Kathleen Creighton
The Top Gun's Return
A book in the Starrs of the West series
The first book in the Taken series, 2003
To Gail Chasan, my editor and champion for I'm-not-even-going-to-tell-you-how-many years.
How did I get so lucky?
Dear Reader,
The year may be coming to a close, but the excitement never flags here at Silhouette Intimate Moments. We've got four-yes, four-fabulous miniseries for you this month, starting with Carla Cassidy's CHEROKEE CORNERS and Trace Evidence, featuring a hero who's a crime scene investigator and now has to investigate the secrets of his own heart. Kathleen Creighton continues STARRS OF THE WEST with The Top Gun's Return. Tristan Bauer had been declared dead, but now he was back-and very much alive, as he walked back into true love Jessie Bauer's life. Maggie Price begins LINE OF DUTY with Sure Bet and a sham marriage between two undercover officers that suddenly starts feeling extremely real. And don't miss Nowhere To Hide, the first in RaeAnne Thayne's trilogy THE SEARCHERS. An on-the-run single mom finds love with the FBI agent next door, but there are still secrets to uncover at book's end.
We've also got two terrific stand-alone titles, starting with Laurey Bright's Dangerous Waters. Treasure hunting and a shared legacy provide the catalyst for the attraction of two opposites in an irresistible South Pacific setting. Finally, Jill Limber reveals Secrets of an Old Flame in a sexy, suspenseful reunion romance.
Enjoy-and look for more excitement next year, right here in Silhouette Intimate Moments.
Yours.
Leslie J. Wainger
Executive Editor
Prologue
Sammi June stared at the shadows on her ceiling cast by the soccer-ball-shaped night-light beside her bed. Under the covers her knee stung and throbbed where she'd picked the scab off it too soon, and she thought about that while tears tickled their way down the sides of her face and ran into her ears. The tears came from the achy, lonely place inside her, but if she concentrated hard enough she could make herself believe that her skinned knee was to blame for that, too.
Stupid knee. She'd had skinned knees before. It was no big deal. Except, why did it have to happen now?
Tomorrow was supposed to be her big day. She was so excited she couldn't fall sleep. It was the most important part, and the teacher had picked her, the new kid. The new kid-wasn't she always? New place, new school, new friends. She'd wanted so much for them to like her, to be amazed at how smart she was, and how pretty. She even had a dress to wear-a pink one, brand-new, Momma had bought it for her last week at J.C. Penny-and new shoes to go with it, and socks with lace around the tops. And now it was all going to be ruined, because of a stupid skinned knee. It was going to show, and look ugly and tacky, and everyone would think she was just a tomboy hick from Georgia.
I wish my daddy was here. If Daddy was here, I wouldn't care if I have a skinned knee. Daddy would find a way to make it be all right.
Sammi June sniffed and wiped her cheeks with her hands, then listened to the darkness as hard as she could. She thought sometimes if she listened hard enough she could make herself hear the sounds she wanted so badly to hear: the front door opening, footsteps on the stairs, Momma's voice, trying to whisper but bubbling brightly with happiness. Daddy's voice whispering back, low and gruff and growly.
After a moment she pushed back the covers and got out of bed and walked over to the window. In the daytime in this new place, there wasn't much to see from the bedroom window except for other people's houses. But at night, if she knelt down and pressed her face close to the glass and looked up…way up…just above the rooftop of the house next door, she could see it. One star, all by itself, so big and bright it didn't seem real. But it was real; Momma said so. She said it was the Evening Star, the one everyone sings to you about when you're real little: "Twinkle twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are…" Momma said if you make a wish on the Evening Star it will come true, and there was a poem for that, too.
Kneeling on the hard floor-on one knee, because the skinned one was sore-Sammi June closed her eyes and whispered the poem:
"Starlight, star bright,
First star I've seen tonight,
I wish I may I wish I might
Have the wish I wish tonight."
Then, staring at the Evening Star until her eyes burned and made new tears, she silently added the wish she'd wished so many times before: I wish my daddy would come home.
Chapter 1
May, 1995-Near Athens, Georgia
The day Jessie Bauer's life changed forever began like any other. She worked the day shift as a nurse's aid at the hospital in Athens and came home looking forward to the same three things she always did after a long day on her feet: a glass of Momma's sweet tea, a letter from Tristan and a quiet hour to sit with her feet up while she read it.
"Hey, Momma," Jessie said as she stepped through the open back porch door and put her pocketbook on the kitchen table, "whatcha makin'?" So close to the first day of summer, the year's longest day, the sun was still high in the sky. The house was warm and smelled of burned sugar and overripe fruit.
Her mother lifted damp hair off of her forehead with the back of a hand that held a long-handled wooden spoon. "Oh, I picked up some of those last-of-the-season strawberries Frank had on sale down at the produce stand. They were goin' fast, so I thought I'd better get 'em put up while they still had some good in 'em." Red-faced and sweaty, she flashed Jessie a smile.
"Let me get changed," Jessie said. "I'll help you."
"Oh, heavens, I'm about done here-just these last few jars. Then I'm gonna put the kettles to soak and go in and catch Dan Rather. You go on and sit-there's tea in the 'fridge."
Jessie picked up her pocketbook and slung the strap over her shoulder. "Thanks, I will in a minute. Where's Sammi June? Doing her homework?"
"Finished-at least, that's what she told me. She and J.J. are off ramblin' down by the creek somewhere."
Jessie nodded. "I get a letter today?" She asked it in that way people do when they think they're going to be disappointed.
Not this time, though. Her mother smiled and pointed with the spoon. "You did. It's on the desk in the-"
And Jessie was already gone, her heart going thump-thump in time to the whapping of the swinging door behind her. In the hall, she let the pocketbook fall to the desktop as she picked up the familiar envelope and pressed it against the place where her heart was beating so fast, fighting the little shivers of joy inside her only because she knew if she wasn't careful they'd turn into tears. When she had herself calmed down some she went back into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of tea. She carried the glass and the letter out to the front porch and sank into one of the white-painted rocking chairs that sat there in all kinds of weather.
For a while she rocked and held the letter close in her hands while she thought about how beautiful it was just now, with the day lilies blooming along the lane, and the front lawn dotted with yellow dandelions, and the air warm and smelling sweet from Momma's roses rambling over the porch roof. Finally, having savored the moment about as long as she could stand to, she tore open the envelope and unfolded the single sheet of lined notepaper.
It took only a minute or two-never long enough-to read the words written there. Everyday words about the everyday things that made up Tristan's life on board an aircraft carrier somewhere in the Persian Gulf: what they'd had to eat, the last movie they'd seen, something some buddy or other had done that made him laugh. Then a line or two about how much he missed Jess and Sammi June, but how glad he was to be where he was, doing something so important. The same words that nearly always ended his letters home.