could you ask for?” he cast her a mock incredulous glance. “He’s all boy, too, I can tell. I came by to see you yesterday evening, by the way. I wanted to check on whether you needed anything and was going to ask if I could take Scotty down to the lake to see the ducks, but your car was gone.”

“I found my way into town to get a few things I needed.” She was glad she had missed him. Being around him from time to time while working and casually asking other workers about him would tell her what she needed to know. She did not want him coming around the cottage. Nor did she like being with him in a one-on-one situation, as she was now. After all, she was no fool when it came to men, and she was aware of how he looked at her sometimes. The man was a womanizer. No doubt that was why his wife divorced him. She had probably caught him running around and hit him for huge alimony, and as a result he had sworn off marriage. Instead, he would consider women a buffet—enjoy as much as he wanted, sample all the varieties, and then go his merry way.

But not with her, he wouldn’t. Oh, no. She would hold him at bay and wait until the last minute to inform him he’d left Alicia with a souvenir of their love affair. The Valencia season would last till the end of June or first of July, and she intended to stay till it did.

“Well, would it be all right if I came by this evening?”

She snapped her head around to stare at him, wondering how to gracefully decline, then explained she had planned to put Scotty to bed early. “And I intend to turn in early myself so I won’t be late tomorrow.”

“It wouldn’t take long,” he persisted. “We’ve got some really pretty ducks down there. I even bought a pair of swans. Besides, it would give you a chance to unwind and catch your breath while I take him, unless you’d like to go with us.”

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