"A touching story revealing the feelings of two people dealing with a difficult situation."
Reviewed by Kay Quintin
Posted January 6, 2011
Romance Contemporary
After 15 years, Clay Sullivan and Celeste Wells meet again
at their high school reunion. Clay, coming from a
prestigious family of money and respectability, is divorced
from Celeste's twin, Zoie, and living in Miners Bluff.
Having sole custody of his young daughter Abby, Clay's
livelihood is giving tours of the Grand Canyon and
surrounding areas, much to his banker father's disapproval
at not following in his footsteps. Celeste was the surrogate mother for Clay and Zoie, since
Zoie was unable to have children. Then Zoie chose an
entirely different lifestyle, gave sole custody of Abby to
Clay and moved on. Celeste, feeling her maternal instincts,
wants to move permanently to Miners Bluff and become
instilled in Abby's life. What Clay doesn't know is that
Celeste has harbored a crush on him since high school, even
though he chose the more aggressive and exciting sister.
With Zoie's return and Clay's father throwing obstacles in
front of their developing relationship, doubts begin to
form in Clay's mind if Celeste is only using him to find a
way to Abby. Karen Rose Smith has created another very cute human-
interest story revealing the deepest feelings of two people
caught up in a very difficult situation. Celeste becomes a
very strong and loving "mother" image for the child with
the hope she will not be torn from her again. Giving up
this child for her sister and Clay was the most difficult
thing she has ever done, as well as giving up her dreams of
the one man she has always longed for. I thoroughly enjoyed
this first book in the Reunion Brides series.
SUMMARY
Sisters in love with the same boy in high school. How deeply can a twin really know a twin? Growing up seemed
to have changed
Celeste's and Zoie's bond. Can they find their way back to
each other if Celeste finds
love with Zoie's ex-husband? As a surrogate for Zoie and Clay, Celeste expected to give
her twin and her husband
and child and then walk away But when Zoie abandons her
husband and daughter,
abdicating all responsibility, Celeste's heart insists she
step in. She yearns to be a
mother and Abby needs one. But will Clay trust a woman
enough again, to love and
need a wife?
ExcerptClay Sullivan strode into the cafeteria of his old high
school. He hadn't even wanted to come to his fifteen-year
reunion, yet he knew the confrontation he was going to have
with Celeste Wells tonight was inevitable. He hardly noticed the blue and yellow streamers that
zigzagged across the ceiling, and ignored the classmates
who mingled and huddled in groups around their old
yearbooks. Catching sight of Celeste, talking with a group
of women, a feeling of dread pulled tight across his chest. Celeste rose when she saw him. Her light brown hair
shimmered with highlights from the summer sun. The
strapless dress with pastel flowers decorating the full
skirt showed off her creamy shoulders to perfection. She
looked like his ex-wife—her fraternal twin sister—and at
first glance, he'd almost mistaken her for Zoie. That was one mistake he couldn't afford to make. "How are you?" Celeste asked as he approached her
table. Her green eyes showed compassion. Was that an
act? Like the one Zoie had put on for so long? "I'm here because you e-mailed that you wanted to see
me," he responded, his voice gruff. "How long are you
staying in Miners Bluff? Just tonight? Through the
weekend?" Celeste's cheeks flush as she seemed to think over
what she wanted to say. Before she could answer him, music began to play at
the other side of the room.
Celeste asked hopefully, "Do you want to go somewhere
else and talk?" He intended to keep this short and sweet. He didn't
want to give Celeste an inch. He thought about his three-
and-a-half year old daughter at home in her pj's, playing
with her doll house. Abby was the sole reason he got up
each morning. She was the last person he thought of before
he went to sleep each night. Zoie had signed away her
rights and he had sole custody. That was the way it was
going to stay. "We can talk here. I don't think anyone's going to
interrupt us." Not with the tension buzzing around them
like a force-field, ready to singe anyone who came too
close. Celeste had always been the quiet, understated twin—
in the way she dressed, the way she moved, and the way she
spoke. But now he saw something new come over
her...something that put fire in those green eyes and a
determined set to her pretty mouth. She took a step closer to him and the scent of
honeysuckle titillated his senses. He wondered crazily if
his large hands would span her slim waist. He stopped the
thought before it had a chance to tickle his libido. "Have you heard from Zoie recently?" she asked in a
low voice. "Not since she signed the divorce papers a year ago.
The last I heard she was traveling through France."
"You mean she hasn't contacted you at all about
Abby?" Celeste sounded shocked and he had to wonder if she
really knew her sister. "Are you so surprised? She's wanted to escape
responsibility for a long time." Celeste clasped his forearm in obvious sympathy and
said softly, "Clay." He felt unexpected heat on his skin and he pulled
away, startled by it. He and Celeste had never been more
than friends. He shouldn't feel "heat" where she was
concerned. "It's over, Celeste. I should have realized
that before we had Abby." He wanted to walk away, go back to his house in the
foothills of Moonshadow Mountain where he could wall out
everything but his daughter. Yet he couldn't look away
from the compassion in Celeste's eyes. He couldn't look
away from the understanding only she could have because she
knew his history with Zoie from the beginning to the end—
and she had played her own role in their drama. Suddenly the music from the speakers blared louder.
The DJ called, "Everybody find a partner." Jenny Farber, one of the women Celeste had been
conversing with when he'd walked in, came up to them and
tapped both of their shoulders. "Come on, you two. Join
in."
Clay had heard Jenny had helped organize this
reunion. She was the manager of the Rocky D, a big spread
outside of the town limits. He used their horses for his
wilderness excursions. He liked Jenny and knew she was
trying to help lighten up the atmosphere between him and
Celeste. But he doubted if anything could do that. "Come on," Jenny encouraged them again. "It's
nineties music at its best." Maybe dancing with Celeste would throw her off her
game...would divert her attention...would transport them
into small talk instead of conversation about her and Abby. "Do you want to dance?" he suggested. Yet as soon as
he asked, the thought of holding Celeste in his arms made
his gut clench. What had he gotten himself into? # As Celeste gazed at Clay's ruggedly chiseled face,
his unruly dark-brown hair, her stomach almost did back
flips. He'd never know it, but he'd been her one and only
crush until her extroverted sister had swept him away.
Celeste hadn't had a chance. She'd made peace with that
fact a long time ago. But tonight wasn't about the past.
It was about her future with Abby. "Sure, I'll dance with you," she answered, her heart
racing because so much was on the line tonight.
When Clay's arm went around her, she felt as awkward
as a teenager and wondered what was going through his
head. Was he remembering the hikes they'd taken on
Moonshadow Mountain before he'd dated Zoie? What about the
afterschool gatherings when chocolate milk was the beverage
of choice? Even then, though, the zing had been between
him and Zoie and Celeste hadn't known how to make him
really look at her. He left enough space between them so she could look
up and study his expression. But his steady gray eyes told
her nothing. Tall and muscled, yet lean, his body so close
to hers caused her throat to tighten and her mouth to go
dry. Ever since Zoie's departure, Celeste had waited and
waited and waited for a signal from Clay that he was ready
for her to be a part of his daughter's life. But he hadn't
given her one. So she'd planned to use this reunion as a
stepping stone to get to know the little girl. "Who's with Abby tonight?" Celeste asked, hoping
fireworks wouldn't erupt at that question. "My mom." That was a surprise. Violet Sullivan was a society
matron and the way she'd felt about Zoie, Celeste was
afraid she wouldn't take her granddaughter under her wing. "Does she babysit often?" "She watches Abby while I work." Celeste apparently couldn't keep her surprise from
showing because Clay added, "After Zoie left, she stepped
right in. She said those young babysitters Zoie used
didn't know the first thing about taking care of a child." It was hard for Celeste to imagine Clay's mother as
cuddly and warm. She'd always seemed so forbidding and
proper, so against Clay's dating Zoie and hanging around
with Celeste because they were from the wrong side of the
tracks.
Silence fell over them as music swelled, bringing
back memories of high school dances, a ride home in Clay's
car before he and Zoie left to spend time together, hours
spent listening to music on her Walkman in her and Zoie's
small bedroom above the bar where their mother worked. Clay's arm tightened as a couple brushed past them.
The dance floor seemed to shrink until there was just the
two of them. Her breath caught and she knew she should
push away. But the scent of Clay's cologne, the feel of
his body against hers, created sensations she hadn't felt—
hadn't let herself feel—for a very long time. Clay's stubbled jaw tensed and she expected him to
put more space between them again, but he didn't. Instead,
he asked, "Are you still working for that graphic design
firm in Phoenix?" Work. That should be easy to talk about. "No. I
went out on my own and have a client list now. I create
websites for businesses. Do you need one?" she asked,
teasingly. "I've always been busy enough with word of mouth and
ads in the right places that I didn't have to worry about
that." He was a tour guide who led excursions around the
area, traveling mostly to nearby Flagstaff, north to the
Grand Canyon, and south to Sedona. Miners Bluff, too,
pulled in its share of sightseers who were curious about
this former copper mining town. She guessed he wanted to lead the conversation away
from Abby. But she wanted to dive right in while they were
face to face. "Designing websites makes me portable. I
can do it from anywhere. I don't have to live in Phoenix."
"Celeste..." She heard the warning note in Clay's voice and knew
she couldn't postpone the reason she'd come to the reunion
any longer. "I want to see Abby. I want to spend time
with her." Clay's booted feet stopped moving for a moment. They were still in the midst of dancing couples. Out
of the corner of her eye, Celeste barely registered Mikala
Conti dancing with Dawson Barrett, Riley O'Rourke smiling
down at Brenna McDougall, Chief of Police Noah Stone
leaning against the wall, watching them all. After what seemed like eons—during which Celeste
didn't know if Clay was going to break away or resume
dancing—his hand tightened on hers and he guided her away
from the other dancers to a shadowed corner which, for the
time being, was empty of classmates. There he confronted her. "What do you want?" The protective fierceness on his face should have
scared her, but it didn't. This was Clay, the boy she'd
known in high school, the young man who'd married her
sister, the adult who had taken Zoie back after an affair,
who'd tried to save his marriage by starting a family.
"I want to get to know Abby. I'd like to be a part
of her life." It was obvious Clay was greatly troubled by that idea
and she suspected why. She realized she had to give Clay a few minutes to
think about her request. As they stood there close, yet
not touching, she realized her attraction to Clay that had
begun in high school had never gone away. She'd buried it
as far down into her heart as she could. She'd never for a
minute considered it would rise up to bite her now when she
least expected it...now when she wanted Abby to be her only
concern.
Finally Clay broke the silence between them. "All
right." He checked his watch. "Abby might still be up.
Why don't you come see that she's safe and loved? Then you
can go back to Phoenix assured she has the best home." He was purposely misunderstanding what she wanted,
which was to see Abby regularly. But she wasn't going to
propose that now when he was giving her this opening. "Let's go," she decided before Clay could change his
mind. #
Clay was aware of the swish of Celeste's skirt as she
proceeded him up the lit walk to his house, a log home
nestled among Douglas firs and aspen. He must be
certifiably crazy to ask her back here. Holding her in his
arms, something had happened to him. Maybe because he
hadn't been with a woman since before his separation and
divorce, his body had responded to her. Whatever the
reason, he'd felt an arousal he hadn't wanted to feel. Maybe she'd leave after this visit and his life would
go back to the normal he was trying so hard to find. "It's been a while since I've been here," she said
with an almost shy smile as she glanced at him over her
shoulder. The motion caused her shawl to slip and he
automatically reached for it. As they'd left the school,
the July night had turned cooler and she'd slung the
delicate, crocheted wrap around her. Every movement of
Celeste's was graceful and natural. He'd always noticed
that when they'd hiked. Zoie's movements had been more
frenetic, some calculated to entice, others just meant to
gain notice. Clay lifted the end of the shawl over her shoulder.
His hand brushed her hair, which felt as silky as it had
looked when they were dancing. That same ripple of sensual
awareness coursed through him again and he mentally swore,
frustrated with himself and the situation. When Celeste's gaze met his, for a moment he forgot
where he was. He forgot everything but the two of them
standing there on the sidewalk outside his house.
"I love the scent of the evergreens all around your
property. And the petunias look lovely." All he could smell now was the scent of Celeste's
perfume. "Abby likes flowers so I asked Mom's gardener to
plant a few. If we're lucky and the cold holds off, they
could last through September." "I don't miss the winter snow," Celeste said with a
laugh. "But I do miss the green. I prefer firs to
Saguaros." "Where are you staying while you're in Miners Bluff?" "In one of the guest suites at Mikala's aunt's. The
Purple Pansy Bed and Breakfast doesn't have a lot of rooms,
but I think it's still one of the most hospitable places to
stay in town." "How is Ms. Conti?" He should have guessed Celeste
would be staying near Mikala—one of her best friends from
high school—but he thought this time of year the B&B might
not have a vacancy. "Anna doesn't seem to let anything get her down." "I hear good things about Mikala's music therapy
practice. I took a family sightseeing who'd driven up from
Sedona so their daughter could spend a week in sessions
with her."
"She never discusses her clients." "No, but her clients discuss her, and you know how
gossip makes the rounds in Miners Bluff." "Oh, yes," Celeste murmured as they climbed the porch
steps, then stood at his front door. "Quicker than a high-
speed train." Celeste's mother had been a target of the whispering
chain around town. There had been rumors about her morals
and the kind of life she'd led. She supposedly spent
afternoon to midnight at the bar drinking with the
clientele and slept with men who were patrons. She left
her daughters alone too much of the time. Yet Clay knew
rumors never told the whole story. Clay had liked Ms.
Wells. She'd raised Zoie and Celeste on her own the best
she could. Her death when the twins were in their twenties
had hit them both hard. After Clay took out his key, he cast a glance at
Celeste and saw she was biting her lip. She was nervous.
Nervous about not knowing what to expect with Abby? Or
nervous about seeing his mother again? She'd spent
Christmas with them all the year before Abby was born. She
hadn't been back here since. Clay opened the door, stepped back into the life he
knew, the life he liked...the life he was satisfied with
now. Celeste was right behind him. He realized little had changed from the way the house
had looked a few years ago. He had exchanged the
outlandishly colored sofa Zoie had wanted for a more muted
blue plaid one. The gleaming hardwood floors, the dark
rafters across the ceiling, the stone fireplace with its
mantle had remained the same.
"Great TV," Celeste joked with a smile. He had to admit, yes, that was new,
too. "Multipurpose. Not only does it allow Abby to watch
her movies in almost life-size proportions, but I can run
my footage of trips and wilderness treks, really seeing
what I've got." He gave her a wink. "I could do my e-mail
on here, too, if I really wanted to." She just shook her head. "I'm having trouble keeping
up with technology and it's part of my business. Sometimes
I wonder—" A child's cry sounded down the left hall off the
great room. "Abby!" Clay called and hurried down the hall to the
wing of bedrooms. In that moment, when his daughter needed
him, he forgot about Celeste and why she'd come. Clay's mom who must have been sitting in the rocker
reading—her book lay open on the chair—sat on Abby's canopy
bed, holding her arms out to her granddaughter. But Abby
huddled near the pale pink wall, crying as if her heart
were breaking. "She had another bad dream," his mother said.
Abby had been having bad dreams on and off ever since
Zoie had left two years ago. She couldn't possibly
remember her mother, but he understood when a child's world
changed, everything went topsy-turvy no matter how
resilient they were supposed to be. Clay crossed the room quickly, sat on the bed and
gathered Abby into his arms. "Hey, ladybug. What's wrong?" Abby shook her head and hiccupped, tears still
running down her chubby cheeks. Out of the corner of his eye, he was aware of Celeste
in the doorway. He saw his mother's frown and knew she was
aware of her, too. He couldn't deal with Celeste now. In
fact, he wished she'd leave. But Celeste didn't leave. She looked uncertain—as if
she might get thrown out—but she crossed the room
slowly...as if she couldn't stay away. She knelt down
before Abby and said in a soft voice, "That must have been
a very bad dream. But your daddy's here now. He can
protect you." Abby glanced up to look at Clay, but then ducked her
head down again, almost as if she were trying to crawl into
herself. "Daddy's not always here." "I'm here, honey, when your daddy's not." Violet
Sullivan's voice sounded disappointed that her
granddaughter didn't know that. As if Celeste recognized that children didn't employ
reason to come to a conclusion, she delved into Abby's
world. "I'll bet your very favorite stuffed animal could
protect you. I bet he could hold your hand all night if you
wanted." Sniffling, Abby peered up at Celeste. "Granny says I
shouldn't sleep with my bears."
Clay glanced at his mother, then asked Abby, "Why is
that?" Abby explained, "She says they get dusty on the
shelf." Clay cleared his throat, unaware that interchange had
ever happened. "If you think you'd like to sleep with one
of your stuffed friends, we can make an exception tonight.
Sometime soon maybe we can give them all a bath, then
you'll be able to choose any one you want." Abby removed her little arms from around her dad,
swiped her wrist across her nose, and studied Celeste for
what seemed like an eternity. Then she squiggled to the
edge of her pretty pink sheets and asked, "Will you come
back and help me give them a baf?" Clay could see that Celeste felt caught between what
she wanted to do and what he might allow her to do. She
answered, "I'll talk to your dad about that."
Abby just kept gazing into Celeste's face as if she
were trying to figure something out. Clay knew what. This
woman wasn't Zoie...but she was close. Suddenly Abby held her arms out to Celeste and
without hesitation, Celeste took his little girl into her
embrace, her eyes shiny with emotion. She sat on the edge
of the bed, not far from Clay, and held Abby, reverently
brushing her long brown hair from her brow and cuddling her
close. The silence in the room seemed awkward to Clay but
Celeste and Abby didn't seem to notice. They were looking
at each other again. Suddenly Abby asked her, "Can you sing a song?" When Celeste's gaze met Clay's, he gave a resigned
shrug. Tentatively at first, Celeste began singing a song
about favorite things—roses and kittens—and Clay's stomach
clenched. As Celeste's voice grew stronger, he realized it
was the song Zoie had hummed to Abby after she was born.
She hadn't sung it often, only on those rare times when
she'd seemed to want to form a bond with her daughter. Did
Abby remember? She wasn't saying whether she did or
didn't. She was just cuddling into Celeste's body, letting
herself be soothed and rocked, letting her eyes close. After a short while, Celeste bent her head to Abby's
and asked, "Do you think you're ready to go back to bed
now, little one?" His daughter nodded.
Sliding closer to Celeste, Clay was ready to take his
daughter. But Abby shook her head and held on to Celeste
tighter. Celeste looked puzzled as to what to do. "Does she have a favorite toy?" Celeste asked him. Abby's favorite toy. Did he even know which one that
was? He'd been working so many hours lately, and she
changed her mind every couple of months. His mother's voice came from the rocker across the
room. "Try that bear with the blue bow on the shelves.
That seems to be her favorite lately." Clay took it from the shelf and handed it to Abby.
She tucked it under her arm. Celeste asked, "Do you think you and your bear can go
to sleep now?" Abby's little hand settled on Celeste's cheek. Then
she nodded and curled into a ball on the bed. Oh so gently, Celeste covered her with the sheet as
Abby smiled sleepily, tucking the bear tighter into her
side, then closed her eyes, gave a soft sigh, and seemed to
drift into sleep.
Celeste looked as if she never wanted to move. Clay went to her and touched her elbow. She
reluctantly stood and accompanied him out of the room, but
not until she glanced over her shoulder for a long last
look at the sleeping child. His mother followed them into
the great room, and once there the three adults seemed
stymied as to where to begin. Clay could decipher the look
in his mother's eyes that said she still didn't approve of
the Wells twins, and she certainly didn't approve of
Celeste coming here like this. "It has been a long time, Celeste." Violet Sullivan
patted her sedately coiffed ash blond hair as if she needed
something to do. "Yes, it has," Celeste responded, still glancing down
the hall to Abby's room. Then her full attention focused
on his mother. "I haven't seen you since the Christmas
before Abby was born. That was a wonderful holiday." "Yes, it seemed to be." Clay didn't like the censure in his mother's voice,
didn't like the way it had been there all through his
marriage to Zoie. Celeste, however, didn't deserve it.
Just because his family had descended from the founding
fathers of Miners Bluff, just because his family had always
been well-off, was no reason for his mother to look down on
Celeste—especially after what she'd done for him. "Mom, could you sit with Abby while Celeste and I
talk? She might wake up again." After a long look that showed her worry, his mother
returned to his daughter. "Let's go outside," he said gruffly to Celeste and
headed for the front door. He knew what had just happened
between Abby and Celeste had to be addressed and addressed
now. Because Celeste Wells was more than a concerned aunt. She was Abby's surrogate mother.
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