to follow his dad.
“Get in the truck,” Cade said to his son.
Finn did as his father asked, then Cade wheeled around walking back to her.
Again, Star braced herself, for what? A confrontation? A mean remark? Ridiculous. They were adults now.
“I owe you an apology,” Cade said from the base of the porch steps, those blue eyes of his glittering. “It’s not you, Star. It’s never been you.”
Before Star could process the words, he turned and climbed into the truck, revving the engine loudly before reversing down the drive.
Cade O’Brien had just given her a backhanded apology.
Why?
It was a full minute before Star remembered the casserole dish warming her hands—the peace offering. Had he laced the food with poison? Did she dare eat it? Star shook her head.
She was being ridiculous. She was going to eat the chicken potpie, and she was going to enjoy every single bite.
Cade O’Brien be damned.
* * *
Star woke with a start.
At first she couldn’t remember where she was, but thanks to the seventeen plus hours of daylight Seward enjoyed this time of year, she quickly got her bearings. She didn’t move, didn’t breathe. Something had woken her, but what?
She strained her ears, listening.
“Give me a beer,” a young male voice said from outside Star’s bedroom window.
Star bolted out of bed and went to the closet, to Patsy’s gun. She’d located the pistol before going to bed, not wanting to be caught unaware if confronted by an animal or something worse. Star reached for the hatbox. In her haste, she dropped the box, the clatter alarmingly loud. She froze.
“What was that?” a second voice asked.
Star’s heart hammered so loud she was sure the boys could hear it.
“Shhh,” someone else said.
“Something’s in there.”
“Come on, let’s go see.”
They were coming in. Star ripped the lid from the box, her fingers closing over the gun. She didn’t grab the bullets out of her aunt’s boot, knowing she could never shoot anyone. Instead, she prayed the sight of the gun would frighten the boys away if it seemed like things were getting out of hand.
What had she been thinking, staying here alone? The O’Briens were close, but not so close they’d hear her scream if she were attacked. Her hands shook as she held the gun. On silent feet, she walked to the bedroom window. The boys stood in a group. One of them dropped a beer can to the ground and crushed it with his foot.
Had Patsy’s place become a hangout for teenagers? They were on the back side of the mobile home. Maybe they hadn’t seen her car, maybe they didn’t even know she was there. Maybe she was overreacting.
Star left the bedroom. At the front door she flipped on the outdoor lights, praying they’d notice the lights, even though it was light outside.
“What the—” one of the kids said.
“Someone is in there.”
“I’m outta here,” one of the boys said.
Star edged closer to the kitchen window and sneaked a peek. One of the boys looked right at her, a boy with Cade O’Brien’s face. Holy cow. The guy had one dominant gene pool.
“Hey, it’s a chick,” one of the boys said.
“Let’s go,” the boy with Cade’s face replied.
Star watched as they left the clearing. She counted five teenaged boys as they disappeared into the woods. Once they were gone, the tension began to ease from Star’s body. They were kids, for goodness sake. Kids.
Star set the gun on the kitchen counter. Get a grip, she told herself. One of the boys was obviously Cade’s son. But why was he out here in the middle of the night? Did Cade even know where the kid was? Should she tell him?
Star poured herself a drink of water, forcing the cool liquid down her throat. It wasn’t enough. She needed something stronger to steady her nerves and she wondered if Patsy still kept a bottle of brandy. Star rifled through the pantry, finding the bottle on the top shelf, way in the back. Dust coated the bottle. Star ran it under the tap before twisting the lid off. She poured an inch of brandy in a glass and gulped the amber liquid, coughing as the brandy burned its way through her body, warming her toes.
Slowly, her mind cleared.
The boys were gone, but would they be back? As much as she hated seeing Cade again, telling him about his son was probably the best option. She didn’t want another late night visit. If Cade knew, he was sure to keep a better