Hometown Star

Chapter One

August

Seward, Alaska

Starlene White stared at the rundown double–wide trailer. Wide stripes of rust ran down the cheap aluminum siding. Dandelions and chickweed grew to the tops of the skirting—well, what was left of the skirting.

She drew in a shaky breath as she mounted the rickety porch steps, the rotting wood giving way beneath her brand new designer sandals. The front window near the door was broken, the remaining glass so smeared with dust she couldn’t see inside.

With a steady hand, Star inserted her key into the lock, but she didn’t need it. A mere touch pushed the door open. An unlocked door didn’t surprise her. Patsy had never locked the door. Why would she? Who in their right mind would want to go inside? It was Star’s “city” mind–set that told her to use the key.

Star stepped into the mobile home. The stench of mold and stale cigarettes wrinkled her nose. An instant, vivid image of Patsy, sitting at the kitchen table, a cigarette dangling from her fingers, a can of Bud Light in front of her, flashed through Star’s mind. Star closed her eyes, absorbing the memories of a woman more precious to her than her own mother.

“Patsy, you deserved so much better than this place,” she said to the room, hoping her aunt could hear her. “I miss you. What am I going to do without you?”

Sadness squeezed Star’s heart. She forced the pain away and walked across the avocado shag carpet to the kitchen and hit the light switch. Nothing. No power. Disappointed, she checked her BlackBerry. No Svc flashed on the screen. No power. No phone or Internet reception. She couldn’t wait to get out of Alaska and get back home to Seattle, to civilization.

For a minute she considered taking her sister, Brandi, up on her offer to stay at her place in town, but just as quickly Star pushed the idea away. If she stayed on site she could wade through Patsy’s things in the evening after she finished working for the day. Her on–location job as a production manager for the cable television show Update This! came first, settling Patsy’s estate, second.

In the kitchen, Star set the bag of groceries she carried onto the counter, along with her purse. She went to the window and turned the hand–crank, hoping for a cross–breeze. A clatter down the hall brought her around and sent her pulse racing. An animal? Probably. Star fished around in her purse for her pepper spray. In the back of her mind she wondered if Patsy’s gun was still in the old hatbox in her bedroom closet.

“Is anyone here?” she asked. “Anyone? I have pepper spray and I know how to use it.”

An empty silence greeted her. Most likely it was a little mouse, more afraid of her than she was of it.

Feeling slightly ridiculous, Star moved cautiously down the narrow hall, her heels tapping on the yellowed linoleum. At the bathroom, she paused, peering inside at the avocado green sink, toilet, and tub. All clear. That left the two bedrooms.

“Hello?” She paused at the door to Aunt Patsy’s room. The bed had been stripped bare. A lump formed in Star’s throat. How many times had she crept into this room to cuddle up with her aunt, needing the kind of grownup mothering her own mother hadn’t been able to provide?

A ruckus pulled Star around. Before she could react a small boy ran smack into her.

“Hey,” she cried, dropping the pepper spray. Her hands shot out to steady him.

“Let me go.” He jerked away, running for the door.

Star considered giving chase but quickly discarded the idea. She didn’t need to know why the kid was here. She didn’t care. Kids were nothing but trouble with a capital T. Raising her three sisters had cured Star of ever wanting children of her own. She never dated men with children. She didn’t care how hot the guy was. Kids were a deal–breaker. Period.

A howl sounded out front. Noisy crying followed.

Star sighed. So much for letting the kid go.

She made her way to the open door. The boy lay face down in the dirt, his sobs muffled by the earth. One of his shoes sat a few feet away. Had he tripped on his untied shoelaces?

Star walked gingerly down the steps and dropped to her knees beside him. “Where’re you hurt?”

She judged his age at seven or eight years old. Shaggy black hair hid his face from her. He pushed to his knees, then sat back onto his butt.

“Are you okay?” she asked. Dirt streaked his face. Blood oozed from a cut on his lip. “You’re bleeding.”

He wiped his mouth on his shirt sleeve.

“Let me see.” She reached for him, but he scooted away. “Come inside. I’ll clean you up.”

He shook his head.

Star changed her tactics. “That’s right. I’m a stranger. No wonder you don’t want to go inside with me, but let’s be fair, you were in my house.”

The guarded look didn’t leave his eyes.

Star tried again. “Let me introduce myself.” She smiled. “My name is Star. Patsy Cooper was my aunt. Well, she was my mother’s aunt, and my great aunt. Did you know Patsy?”

He nodded enthusiastically, his eyes lighting up. “Star’s a funny name.”

“Tell me about it,” Star said. “My mother is the Queen of White Trash names. We all have them. My real name is Starlene. My sisters are Ruby Sue, Tawney, and Brandi.”

“What’s white trash?” He cocked his head to the side, as if he were trying to figure her out.

“You’re lookin’ at it, kid,” she said with a half–grin. “Well, maybe not so much anymore. I’m still white but not nearly as trashy.” Star pushed to her feet and bent to dust the dirt from her black slacks, frowning when she spotted the layer of dust coating her expensive sandals. “Come on. Let’s go inside and get you cleaned up before your mother sees you.”

The boy stood. “I don’t got a mother. Not anymore.” He retrieved his shoe, shoving his foot inside.

“No?” she asked, curious. “I’m sorry about that. Do you have a dad?”

He nodded.

“You going to tie those shoes?” Star pointed at his feet.

He shrugged but did as she asked, making two neat bows.

Satisfied he wouldn’t be tripping again, Star started for the steps, the boy on her heels.

“Let’s fix you up for your dad,” she said. “Then I’ll walk you home. I’m assuming you live around here. I need to find a phone so I can call the power company. Maybe I can borrow yours?” At the sink, Star moved to turn on the tap, but remembered without power there’d be no water. Instead, she removed a bottle of water from her grocery bag. She twisted off the lid, then wet a cloth.

“Let me see your lip. I used to be good at this kind of doctoring. It’s been a while, but I think I can remember how to give first aid.”

The boy stood still as she washed the blood from his lip and the dirt from his face, a cute face, a familiar face. Twenty plus years rolled away. She knew his face, had seen it on another boy long ago.

Star’s stomach plummeted. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Finn.”

“Finn what?” He flinched when she scrubbed too hard at his lip.

“Finn O’Brien.”

Star’s fingers tightened on the rag. The kid was an O’Brien. Suddenly she was twelve years old, just off the school bus, racing for home, but Cade O’Brien had blocked her way. He wouldn’t let her pass. She’d had to pee. She’d given him a shove, but he was older, stronger. He’d laughed at her, asking her why she was in such a hurry to get home to her white trash aunt. Star could still remember the warmth of the pee running down her legs, still remember the smile slipping from Cade’s face. He’d let her pass after that and she’d run all the way home, cleaning herself up, telling no one about the intimidation.

Just thinking about Cade O’Brien made her blood boil. Was the kid his or Ron’s? What difference did it make? An O’Brien was an O’Brien. As far as she was concerned, they were all as rotten as the wood on Patsy’s porch.

Star tossed the washcloth in the sink. “There. I think I have some bandages. Wait here.”

In the bathroom, she found the bandages, but when she returned to the kitchen, the boy was gone.

“Finn. Where are you?” She went to the front door. “Finn, are you out here?” Star scanned the yard but didn’t see him.

A thick grove of spruce and hemlock trees separated Patsy’s place from the O’Briens. Did she have the nerve to go over there? She needed a phone and they were sure to have a landline. It was either face the O’Briens or drive the ten miles back to Seward where her BlackBerry worked.

Cade and Ron O’Brien had made her life a living hell each time she’d come to stay with Patsy, especially Cade. To this day, Star had no idea why he’d tormented, teased her, bullied her. Eventually, Ron had grown up and ignored her, but Cade had continued to insult her with his slow roving stares and smirks. Star stepped outside and pulled the door shut on the mobile home.

She straightened, the familiar control returning. Cade O’Brien didn’t intimidate her anymore. She wasn’t anyone’s charity case now. She was an educated, powerful, career woman, a woman who could take care of herself.

She wasn’t afraid of Cade O’Brien.

Not anymore.

* * *

Cade O’Brien raised the ax over his head then let it fly. Razor sharp, the blade sliced through the log with minimal effort, the double–thunk of the two halves hitting the ground satisfying.

He paused, using his discarded T–shirt to wipe the sweat from his face, arms, and torso. He tossed the damp shirt onto a nearby log just as his eight–year–old son Finn burst through the trees. When Finn saw him, he skidded to a stop, then slowed his pace, practically dragging his feet through the grass. His chin came up, as if he dared Cade to question him.

“What’s going on?” Cade set the ax down and waited for Finn to come to him.

“Nothin’,” Finn said, his eyes fixed on his dirty tennis shoes, tied tennis shoes.

“Nothing?” Cade asked, instantly suspicious. Finn never tied his shoes. “You came tearing out of those trees like you did the time you set the woods on fire. What’re you up to?”

Finn shrugged, his eyes still south.

“You haven’t been over to Patsy’s place again, have you?”

Finn didn’t reply, his refusal to answer telling Cade everything he needed to know.

“Look at me, son.”

Finn lifted his chin. Cade took in the cut lip, the dirty knees, the tied shoes.

“What happened, Finn?”

“I fell.”

The kid’s face was too clean. His nose had a shine to it. Cade’s eyes narrowed. “Who cleaned you up?”

Finn’s chin jutted out. “Me.”

Cade didn’t buy a word of the story but decided to let Finn off the hook. He was tired of fighting with the kid, tired of trying to keep him away from Patsy’s, tired of trying to figure out what the heck the fascination was with that dump of a mobile home. “Why don’t you go inside and see if your Aunt Trudy needs help with anything.”

Finn took off past him like a rocket.

Cade turned away, his gut telling him he should go after his son and press him for more info, yet he didn’t; he couldn’t. The kid had a way of looking at him that made him feel like a failure. And maybe he was. Never in his wildest dreams had he thought he’d ever be a single parent. Single. Alone. So alone.

Cade picked up the ax, his hands tightening on the handle. He let the blade fly, again and again, until his arms strained in their sockets. Sweat raced down his face. His breath heaved in his chest. He paused, enjoying the pure physical release of chopping the wood, a release he needed. He needed more; needed...he didn’t know what he needed. Cade buried the ax in a stump.

Maybe he needed a break. The scent of fresh baked bread called him to the house. Cade swung around, intending to snag a slice. He took a step then froze.

A woman stood at the edge of the tree line. A beautiful woman. Recognition flared, like a white–hot flame in his gut. Starlene White. He’d know her anywhere. The thick, blonde hair. Those cool green eyes. That killer body.

Star had finally come home.

She started toward him, her shoulders back, her head high. Cade didn’t move, couldn’t seem to remember how. She wore a crisp white blouse, black pants, and high heels. He took his time taking his fill of her, just like he always had. Her skin was still creamy and smooth, her lips full and so pink he ached to kiss them.

Only he wouldn’t. He’d never kiss Starlene.

Battle lines had been drawn between them years ago and he didn’t blame her for hating his guts.

* * *

Cade O’Brien.

The jerk.

Star’s stomach did a crazy flip flop. Why didn’t he like her? She could see the same insolence in his eyes, see it in the stiff, unwelcoming way he held his body, a great body that was wasted on a guy with zero personality.

She stopped in front of him. His eyes did a slow rove clear to her toes before settling on her face.

“Star,” he said. “You got the letter.”

Seconds passed, the familiar tension rising between them thick and ugly. “That’s right.” Star lifted her chin. “I got your eviction notice.” The pain in her stomach increased. She pressed a hand to her midsection.

“Our attorney advised us to send the letter,” Cade said. “It’s nothing personal. We’re planning on expanding the Bed & Breakfast, building a second home where Patsy’s place is.”

He stared at her mouth, and that bugged Star. It wasn’t the first time he’d done it.

“Patsy’s lease was terminated with her death,” Cade continued. “Our attorney wanted us to be clear with your family before we demolished the trailer. I’m sure there are mementos inside your family wants.”

“How considerate,” Star said, her tone even and smooth. “Brandi’s coming by tomorrow to help me pack. Believe me, the faster I’m out of here, the better. I’m not staying in Seward one second longer than necessary.”

His brow creased—with relief? Star couldn’t be sure, but Cade definitely gave off a vibe that said he’d be glad to see her go. Well, she’d be glad to go! Seward, Alaska was everything she’d spent her twenties running away from. I mean, what was there to do here? Nothing but breed babies and choke on the stink of fish. No, thanks.

“If there’s anything I can do to help you speed things up,” Cade offered, “I’m happy to help. Patsy was a loyal, dedicated employee of the B & B and O’Brien Charters. I’m sorry about her passing.”

“Are you?” Star couldn’t resist asking. There was no love lost between the O’Brien boys and her aunt. Never mind that Patsy had worked like a slave for the O’Briens after Cade’s mother had died.

“Of course I’m sorry,” Cade said again. “For you and your sisters.”

Star stared at him, those cold blue eyes of his on her. What did he see when he looked at her? A poor white trash girl, wearing dirty clothes, her hair uncombed? Inside Star shrank, but just as quickly she remembered who she was now. She was the bigger person. She was in control.

“Thank you for your condolences,” she said. “Actually, I’m in need of a phone. My BlackBerry doesn’t get reception here.”

“Sure.” Cade snagged his T–shirt.

Star got a good look at his rock hard abs, the abs of a man used to doing physical work. He pulled the shirt over his head, covering all that bare skin.

“Follow me,” Cade said.

He strode to the house at a breakneck pace, Star struggling to keep up with him in her high heels. When they reached the front door, Cade held it wide. She passed by him into the house at the same time Finn plowed right into her.

“Whoa,” Cade said, catching hold of the boy’s shirt. “Slow down.”

“It’s you.” Finn backed away from Star while staring up at her.

“Hello, Finn,” Star said, smiling. “Twice in one day. Do you always move at warp speed?”

Finn shrugged.

“You’ve met before?” Cade asked. “Wait, Star’s the one who cleaned you up, isn’t she?”

Finn’s eyes widened.

“I warned you to stay away from Patsy’s place,” Cade said, the words stern.

Finn’s lower lip stuck out, wobbled.

Star had heard enough. She’d been on the receiving end of Cade’s temper too many times to count. She stepped between Cade and Finn. “He’s a little boy. He got hurt. I helped him. End of story. There’s no need to get angry.”

“He shouldn’t have been there,” Cade said. “It’s dangerous. The place is a decayed wasteland.”

They were nose to nose. Star could smell him, pine and sweat, and fresh air. Testosterone to the max. Unnerved, she stepped back.

Instantly, Cade’s face softened and he swore under his breath. “The phone’s over there.” He pointed to a table pushed up against the wall, then turned to Finn. “I’ll talk to you later.”

Finn scampered away out the front door.

Star marched over to the phone. Cade hadn’t changed at all. He’d used intimidation on his son, the same kind of intimidation he’d used on her when she’d been a kid. Nothing made her angrier than a bully.

Star removed a paper from her pocket and punched in the number for the power company. She was listening to the automated menu when Ron O’Brien joined Cade. She heard Cade explain to his younger brother that she had no power. After that she lost track of their conversation as she had one of her own with the power company. When she ended her call, both brothers were gone and she was alone.

Star knew she should make her escape, but she couldn’t resist looking around the foyer. As a young girl, raised in low–rent apartments and Patsy’s double–wide mobile home, she’d always dreamed of living in a real house.

To Star’s surprise, the O’Brien place looked the same and still smelled of freshly baked bread. Her stomach rumbled at the thought of Patsy’s homemade cinnamon rolls. She’d loved to watch Patsy bake the rolls for the B & B guests. Patsy always brought the leftover rolls home for Star and her sisters. Star had savored each bite of those cinnamon rolls, making them last as long as she possibly could. Homemade treats weren’t found in the White household. Her mother’s culinary skills stopped at Kraft Macaroni and Cheese.

She’d always been fascinated with the O’Brien house, especially the architecture. The big Victorian had all the charm of its time period: the wrap around porch, the gabled roof, the well–crafted built–ins, and from what she could see so far, the O’Briens hadn’t done much updating. Star suppressed a grin. Maybe she’d offer her services. This was just the kind of house her boss loved to feature on Update This!

She glanced down at the mahogany floor, imagining how the wood would look refinished. The area rug was new, and she suspected they went through at least one rug a year here. No carpet could survive the winter snow and spring mud for more than one season.

A pretty young woman came down the hall toward her, wiping her hands on her apron, the apron covering a very large, pregnant belly.

“Hello,” she said, smiling. “Can I help you?”

“I was using the phone,” Star said. “Cade let me in. I’m Star White from next door.”

“Star White?” The woman’s mouth turned up into a wide smile. “I’m Trudy.” She extended her hand and Star took it. “Do you remember me?”

“Trudy Ramsey, right?” Star asked. Trudy had been a couple of years younger than Star, but she remembered the pretty brunette with the Snow White complexion. She’d always been welcoming when Star’s family had returned to Seward.

“It’s Trudy O’Brien now.” She looked lovingly at Ron, who’d followed her into the foyer. “I married this handsome guy. Ron, do you remember Starlene White?”

“Hey, Star,” Ron said, extending his hand. “Good to see you, although it’s not a surprise. I figured you might show up after we sent the letter. I hope we didn’t catch you too off–guard.”

“No,” Star told him. “Patsy’s place needs to be dealt with. I don’t know why I’ve put it off this long. It’s just a sad time.”

“Of course it is,” Trudy said, giving Star a sympathetic smile. “I told Ron to let the place be, but Cade is in a hurry to get the footing for the new house poured before the fall rains get here.” She patted her belly. “We need the room. Ron and I intend to move into the new house once it’s done. We’ll have two bed and breakfast sites. O’Brien Charters is booked solid. It’s an exciting time.”

“Sounds like it,” Star said, although she couldn’t imagine living the lifestyle the O’Briens did, houseguests all the time, your paycheck depending on the fish run. No, thanks.

A little girl skipped into the room. Cade followed, a white kitten in his hands. Star was still trying to process big Cade holding the tiny kitten when the little girl stopped in front of her.

“Who are you?” the girl asked, squinting up at Star.

“I’m Star.”

“Star’s a pretty name,” the little girl said.

“What’s your name?” Star asked.

“Emma.”

“Pleased to meet you, Emma.” Star shook hands with the girl.

“I found a kitten.” Emma turned to Cade. “She scratched me.” Emma showed Star the back of her hand, pointing to the bandage covering the wound. “She didn’t mean to hurt me. Daddy fixed the scratch. He’s taking my kitten outside for me.”

“I see.” Star glanced at Cade, struggling to imagine him doctoring the little girl.

“Come on, Em,” Cade said with a nod toward the door. “Let’s get the kitty outside.”

Emma held the door open for Cade. When they were gone, Star said, “Cade’s got two kids? Wow.”

“Cade’s got three kids,” Ron told her. “The twins, Finn and Emma, are eight. He also has a sixteen–year–old son, Brad.”

“Three kids,” Star said. “Imagine that.” Three kids equaled a ton of work. She remembered what a handful Brandi, Tawney, and Ruby Sue had been. Kids meant responsibility, big responsibility, the biggest. She’d take her job over kids any day.

“I met Finn earlier,” Star said. “He was in Patsy’s trailer when I got here.”

“Again?” Trudy exchanged a worried look with Ron. “I know Cade’s warned him not to play over there.”

“He liked Patsy,” Ron said with a shrug. “She was like a grandma to the kids. Especially after their mother died. Did you know that Patsy continued to bake bread and cinnamon rolls for us until the end? We all miss her.”

“Thanks for saying that,” Star said, touched by the kind words. “I miss her, too.”

“Of course you do,” Trudy said. “There’s been a lot of sadness in this house the past few years with Dan and Patsy passing on and of course Marissa.”

“Marissa?” Star asked.

“Cade’s wife.” Trudy’s eyes went all soft. “Two years ago. A car accident.”

“I’m sorry,” Star said, surprised to find she meant the words. Every kid needed a mother, even Cade’s.

“Are you staying at Patsy’s?” Trudy asked.

“If the power’s on when I get back over there. I just called the power company. They assured me the power should be on soon.”

“But what if it’s not?” Trudy asked. “Stay for dinner.”

“Oh, no,” Star said a bit too quickly. “I don’t want to impose.”

“Don’t be silly,” Trudy said. “You don’t have power. In fact, you could stay here tonight. We have one room open.”

“It’s the start of our busy season,” Ron said. “We have a full house starting tomorrow. Take the room, Star.”

“Stay for dinner,” Trudy said again.

The screen opened and Cade joined them.

“We’ve invited Star for dinner,” Trudy said. “Don’t you think that’s a great idea, Cade? It would give us all a chance to catch up.”

“Sure,” Cade said, but Star didn’t believe him. Wariness shadowed his eyes, as if he didn’t trust her. Well, he didn’t need to worry. She had no intention of sharing a meal with Cade and his family. She wasn’t good enough to eat with them when she’d been a kid, so why change things now?

“Thanks for the invite, but I planned on packing tonight,” Star said. “I don’t have a lot of time. I’m here on business, and my time to work on the trailer is limited.”

“I insist you eat dinner with us.” Trudy placed her hands on her hips. “It’s been so long since I’ve had another woman to talk to. Just looking at your shoes makes me drool. I’m starved for a conversation on fashion. Please stay.”

Star thought of the groceries she’d bought in town, of the cold salad she’d probably have.

“I’m making homemade chicken potpie,” Trudy coaxed.

Star’s mouth watered at the thought of chicken potpie. She never ate that many calories at a time and couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten anything homemade.

Star took a step toward the door. “No, I should go.”

Trudy’s face fell. “Are you sure I can’t change your mind?” Disappointment oozed from her words.

“Some other time?” Star asked. “I really do want to get settled.”

“Why don’t you run Star home, Cade?” Ron suggested, giving his brother a pointed look.

“That’s okay,” Star said quickly. “I can walk.” She didn’t want to be alone in a vehicle with Cade, even if the drive was short. The man set her on edge. She didn’t trust him, didn’t like him.

Cade pointed at her feet. “In those shoes?”

“Cade’s right,” Trudy said. “Save your shoes. If you won’t stay for dinner, at least take the ride.”

“No, I’m fine.” Star went to the door. “Thanks for the use of your phone. I really appreciate it.”

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

Star waved as she passed.

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

Almost.