Dr. Dad

“It’s all right, baby,” he reassured. “Go play with your toys...or with Kitty.”

“Not baby,” she informed him. Her bottom lip pouted out and he winced. When she had a tantrum she realty had a tantrum. For all her sweetness, his niece was as stubborn as a mule.

“Noah...Dr. Bradley, are you there?”

“Just a minute, Ms. Granger.” He leaned down to Becky and tweaked one of her braids. It wasn’t a very good braid, but the best he’d been able to manage with her silky fine hair. “That’s right, you’re not a baby,” he agreed. “Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes. Can you wait a while?”

After a long pause she nodded and trotted to the corner, where Kitty was flicking his tail and observing his food bowl. Becky thumped his back and he turned and rubbed himself against her so hard, she toppled onto her bottom with a giggle.

Noah shook his head. Kitty was unaccountably gentle with Becky. He straightened and tucked the receiver under his chin. “Starr?”

“Yes.”

“We’ll have to talk about what’s best for Becky. When may I see you?”

“Anytime, I guess. I’ll be here the rest of the day. I’m staying with my mother and father. They have a store called From Earth and Sky—they live in the back.”

“Good. Becky is supposed to spend the morning with some friends, so I’ll get her settled before coming over.” Noah scribbled the directions and hung up with a terse goodbye.

Maybe, just maybe, under different circumstances he’d enjoy knowing Starr Granger. But maybe not. Sam’s death had reminded him how fragile life could be. He didn’t want to care about someone who treated it so casually.

Even a woman as intriguing as Starr.

Two hours later Noah parked his car and stared at the directions Starr had given him, then back at the house. A health food store? Starr’s parents owned a health food store.

He’d expected something entirely different. An art gallery perhaps. A snobbish, upscale gallery. The kind of straitlaced, conservative place the McKittricks would patronize. But it wasn’t, so how had Starr Granger and Amelia McKittrick ever become friends?

A sensation of unreality crept over him as he stepped through the gate and watched a pair of brown rabbits hop away, disappearing into the lush wilderness of the garden. It was like something from one of Becky’s storybooks—a combination of Peter Cottontail and Alice in Wonderland. Baskets of flowers and herbs hung from the overhanging eaves. Moss grew in velvet swathes between flagstones on the path and at the foundation of the house. And on the porch a mama cat lounged in the sun, three kittens busily nursing.

Warily he opened the front door and saw a plant-filled interior. Light cascaded through a myriad of crystals, sending fractured rainbows dancing through the air and across various wares in jars and bins. A woman sat at a loom under the far window, examining the pattern she was weaving. After a moment she looked up and smiled.

“Welcome,” she said softly.

“Uh...er...thanks,” Noah stuttered. Plainly this was Starr’s mother. They had the same stunning cheekbones, the same clear blue-green eyes, the same rich, golden brown hair. But where Starr radiated saucy self-reliance, her mother had the sweet, untroubled innocence of a child.

She rose to her feet, looking oddly sophisticated in a natural-weave skirt and sweater. “Would you like some tea? I have some wonderful chamomile I grew myself.” She paused and studied him for a moment. “Or would you prefer peppermint and honey?”

“Er...no...nothing, thanks,” Noah said quickly, unable to repress a small shudder.

“I understand. You’re a friend of my daughter’s.”

He blinked. Psychic? “Well...sort of.”

Just then a man strolled through a door in the rear. “Have you seen the radish seeds, Moon Bright? I want to start some sprouts for salad.”

“Blue,” she admonished gently. “You know Morning Star doesn’t like sprouts.”

“But these are different.” Blue looked at Noah, whose jaw had dropped at the vivid collection of names. “You must be here to see Morning Star.”

“Morning Star?” he repeated.

“She prefers to be called Starr,” Moon Bright explained.

Noah rubbed his temple. What...did he have a tattoo on his forehead? A warning sign? Danger. This Man Has Encountered Starr Granger. His Life Will Never Be The Same.

“Er...how did you know?”

“The suit,” Blue said.

“No herbal tea,” Moon Bright added. She sighed.

“None of her friends like herbal tea. Oh, dear, you’re not that man she married, are you?”

Married? Noah’s eyes narrowed as he realized how little he knew about Starr. And the worse part was learning she’d given him insomnia when she was definitely unavailable. He didn’t agree with “open” marriages.

“No,” he said shortly. “I’m not the one she married.”

Moon Bright appeared relieved. “I’m so glad.”

Noah couldn’t decide if he himself was insulted, or relieved. Marriage to Starr Granger would surely lead a man to stark raving insanity.

“Dad, where are your sales receipts for the past quarter?” exclaimed the “wife” in question as she swept into the room. In contrast to the artless tranquillity of her parents, she was a whirlwind of energy. “I can’t do an income projection without them.”

“You have company, dear.”

When Starr recognized Noah, her eyes widened. “Oh...Dr. Bradley. You’re earlier than I expected.”

“A doctor?” Moon Bright shook her head sadly. “Darling, I think we should talk.”

“Not now, mother.” Distracted, she looked at her father as he lifted various containers from the shelves and inspected the contents. “Dad, what are you looking for?”

“Radish seeds, dear. They make a very tangy sprout. I’m sure you’ll like them.”

Starr rubbed the back of her neck as though in sudden, acute pain.

“I’m glad he’s not the one you married,” Moon Bright murmured. “At least he said he wasn’t.”

“Uh...” Starr glanced briefly in Noah’s direction.

He glared, deciding he was both relieved and insulted. “Please, tell us about the man you did marry, since I’m not the ‘one.’”

“There’s not much to tell. I’m divorced.”

“You and Chase would still be together if you hadn’t stifled yourselves with legal boundaries. It’s so unnatural. Remember that next time, dear,” her mother advised. She looked at Noah and shook her head again, clearly alarmed he might be “the next time.”

“Thanks, Mom. I think I’ll go for a walk. I need some air. Try to find those sales receipts while I’m gone, okay, Dad?” She grabbed Noah’s arm and propelled him through the door. He endured the fast-paced march for two full blocks down the hillside before slowing her into a more normal pace.

Normal? Hell, he doubted anything was normal around Starr. Noah whistled beneath his breath. “Morning Star” hadn’t rebelled from a straitlaced home, she’d escaped herbal tea and radish sprout salads. Compared to her parents, she was a conservative rule follower, a staid pillar of the community. The difference was phenomenal.