Star Bright by Catherine Anderson Page B

it must have been like for her. His silence touched Rainie in a way that artfully phrased condolences never had.
    “It was lonely,” she heard herself say. “It still is. After my mom died, my father became my whole world. Though he loved me and tried to go on because of me, I don’t think he ever got over losing her. They were—” She broke off. Her parents’ relationship was difficult to describe. “I don’t know. What they had was special.”
    “In other words, they were truly in love,” he supplied softly.
    Rainie gave him a questioning look. It struck her as an odd thing for a rough and rugged man like Parker Harrigan to say.
    “It was the same for my folks,” he explained with a smile. “Nowadays, a lot of people think all that crap is only for storybooks, but even though I was young, I can still remember how it felt in a room when my mom and dad were together. It took him years to get over her death.”
    “Daddy never got over losing my mother. I can’t remember now when he started drinking, only that one day I realized he was drinking way too much. The alcohol eventually destroyed his health. The last thing he said to me as he lay dying was that he was sorry.” It occurred to Rainie that she was sharing more than tidbits of information with Parker Harrigan, but somehow she couldn’t stop the words from coming. “He was in such pain that I was relieved when it was over, but at the same time, I wished he wouldn’t leave me.”
    He nodded. “When we lose a loved one, our feelin’s can get as tangled as line wire. Who’d you live with after he died?”
    “I was in my senior year of high school, and he had enough left in the bank to arrange for the housekeeper to stay with me until I graduated and the house could be sold. The proceeds from the sale went into a trust fund to cover my college education, and I began my freshman year the following September.” Rainie fiddled nervously with a button on her blouse. “I actually do have an undergraduate degree in accounting. That much wasn’t a lie.”
    “As long as you can do the work, I don’t give a rat’s ass about the degree. Why couldn’t you live with someone in the family after he died? Surely you had an aunt or uncle or grandparents.”
    “My mom was an orphan and grew up in foster homes. My father cut ties with all of his relatives before I was born. I don’t know for sure, but I think his family disapproved of my mother. Daddy would never talk about them. He just looked angry when I asked questions. So after he died, I had nobody.”
    Rainie’s throat went tight with the admission. She pretended interest in her meal, but her appetite had vanished. Looking back on those years immediately following her father’s death, she wondered if she ever would have fallen for Peter if she hadn’t felt so horribly alone.
    “It’s hard for me to imagine havin’ no one,” Parker observed. “I don’t know my mom’s side of the family very well, but my dad’s side makes up for the lack. I’ve got uncles and cousins out the yang.”
    “I tried to find my grandparents after Daddy passed away, but none of my letters of inquiry were ever answered. I can only assume they’re dead—or maybe they just don’t care to meet me.”
    “They might be dead, I reckon.” He pushed erect and collected his eating utensils. As he strode back to the coffee room, he said over his shoulder, “Seems more likely to me that they never got your letters, though. You’re only twenty-five. They’re probably not that old.”
    Rainie listened as he rinsed his plate and fork. When he returned, he paused by the desk to gaze down at her for a moment. “You should try to find them again.”
    The time for that was past. Rainie couldn’t even telephone her best friends, let alone risk trying to contact long-lost relatives. Lorraina Hall Danning was dead.
    And she had to remain dead.
     
    As Rainie settled into a work routine at the ranch, lunch hours with Parker became