arrange a meeting with her father.
Maura had only learned of her father’s existence a month ago. She’d been cleaning out a closet full of her mother’s things when she’d come across an old shoebox. Inside she’d found a variety of papers including an old journal written in her mother’s handwriting.
Intrigued, Maura had read the daily entries written by her mother at the age of twenty-one. But when Maura reached the entry describing in detail the warm summer day her mother met a handsome young man named Michael Carson, the tone and content of the journal changed dramatically.
They’d bumped into each other at the Bridlewood Country Fair, and from that day forward Bridget Murphy’s journal had been filled with the romantic musings of a young woman in love.
Maura soon realized that her mother and the young man had become lovers. But a month after their first meeting, Mickey, as her mother had affectionately called him, had returned to California. After his departure the journal entries had begun to dwindle until they stopped altogether.
Maura couldn’t help feeling disappointed that the romance hadn’t worked out. About to close the journal she’d noticed an envelope tucked between its worn pages.
The envelope written in her mother’s handwriting was addressed to Michael Carson, Walnut Grove, Kincade, California. The letter had been opened and read, but scrawled across the address were the words Return to Sender.
Inside was a letter her mother had written. It began:
“Dear Mickey…I’m going to have a baby, your baby…”
Stunned, she’d read the journal and letter again, noting the date on the letter was two months before she was born. Michael Carson was her father.
At first she hadn’t known what to do or where to turn. But after making a few discreet phone calls she’d discovered that Michael Carson still resided in the small California town of Kincade.
“What do you take in your coffee?” The question came from Spencer as he crossed to the table, carrying a tray with cups and saucers, cream and sugar. She’d been too distracted by her thoughts to hear his return, but his deep, resonant voice quickly brought her attention to the present.
Maura met Spencer’s blue gaze, and for several long seconds she knew exactly how a deer felt when it found itself trapped in the glare of headlights.
Her breath snagged in her throat, and a guilty warmth crept up her neck and over her face. Her heart reacted, too, knocking wildly against her ribs.
“Uh…sorry.” she muttered. “I was daydreaming, enjoying the view,” she said, flashing a nervous smile.
“Really,” Spencer commented. “From the way you were frowning, I’d bet my bottom dollar you were puzzling over something. A problem perhaps?” He held her gaze, almost as if he was trying to see inside her head. “Am I right?”
Maura swallowed to alleviate the sudden dryness in her throat. He was too perceptive, by far. And the fact that he had reservations about her was easy to see.
In truth she couldn’t really blame him. She’d been deliberately and unpardonably rude two months ago when she’d turned down his initial invitation to his ranch, but his arrogant behavior and skeptical comments had rubbed her the wrong way and she’d seen no reason to accept.
Her call asking if he still needed her help was a complete about-face, and she’d known as she talked to him she was the last person he’d expected to hear from.
The real reason she’d made the call was she’d remembered that the Blue Diamond Ranch was located in Kincade, California, the same town as the address on the letter she’d found in her mother’s journal.
“There’s that frown again,” Spencer teased, but Maura heard the slight edge to his voice.
“Spencer, dear, behave,” his mother admonished as she brought the coffee carafe and a plate of cookies to the table. “Maura’s probably weary from the long bus ride.”
Maura flashed Spencer’s mother a grateful smile.
“The coffee smells wonderful,” she said.
“Cream and sugar?” Spencer asked politely, as his mother filled three cups, then returned to the counter to replace the carafe in the coffee machine.
“Cream, thank you,” Maura replied, forcing herself to meet Spencer’s blue gaze. The glint of humor together with the infectious grin slowly spreading across his handsome features caught her off guard and sent her pulse skittering wildly.
“You’re welcome, red.” He poured cream into her cup.
Maura bristled at the use of the detested nickname. She dropped her gaze, stifling the urge to tell him not to call her “red,” knowing full well that to voice her displeasure would surely result in Spencer using the nickname at every possible opportunity just to annoy her.
Schooling her features, she glanced at him once more and for a dizzying moment Maura wondered if her heart had stopped beating. The air between them crackled with tension and something much more dangerous. Her heart restarted itself, beating at an irregular pace.
An emotion she couldn’t define flared briefly in those dazzling blue eyes before it vanished, making her wonder if she’d seen it at all.
“I thought your father would be back by now,” Nora commented as she rejoined them at the table.
“Where is Dad?” Spencer asked, leaning back casually in his chair.
“He had a few errands to run,” his mother replied. “He said he’d be back by four, but it’s nearly five. Oh…here he is now,” she added as the kitchen door opened and her husband appeared.
“Sorry I’m late, dear.” Elliot Diamond dropped a kiss on the top of his wife’s head. He smiled at Maura. “Hi, Maura. It’s nice to see you again. Did you have a good trip?”
“Yes, thank you,” Maura replied politely.
“Why are you late?” Nora asked her husband.
“Oh…I stopped by Michael’s place on my way home. I picked up a few groceries and put them in his fridge. He gets back from his cruise tomorrow, remember?”
“Of course!” Nora said. “Was everything all right over there?”
“Everything looked fine,” Elliot assured his wife before turning to Maura. “We’ve had a rash of break-ins in the area recently and so we try to look out for each other. Michael Carson is a neighbor and one of our oldest and dearest friends. Is that fresh coffee I smell?” he asked, moving to the counter.
Maura felt the blood drain from her face and her heart slam against her breastbone at the mention of her father’s name. Surely she’d heard wrong?
“Did you say your neighbor is Michael Carson?” Her voice seemed to come from somewhere far away.
“Yes,” Elliot Diamond answered as he poured himself a coffee. “He owns Walnut Grove, the adjoining property,” he went on. “He and his wife had been our friends for more years than I care to remember. He’s a widower
