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PROLOGUE

2173

Earth–United States of America

Newtown, South Carolina

A vicious backhand sent her slamming against the wall where she slid to the floor like melted butter. For a few blinding seconds, Angela laid there numbly staring up into her husband’s enraged face. Mason Cooper was furious, shouting obscenities, accusations and threats, none of which were making any sense. A lance of severe pain shot clear to her shoulder when he grabbed her by the wrist, violently yanking her to her feet for a fresh tide of punishment.

“You want a divorce? You got it, babe. And you have exactly six days to get yourself together and find somewhere else to stay.” He slapped her. Hard—shoving her to the floor once again as he did so. “Just so you know,” he snarled, looking down at her with sheer disgust, “I never did want to marry you in the first place.” She could feel the hot imprint of Mason’s heavy hand forming on her cheek. “You were never my type,” he snarled, “but both of our fathers insisted that marriage to you would be good for business. And you know what? They were right. Because now that your daddy is out of the picture, and once I’m rid of you, I will be the sole owner of Southern Charm Development.” Grabbing her by her hair, he jerked her once again to her feet, ignoring her resulting cry. “You see,” he continued, his face mere inches from hers, “once I legally deny that brat you’re carrying, there’ll be no question of who gets the best end of the divorce.”

“What are you talking about?” she cried. “You’re the father, Mason!”

“The hell I am.”

“But a DNA test will prove—”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing, Angela.” He smiled and slowly shook his head “I’ve already arranged it. DNA will only prove that I’m not the father. You think I don’t know about your Acacian lover? Believe me I made it a point to cover all the bases. You can take it as high as you want to take it and still you won’t win.” He smiled, “Ahhh, it’s so nice having powerful friends in all the right places.”

At her stunned expression, he added, “Plus, I’ve even got witnesses willing to testify of your infidelity.”

It was a lie—all a horrible lie. There had never been anyone else, and he knew it. Angela tried getting up and failed when his expensive booted foot knocked her back down.

His laugh was without humor. “Here I’ve been working day and night, trying to give you a good life—to be a loving husband. And what do you do? You’ve been seeing your flyboy on the sly and got yourself knocked-up when I’ve been out of town on business. You’re nothing but a whore. And that’s exactly how the court will see you.”

“You know that isn’t true,” she cried.

He ignored her. “Such a shame,” he continued with mock disappointment. “You could have had it all, but instead you threw it all away.

“Oh, and one more thing. Take your damned dog with you. But you’re not taking Piper.” He laughed. “She’s sold.”

“No!” Angela cried, once again struggling to get up. And once again, he planted his boot on her shoulder and gave her another hard shove, sending her back to the tiled floor.

“The mare’s mine! You can’t sell her, Mason!”

“Wanna bet?”

He started to turn away but then stopped. “Oh, and one more little thing. I can’t remember if I ever expressed my sympathy about your momma dying along with your daddy in that accident. She was an unforeseen victim. I always liked her. Unfortunately, there was no way to predict who was going to be in the vehicle that day.”

“What are you saying?”

He smiled down on her, and with a wink added, “You’re a smart girl. You think about it.”

Too numb to fully understand, too shocked to even think, let alone believe what he’d just implied, Angela remained on the floor as he turned and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

She was a mess. Her face and eyes burned from being backhanded. Her nose was bleeding. She was sure a rib was cracked, and her shoulder throbbed as if it had been ripped from its socket.

As his fancy sports car screamed out of the drive, spraying gravel in its wake, Angela knew he wouldn’t be back until sometime tomorrow afternoon. She had originally planned to leave him two weeks from now, but it seemed that her plans would have to change. For all she knew, Mason had a fatal accident planned for her. If she were to die, his problems would be over, leaving him the poor grieving husband.

If she left tonight, it would also mean she would have to get in touch with Rae Banner and change the previous arrangements for transportation. As it was, preparations had been made for Max Banner to rendezvous with her at the Pacific Northwest Intergalactic Spaceport. But now she was leaving earlier than planned.

With her arms gently enfolding her slightly rounded belly, Angela inhaled a painful breath and tried to rise to her feet. only to fall back onto the floor. She had to get up if she was going to escape tonight. There was too much to do.

She just prayed the baby was alright. Despite the pain and shock she had gone through, she had been ever mindful of the tiny life growing beneath her heart and had always tried her best to deflect any blows aimed at her stomach.

With her mind spinning, she struggled once more to get up and made it this time. She’d have to take one of the trucks and a horse trailer to haul Piper. As far as the vehicles were concerned, she’d leave them parked at the spaceport and let Mason figure out how to get them back.

~ * ~

Another rut in the highway grabbed the wheel, threatening to jerk it from her hands. Angela fought to get the rig under control. The way things were, there was no other option but to travel the old abandoned interstate system across the United States. Truth was, had she chosen to travel on the main interstate system, it would have saved her several days, yes, but Mason would have had his goons out looking for her and dragging her back before she’d even started.

Having been forced to leave earlier than planned, Angela had chosen the middle of the night to make her escape. Loading her mare into a trailer and her dog, Trixie, into one of the trucks, she made her escape and headed for the Pacific Northwest. If nothing else she would at least have a good head start on Mason’s trackers.

There were a couple of ways she could have chosen to make the journey west. She almost headed north and followed the Canadian border west. As it was, to take the back roads instead of the main interstate seemed the safest way to go, especially hauling Piper. A truck pulling a horse trailer would have stood out like a beacon on a main interstate.

With the previous arrangements already made to rendezvous with Max Banner at the Pacific Northwest Intergalactic Spaceport, she wasn’t sure what to do since she would now get there way too early, and what would she do with the animals while waiting? Hopefully it won’t be too much trouble to bump up the rendezvous a week or two earlier.

She would love to be a fly on the wall when Mason finds out. She could just envision his fury. She could picture him, uncouth and foul-mouthed as he threatened his men to find her or else. Though her face hurt to grin, Angela couldn’t help grinning at how smoothly she’d pulled it off. And knowing Mason, he’d figure she was just stupid enough to try to escape him on the new highway—at least Angela was counting on him thinking that. And the very fact that no one had discovered her yet, only confirmed her hopes that Mason was not checking the old Interstate for her. At least not yet.

Hopefully, he hadn’t put security tracers on the work trucks. Tracers were a theft defense that he had automatically installed on the other vehicles. Angela prayed that the work truck and horse trailer were not important enough to have a tracer on them. Again, she felt sure she would have been caught by now otherwise.

With a trailing cloud of dust in her wake and having maneuvered around literally dozens of “Abandoned Highway” blockades, she had just crossed over the Indiana border into Illinois. The first blush of dawn was beginning to brighten the eastern sky behind her. In the distance to the west, the city lights of Danberg were glowing as she approached on old I-74. Nearly thirty-six hours had passed since leaving South Carolina. And actually, she had made pretty good time, but she needed to find a place to pull over and rest—somewhere quiet and secluded where she could let Trixie out again, check on her mare, call Rae, and hopefully catch an hour’s sleep before pulling back onto the road.

Her shoulder and arm were aching fiercely from when Mason roughly yanked her up off the floor by one arm. And it hadn’t helped to be struggling with the steering wheel as the truck lurched down the old unimproved Interstate.

At last spying a good place to pull over, she steered the rig onto the shoulder of the abandon highway to park beneath a stand of tall timber. The trees grew close together and hung out over the highway enough so that they completely cloaked her truck and trailer from any eyes-in-the-sky. Eyes that Mason may have out searching for her.

The first thing she did was let Trixie out then she went back to check on Piper. If her entire body didn’t hurt so badly, she would have gotten the mare out and walked her around a bit. But Angela just didn’t have the strength to muscle a nervous mare. It was all she could do to force herself to freshen Piper’s water, give her a handful of grain and a flake of hay.

“Now to call Rae,” she murmured as she limped back to the truck and climbed in behind the wheel. Retrieving her personal messenger from her travel pack, she punched in Rae’s code then settled back for the wait. Knowing from experience that it would be a long wait considering the call was traveling from Earth to Acacia, she leaned back, closed her eyes and waited.

Two hours and forty minutes later… “Hello? Angie? Are you there? … Hello?”

Angela awoke with a start and scrambled for her messenger. “Hello? Rae, I’m here!”

“There you are. What’s going on?”

Blinking back tears at the sound of Rae’s voice, Angela was unable to speak past the lump in her throat. “Oh…” she finally managed in a tiny, strained voice. “Just Mason.”

“What’s he done now? Everything’s still on, isn’t it?”

“Well, that’s what I’m calling about. Yes. Everything is still on, but I left Mason last night.” Angela went on, telling what had happened, how Mason had become violent again, how he had said she couldn’t have Piper, and that she had six days to get out.

“So, you left last night?”

“Yes. After he stormed out of the house.”

“Does he know you left?”

“I would imagine he does by now.” Angela said. “And that I’ve taken Piper with me.”

“Where are you now?”

“I Just crossed over into Illinois. I’m not even half way across the states yet. I need time to heal up before I can make it much farther.”

“He beat you again. Right?”

In answer Angela turned the camera on herself, “This is what just my face looks like. And the rest of me doesn’t look much better. I have bruises on top of bruises.”

She heard Rae’s gasp upon seeing the picture. “What the hell did he do to you?”

“The usual. Only worse this time.”

“That sonofa—”

“Plus… I think he was responsible, or at least involved in planning the accident that killed my parents. He basically admitted it.” Angela blinked back more tears that were threatening to fall.

“Oh Angie, I am so sorry. I’m glad you’re finally out of there. Listen,” Rae said fervently, “you need a safe place to rest up for at least three weeks if not four. And I think I might just know someone you can stay with. I’m hoping she won’t be too far off course from where you are. She has horses and would be able to keep Piper for you while you recover. Tell me again, where exactly are you?”

“Just outside of Danberg, Illinois on old I-74.”

“Okay, let me see how close you two are—or if this is even doable for you.” Rae was silent for a moment as she quickly began skimming over a map she’d pulled up. “You say you’re on the old highway? The one that’s closed, right? Not the new one.”

“Yes, the old one.”

From there, Rae entered both her friend’s address and Angela’s location. More silence. Then… “Angie! Good news. She’s about a hundred miles northwest of you! Basically, right on your way. What time is it there now?”

Angela glanced at the chronometer mounted in the truck’s dash. “It’s five forty in the morning.”

“Okay. Tell me… are you safe where you are?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“Good. Then stay put. I’m going to wait another half hour before I call Nora. It may take a while to get back to you, but I’ll get back as soon as I can.”

“Okay…” The tears started falling. “Rae, I don’t know how to thank you,” she said softly.

“Nonsense. You’d do the same for me. Now, you stay put and if you can, try to catch some sleep while you’re waiting.”

“I’ll try.”

~ * ~

Rae’s friend, Nora, had proven to be a godsend. A throwback from the mid nineteen sixties, it was as if Nora was straight out of the hippie generation—best known back then for their peace marches and love-your-neighbor lifestyle.

Somewhere in her fifties and widowed, Nora was a beautiful woman, tall and slender with coppery skin, dark eyes and a ready smile. Long salt and pepper hair hung in a single thick braid to the small of her back with a black tipped eagle feather secured in it. Circling her head was a delicately braided leather crown band that spanned her forehead. Several turquoise beads were woven into the band, and on her feet were a pair of calf-high bleached leather moccasins with fringe and more turquoise beads to match the crown band. She wore a chambray blouse and a mid-length denim skirt that just barely met the top of her moccasins when she walked.

It was an unusual look, but Nora was an unusual woman that seemed very comfortable in her chosen style.

Rae had explained enough of Angela’s predicament that Nora jumped at the chance to help out. She just so happened to have a fully furnished garage-apartment that had recently become vacant. With one bedroom, a large living room, kitchen and full bath, it was perfect. There was even room in the barn to hide Angela’s truck and trailer from prying eyes.

Upon seeing for herself the condition Angela was in, Nora immediately told her not to worry about Piper or Trixie, promising that they would want for nothing. Later that next day, she shared with Angela that she was of Native American descent and that her great, great, great grandmother was a full-blooded Lakota Sioux Medicine Woman. Nora explained that much of her grandmother’s knowledge had been passed down to her through the generations. “If it’s alright,” Nora asked kindly, “I would like very much to treat your worst injuries during your stay. I know I can speed the healing for you.”

At Angela’s consent, Nora quickly disappeared, returning with a colorful and intricately woven basket laden with a mug and a decanter containing some sort of tea. Also in the basket lay a small bowl with a white paste-like mixture that Nora said was a combination of freshly ground oak gall and the juice of milkweed.

She handed the tea mixture to Angela “Drink it all,” she said, “it’s white willow bark tea. And to answer any concerns you might have, it’s a weak mixture and won’t hurt you. But it will help with the pain.” The tea was cool and felt like heaven to her dry mouth and throat, and despite its bitterness, she drank it all.

Nora then asked Angela to lie down on a nearby cot. From there she began a thorough examination, gently touching, poking and nudging every inch of Angela’s battered body from head to foot until she was satisfied. By the time Nora was done, Angela’s clothing had been embarrassingly reduced to simply her under things.

“Well, other than one fractured rib, at least you don’t have any other broken bones, although I am afraid your shoulder will take more skill than I am able to offer. You will need to see a physician.” She then reached for the bowl with the white paste and using her fingers she began gently smoothing the paste on all the areas of scraped and broken skin. And as she applied the paste, Nora murmured strange words in a soft, musical, chant-like dialect.

At last Nora straightened and began replacing her supplies back in the basket. “It’s a miracle your baby is unharmed,” she said as a matter of fact.

Angela’s jaw dropped. “How di… How did you know I’m pregnant?”

Nora’s knowing smile was subtle as she replied, “I knew you were with child the instant you drove onto the property.”

~ * ~

What Angela thought might be as long as two weeks, had turned into four weeks and ready or not, it was time to head back onto the road.

Thanks to Nora’s continued attentions, the worst of Angela’s bruising and scrapes had faded to the point of being hardly noticeable. Her shoulder, however, was an entirely different story. It was just as painful as ever, and Nora, in a motherly fashion, cautioned Angela not to stress her shoulder any more than absolutely necessary. And once she got to the Banners, she should see a physician.

Promising she would, Angela offered to pay Nora for the use of the apartment as well as Nora’s excellent care of herself and her animals, but Nora wouldn’t have it, saying the apartment was empty anyway and that she had her own horses and dog to care for. What’s one more? As for her care of Angela…she explained that she would not take payment for that. Healing was a gift bestowed upon her by her ancestors, to be used without restriction or payment. Still, Angela handed her a small clutch of credits that was more than enough to cover the feed and care she had given to Piper and Trixie.

What no one but Angela knew was that she had electronically cleared out Mason’s bank account when she left him. So, she had plenty of credits to travel with and get settled once she found a place to live.

It wasn’t long before she was slowly backing the truck and trailer out of the barn and loading up Piper. Once again, she thanked Nora for everything and with a hug and a wave goodbye, she turned out onto the road and headed for the old interstate to continue her trek west.

As the countryside whizzed by, Angela thought back to the very first time she had accompanied her father on one of his many business trips to Acacia to meet with Rae’s father, Max Banner. She’d been almost twelve at the time, and she and Rae had formed a fast friendship. As time passed—even after her father no longer had business connections with Max—Angela would often make the trip alone to spend the entire Solstice on Acacia with Rae and her family. Early teens by then, the girls had always managed to find plenty of fun and giggles between sharing secrets, their love of horses, and their growing interest in boys.

And now she had been in touch with Rae almost daily over the past month. Since leaving Nora, arrangements had once again been made to rendezvous at the Pacific Northwest Intergalactic Spaceport. Only this time Rae had explained that her father would not be the one picking her up as originally planned. He had business obligations this time so her brother, Clint, would be the one meeting her at the spaceport. “You remember Clint, don’t you?” Rae had asked innocently, to which Angela had responded by faking a foggy memory. “Clint. He’s your oldest brother. Right?” Little did Rae know that even as an early teen, Angela had had a girlhood crush on Clint from the first day she had met him.

Clint… he always had a beautiful girl at his side back then and hardly knew Angela even existed.

By the time Angela was almost eighteen, she had returned for another six-week visit. The memory was still vivid as she thought back to that sultry evening. The Banner family had gathered at the main house for dinner. One of the few times when everyone was able to get together.

Angela had stepped out onto the back porch to find Clint standing at the porch rail, deep in thought as he gazed out over the landscape.

“I wondered where you’d disappeared to?” Angela said, stepping out to join him. “Aren’t you going to have dessert?”

“Tell Delta I’ll take it to go.”

“You’re not leaving already, are you?”

“‘Fraid I have an early get-up in the morning.”

Angela stepped closer. “Where are you heading off to this time, Clint?”

He straightened to his full height and turned to face her. “Terrace.”

“Terrace? Doesn’t it take a long time just to get there?”

“Nine weeks.”

“Oh… then I imagine you’ll still be gone by the time I head back home.”

“Yeah, no doubt.”

“Well, then I might as well say goodbye now.” Feeling as if she were drawn into a trance, impulsively she raised up on tiptoe and timidly pressed her mouth to his cheek. Then, horrified by what she had just done, she quickly stepped back.

Clint grinned. “That was real nice, sunshine,” he said, “but I think we can say goodbye, a little better than that.” And before Angela knew what he was about, he had drawn her into his arms and kissed her full on the mouth.

A flash of heat streaked through her, making her heart throb. Her knees buckled, and only his arm about her waist kept her on her feet. Stunned, Angela found herself, for one passionate moment, kissing him back.

When he finally released his hold on her, she simply remained in his loose embrace, blushing feverishly as she looked up into his face. He was so tall, so handsome… and so—

“Well, Bro, I certainly hope we’re not interrupting anything,” Nick said as he and Zeke, with stupid grins on their faces, stepped out onto the porch.

With a squeal of distress, Angela tore herself out of Clint’s arms. Brushing past Nick and Zeke, she disappeared into the house. She’d barely gotten out of sight before she heard a burst of male laughter as Nick razzed Clint about robbing the cradle.

~ * ~

It wasn’t long after he returned from Terrace that Clint had applied for, and was accepted at the University of Texas for their Petroleum Geology program. His focus was on a BA degree. Once he had graduated, he had returned to Acacia and applied for off-campus schooling to earn his Masters.

And now, five years had passed since Angela had last seen Clint. It had been during the time when he was attending the University. She had initially invited him to come for Christmas, and that was the beginning of a friendship that grew to be more than simply friends. When graduation time came and Clint was preparing to return to Acacia, he’d asked Angela to return with him. By then things had gotten serious enough that they had discussed marriage. Discussed, however, was the key word. Angela was crazy about him—had been for years—would have married him in a heartbeat. Clint, although seemingly serious about her, had never officially asked her to marry him. He did, however, talk about needing to find a job while working on his Masters. Another thing that concerned Angela was that to her knowledge, Clint had never mentioned anything to his family about their relationship. If he had, Rae obviously would have known about it. In truth, Angela was never sure just where exactly she fit into Clint’s life. Therefore, when her father asked her to stay at least six months until he could find a replacement for her in the accounting department of Southern Charm Development, she agreed. Southern Charm was a growing property development partnership between her father and Mason’s father, George Cooper.

Clint reluctantly complied with her decision to stay back until they hired a replacement. However, after the first month or two, he quit contacting her—just stopped entirely. And no matter how many times she had sent messages off to him, he never responded. Consequently, she remained permanently in South Carolina and ended up seeing more and more of George’s son, Mason, who’d been treating her like a queen. It was only inevitable that Mason would cast a shadow on her fascination with Clint. And when Mason asked her to marry him, she’d said yes.

With a sigh, Angela lifted her sights and gazed into the distance. Tranquil mountains lay miles ahead, reaching into the sky with their muted shades of purples and blues. Just another mountain range in a list of several she had yet to cross before arriving at SeaPort.

So, what would she say to Clint? What would he say? Did he know she’d gotten married and was now in the process of a divorce? And what about him? Was he married? Without a doubt, it was going to be awkward, and she steeled herself for their inevitable meeting when the time came.

CHAPTER ONE

Pacific Northwest Intergalactic Spaceport

Helluva way to break-in a new ship. Leaning back against the massive landing jack of the Aris, Clint Banner mulled over the lame excuse his family had trumped-up to talk him into this trip. Hey, Clint, how’d ya like to take the Aris on her maiden voyage? It was a trip that his dad had originally planned to make a few weeks back, but things had ended up being postponed until now. Normally, Clint would have jumped at the opportunity to take a new ship on her maiden voyage. Truth was, he had responsibilities at home that made it difficult to leave for the two-month round trip to Earth and back. Yet the temptation was just too irresistible to pass up. Despite the fact that the consignment, as they called it, was a horse, it was a birthday present for his sister and he would have done it anyway.

Some guy named Wayne would be accompanying the mare, so all he had to do was make the rendezvous on time and transport them back. Seemed simple enough.

With a compressed sigh he glanced down at his watch. Twenty-three hundred hours on the nose. Well, he’d kept his end of the deal, over two hours ago to be exact, and so far, no horse. Having arrived early, he’d managed to stay busy by grabbing a quick bite at one of the spaceport cafes. He’d also picked up a few special requests to bring back home from Earth. Then he ran a routine diagnostic on the ship’s system and finally entered return trip coordinates into the NAVCOMP.

Thing was, at this rate it wouldn’t be long before he’d have to extend the use of the landing pad, which would be a pain in the butt because you don’t just do it electronically like most ports. Instead, you have to show up in person at the main terminal. So typical of Earth regulations. Why do it the easy way when there’s a hard way?

Absently, he lifted his focus to the high-gloss underbelly of the ship as it reflected the glow of buoy lights circling the perimeter of the landing pad. The Aris was not only the newest addition to BANNER TRANSPORT INC., she was now the second ship in the Banner line that looked like a purebred sitting among the mutts. Clint thought she looked sleek and exotic with her shiny, black and iridescent exterior. To look at her one way, the hull was glossy black, but to look at her from a different angle, subtle iridescent ghost flames seemed to blow back across the sides of her shiny black hull. No doubt about it, she was flashy and gorgeous and unbelievably fast for a mid-sized freight vessel. Even her living quarters were extravagant. In a way, her fancy interior reminded Clint of the Windstar—a yacht his father had purchased a few years back. It didn’t take long to discover the Windstar had been previously owned by a contraband runner who’d had it enhanced in every way imaginable. The discovery had become the source of much laughter as he and his brothers razzed their dad of going pirate.

A distant flash of lightning drew Clint’s attention. According to the locals, the night was unusually warm and muggy—charged—as encroaching clouds slowly blotted the stars from the sky. It was brewing up one doozer of a storm. All the more reason to get the horse loaded and be on their way.

So typical of any busy spaceport, the air was inundated with the combined stench of exhaust and ozone. Out of nowhere a muggy breeze swept across Clint’s heated skin, ruffling a spike of hair down across his forehead. It was the sort of night where idle thoughts drifted to tangled sheets, scented skin and sated needs. A few notable memories came to mind, making it impossible to relax. Leaning back against the column of the landing jack he braced the sole of his boot against the massive footing, folded his arms and waited.

Thunder rumbled on the horizon and again Clint lifted his eyes as another flash brightened the southern sky. It would be raining soon. His gaze slid to the surrounding spaceport. Even at this late hour, the place was abuzz with activity. He’d deliberately requested a landing pad at the far end of the spaceport, hoping for some semblance of isolation and less stress for the mare. Yet in spite of his good intentions, only four vacant landing pads separated him from the rest of the busy port.

So much for isolation.

Located between the merging cities of Seattle and Portland, the Pacific Northwest Intergalactic Spaceport—loosely dubbed SeaPort—serviced the entire Pacific Northwest and was the second largest spaceport on the west coast of the United States. As was common for many Earth-based spaceports, this one was designed with moorings both above as well as below ground. Clint had seen his share of underground moorings, his own home planet, Acacia, being one. The main idea was to compact the port. The lower level also provided a safe quarter for long-term moorage.

A robo-loader lumbered by with three cargo trailers in tow. Clint idly watched it disappear down the corridor and around a curve. As always with a bustling port, there’s never a dull moment. Three bays down, a fight had broken out between a couple of workers. Watching the fight progress into a four-man brawl, Clint winced as a solid punch dropped one man to his knees. Oh yeah, that one hurt. With two younger brothers, Clint was no stranger himself to a good fight. Nick, his hot-headed middle brother always had a knack for settling things with his fists. Those days were gone now. Nick had changed since Tressa came into his life. And now that the baby was born, he’d even quit smoking, which was a miracle in itself.

Clint recalled the recent birth of Nick’s son. Tressa had hoped for a girl. Nick wanted a son. They could have easily predestined the baby’s gender but had chosen the old-fashioned way of leaving things to fate. Clint would never forget the first words out of Nick’s mouth. “She’s a boy!” he announced enthusiastically as he introduced newborn Braeden Maxwell Banner to the family. It was a sight to behold, and one Clint would remember—Nick standing there looking shell shocked while a tiny red-faced bundle voiced his opinion of the world from his father’s ungainly arms.

Didn’t seem possible that such a little package had the power to cast a life-altering spell on the entire Banner clan. Yet the baby had, and Clint was far from immune. In fact, he’d been doing a lot of soul searching lately. At thirty-four he couldn’t help wondering where his life was headed. Running Solarblaze was satisfying and kept him busy, but he wanted more than just running a drilling operation for the rest of his life.

Feminine laughter broke into his thoughts as two attractive women made their way toward a nearby shuttle stop. Though they appeared a cut above the usual variety that hung about the ports, Clint had them pegged nonetheless.

The one with short-spiked dark hair noticed him first and stopped dead in her tracks. “HEL… LO… Oh baby, where have you been hiding? You’re hotter than July fireworks.”

The leggy blonde stepped forward. “Waiting all by yourself tonight, handsome?” she asked with a sultry smile.

“‘Fraid so.”

She sighed. “Not a good night to be kept waiting all by yourself.”

He grinned. “I agree, but wait I must.”

“Want some company?” the brunette asked, cocking a shapely hip. “Because I guarantee that all by myself, I can turn you upside down and inside out with my tongue alone.” She licked her lips in expectation. “And if you’re man enough to handle both of us at once… we can take you places that sexy ship of yours has never been. Together, we can suck the chrome off of—”

Before she had even finished, Clint broke out laughing. He couldn’t help it. Up until now, he thought he’d heard it all. “I’m not sure I’d survive without my chrome,” he said still laughing.

“We’d go easy on you. Promise. You won’t regret it.”

“So, what do you say, darlin’?” the blonde piped up, encroaching a little closer.

At last he stifled his laughter long enough to respond, “Not tonight,” he said in a tone that brooked no argument.

With a collective moan of disappointment, and one last admiring backward glance, the two women turned and continued their trek toward a nearby shuttle stop.

Another flash of lightning spiked down from the sky, once again warning of the on-coming storm. The spaceport was beginning to get busy. The sound of an approaching open shuttle caught his attention. He watched as three women seated near the rear of the shuttle chatted among themselves. He figured them to be tourists on their way to somewhere special, excited and laughing over something one of them had said. There was an interesting age-gap between them and he idly wondered if they were friends or family. When the shuttle stopped across the causeway from him to pick up more passengers, the ladies suddenly turned quiet. That’s when he heard, “Lord… have… mercy…” drifting across the tarmac. The older of the three was looking directly at him. Elbowing the others, and with a jerk of her head, she had all three of them gawking his direction. Clint casually glanced about to see what the hell they were craning their necks over.

As if on cue, another clap of thunder rumbled across the sky, and as the shuttle began pulling away, all three ladies continued staring. The youngest, who looked to be no more than a teenager, smiled shyly and waved at him with an index finger. With a cordial nod, he smiled back. The oldest of the three said something to her companions and with a bit of drama, frantically fanned her face with a splayed hand. The last woman simply stared until the shuttle disappeared around a curve. Like smoke in the wind, their chatter and peals of giggles drifted into the night air.

With a heavy sigh, Clint looked away. He used to soak up that sort of female admiration—thrived on it. Not so much anymore. As of late, he’d found himself needing more than the casual passage of women through his life. Plain and simple, he wanted what Nick and Zeke both had. The feeling wasn’t new. This longing had been gnawing away at him for months. He’d had his share of gorgeous women over the years. It was past time he settled down. He needed a family to love, and to be loved in return. He wanted kids and a wife to come home to at the end of the day—a woman to share his life instead of a “trophy” hanging on his arm for all to see. Oh, it was fun back then—when he, Nick and Zeke were all in direct competition to see who could outdo the other when it came to beautiful women. But those days were gone. Times had changed.

For now, however, it was impossible to move forward with his life until he extricated himself from the one problem that was still hanging on. Shelbi, who couldn’t, wouldn’t accept that it was over between them and time to move on.

To be truthful, he actually found it surprising that right now he was drawing any female attention at all. He was sure he looked pretty rough, given the fact that he was not only windblown, but he hadn’t shaved since he’d left Acacia two weeks ago. But judging from the unbidden attention he’d gotten so far, who knows, maybe Pacific Northwest women just happen to like their men unkempt. He silently laughed. For all he knew, rough might be the latest trend these days. If so, he was right in style.