Hometown star, p.1
Hometown Star, page 1
Table of Contents
Title Page
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 Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Also by Joleen James
About the Author
HOMETOWN STAR
A Novel
By Joleen James
HOMETOWN STAR
Copyright © 2013 by Joleen James
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means now known or hereafter invented, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is coincidental.
Cover Art by Visual Quill
Dear Reader,
My love affair with Alaska began on my honeymoon. While vacationing in Alaska I fell in love with the endless summer nights, the incredible wildlife (imagine eagles, bears, and the best fly fishing ever!) and the breathtaking scenery. I knew that one day I would base a story in this beautiful state. Hometown Star is that book.
I was lucky enough to spend time in Seward, Alaska, the town used in this story. While writing Hometown Star I tried to stay as true to my memories of Seward as possible. To that end, I’d like to thank my friend Katrina and her parents Steve and Colleen (Seward residents for many years) for their help with all the questions I had. Any inaccuracies with the setting are totally my own.
I hope you enjoy Star’s and Cade’s story. After all, who doesn’t love an Alaska man?
Happy reading,
Joleen James
This one is for all the smart, talented women in my life. You lift me up!
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
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.
