LITMIR.BIZ

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      She whipped her head around. “Star? My sister’s name isn’t Star. It’s Renee. Renee Montgomery.” Weak with relief, she dropped her forehead against the steering wheel. “Oh, thank God. For a minute there, I thought Renee was—” She stopped midsentence, then jerked up her head and pressed her lips tightly together. “I’m sorry,” she said as she pushed the key into the ignition. “Obviously, you’ve made a mistake. Now, I really must be going.”

      When she reached for the door again, Woodrow blocked her way. “Wait.” He dug the picture Ace had given him from his pocket and held it out. “Is this your sister?”

      She pushed his hand away without so much as a glance. “I’m sorry. Really I am. But obviously you’ve made a mistake. My sister’s name is Renee, not Star.”

      He thrust the picture in front of her face. “Just take a look.”

      She gave him an impatient look, then snatched the picture from his hand and held it at arm’s length in order to better see it. Woodrow watched her facial muscles go slack, saw the tremble that began in her fingers.

      She shook her head. “I don’t understand.” She turned to look at him, her eyes round with disbelief. “Where did you get this?”

      “Maggie Dean. Maggie Tanner now, since she and my brother Ace got married. She worked with Star.”

      “Not Star,” she told him and lifted the picture to look at it again. She placed a hand at the base of her throat and rubbed. “Renee. Renee Montgomery.”

      Woodrow hunkered down beside the car, putting himself on her level. “Look,” he said quietly. “I know this has probably come as a shock, and I’m sorry that I had to dump this on you so unexpectedly, but there’s more.”

      “More?” she repeated, then laughed, the sound hollow and empty to his ears. “What more could you possibly have to tell me, other than my sister is dead?”

      Woodrow shifted on the balls of his feet, knowing he had to handle this carefully. Not for himself so much as for Ace and Maggie. “Well,” he began. “You see, Star, I mean Renee,” he corrected. “Well, she had a baby.”

      She stared. “A baby?”

      He nodded. “Yeah. A girl.”

      “But…where is she?”

      “With Ace and Maggie. Before Renee died, she made Maggie promise that she’d give the baby to the baby’s father.”

      “Ace is the father of my sister’s child?”

      Woodrow blew out a long breath. This was getting tougher, instead of easier. “No. Not Ace. Ace’s father. Our father,” he clarified, scowling. “Buck Tanner. He fathered the kid.”

      She pressed two fingers to her temple, as if pushing back a headache. “But why does Ace have the baby and not your father?”

      “Because my father’s dead. Heart attack. Just a couple of days after Renee died.”

      She leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. “I can’t believe this,” she whispered. “Any of it.”

      “It’s the truth,” Woodrow assured her. “Every last word. I swear.”

      She sat there as still as death, not saying a word. Knowing it was now or never, he scooted closer. “We’re still wrangling with all the legal stuff. Ace hired a private detective to track down Renee’s family, which is how we found out about you. Ace and Maggie, they want to adopt the baby. That’s why I’m here. To get your approval.”

      She dropped her chin, shaking her head. “No.” She gulped. “I can’t talk about this right now. It’s too much to absorb. Too fast. I need time to think.” She covered her face with her hands. “Oh, God. Renee.”

      Though time was the last thing Woodrow wanted to give her, he pushed to his feet. “I’ll be staying in town overnight.” He fished a gas receipt from his pocket and scrawled a number on the back. “Here’s my cell phone number,” he said, and tossed the paper onto her lap. “Give me a call, when you’re ready to talk.”

      Still numb from learning of her sister’s death, that evening Elizabeth stood before her breakfast room window, her arms hugged around her waist. Beyond the glass a hummingbird flitted from bloom to bloom in the garden, seeking nectar, while two squirrels played chase along the top rail of her wrought-iron fence. Behind her, Ted Scott, her fiancé, sat at her kitchen table. Though she couldn’t see his face, she sensed his disapproval. It pressed down on her shoulders like a heavy cloak, adding to the sorrow already weighing her down.

      “I know you’re upset,” he said, in a obvious struggle for patience. “I can understand that. But it would be ridiculous for us to cancel our trip now. Not after all the plans we’ve made. Besides, it isn’t as if you have a funeral to arrange or anything. That’s all been done.”

      Tears swelled in Elizabeth’s eyes at the mention of the funeral. She’d lost her sister and hadn’t even been allowed at the funeral to mourn her passing. Didn’t even know where Renee had been buried or who had made the arrangements.

      Oh, God, she wanted to cry so badly. Wanted to empty her heart and soul of all the grief and regrets that choked her. She squeezed her eyes shut and silently willed Ted to come to her. To wrap his arms around her and just hold her. Comfort her. Just once she wanted him to respond to her emotional needs, instead of stifling them.

      When he remained at the table, she pushed back the disappointment and shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. I need to stay here. Decide what to do.”

      “About the baby?”

      She nodded, still unable to believe that Renee, little more than a baby herself, had been a mother.

      And Elizabeth was an aunt.

      “Surely you aren’t considering adopting this child?” he said in dismay. “Why, it could be deformed, retarded! You told me yourself that Renee had taken drugs.”

      His callous words scraped across her heart, opening wounds scarred by the past. Slowly she turned to face him, her face white, her eyes fierce. “Do you think that matters to me, Ted? I have a niece. A niece. That baby is all the family I have left in the world. I won’t just sign away whatever rights I may have to her and pretend she never existed.”

      Immediately contrite, he rose and crossed to slip his arms around her waist. “I’m sorry, Elizabeth,” he murmured against her hair. “I wasn’t thinking. Of course, you feel a responsibility for the baby. That’s only natural. But you mustn’t do anything rash. It wouldn’t be wise. You’re in shock, I’m sure. A week away will help. It’ll give you the time to adjust to your loss, to put things in proper perspective.”

      She buried her face in the curve of his neck, clinging to him, desperate for his comfort, his understanding. But as tight as she clung, she felt nothing from him. No warmth. No understanding. Certainly no comfort. Just the stiffness of his starched collar chafing against her skin, the rigidness of his body where it touched hers.

      Disheartened, she shook her head. “I can’t go with you, Ted. Not now.”

      He dropped his arms from around her so quickly, she stumbled, off balance.

      “Fine.” He plucked his suit jacket from the back of the kitchen chair. “But if you think I’m going to stay here and hold your hand while you cry over a sister whom you haven’t seen or spoken to in years, then you’re mistaken. I’m going to Europe, with or without you.”

      “Then you’ll want to take this with you.” Tears burning her eyes, Elizabeth twisted her engagement ring from her finger and held it out to him.

      He looked at the ring then back at her. His eyes turned cold, unforgiving. Snatching the ring from her hand, he rammed it into his pocket and spun for the door.

      Elizabeth released the breath she’d been holding

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