Promise Me the Stars: A Hearts of Harkness Romance (The Standish Clan Book 3)

by Norah Wilson

  April sighed. She should be in the kitchen right now, preparing to dazzle Ms. McCoy, who would arrive in less than an hour for breakfast. Dr. and Mrs. Boisvert wanted everything to be perfect. This was their big chance.

  And for April herself, it was a chance to have her unique creations sampled by the best in the business. Just the thought made her heart beat faster. In her wildest dreams, she imagined herself running her own business.

  Except for a single woman with a child to support, some dreams were just too wild.

  Callum Martin. Handsome, charming, underhanded. He’d swept her off her feet. Stolen her heart. She hadn’t listened to the bells and whistles going off in her mind.

  He had been her first. First boyfriend, first love. First everything, after getting out of her parents’ household in Dartmouth to attend St. Francis Xavier University in Antigonish on scholarship. Her father had made it clear they wouldn’t put a cent to her education, but at seventeen, she’d been undaunted. She’d already perfected a half dozen jam and jelly recipes and was determined to get her business degree, start her own business.

  Then, on a blustery winter morning, she peed on a stick.

  Nearly eight months later, Sidney Kathleen Morgan had come screaming into the world.

  That had been ten years ago.

  Oh, that precious baby was her prize. Her life. Her shining star. But that beautiful baby was also her responsibility and hers alone. Two weeks after she told Callum she was expecting, he was gone. No goodbye, no explanation, and definitely no forwarding address.

  She’d had to drop out of university once the baby was born. She hadn’t been home for months, but finally, her parents had gotten word. Her roaring father had ordered her home with the little bastard. He and April’s mother would raise it. Adopt it.

  That’s right—it.

  That was the day she cut her parents out of her life.

  There was a reason Kathleen, her older sister, had run away at sixteen, never to be heard from again. And why Harley, her entitled, older brother—Sarah and Dick Morgan’s only male offspring—had never left the nest. A chip off the old block, he was just as misogynistic and nasty as their father. But somehow, he’d found a wife. Harley and his family now lived in the Morgan household in Dartmouth, while Dick and Sarah had moved to a condo.

  April had raised Sidney Kathleen—her little Ladybug—on her own.

  But she was still determined to work in the food industry.

  She’d started out as a dishwasher in one of Halifax’s smaller downtown restaurants, a family-owned business. She’d worked her way up to prep cook, then line cook, for those part time hours she put in. She’d soaked up everything the chef was prepared to teach her, not to advance with her job, but because it had fascinated her. She read more online. Studied food safety. Analyzed recipes and perfected some of her own. Then the owners had retired, closing the restaurant. In one fell swoop, she’d lost her job and the tiny apartment she rented above the restaurant. That was six years and three positions ago.

  This job with the Boisverts wasn’t much, but she’d needed someplace that could also supply housing. And it was safe. Secure. But in taking the job, she’d uprooted Sidney from her school, her friends. The job also kept her so busy, she didn’t have as much time for Sid as she’d like.

  Time. Crap! She needed to be downstairs.

  But first, she’d look in on Sidney.

  She knocked on the door. “Ladybug? You awake?”

  Silence. Sid silence—and that, as she knew, could last for a spell.

  They shared a small, upstairs apartment in the Boisvert home with two closet-sized bedrooms, and cupboard-sized closets. Because there was just the two of them, they always left their bedroom doors open. Except for last night.

  Yes, Sid was getting older, but April knew it wasn’t just a general tween desire for privacy. Her little girl’s heart was breaking though she wouldn’t admit it in hundred years.

  April’s throat started to ache. Her own heart had taken a pretty good thumping too.

  She usually let the alarm clock do the job of waking her brilliant and independent daughter. Though since summer, Sidney hadn’t needed the alarm. She’d gotten in the habit of getting up at the crack of dawn to work around the estate with Scott Standish. Or the butt crack of dawn, as Sidney liked to say. Yes, that had been just one of Scott’s colorful contributions to her daughter’s vocabulary.

  As April stood there debating whether or not to enter her daughter’s room, the clock radio alarm went off. When the radio played on without any sounds of stirring, April knocked gently on the door.

  “Sidney, time to get up. School day.” When there was no response, April knocked a little louder on the door. “Sidney?” Still no action. Dammit, April couldn’t be late this morning.

  “I’m coming in.” With that warning, she walked into the room and groaned.

  Her daughter had never scored high marks for tidiness, but this was ridiculous. Her laundry basket had been turned upside down. Dresser drawers stood open, spilling socks and clothing.

  Still no movement from the little girl tucked so tightly under those blankets. Precious seconds ticked by. Praying for patience, April sat down on the bed. “Come on, sleepyhead. School. I know you’re upset. I know you miss—”

  The words she was going to say died on her lips as she put her hand on her daughter’s shoulder beneath the bedding. Except it wasn’t her daughter. She pulled the blankets back to find a pillowcase stuffed with a Barney doll.

  She tore the covers back. More stuffed animals, two small cushions, and a balled-up Montreal Canadiens jersey.

  Oh, God, no!

  Where was her child?

  She tried to stem the flood of panic with logic. This was not an abduction. Clearly her daughter had snuck out under her own steam. But where was she?

  Oh crap, she had to find Sidney before she got herself into even more trouble. Was this about school? This wouldn’t be the first time she’d played hooky.

  “Oh, Sidney, honey, where are you?” Tears choked her voice.

  April had to go downstairs and get to work, like now. But how could she? She had to find Sidney. Every possible scenario as to where her girl could be ran through her head.

  She tightened her fists in frustration, her trimmed nails digging little half-moons into the palms of her hands.

  As much as she hoped Sidney was somewhere within the relative safety of the estate, she also dreaded that thought. The Boisverts were a nice enough couple, but they had absolutely no interest in children. There was also a definite division between the family and staff. The little suite April and her daughter occupied had its own private entrance at the back of the house. Sidney knew she wasn’t to wander alone. As defiant as she’d gotten in the last couple weeks, surely she wouldn’t defy that rule…again.

  She hoped.

  Ten days ago, Sidney had snuck into Dr. Boisvert’s parlor. Though she hadn’t taken anything, she’d moved some things around. She hadn’t intended to rearrange the objects on his desk, but in the process of picking things up, inspecting them and putting them back down, they didn’t necessarily get back in their precise place. If that hadn’t been enough to give her away, she’d started his Newton’s cradle pendulum balls in motion.

  April had made Sidney apologize, and had apologized for her. Sid was just a little girl curious about the oddities on the desk. That wasn’t how Dr. Boisvert saw it, however. He was adamant it not happen again. Or else…

  Oh, Ladybug! We can’t move again so soon.

  April had been more concerned about her daughter than angry with her. Normally, she didn’t have to worry too much about that sort of thing. Sid was mature for her age. Smarter than most ten-year-olds.

  But she was still a child. And, heaven help her, she was missing!

  The phone. She could call her daughter. And if Sid was being stubborn and refused to answer, she could still get a general location. She’d been thinking about loss or theft when s
he’d installed the app, but maybe it could help her find her daughter.

  She ran to the small kitchen and grabbed her phone off the top of the fridge. Her daughter’s name popped up immediately. As the phone rang, April’s eyes fell on the school photo of Sidney pinned to the fridge with magnets. The strangest, most lonesome feeling invaded her gut. That sweet face, those wide brown eyes. Nut brown hair just a shade lighter than April’s own dark brown, bangs brushed to the side.

  The muffled sound of Sidney’s ringtone—a few distinctive notes from her favorite Taylor Swift tune—sounded from within the suite. Oh no! She dashed back into her daughter’s room and tore the bedding completely off the bed. Sidney’s phone clunked to the floor, face up.

  She bent to pick it up. Mom appeared on the caller ID.

  The panic she was trying to hold down flared. She’d left her phone. Sidney had gone off God only knew where, leaving April with no way of contacting her. No way to know if she was safe.

  Unless she hadn’t gone anywhere. Maybe she’d just…slipped outside. There was no point getting worked up until she knew she needed to.

  Except that didn’t make sense. She wouldn’t create that elaborate dummy in her bed just to slip out this morning. She’d have done it last night, so her disappearance would go unnoticed if April checked in on her.

  Her daughter’s phone stopped ringing and the Mom call went into voice mail. April hung up her own phone. Focusing on her daughter’s phone, she scrolled through the call history. Nothing more recent than three days ago, and all the calls had been to April’s phone.

  She checked her own phone’s history. Nothing recent but for Sid’s calls a few days ago. No missed calls.

  “Oh, Sid.”

  Maybe there was something else on the phone, some clue that would help her. She hit the home button and caught her breath at what she saw. Her ten-year-old daughter had managed to install a custom wallpaper. Clearly she’d also figured out how to hide most of the apps in a single file to declutter the screen enough to display the picture. It was a shot of April in the Boisvert’s kitchen, but she wasn’t alone. Scott Standish was there with her. He was looking down at her with the biggest smile on his face, and she was grinning right back.

  She swallowed hard. If only Scott were here, he’d help her find Sidney. He’d know where to look.

  If only he hadn’t left. Sidney had been so happy having him around.

  But Scott wasn’t here. There’d be no help from that quarter.

  She pushed the self-pity away and went back to exploring the phone. She found nothing on there that she hadn’t approved. A quick look at the browser history was equally unenlightening.

  Think, April. Okay, nothing on the phone. Maybe she’d left a note.

  Wait, the journal!

  April pulled out the night table’s drawer and there it was, the beautiful journal with the Ladybug on the cover that she’d given Sidney for her tenth birthday.

  She ran her hand over the cover. The words SID’S JOURNAL were scrawled across the cover, and beneath, a white piece of paper had been glued into place. The words on the paper read: Sid the Kid - Ha Ha! You are STAR-TACULAR!

  That’s what Scott had written on the birthday card when he’d given her his gift—a telescope. A kid’s one, but still an extravagant gift. Sidney had absolutely loved it. She’d shot into Scott’s arms for a long, tight hug. He’d smiled, looked at April as he’d hugged her back. But there’d been something in that smile—an unease. A worry.

  As she looked at the journal now, it broke her heart how carefully Sidney had cut Scott’s handwriting out—an almost perfect circle—and how neatly she’d glued it to the cover.

  Blinking rapidly, she opened the journal and some tiny papers fluttered to the floor. She bent and picked them up. There were three of them. The first was a phone number on a slip of paper along with the handwritten words Daven Dog Rescue. A second, similar slip read Rescue Mission—Dagwood the Rottie-Lab X. The final slip had a Visa credit card number on it, one she didn’t recognize.

  Oh God, could it be Dr. Boisvert’s credit card? She looked again at the slips of paper. Sidney was such a dog-lover. The first thing she did whenever they moved was to look up the local shelters. She loved to follow the dogs on the shelters’ websites and celebrated every time one was adopted. Could she have used Dr. Boisvert’s credit card to sponsor a dog?

  She sank down onto the bed. If she’d gotten her hands on a credit card…

  Taking a deep breath, she began flipping through the journal’s pages. Her daughter hadn’t written much, but she’d drawn and colored lots of pictures. There were some photographs too, which had been cut out and pasted into the journal. They appeared to have been taken with her phone, so Sidney must have found a way to download them and print them off. She had to have done that in Dr. Boisvert’s office.

  April stopped flipping when she came to one photo that pierced her heart. It was from Sidney’s birthday. She’d taken a selfie. Her image was in the foreground, all smiles and red cheeks and wind-blown hair. And in the background, April and Scott in an unguarded moment, completely unaware that the picture was being taken. Sid had drawn a red-marker heart around them.

  They were looking into each other’s eyes. About to steal a quick kiss while Sidney wasn’t looking.

  Such a dangerous game.

  Sidney had captured the moment perfectly. She’d also captured what April had allowed herself to feel that day—happy, safe.

  But even in that moment, she’d known she was deluding herself. Scott was a rambler. Always would be. She had scolded her fluttering heart for that smallest bit of hope.

  Scott Standish was the most unsafe man she knew—at least for her little world.

  And yet, she wished he was here.

  “Oh, Sidney.” This wasn’t just a kid playing hooky. “What have you done?”

  The phone rang. Even without the two distinct rings of the house line, she knew it had to be Mrs. Boisvert.

  She picked up the phone.

  “Miss Morgan, come down here immediately. This is not the day to be sleeping in. We’re behind schedule for our preparations.”

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Boisvert, but—”

  “No buts, Miss Morgan. I expected you to present yourself straight away. We’ve so much to do.”

  Bracing for Mrs. Boisvert’s wrath, she clenched the receiver harder. “I’m sorry, I can’t. Sidney seems to have disappeared.”

  “Oh, that imp! You must control her, Miss Morgan. Tell her we have no time for her games this morning.”

  “I’m afraid it’s more than a game. I think she slipped out in the night. She made up the bed to look as though she was in it, and she took some of her things.”

  “Oh, dear. She’s really run away, then?”

  Hearing the words spoken by someone else made her stomach lurch. She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m afraid so.”

  “I’m so very sorry,” the older woman said, her voice soft with sympathy. “Of course you must focus on finding her quickly. I’ll have Claude Fournier call you straight away. He can review the security tapes with you. Perhaps you can see how she got off the estate or what direction she took.”

  Recognizing the name of the security person, April wilted with relief. “Thank you.”

  “But you understand what this will mean, no? Bad enough to have young Sidney’s antics disturbing the tranquility we strive to create, but this morning…” Mrs. Boisvert drew an audible breath and expelled it. “I fear that we will fail to impress Ms. McCoy.”

  April massaged her temple. Oh, Sidney. “I understand. As soon as I’ve located my daughter, I’ll start packing.”

  Chapter 3

  POOR APRIL. It was still early in Montreal, but not so early she wouldn’t have noticed her daughter’s absence. She must be frantic. Scott stepped out onto the porch, out of earshot of Sid and the others, and hit April’s number. He paced as he waited for it to connect.

  She answered on the fir
st ring. “Scott!”

  “Sid’s safe, April.” He went down the steps to the front yard. “She’s here with me. I know it’s a lot to take in, but the important thing is she’s safe.”

  “Oh thank God!” Her voice quavered with relief, then dissolved into sniffles.

  Scott closed his eyes, relieved he wasn’t there to see her cry. A woman’s tears—even his sister’s—always bothered the hell out of him. But sharing the stage with that guilty relief was the conflicting desire to jump back in the old truck and drive like a bat out of hell to wipe every one of those tears away.

  “We just found her minutes ago,” he said. “She stowed away in the back of the truck. Rode all the way to Harkness like that. I hadn’t a clue.”

  “I was just about to call you. I’m sitting here with the Boisverts’ security person scouring surveillance tape. We just finished watching her disappear behind your truck with a big bundle in her arms.”

  “Yeah, that would be her sleeping bag. She managed to get under the tarp and wriggle all the way up to the front of the truck bed.”

  “Is she all right?”

  “Cold and hungry, but she’s fine. And she’s in great hands. My sister Ember, the doctor, is with her right now.”

  “Scott, I… Did she tell you why she ran away?”

  Silence. No, Sid hadn’t told him, but he could guess. “We haven’t talked about it yet. I wanted to call you right away because I knew you’d be worried.”

  “This is my fault. I knew she was upset over…things.”

  The things she was talking about included his leaving. From what April had said, when he’d come home to Harkness for Thanksgiving, Sid had started acting out more and more. When he’d left Montreal last night for good…

  “But running away? Scott, what was she thinking? She’s only ten!”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “Let me talk to her for a bit, April. See what I can figure out.”

  “Okay, good idea. She might open up to you.”