"That's it, Kourt. You're done. I'll finish that stall. Sit yourself on that bench and wait for me. Hear me? I'll get someone else to do the boarders' barn if I don't get to it before we're called to breakfast. In the meantime, I want—"

"I'm finishing this stall; so don't baby me, Storm! Get someone else to do the boarder's barn if you want to.. I don't care—make Clark and Tarrah do it! But—just let me help with the foals—"

"Kourtnay! We've been through this!"

"I'm fine. Really, Storm. I'm—it's just a little stiff, today. That's all!"

Karla Storm Deverill Van Kirk leaned on her shovel and eyed her younger sister with undisguised skepticism. "Don't hand me that! That hip is more than just stiff today, Kourtnay! You're as stubborn as Thomasyna, you know it? You are not fine, and I can't let you do any more. No, don't fight me on this. Please, go sit!"

"Ah, Storm, I can finish it. It's almost breakfast time. I can sit then!"

Stormi gazed into her sister's gray eyes and fought the natural urge to give in to Kourtnay's pleadings. It was, after all, her fault Kourtnay was disabled. Not that Kourtnay had ever held it against her. Although, everyone else did. Well-not everyone . . . just their parents, Uncle Greggory and a few others relatives. Any of her family's friends or acquaintances who chose to listen to them didn't much matter. She never had to see any of them often enough.

Many of their judgmental observations had to do with her supposed neglect of Kourtnay's condition the past three years. Surely she ought to have considered her sister's sad plight, quit her brainless flight about the country, and gotten Kourtnay help! Others condemned her for not providing Kailey with a more stable home life. A small child need stability-which included besides a real home, both her parents! Really, how selfish it was of her to have dragged both her poor crippled sister and her little daughter away to live here and there in, of all things, a renovated school bus!

"Really, Storm dear," had stated her mother in her most disapproving and condescending manner, "it's like I always say—you're big, beautiful, and brainless! If you weren't my own daughter, I'd accuse you of being blonde under that red hair! How you managed to survive all this time—well, I just can't imagine!"

"Least you could have done was find her some help!" her father had tossed in his two cents. "Should've left her right here, actually! But that's how it is with you! Both of you! You crook your finger and she follows—no thought of her own in her own head!" He'd tossed down a couple swallows of Scotch, smacked his lips, and observed, "Well, at least you came home before Kailey got to be of school age! Give you that!" Grudgingly, though. But she was, by now, used to that.

But it hadn't made for a happy homecoming. If it hadn't been for Stephan and Auntie Irina, she might have dismissed her resolve to return to Rhode Island and make her stand against Dean. They were right about that one thing-even if they didn't see eye to eye on how her problems with ought to be resolved. When it came to her ex husband, they never would see eye to eye.

In any case, she had tried to get Kourtnay help. From several different doctors. Their verdicts had varied from there was nothing that could be done to she'd need a hip replacement at some point. Didn't matter. Her parents lamented Kourtnay's ill considered insistence in staying by Stormi. Now that they were home, she should put herself first and consult the specialists her parents had found for her!

But Kourtnay, always loyal to her older sister, had told them where they could consign those specialists. She was fine, and she didn't need to see anyone! Really, though, had she been able to persuade Kourtnay to remain in Rhode Island back then, she would have been horribly lost without her.

All this ran through her mind in an instant. Now, she said, "Ah, Kourtnay . . .I never should have let you start helping me with the chores. And you have been-from the first day we started working here. Nick's told me, again, that he doesn't want you doing anything that'll aggravate your hip. Actually, it was more than that—it was a command. Although, I don't know why he thinks you'll listen to me any better than you've listened to him! What he should do is make Nicky tell you. Him you'd listen to!"

Kourtnay smiled, blushing deeply. "No, I wouldn't. Not for this. I want to do the morning chores with you, Stormi. I want to do evening chores, too, but—" She huffed an annoyed sigh, and continued, "This is the first place we've been able to work together in over three years. I know I was of more use to you watching Kailey so you could work. No one wanted to hire me, anyway! They wouldn't've hired you, either, if I hadn't been there to watch her for you." She made a sweeping gesture with one slender hand. "But here—DreamWind's different. Nick and Anetra are different! They've given me the same chance to work as they've given you—more or less. And they never once asked you who was going to watch Kailey while we worked. Everyone watches her!"

"As we all look out for their little ones! They make it easy here; you're right about that." Stormi pushed a lock of her dark auburn hair out of her eyes, gestured toward her sister's lame hip and continued, "Once your hip's been taken care of—by someone who knows what he's doing and they see you really are going to be fine, they'll let you work more with the horses. But right now, I have to agree with Nick, Kourtnay. You aren't able to move fast enough if something were to happen."

"Nothing's going to happen if you let me play with a couple of the foals. Ruth Merriwether let me do that while we were there in West Virginia! And Lawry let me—"

Oh, Lawrey . . . Here was a trail Stormi didn't want trodden for any reason. Not today. Probably not tomorrow or next month, either. "I know what Lawrey let you do! He shouldn't have! Look, Kourt—"

"Come on, Storm! Who'd know? It'd be no different than you—"

"I'd know it, Kourtnay! And I'd have to put you on leave for six months." His arm resting along the edge of the door of his favorite mare's stall, Nicholas Tollefson stood observing his hired girls.

Two pairs of expressive smoke grey eyes turned in his direction. He'd snuck up on them with the silent grace of his Sioux ancestors and now regarded them both with his penetrating emerald gaze. "And I have told Nicky to speak to you, but he's chosen to disregard my wishes, too. Or else you've persuaded him-as you're trying to do, yet, again, with your sister-that you're entirely capable of amazing feats despite your hip."

Nicholas pushed away from the stall door and came to stand between the girls. Putting out a hand to Kourtnay's chin, he continued, "You are as stubborn as Thomasyna—or as any of my girls would be—they're all alike! Don't smile—I'm not sure it's a good thing! Most of the time, I'm sure it's not!"

"But, Dad, if I just lay around, it's worse! Please, don't say I can't help!"

His look, his tone, softened. "Kourtnay, I promise, once you've seen Dr. Doyle, and I hear it from him, I'll reconsider. For now, put that shovel right there against the wall and go sit as Karla asked you to do. I've got a bit of business to discuss with her, and after that, we'll help you to the house."

"I can help myself," stated Kourtnay resolutely. Letting her shovel drop against the wall, she limped out of the barn and up to the house.

Not able to watch her sister's departure with indifference, Stormi bit her lip, wincing in sympathy as Kourtnay made her way across the stable yard, and struggled up the seven stone steps set in the grassy slope that went up to the house. Despite Kourtnay's disclaim, it was obvious that she was experiencing a good deal of pain even as she'd made it. No, her bullheadedness in this regard was not a good thing. She should have refused Kourtnay's help from the very first day. Thing was, she knew she'd be no different herself. In fact, she'd be far more bullheaded than Kourtnay—or any of the Tollefson girls. Or even the boys, for that matter! She was most definitely a "Do as I say, not as I do" type!

"Well; you are right—it has been her own decision to come down here with you, mornings." conceded Nicholas. "You're off my hook for that as of this moment!" He brought his gaze round to meet Stormi's. "Amazing how you can get any of my offspring to do your bidding—or mine—but you don't insist on obedience from Kourtnay. Not that anyone really has to insist with her. She's generally very willing to do whatever anyone asks of her—except this one thing."

Stormi didn't answer him. She could have insisted. Used the look and the tone that would have made Kourtnay bend to her stronger will. For actually, she had a good deal of power over her sister. But, since her accident, she felt she had no right to insist that Kourtnay do anything she didn't want to do.

The time to have been adamant with Kourtnay was the night she'd made the firm decision to leave Dean. Yes, she ought to have used her power of persuasion to make her remain at SeaCrest that fateful night.

If she had just engineered her escape from Dean entirely on her own—if she hadn't let Kourtnay become involved . . . Damn! She ought to have realized the direction it would take . . . Dean was not a forgiving soul, so therefore she'd put several people at risk because of her desperate actions.

Said Nick quietly, "You can't blame yourself for what happened that night. Wasn't you at the wheel, after all. You weren't even in the car! In any case, you shouldn't let your feelings get in the way of what you know is in her best interest."

She flashed him a swift glance, not so much annoyed by a remark often voiced by her family in altogether a different tone, than for the fact he'd read her thoughts so precisely. Reassurance wasn't welcome, even from her employer whose opinion had come to mean a lot to her in the short time she and Kourtnay had been working at DreamWind. Yes, it mattered enough to her that she'd been persuaded, this past Wednesday afternoon, to confide in him and his three oldest daughters, a good deal of her life's history. More of it than she'd ever intended to tell anyone—inside of her family, never mind outside of it!

She hadn't elaborated, however. There were still things secret from everyone—even from Kourtnay and Stephan. Definitely from her parents and the rest of the Deverill-Ascott clan! Some things, she just wasn't ready to open the gates to. Sometimes, not even to herself.

Keeping them closed now, she retorted, "Oh, yes! You're a fine one to talk! She only has to call you Dad, and you're ready to back down yourself! You didn't, but you wanted to!" She made an expressive gesture that took in his powerful build and his six foot five stature. "You're bigger than I am, you know. You've got the same influence—you're her boss, too!"

His lips twitched faintly at that, and he said, "A mere four inches taller than you are, Karla. She doesn't quake at either one of us, and she's certainly comfort standing up to Nicky! Let's agree that this is an issue difficult to deal with, and leave this discussion alone for now. I have a message for you, plus—"

At that, Stormi heaved an annoyed sigh. Not giving him any opportunity to finish, she uttered, "Oh, please! Not my mother again! I've got too much to do today. You told her you couldn't possibly spare me, didn't you?"

He looked apologetic. "I'm afraid her complaining spirit compelled me to confess I could spare you for the morning. I'll expect you back around lunchtime if you somehow end up staying there that long. In that case—"

"Oh, I'll be back way before that! We won't be able to stand each other for longer than a sip of coffee. From a very small cup!"

"Well, that may be true, but, despite it, I'd like you to try getting along with her at least half an hour. No, don't argue; it won't change my mind! I believe I've mentioned this before—I won't be the cause of a rift between you and them! Arguing with me, however, might make me wonder whether I should go ahead with the decision Anetra and I have arrived at this morning."

She eyed him with misgiving. "What decision would that be?" For there certainly could be several of those he and his wife might have arrived at. Although, by his gaze and his tone, it might not have anything to do with her relationship with four of their seven sons-or more accurately-the one they all wished to have with her. More likely, it concerned her duties around the stable. If only it could include new privileges in handling that half dozen or so animals that Nick had warned were off limits to everyone but himself and Anetra. A couple of those being the two she'd sold to him before her flight out of state . . . and another, an unruly gelding Nick had taken on to train.

If he'd come to realize her early risings weren't solely on account of morning chores-

"The decision to make everyone but myself and Anetra accountable to you."

His pronouncement, delivered in his usual casual tone, took her entirely off guard, and she stared at him in open mouthed disbelief. She had the grace to feel guilt over those unauthorized visits to a certain black Arab/Morgan cross and his grulla Quarter Horse companion in the lower pasture. Fairwind, however, she'd not ridden since the mare had foaled less than a month ago. Took her only a few seconds to compose herself. "You can't be serious! Nick, I've only been here a month. Less! How could you-why would you make such a decision like that when Geoffrey's really the best one for that job! Nicky even! Although, I'm not sure why you don't keep it yourself!"

"Twelve of my sons and daughters would probably follow you off the Newport Bridge were you to jump-then there's one who'd probably rescue you if you were that foolish. You're aware as everyone else is that I'm taking on new projects that'll require a good bit of my time if I'm to accomplish anything with them. Anetra has commitments to Keath I want her to finish, and a couple of her own I'd like to see her succeed at. We need to know we have someone we can depend on to make sure the rest of the place gets taken care of." He held her gaze with a serious regard. "That's you."

While his faith in her, and Anetra's, lifted her spirits immeasurably, she couldn't make herself accept the promotion gracefully. "Which one are you referring to that would save me? Tristen? Adrien? Brett? Timothy? Look, Nick-they may not accept me as boss. They may feel slighted by this. After all, they are your sons, and this place is family run-and owned. Not only that, but the twins are older than I am, and Geoffrey and Nicky older still!"

"And they will all, as I mentioned, follow you blindly."

"No, they all wouldn't. Nicky would follow Kourtnay blindly, no doubt. But Geoffrey wouldn't follow anyone blindly." Nick raised an eyebrow, and she amended, "Well, all right, you say he'd follow Helene Stanley blindly, but, as she hasn't put in an appearance since we came, I haven't seen that, yet. In any case, he wouldn't follow me to paradise, never mind off the Newport Bridge!"

"No, he'd be the one rescuing you, were you to be that foolish."

"No, he wouldn't! Why do you say that?" Even as she uttered it, it came to her. Shaking her head, she told him bluntly, "No. No, you're all putting way too much faith in the hope that he'll break up with her next time she shows her face here. Nicholas, I can count on one hand the number of conversations he's granted-and I don't need all my fingers to do it! Far as I can see, I've a snowball's chance!"

Nicholas didn't agree. "You've a better chance than that, and you know it! You've seen those photos Timmy and Jacqi sold to Celebrity Tidbits just a couple of weeks ago. They weren't just of Thomi and Stephan!"

"Half the universe did," she returned unmoved.

"Regardless," he persisted, "the point is that the photos Geoffrey shows up in tell me he's questioning the wisdom of clinging to his faith in Helene Stanley. It's doubtful that she'll ever want to settle down with him, and he's finally admitting he's wasted almost half his life waiting for that."

Stormi couldn't agree with that opinion. Except for a slight hunch of a shoulder, though, and averting her gaze to stare at nothing in particular, she didn't challenge it.

"Moreover," he went on, "there were other shots that plainly show that you're wishing Helene would drop off the face of the planet! Should I warn you Anetra confiscated Timmy's camera and made some prints of her own? Framed a couple of those very shots!"

At that, she brought her gaze back to him, but he didn't pause to let her remark on it. "If you honestly do want that chance with him, quit letting his feigned indifference get to you. Definitely stop blessing those poker games the rest of 'em play over you each morning! I realize you've sanctioned them because they're more civil than a fist fight; but you've done yourself no favors here, nonetheless." He paused, then mused, "Although, I suppose Brett doesn't enter into them with as much passion and determination as the twins do. Or Timothy. Still-you've honored all of them upon the occasion of their victory-"

"Well, don't suggest that I've encouraged Brett or Timothy, Nicholas, because I haven't! I've shamelessly used their infatuation for me to get them to pull their weight around here. Especially Timothy. But that'll end when he learns for a certainty I've no real interest in him. He's too young-in every way!"

"I'm not suggesting anything, Karla. Except that you ought to quit honoring the winner-whoever it happens to be. I could order them to stop, but I know they wouldn't obey it! They're so under your spell, it'll take more than a stern command and a cold shower to wake them out of it!"

She wasn't sure how he meant that, so kept a guard on her tongue. It wasn't easy, for she'd been in this position before, and generally the blame had been placed entirely upon her. The general opinion being that she had no business being this beautiful and shame on her for bewitching the boys!

Apparently she hadn't been successful in keeping all of her annoyance out of her gaze, for he continued in his casual manner, "All I'm saying, Karla, is be careful how you play your own hand. It is sad to belong to someone else when the right one shows up. Or in this case, when he comes to his senses. Which isn't to say the one you're with is wrong, necessarily."

"That can't be from your experience!" she returned swiftly.

"No," he replied not troubling to elaborate. "But it could be yours-again-if you're not careful."

She flung out a hand. "Well, I have tried to talk to them about this. I've even tried to find where they go to play these silly games! But they make sure it's never at the same place or time. Figure I should have the right to play for my freedom to choose who I see and when . . . or not to see anyone at all, if that's what I want. But they won't let me. Said they'd never honor my bid for complete freedom, anyway, if I happened to win it."

"Well," mused Nicholas fair-mindedly, "I suppose I can't blame them for that. You are, after all, a young woman who can look almost every one of them straight in the eye. Which is an advantage you can take with them when you're issuing my orders to 'em for the day!"

He smiled at her look of amused reproach. He read in it also her continued reluctance to accept his promotion, and settled his hand upon her shoulder. "What was it I heard you say to Kourtnay not ten minutes ago? That you could get someone else to go do the boarder's barn . . .? Not that I would do that, but you! You've been assuming that thankless task for me almost from the first day! There's no reason for me not to have every faith in you, Karla. You were once owner and manager of your own place. Manager for your grandfather's before that, I understand since you were eleven! Your status in the show circuit hasn't been matched by many to this day. You might as well know that I hired you with this in mind from the beginning. Your quick reaction to a bad situation isn't the only reason I hired you and Kourtnay on the spot."

"No, it was because Mrs. Greene's thoughtless and stinging tongue caused What'shername and Wanda to quit on the spot! She can reduce a king to the status of a stinking bag of weasel turd in ten seconds or less! Not that I'm sorry she did it! For the half hour I was here before all hell broke loose, I wanted to send them packing myself. Why did Anetra feel they deserved a chance here?"

"I believe she was beginning to regret her generosity within a day of her having hired them. But we were hopeful, at the time, of their settling in after learning the ropes. Unfortunately, though, their equine passion exceeded their knowledge and ambition-which wouldn't overfill a thimble."

"Ah! So, they had one hundred per cent more than Timothy has! And two hundred per cent more passion!"

"And therein lies my great need of your expertise."

She laughed. Throwing up a hand in defeat, she gave in. "All right. All right, I accept, then." She started to walk toward the small tractor that pulled the spreader she and Kourtnay had been tossing the waste into as they mucked the twenty-four box stalls housed in the main barn.

"You should know that this position comes with other responsibilities."

That drew her up short. She turned back to him. "What other responsibilities?"

"I want you to manage the business end as well."

"Oh, why?" Stormi, betrayed into an unbecoming whine, sounded quite a bit like her three-year-old daughter rather than the self-possessed twenty-four-year-old she was. "Give that end to Kourtnay! It'd keep her off that hip and make her feel useful!"

It made him smile, but he shook his head. "I might have, but Stephan asked me not to. He's depending on her to become his assistant once he's officially opened his office down the road. She hasn't given him a firm answer, but he felt if I made my offer to her first, she'd take it. I think he holds me in more esteem than he ought. She's happy here, I know, but I really think it's because of her deep regard for my second born and not necessarily for the thrill of working at DreamWind!"

Stormi shook her head and told him candidly, "You're held in high esteem by all of us, whether or not we ought! She is thrilled to be working here-you must have heard her say so just now-so it's not just because of your second born! Stephan should run some help wanted ads! I'm thinking she'll choose to stay here." Then, visions of his disorderly desk dancing in her brain, she demanded, "Why isn't Lyndsay so honored? Or any of your other talented children? Brett's good with figures. His days aren't taken up entirely with his yard and garden contributions!"

"They will be shortly. He has the haying to tend to, as well. And he does much of the farrier work. Thomi will no doubt do a good deal of it while she's working to pay off her debt to me. But, there again-since she's decided to end her acting career in order to work with Stephan once they're married, I want you to learn it. Should something happen to me or to Anetra . . . I want to know the place will run well without us."

Naturally, she didn't want to hear that. "Nothing's going to happen to you! Or to Anetra! Besides, you're assuming that I'm going to become a fixture here. That may not happen, you know! Beg Thomi to stay!"

"You plan to quit today?"

"No."

"Tomorrow, then?"

"No! Or next week, either. But-"

"Then, I'll expect to see you in my office after lunch this afternoon. Don't fail me!" He reached out for the shovel she yet held. "You're finished here for this morning. Go change and get over to Deverill Hall. Your mother's expecting you to have breakfast there. If you'd rather decline that part of her command, then have something here. Don't miss another meal!"

Resisting the impulse to salute, she started to pass him. He half turned, having one more requirement to reinforce. "I'll allow your slip to pass unpunished this time-only because no one else was here with us. And because it was an accurate description of that day's events. Still, I need you to remember to find other words to describe your feelings and other things. Get into the habit of getting out of the habit!"

She glanced up blankly. What slip? Then, before she needed to ask it aloud, she knew. While hell described the events of the morning in the boarder's barn where Cedric, Mrs. Greene's mammoth jack and Mr. Wilson's Quarter Horse mare, Squeaky, had gotten into a heated disagreement that left the ornery Cedric lamed, what happened several hours later when her cousin, Stephan Deverill, had the audacity to spring a wholly unexpected and unwelcome proposal upon Nick's eldest daughter, Thomasyna, seemed worse than hell.

The valuable colt Thomi had been riding as a favor to her father had broken both knees and his neck in the fall that occurred during Thomi's wild flight from Stephan. Thomi herself had lain unconscious in the emergency room for thirty-six hours. For a while, it hadn't been certain she would survive.

Her stubborn will, though, wouldn't let her do anything else. And she made remarkable progress once she woke up. Or at least, that's what she wanted everyone to think. Like Kourtnay, she had bad days, but made light of them. One day, both of them would probably be sorry they hadn't listened to wiser counsel.

Meanwhile, Thomi was slowly succumbing to Stephan's charms. A circumstance, he'd been hopeful of-no, confident of-from the beginning.

Stormi had several and varied opinions of this circumstance. But for now, she buried them. Her own situation was tied closely with it. And just now, she hadn't a wish to consider any of it. No doubt she'd be forced to all too soon at Deverill Hall.

She drew a breath then, and responded to his recommendation, "I'm sorry-I am trying to."

He nodded. "Yes, and I appreciate that. But, occasionally, you get caught up in your passion and let go with some colorful moments I can't let slide anymore. Which, I believe, I have told you on other occasions! Your youngest devotees are too ready to follow you down paths I don't want them traveling! Not sure I'd want to hear 'em referring to anyone as a stinking bag of weasel turd, either!"

Recalling four-year-old Daine-Anthony's indignant outburst at Timothy, just the day before, in which the lad had recommended Timmy to rot in hell with all the other dammed rotten mud turtles that had pissed him off that day, Stormi apologized for her lapses, promised again that she'd put a guard on her tongue, and left the barn before his all seeing gaze could detect that she meant it all only for when she was physically at DreamWind.

In the presence of her parents or her uncle Greggory, she couldn't/wouldn't make any promises at all.

Up at the house, Lyndsay, Brett and Anetra worked to get breakfast on the table for their large family. Already platters of bacon, sausage, ham and pancakes were on the dining room table awaiting the return of the absentees. While everyone cheered when Stormi walked in, their cheers quickly became grumbles when Nick didn't appear behind her.

"He's finishing up the last stall. Shouldn't be all that long!" Storm said as she went to wash up in the kitchen sink. "You need any help?"

"I've been waiting forever! I'm gonna pass out in two minutes-no! Two seconds!" stated seven-year-old Jacqlynne Jeanne-Marie melodramatically. "I'm starving and nobody cares!"

"I'm ready to stuff socks in that kid's face," uttered twenty-two-year-old Lyndsay. She thrust a loaded platter into Stormi's hands almost before she had time to dry them. "If you'll set these eggs on the table, that'll be a help."

"Lyndsay, give that to someone else! Storm, go change and get out of here," ordered Anetra as she filled a pitcher with fresh milk from Brett's Jerseys. "Your mother's called twice already to make sure you were, in fact, coming!"

Stormi rolled her expressive eyes in resignation, accepted the plate from Lyndsay, holding it way above Anetra's reach as the older, but shorter, woman made an attempt to take it from her, and she walked into the dining room. Maybe she would have a bite here first. She'd need all her strength about her in order to deal with her parents, and their endless insistence that she, again, and this instant, reconcile with Dean. The poor, long suffering, innocent soul!

Wasn't gonna happen! She'd tried that route before. Nothing had changed then. Nothing would change, now, if she were to be that stupid another time. Why didn't they give it up? Of course, they might if he would.

Would that ever happen? Probably only over one or the other's dead body.

Probably hers.

It was a reality she chose not to deal with. Yet.

She was greeted with enthusiasm by nearly everyone at the table. Nicky, his arm possessively about Kourtnay raised his hand in a wave of sorts. She smiled at him, her gaze going from him to Kourtnay appraisingly.

"What?" Kourtnay prompted.

She shook her head, disclaiming, "Nothing." then, "What, Kailey?" For the little girl called out to her urgently, "Momma! Momma!"

Once she was sure she had her mother's attention, Kailey put her finger up at her and told her, "I d'wanna go with you to G'amma's house. I d'wanna see her, 'cause her don't wike my Nicky and my Thom'syna! And her don't wike you, eider! I d'want you to go. Her's not nice to you!"

"You haven't been nice to her, eider!" Kourtnay chided her small niece, freely mimicking her word for either. "Been stinking nasty for weeks now. In fact, since you've found your blabby little tongue last week, you've been worse-if that's possible!" She tossed a challenging glance at the big man across from her. "Must be your fault, Geoffrey! She's talking again because of you! Probably snubbing Storm because you do!"

"Yeah, he's an idiot!" called Lyndsay from the kitchen. "But, I've told him that twice already this morning!"

"We all have," stated Nicky, who at thirty-two, was a mere ten months younger than his eldest brother. "Tell him so every day, but, he's determined to continue in jerk mode!"

Geoffrey, whose appearance and build closely resembled his father's and Nicky's, swallowed some more of his grapefruit juice, sublimely ignoring their jibes. Ignored also Stormi who set the platter down on the table rather nearer Tristen than Geoffrey.

No sense in leaving herself open to his cool slights this early in the morning. Whatever Nicholas thought, she couldn't detect in his eldest son the slightest glimmer of even friendship. He seemed impervious to her undeniable beauty, her hypnotic voice which entranced everyone else, and her superior height which didn't diminish her shapely curves.

Perhaps he simply preferred tiny blondes. Helene was blonde and tiny. Lyndsay had shown her pictures of Helene once, when the subject had come up. Not quite as tiny as the ebony haired triplets, but still. Maybe he had a problem with auburn haired women. Except, of course, his mother-and small children, like Jacqi and Kailey.

Since he kept himself aloof, she hadn't a clue what went on inside the gray matter encased in that handsome head. But she wanted to . . . despite the danger that would likely put both of them in, should Dean come to hear of it.

Kailey stood in her chair and leaned against Geoffrey. Laying her little arm across his broad shoulders, she declared with an adorable pout, "I wuv my Daddy Geoff, but her don't! And I want her to! And I want my Daddy Geoff to wuv her, too!"

"Yeah, well, he don't!" retorted Adrien, the younger and darker of the twenty-six-year old twins. "Which is fine with us! How come you don't hate him for that?"

Kailey played with a lock of Geoffrey's thick black hair. "I wuv him, that's all! He nice to me, and he don't hurt us!"

"Well . . . he can't hurt what he won't get close to," observed Tristen, who was identical in every way to his twin except for his fairer coloring. "Or no-he can't be hurt by what he won't get close to. Although, it seems to me that it's inevitable someone's going to be hurt when he's playing Dad to her daughter and pretending she doesn't exist!"

"Yes, well, again, not that we mind!" Adrien raised a finger as he spoke. "We don't need him thinking he's got a prayer in taking her away from us!"

"I haven't the smallest wish to destroy your happiness, today, Adrien," Geoffrey assured him, over the rim of his juice glass. "But, pray away if you feel you must!"

"Too late," said Brett smugly, "Today, his prayers weren't answered, either! Were they?"

Adrien cast him a dark accusing glance. "You cheated, I know you did! I can't prove it, yet, but you cheated!"

Brett answered that with a wickedly taunting laugh. Both Adrien and Tristen demanded a rematch for, apparently, the umpteenth time, but Brett wouldn't be swayed. "It wouldn't matter. I'd win again, anyway!"

"He's been letting you boys win!" called Anetra from the kitchen. "Did you really believe your skill had improved all that much?"

"Yes!" responded Tristen and Adrien at once. "Don't even suggest it's otherwise!"

Brett gave his wicked chuckle again. He looked up at Storm. "You'd lose, too. I see you're wanting to demand the chance to gain freedom from us!"

"I think it's only fair!"

"Fair, but useless. You'd lose. And you'd be mine forever-and they'd be sobbing their losses for longer than that!"

"Oohooo! We accept that challenge, boy!"

Stormi put up a hand in protest. "Ah, no, you don't! Look! Guys-"

The back door banged shut. Nick, having heard the discussion as he crossed the porch, for the opened dining room windows overlooked the back yard, poked his head in to survey the occupants. "Karla, there's no need to wait! Eat and leave!"

"Everyone else is waiting!"

He gave her a look that sent her for a vacant chair. She started for the one beside Kourtnay, but Daine, scooting one seat over, called urgently for her to come sit between him and his twin, Stacia. Since that would put her only one small boy away from the man that most disturbed her peace of mind-at DreamWind, at any rate-she hesitated in granting him his wish.

The plea in Daine's hopeful blue-green eyes, though, won her over. She sat, careful not to allow her gaze to dwell deliberately in Geoffrey's direction. She couldn't quite believe that his cool indifference was feigned as Nick seemed to think. Feigned or not, though, it hurt more than she wanted to admit. Until that spread of Thomasyna had come out in this past Monday's Celebrity Tidbits, she'd hoped she'd convinced everyone that, since she had no interest in him, Geoffrey's lack of same in her meant nothing. Maybe if she hadn't been standing so nearby the young actress, she'd've been able to continue denying her feelings. But no . . . both she and Thomi were forever caught on film with a tell-tale wistfulness in their respective gazes.

So had Geoffrey,; Stephan, too. But, for him and Thomi, she had no doubt of it finally coming true for them. They had some things to work out, true, especially Thomi. Still, it wasn't difficult to see that, despite that, Thomi had fallen for Stephan's sweet smile and his caring disposition.

Between her and Thomi's big brother, nothing had changed since the tabloid's hitting the stands. In fact, if anything, Geoffrey kept a greater distance from her than before. Continued to pretend she didn't exist when he was able . . . and he was pretty much able twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. It effectively kept her relationship with him on a business level, only speaking together about stable matters when necessary.

Didn't keep her from dreaming about a real one, though.

She suppressed a sigh as she parked herself between Daine and Stacia. Such a pastime was a futile pursuit. For dreaming of falling in love with any of the men of DreamWind . . . or anyone else, for that matter . . . just couldn't be. Stupid of her to let it happen. Stupid of her to let her daughter think it should.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Nicky watching her serve Daine, Stacia and Kailey their plates, saw his lips part to remark, and she braced herself. Nicky too often spoke before he consulted his brain.

"Daddy Geoff wants some pancakes, too, Mom." Kailey informed her mother, effectively cutting off whatever thing Nicky had been ready to utter. The little girl patted Geoffrey's arm reassuringly. "Don't worry. Her's gonna get you some! Okay? Don't worry!"

Involuntary chuckles of amusement escaped the mouths of almost everyone, both at the table and in the kitchen. Ignoring them all, Stormi motioned for Daine to get his eldest brother's plate, began filling it for him. While she often managed to be absent for several meals a week, she'd been present at breakfast often enough to know precisely what Geoffrey liked most. But her regard for him wasn't the only thing that had prompted her to obey her daughter's request. Nope, this small task stalled her leaving for Deverill Hall a few minutes more. Enduring Geoffrey's indifference at any time was far preferable to enduring her mother's.

Or . . . maybe not. She could put her encounters with her mother behind her the instant she turned away from her. Just bury all the cruel and thoughtless things uttered deeply away and go on about her business. Geoffrey's slights had caused her sleepless nights . . .

Not even Lawron Merriwether had produced in her this sort of restless yearning. And she'd been, at the time, deeply-and inappropriately, most thought-in love with the mechanic who'd kept the vehicles at SeaCrest Park and Ascott Meadows in top form. A love that her marriage to Dean Van Kirk, a man considered to be more her social equal, hadn't severed.

Thoughts of Lawron still caused her pain. Which was understandable. His death, a few weeks ago, had occurred only days before they were to be married. The crash had been ruled an accident, but Storm had her doubts of that. Since she had no proof, however, she'd kept her opinions to herself. At least, for now.

Stormi resolutely shoved that door closed, unwilling to let the memories creep out. No time to mourn him now, anyway. Of course, she made sure she had no 3time to grieve his loss. And if she wasn't prudent, Lawron's fate could well become that of any one of the Tollefson brothers.

Yes, she ought to make them end those games. Maybe if she did refuse to honor the winner, they'd back off . . . a little, at least.

She placed Geoffrey's plate before him, meeting his eyes only fleetingly, letting Daine's need to have his pancakes cut up for him exact her whole attention.

"Such a touching picture of domestic serenity!" Nicky uttered the remark Kailey had unintentionally cut off moments earlier. It seemed, to him, even more appropriate now than when he'd first thought it.

Two pairs of eyes reproved him, one pair, an enigmatic green, the other, a deep smoke gray-a touch of reluctant amusement with her reproof. He laughed. "If Thomi could see this now . . ."

Anetra walked in with the last batch of pancakes and ham. "Nicky."

"Sorry, Mom. I couldn't resist. But I can hear her now, telling them all the same things everyone's been trying to tell her about Stephan. Come on, why keep pretending? We all want to break bricks over Geoffrey's head! He's being an idiot and even he knows it. Besides, look at them-close together with three adorable little children . . .!"

Suddenly, Stormi's desire to be as late as possible to Deverill Hall slid away. An unnerving sensation of claustrophobia gripped her. As it did almost every time she came to the table. Only, now, thanks to Nicky, it seemed far worse. Handing Daine back his fork, she rolled a sausage inside a buttered pancake and declared, "I'm late! See you all later!" and strode away.

"Storm! Storm-you haven't changed!" Anetra called after her. "Haven't showered, either . . . your mother's going to love that!" She swung around to eye her second born with deep reproof. "You know, Nicky, sometimes you're not very bright!"

"What? Mom, I only pointed out what's right in front of everyone's nose!"

Not wanting to hear again what was right in front of everyone's nose, Stormi made sure she was out the door and that that item banged noisily shut the second she was. That Nicky was only trying to help her win her fondest dream, she didn't doubt. If he could be a little more subtle, perhaps she could welcome it!

The blue Lexus Stephan had permitted his cousins to use during their stay in Rhode Island occupied a space in the family's parking lot. And, well, look! Right next to Geoffrey's black Silverado. Here was a new development. Maybe. For, it hadn't, at the time, been the only space available to him to park in. At any other time, he'd made sure the truck was as far from the Lexus as it could possibly be. Even parked it elsewhere than the family's lot if he felt a need for it.

Still, parking next to her car and asking her to marry him were poles apart. Okay, maybe a move in the right direction, but nothing for Heart to get all gaga about. All right, all right, and that he'd actually allowed her to make up a plate for him was yet another miracle. He'd barely allowed her to pass butter to him before today. Generally reached across the table for one of the other butter dishes, however inconvenient it might be, both to him and the person he stole it from.

Such a-

"Wait! Wait, Storm! I wanna go with you! Can I? Mom thaid!" Daine-Anthony ran down the slope of the backyard toward her. He stopped at the edge of the lawn, and impatiently hopping in place, he waited for her answer.

Stormi paused in the act of sliding behind the wheel. Those large, hopeful, blue-green puppy eyes were hard to ignore. She ought to say no, since it would irritate her mother if she brought any small child other than Kailey-whom she ignored wholly once she'd given and gotten the obligatory hug and peck on the cheek. Moreover, Daine worshiped her as deeply as any of his older brothers did; it would be heinous if her mother snubbed him as cruelly as she had Nicky upon his first meeting with the Deverill clan not all that long ago.

But then . . . why should her mother always expect her day to be steeped in perfection? Why did she always strive to annihilate it in those of her daughters?

"All right, come on! You're sure she knows you're asking to come?"

Daine dashed across the driveway to the rear door on the driver's side. "Yup! Her thaid no buggin' you, though. If you d'wanna bring me, then I gotta stay home!" He tugged open the door and scrambled into the back seat. Dutifully, he settled into Kailey's booster seat and clicked the seat belt about him, his face all smiles and happy expectation.

"Not me you're going to be bugging," replied Stormi, getting out to make sure he really was secure. "Gonna be my mother!"

"How come?" asked Daine with interest.

"She doesn't like little kids." Satisfied he was buckled correctly, she shut the back door and slid back behind the wheel.

"How come?"

Starting the car, she headed it left out of the parking lot and down the long white stone driveway. "I don't know. I've never asked her. She probably doesn't know herself. Or wouldn't tell me, if I did ask."

"How come?"

"Because that's the way she is. Mean and miserable. I wish your mother were my mother!"

"Well, my mudder can't be your mudder. 'Cause then you couldn't wike Geoffrey so much. 'Cause guyth ain't apossa marry their sisterth-"

"Daine-

"

"What? Nicky thayth you wike Geoffrey thith much!" And he spread his little arms as wide as they would spread there in the back seat. She watched him in the mirror, couldn't suppress the smile of amusement that touched her lips. The tot continued eagerly, "But that ain't wike-that'th wuv! Huh, Storm? You really wuv Geoffrey, huh? But he'th bein' a damned snotfathe, huh?"

Thankful that his father wasn't with them to have heard him express that sentiment, Stormi answered, "Yes, he is. But Daine, I don't want you saying it that way, okay? You can probably call him a snotface-I think. I'm not really sure about that. But I am sure your father would make me very sorry that you called your brother a 'damned snotface'!"

"How come?"

"Because he doesn't like to hear anyone talk like that. Really, we should not be calling anyone names at all. It's not-"

"You called Mr. Witley a witleth, stupid, asth-"

"Daine!" ruthlessly cutting him off before he could finish repeating her entire insult.

"I didn't say that! You did!"

"You don't have to repeat it. I know what I said. And I'm sorry you heard me say it!"

"How come you don't wike him?"

"Because he is a witless, stupid-donkey's behind!"

"That ain't what you thaid. You thaid-"

"Daine," she said with the utmost patience, "how about if we forget what I said and talk about something else. Don't ask "how come?" Unless of course, you want to go home. Now."

"Okay. I won't talk 'bout that. And I won't tell Dad you thaid his fwreakin' wulesth 'bout not widin' Wogue and Fairwind're all a bunch of sheep sh-"

She dragged in a deep breath, rolling her eyes heavenward. Didn't it figure that he'd conquer his lisp for something like this? If she'd been in any doubt that Nick exaggerated his claim of her corrupting the speech of the little ones, they'd been wiped out in these last five minutes! Looked like she owed him a great many humble apologies.

"-shinure." finished Daine, making use of her own euphemism for the word. He grinned at her in the mirror. "You thought I wasth gonna say sheep shit, huh, Storm?"

A great many very humble apologies!