Fern wondered what it would be like to have a beautiful, button-nosed babe of her own.

The miracle of human birth was an unknown. Fern knew enough to understand that it began with a woman…and a man.

She could see only one side of Paul’s face as he gazed down at his daughter. What would it be like to have a child with this oh-so-handsome man? No sooner had the thought entered her head that Fern was besieged with a forceful sensation.

Oh, my! Her thoughts were imposing a transformation. She was going to become human. Right now!

Panic had her winging toward the doorway. She barely got to safety when she changed into flesh and blood.

“Be still my heart,” she whispered.

All this time she’d thought that it had been because of the baby that she had the ability to turn human. But it wasn’t wee Katy at all.

“It’s been Paul all along.”

Dear Reader,

Are you headed to the beach this summer? Don’t forget to take along your sunblock—and this month’s four new heartwarming love stories from Silhouette Romance!

Make Myrna Mackenzie’s The Black Knight’s Bride (SR #1722) the first book in your tote bag. This is the third story in THE BRIDES OF RED ROSE, a miniseries in which classic legends are retold in the voices of today’s heroes and heroines. For a single mom fleeing her ex-husband, Red Rose seems like the perfect town—no men! But then she meets a brooding ex-soldier with a heart of gold.…

In Because of Baby (SR #1723), a pixie becomes so enamored with a single dad and his adorable tot that she just might be willing to sacrifice her days of fun and frivolity for a human life of purpose…and love! Visit a world of magic and enchantment in the latest SOULMATES by Donna Clayton.

Even with the help of family and friends, this widower with a twelve-year-old daughter finds it difficult to think about the future—until a woman from his past moves in down the street. Rest and relaxation wouldn’t be complete without the laughter and love in The Daddy’s Promise (SR #1724) by Shirley Jump.

And while away the last of your long summer day with Make Me a Match (SR #1725) by Alice Sharpe. A feisty florist, once burned by love, is supposed to be finding a match for her mother and grandmother…not falling for the town’s temporary vet! Matchmaking has never been so much fun.

What could be better than greeting summer with beach reading? Enjoy!

Mavis C. Allen

Associate Senior Editor

Because of Baby
Donna Clayton
Soulmates

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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This book is dedicated to Cat, Nan, Jeannie, Terry,

Karen, Kathy, Beth, Pam, Carla, Mary, Ruth, Patricia and

Janis; lovers of pixies, one and all! I’d travel

to the ends of the earth for you…or at least to VA.

I love you loopy ladies, you know I do!

Books by Donna Clayton

Silhouette Romance

Mountain Laurel #720

Taking Love in Stride #781

Return of the Runaway Bride #999

Wife for a While #1039

Nanny and the Professor #1066

Fortune’s Bride #1118

Daddy Down the Aisle #1162

*Miss Maxwell Becomes a Mom #1211

*Nanny in the Nick of Time #1217

*Beauty and the Bachelor Dad #1223

†The Stand-By Significant Other #1284

†Who’s the Father of Jenny’s Baby? #1302

The Boss and the Beauty #1342

His Ten-Year-Old Secret #1373

Her Dream Come True #1399

Adopted Dad #1417

His Wild Young Bride #1441

**The Nanny Proposal #1477

**The Doctor’s Medicine Woman #1483

**Rachel and the M.D. #1489

Who Will Father My Baby? #1507

In Pursuit of a Princess #1582

††The Sheriff’s 6-Year-Old Secret #1623

††The Doctor’s Pregnant Proposal #1635

††Thunder in the Night #1647

The Nanny’s Plan #1701

Because of Baby #1723

Silhouette Books

The Coltons

Close Proximity

DONNA CLAYTON

is the recipient of the Diamond Author Award For Literary Achievement 2000 as well as two Holt Medallions. In her opinion, love is what makes the world go ’round. She takes great pride in knowing that, through her work, she provides her readers the chance to indulge in some purely selfish romantic entertainment.

One of her favorite pastimes is traveling. Her other interests include walking, reading, visiting with friends, teaching Sunday school, cooking and baking, and she still collects cookbooks, too. In fact, her house is overrun with them.

Please write to Donna c/o Silhouette Books. She’d love to hear from you!

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Epilogue

Prologue

“Quit your messin’ about in there, Fern!”

“Trouble’s brewin’. I can feel it.”

“Leave me be.” Fern waved off the warnings called from the open window of the nursery. She cocked her wings at just the right angle and spiraled into a jaunty somersault that elicited a delighted giggle from the tawny-haired baby in the crib. The child would be taken far from Ireland this morning, and Fern was determined to spend every available second with little Katy.

Just being this close to a human was frowned upon in Sidhe—the Irish fairy world. Actually interacting with the baby—entertaining her with fancy flying maneuvers, whispering rhymes that made her giggle—was strictly against the rules.

But Fern simply couldn’t resist. Babes, and even tots, were pure, their thoughts and perceptions as yet untainted by worldly matters. Because of this, they had no reason not to believe that fairies did exist. Katy’s innocence enabled her to see Fern.

Katy was an extra special baby. Fern took a nosedive and stopped short to plant a sweet kiss on a cheek that was rose-petal soft, then she zipped into the air and spun around to gaze into a pair of wide eyes that glistened with clever imagination. Ah, yes, Katy was just as special as her mother had been.

Ah, Maire. Katy’s mother had been the light of Fern’s life for years. Fern had risked ridicule and chastisement from everyone in Sidhe by befriending Maire. But Fern hadn’t cared.

However, Maire was gone. Long ago she’d left for a place called America. She’d returned sometime later with a husband in tow. An intriguing man with a mesmerizing mahogany gaze. Fern had understood completely how Maire had lost her heart to Paul Roland. Why, Fern herself would have fallen silk booties over wings for him had such a thing not been forbidden to her.

The last time Maire had returned home, her belly had grown round, and Fern had overheard the humans talk about a baby that was soon to arrive.

This year, however, Paul had returned to Ireland without Maire, and Fern had met Katy for the very first time. Fern had wondered about Maire’s absence, but playing with the babe was much more fun than fretting about the unknown. Pixies did their best not to do much worrying.

“He’s coming! Fern, get out of there. Now!”

Looking toward the door, Fern smiled when she saw Paul Roland. Her wings hummed like summer lightning and her skin felt prickly. He was the most striking creature—human or otherwise—that she’d ever laid eyes on.

“Fern!”

She tossed her friends an irritated glance. “Sure, he can’t see me. He’s no believer. I’m perfectly safe.”

If the truth be told, Fern had lingered with Katy today because of Paul. She’d said her goodbyes to the baby; however, she longed for the chance to wish him farewell, too. Harboring this fondness for the oh-so-handsome human was dangerous, she knew. But he was going far away today and who knew when she’d see him again.

“Hey, there, sweetie,” he crooned to his daughter.

Like warm velvet, his voice was, and it made Fern sigh.

“It’s time for us to go.” He reached into the crib, and Fern fluttered toward the foot of the bed. He set Katy up on her bottom.

“Da-da,” the toddler grinned. “Go bye-bye?”

“Yes, we’re going bye-bye, Katy. This visit with grandma and grandpa has been wonderful, but we have to go home. We have to get you ready.”

Fern flew to the best vantage point from which to feast on his dark, enchanting eyes. She was close enough to Katy to smell her baby-powder scent, while one of the child’s whispery ringlets curled around Fern’s ankle. Paul looked away long enough to reach for the white sweater draped over the crib rail.

But quickly his attention was directed back toward Katy again. Even though he couldn’t actually see her, Fern felt all warm and happy inside, like she did every morning when she watched the sun climb over the horizon of Sidhe to chase away the cool Irish mist.

“Come on, now,” Paul coaxed his daughter. “Let’s put this on. It’s chilly outside.”

“No!” Katy hugged her arms close to her chest.

A silent chuckle erupted from Fern’s throat. She’d watched father and daughter play this game often over the past couple of weeks. The routine clearly amused Paul, and laughter rumbled from deep in his chest.

She became so transfixed on his face that she was barely aware of the way in which he and Katy frolicked and fussed until Paul managed to slip one sleeve up his daughter’s arm.

Oh, by me heart. Fern silently swore the age-old fairy oath without thought. How she would miss him. She’d miss the silken timbre of his voice, his heated, soapy scent, that quick smile…and those…amazing…arresting eyes.

“Wady go bye-bye!”

As Katy uttered the words, her chubby fist closed around Fern. The toddler’s fingers curled tight, and everything went dark in Fern’s world. Panic had her gasping in a lungful of air.

“Lady?” Paul’s tone held a measure of both amusement and curiosity. “Oh, you are my little lady.” He chuckled as he pulled the knitted fabric over the dimpled hand that trapped Fern. Katy’s grip loosened and Fern found herself rolling, dragged along by the nappy knit, up, up, until she was lodged in the crook of the child’s elbow.

Fern felt herself being hoisted up into the air. Her heart was hammering, but she was pinned, good and firm, between the sweater sleeve and Katy’s downy skin.

“Me and my little lady are off to the airport,” Paul said. “We’ll be back in America before you can say lickety-split.”

“Icky-spit!” Katy gleefully parroted.

Fern could hear her pixie friends buzzing fran tically outside the nursery window, and she could only imagine their horrified expressions as she was whisked away.

Chapter One

Trapped!

For what seemed an eternity, Fern squirmed and wriggled in an attempt to free herself, but it had soon become clear that there was no escape. So, like any good pixie, she settled on the notion of relaxing and simply savoring the adventure…the supreme of all fairy mottos.

Adventure was what she was headed for, that was for sure.

The first leg of the journey had been made in what she’d assumed was an automobile. She’d never been inside of one, but the gentle rocking had lulled Katy to sleep, and Fern had simply enjoyed the soft music that had filled the air and the soft sound of Paul humming along.

Then things had gotten a bit more bumpy as Paul had carried his daughter—and her pixie tag-along—through what Fern could only envision as a huge crowd of humans. There had been some waiting, and then they’d been on the move again. Bumping and jostling down what felt like a narrow corridor…and the clamor of all those voices! Why, Fern easily imagined a thousand different conversations taking place at once.

Finally they’d settled into a seat, and someone helped Paul with something called an extension seat belt meant to fit around both father and daughter.

Fern had suffered a moment or two of anxiety when a din the likes of which she’d never heard set Katy to crying. Whatever it was that surrounded them began to shudder as it shot forward in a flash. Paul’s rich voice murmured comforting words that settled Fern—if not Katy—right down. If he wasn’t alarmed, she needn’t be. Soon the violent vibrating ceased. Fern’s ears began to pop, and she knew they were airborne. She and the other pixies had often marveled at those shiny crafts that soared through the sky over Sidhe, and she was awed to think that she was now inside one of them. Yes, she was most definitely going to savor this exciting escapade.

But as time passed, her muscles began to grow stiff. A crick pained her neck and her left foot fell asleep. Katy had been fidgeting for some time, despite Paul’s efforts to entertain her. The more the toddler squirmed, the higher her body temperature rose, and Fern became overheated herself. Her wings felt limp and her head was woozy.

Salvation came when Katy shrugged her shoulders, tugged at her sweater and whined, “Me hot, Da-da.”

Sweeter words had never been spoken. But Fern hadn’t anticipated the force with which she’d be thrust from her cottony trap. She was sent rolling and tumbling, and then she was freefalling. Disoriented, she relaxed into the plummet and then shook out her wings by sheer instinct. She landed with a double skip on Paul’s knee. Stretching this way and that, she worked the kinks from her aching muscles.

Katy began to whimper.

“How about a drink of apple juice?” Paul asked.

The child’s snivels progressed to chin-trembling tears. He pulled out the lidded cup, his arm jerked, and a drip of juice sloshed onto his hand. Realizing that she was parched herself, Fern zipped into the air high enough that she could bend over and sip the sweet nectar from his skin.

Sensing Paul’s sudden stillness, Fern turned to look up at him. His dark eyes seemed to be directed right at her, and every inch of her neck and arms sparkled as though pointed stars rolled end over end along her flesh. Her lips formed a silent oh. Did he see her?

But the question barely had time to form in her mind before he blinked a couple of times, then picked up his crying daughter. “You’re tired, sweetie. Let’s go change your diaper and then you can take a nap.”

Fern followed close behind them. In the tiny cubicle, Paul changed Katy’s diaper, but the toddler continued to fuss. He tried to soothe her, but Fern could see that, tired himself, he was becoming flustered.

Hoping to cause a diversion, Fern lit into the air and whooshed back and forth in front of Katy’s face. But to no avail.

“Come on,” Paul murmured. “You need a rest.”

He left the rest room, and the door latched shut before Fern could escape. She was trapped once again.

Landing on a small ledge by the entrance, she waited. Someone would come in soon enough and she’d be free.

She frowned when she thought of how her attempt to distract the toddler from her sobs had been unsuccessful. Fern didn’t like to fail. Paul had been tense. How she wished she could help.

If she were human she could help.

What a scandalous thought. Talk about breaking the rules! Human transformation was the most prohibited of all pixie policies. Why, she could be tossed out of Sidhe altogether.

Paul’s exhausted face floated into her mind, his dark gaze weary with frustration.

She’d heard of rebel fairies turning into foxes or hares for a short time so they could race and play with their forest friends. But to turn human? She’d be the shame of every pixie in Ireland.

But she wasn’t in Ireland any longer, was she?

Closing her eyes, she pictured herself rocking wee Katy to sleep. Then the image softened and she was smoothing the frown from Paul’s troubled brow. She sighed. She could be of help to him…she could…

Fern lifted her eyelids and found herself staring into the mirror—at her own human reflection!

Paul had done everything he could think of to calm his daughter. He’d allowed her to grow overly tired, and if there was one thing he’d learned over the past twenty-four months of being Katy’s daddy, of raising her single-handedly, it was that that was never a good thing.

He’d plied her with every toy he’d brought along, terribly grateful for the empty seats on either side of him that the partially filled flight had provided and on which were now strewn an array of stuffed animals, rattles and playthings. Now, though, he hummed and rocked, but it seemed that all Katy wanted to do was fight him and the slumber she so desperately needed. Why did return transatlantic flights always seem longer than the ones that whisked you away from home?

The question barely had time to fade from his thoughts when the most peculiar pair of shiny satin slippers came into his view. The toes were turned up just slightly, lending them an almost enchanted charm. Paul smiled in spite of himself.

His gaze lifted to a pair of delicate ankles, then further over shapely calves and twin creamy, firm thighs that disappeared beneath the hem of a royal blue dress. With hips that had just the right swell, a waist narrow enough for him to span with both his hands and breasts that were nicely rounded, the woman standing before him was…well, Paul estimated, she was a perfect example of the female persuasion.

When he looked into her face, things only got better. Vibrant blue-green eyes flashed with liveliness, her pert nose was cute and her hair was a mass of coppery curls that just brushed the tops of her sun-kissed shoulders.

It was crazy, but it seemed as if she radiated a muted glow…a humming energy just waiting to spring from its boundaries the first chance it got. He was momentarily spellbound.

Her bronzed shoulders rounded rather coyly. “I’m here ta help.”

The quiet resonance of her voice was comforting, and her soft brogue clearly pegged her as Irish.

Evidence of the gratitude washing through him showed in the small smile he offered her. “Thanks,” he said, “but my Katy’s too cranky for anyone to have to deal with at the moment. Even I can’t make her happy, it seems.”

However, rather than nodding and backing away as he’d expected her to do, the woman began clearing the aisle seat of the teddy bear and plastic stacking toys that riddled it.

“Nonsense.” In a move that could only be described as graceful, she eased down beside him.

The fabric of her dress made a slight brushing sound as her fanny slid against the cushion, and the fact that he was aware of her enough to notice shocked him.

“Give her here,” she ordered. “I just love babes.”

Obviously, the woman didn’t have a clue about children. There was no way Katy was going to allow herself to be held by a stranger, not when irritability and exhaustion had her so cantankerous.

“But you don’t understand—”

Ignoring him, the woman reached out and tenderly touched his daughter’s arm. “How’s me pretty Katy?”

Paul expected his daughter to howl, but Katy left him stupefied when she looked at the woman through bleary eyes, and said through hiccupping sobs, “My wady,” as if an angelic savior had appeared right out of the clouds.

Katy scrambled from his lap, shoving herself away from him and launching herself into the arms of the stranger.

The woman’s light laughter rang like musical notes as she pulled the toddler to her. She didn’t seem the least bit fazed when Katy decided to get right up in her face, smooth both hands down her cheeks and gaze deeply into her eyes. It seemed Katy was mesmerized, and Paul grinned, thinking that he’d had the same initial reaction to the woman.

“Wady,” Katy whispered in wonder. Her small mouth pulled into a smile even as the last of her fat tears were rolling from her big dark eyes.

Paul’s amazement only grew when his daughter snuggled down into the cradle provided by the woman’s arms. Katy’s eyelids immediately fluttered closed, and she went still.

“I don’t believe it,” he murmured. “I just don’t believe it.”

The woman only smiled.

“I’m Paul,” he introduced himself. It was simply out of habit that he didn’t offer his last name. When people discovered his identity, they all too often tended to act a little strange. Effusive and fussy. Paul avoided that as much as possible, just as he avoided the pretensions of limos and first-class accommodations. He liked to think of himself as a regular Joe, just like 99.9 percent of everyone else on earth.

“I’m Fern,” she supplied.

Nice name. The opinion whispered through his head from somewhere in the back of his brain. And completely appropriate, he determined. She had the same litheness and grace as the flowing branches of a fern.

He blinked. It had been a long while since his thinking had taken such a whimsical turn. When he composed his stories, that kind of habitual imagery and quirky reflection had been imperative to his work, but it had been two long years since he’d put a single creative thought to paper. He’d been too busy with real life.

“So, Fern—” suddenly he felt tongue-tied, like an awkward teen trying to break the ice “—you’re on your way to the States?”

“I’m going to America.”

The inflection in her voice almost gave the impression she didn’t know that the two places were one and the same, but that would be rather silly. Everyone knew…

He shoved the notion out of his head and asked, “Is this your first trip abroad?”

She nodded. “It is.”

“So, you’re excited.” It wasn’t a question. He could clearly see the thrill gleaming in her turquoise gaze, and it only made her more beautiful.

If that were possible.

Her smile widened, and that’s when he learned that the concept of her becoming more beautiful was possible, and all it had taken was a smile.

“I am that.”

The words came out sounding like, I yem, and Paul suppressed the pleasurable smile that threatened to curl his lips. He liked her accent.

Then she added, “I’ve never been so excited in me life.”

He chuckled. “I can understand. The first time I visited Ireland, I wanted to see and do everything.”

“That’s the spirit. Savor the adventure.” Her head bobbed twice, the movement sending her curls bouncing. “Now, those words are good ones to live by.”

“They are,” he agreed. “Is this trip for pleasure? Or are you going for a job?”

“I don’t do anything unless there’s pleasure involved.”

Her pointed expression had him going still. For an instant he thought she might be flirting with him, teasing him with a subtle sensual innuendo. But he realized quickly enough that there was no guile in her expression, just as there was none intended in her declaration. In fact, he realized, she was expressing herself simply and honestly, and that was refreshing, indeed.

“I have no idea about a job.” One of her shoulders raised a fraction. “But finding one would probably be important, I would expect. And the experience might be fun.”

“Are you staying with family? Or friends?” He shouldn’t be poking his nose in her business, but he couldn’t help himself. Curiosity simmered in him like a pot of water on a burner.

“No. I know no one in America.” She paused. “Except you and Katy, that is.”

Something stirred inside him, spiraling and twisting to life.

Her gaze dipped. “Sounds like you’re thinkin’ I have a plan. I have to admit, I don’t have one. It’s impossible to plan an adventure, you know.”

The warmth that had curled deep in his belly was completely forgotten. No plan? She was just going to step off the plane in New York and walk out into the unknown? He was hit with what felt like a dozen questions that needed asking. Did she have hotel reservations? Did she have enough money? Did she know it wasn’t safe for a woman traveling alone? Did she have an emergency contact? How would she—

“I’ll be fine. I always am.”

The concern that rushed at him must have shown itself on his face if she felt the need to assure him. But her sweet innocence ignited in him a powerful urge to protect.

Her blue-green eyes leveled on his face. “I think it’s time you told me a little something about you.”

So that ingenuous charm was balanced with a touch of brass. He liked that.

“All you’ve said was that you were eager to see everything in Ireland the first time you visited. So…have you? Seen everythin’, I mean?”

He couldn’t get over the way her brilliant eyes sparkled, seeming to draw him in, luring him to reveal all his secrets. He shook the ridiculous idea out of his head.

He pondered her question for only a moment before all the implications of it had him wincing slightly. “The circumstances between my first visits to your beautiful country and this one were…well, quite different, to say the least.”

She remained silent, evidently waiting for him to expound further.

“I honeymooned in Ireland during my first visit,” he told her. Memories of Maire threatened, but he held them at bay. Now wasn’t the time to be swallowed up by those shadows.

“How lovely. You must have had a grand time of it.”

“We did. And our second trip was just as wonderful. Maire and I had the pleasure of announcing to her parents that we were going to have a baby. Well, we didn’t really have to announce the fact, all they had to do was take one look at her.”

Memories loomed and threatened to swamp him. He took a head-clearing breath. Leaving the past in the past, he rushed ahead to the present. “But this trip, it was just me and Katy. You see, my wife, Maire, died giving birth to our daughter. She experienced some unexpected complications that the doctors hadn’t foreseen. That they hadn’t been prepared for. None of us were prepared.” He was vaguely aware of the far-off inflection his voice had taken on. He cleared his throat. “That was two years ago.”

But the void inside stubbornly remains, the words echoed silently.

With nothing short of brute force, he pulled himself back to the conversation at hand. “Anyway, with Katy being a baby and all, it had been impossible for me to take her back to Ireland until now.” Paul wondered why he was being so free with such personal information. This was so unlike him, yet it just felt right. “Her grandparents had come to visit her, of course, but I want Katy to be familiar with the place where her mother grew up—”

His gaze latched on to Fern’s face, the sight of her mournful gaze cutting his thought clean in two. Sadness seemed to pulse from her, and her eyes glistened with unshed tears.

Warmth permeated every nook and cranny in his being. She was a person of great compassion, a woman with an empathetic heart.

“Hey, now, stop that.” He reached over and smoothed his palm along her forearm. The instant his fingertips contacted her flesh, the intention of comforting the woe she was experiencing on his behalf left his mind as if it had never been there.

Her skin was smooth, the heat of her startling.

Paul pulled his hand away, the topic of the discussion and the delight shooting through him being so at odds that it set off a twinge of guilt that filled him with confusion.

Clearly, what he’d revealed had affected Fern. Careful not to touch her the way his subconscious was willing him to do, he murmured, “That all happened a long time ago. Katy and I are doing okay. Really. We are.”

She didn’t look convinced. But then, Paul didn’t see how his pronouncement should persuade her one way or the other when it hadn’t done much to influence him over these many long and lonely months.

Verbal affirmations were great, but how did you go about filling up the holes that were left after tragedy plundered your soul?

Since glancing into that mirror and seeing herself in real flesh-and-blood human form, Fern felt as if every sensation, every emotion, had been magnified a hundredfold.

She couldn’t say just how she’d transformed into a human. The experience was brand new to her. She was aware, however, that she was breaking a major pixie rule, and if she let herself dwell on that fact, she’d go into a panic for sure. So…Fern simply decided not to dwell on the hard truth. At least, not right now. Not when she was so focused on Paul.

She’d already admitted that Paul was as comely a creature as had ever had the fortune to live; however, when she’d walked the length of the aisle to where he sat and gazed down upon him, why, every inch of her skin had seemed to come alive with an awareness she’d never experienced before. And when he’d cast those mahogany eyes on her, she’d thought her knees would give way then and there.

What she might say to him had never entered her head until she was facing him. It was too late then to ponder in depth the follies of telling him the truth about herself. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she was some crazy pixie—insane person, in his view—who had come to vex him. It had only taken a fraction of an instant to make her mind up that acting a stranger was for the best. Besides, she hadn’t formally made his acquaintance before that moment, now, had she?

Fern had had to practically bully her way into the seat beside him, which had been quite rude, she knew, even by pixie standards. But if she hadn’t sat down she’d have risked succumbing to the faintness that had been swimming in her head.

Her heart had nearly ripped in two with tenderness when she’d held Katy for the first time. Oh, the affection she’d felt for the bairn when they had laughed together in the nursery back in Ireland had been great. But something about holding the toddler in her arms filled her with overwhelming feelings that were both unimaginable and breathtaking.

But the most jarring commotion she’d had to endure had been the impact of learning that Maire had died. Grief had walloped her from all sides. Anguish had scalded her eye sockets and burned the back of her throat.

It wasn’t as if she had never felt sadness before. Bad things happened in Sidhe, certainly. But it was the fairy way to avoid misfortune and bad dealings. A pixie spent her days frolicking and flying and having fun.

The sorrow that swept through her now, though, couldn’t be avoided by merely winging away from the moment.

Although Paul’s touch had calmed her angst, it had churned up other—very peculiar—emotions. She’d flushed with an odd heat, and a strange feeling had knotted in her belly.

Fern had no idea what was happening to her in this new human body, all she knew was that she liked the warmth and smoothness of Paul’s skin against her own. When he’d withdrawn his hand from her arm, she’d suffered something similar to acute desolation.

Human emotions, she was quickly discovering, were awesome in their power.

“Let’s talk about something a little more pleasant,” Paul suggested.

His intent was to chase away the gloom that had settled around them, she suspected. Although her smile was quivery, she nodded in emphatic agreement.

“What can I tell you about myself? Hmm…”

The rumbling resonance that rose from his chest as he pondered allowed Fern to let go of her sorrow over Maire. By me heart. The silent oath echoed in her head, but the very sound of the man’s voice was enough to make her forget the rest of the whole wide world.

“Katy and I live just outside New York City in the house I was raised in. My father ran a horse farm.”

“I love horses. Where I come from they’re considered one of the noblest of beasts.”

“Well, the horses are gone now.” He absently ran his fingertips along the armrest. “Once Dad died, Mom couldn’t run the business by herself. Running the farm hadn’t ever interested me. I had no talent with horseflesh, anyway. Working and communicating with animals is a gift…a gift that I wasn’t blessed with. So the horses were sold to other breeders.”

Fern knew that work—or an occupation, as she’d heard it called—was very important to humans. She’d witnessed people in Ireland going out to toil in the fields or going off to factories or working in the shops. Labor seemed to be a defining aspect in their existence. Hadn’t that been one of Paul’s first questions to her? So she asked him about his job.

“I’m a writer,” he supplied. “A novelist.”

She knew of books, and was even known to fly through the small village library on a dare. Her friends would laugh in delight when she’d use her magic dust to knock a book to the floor and startle someone, or she’d flutter her wings ferociously in order to turn the pages of this book or that to the vexation of the librarian. The harmless pranks were all in fun, of course. A good pixie made it a habit to be helpful and kind, but even respectable pixies suffered with boredom every so often.

“So you’re a teller of tall tales?”

He grinned, and Fern’s insides twisted up.

He said, “Horror stories are my forte.”

“Ah—” she offered him a knowing nod “—you like to frighten small children.”

Paul laughed. “Actually, my work is geared to adults.”

Her eyes widened. “Your stuff must be good and gory, then.”

The sigh issuing from him conveyed a weariness that made her head cock to the side. He evidently sensed her curiosity.

“I haven’t written anything for quite some time.”

Ever since Maire’s passing. He didn’t have to say the words. Fern just somehow knew it as fact. Empathy rose like floodwaters. Had she not been holding the sleeping Katy in her arms, she’d have reached out to him. The urge to comfort him was intense. Again she realized that the magnitude of these human emotions pulsing through her was like nothing she’d ever endured.

“But that’s got to change,” he told her. “My publisher’s been after me. They want a book, and they want it soon.”

“They’ve got confidence in you, then.”

“What do you mean?” His question was asked in a feathery whisper.

“If this publisher—” she wasn’t certain what a publisher was, but she wasn’t so daft that she couldn’t figure out it had something to do with the book-making business “—thought you weren’t capable of the job, he’d have called someone else.”

Paul studied her face for a moment, and then Fern saw his deportment change right before her very eyes; his spine straightened, his shoulders leveled and his gaze brightened.

“Thank you, Fern. I guess I needed to have that pointed out.”

Again he sighed. But this time the sound of it was easier, less tense.

Pleasure caused her toes to curl inside her silk booties. The fact that she’d lifted his spirits filled her with a delight that was absolute. Total. Oh, she wouldn’t mind basking in this warmth for a good long time.

“Of course,” he murmured, “there are some problems that need to be worked out. Like Katy.”

It was almost as if his discussion turned inward, as if the chat had turned serious and he was the only one participating.

“I guess I could write while she’s sleeping. But I can’t always count on the muse to come when I call. There’s day care, of course. I’m sure I could find a reputable—”

His sentence stopped short. Then his gaze swung to her face. It was evident that he’d been struck with some amazing thought or other.

“Fern, you said you need to look for a job. You said you don’t have a place to stay. We could help each other, you and I.”

If she could continue to be of some service to him, that would make her very happy.

“After seeing you with Katy, this is probably a silly question,” he said. “But I have to ask. Do you have experience with children?”

“I love children! I spend most of me time entertaining the little tykes, I do.”

He smiled. “I could tell pretty quickly that you have a way with kids. Katy fell for your charms from the get-go.”

“She’s a sweet thing, Katy is.”

“So would you consider it?” he asked. “Would you come stay with me and Katy? Take care of her for a fair wage and a place to stay? I’d have to check your references, but—”

Dread forced Fern’s eyes closed. Please don’t check me references. There are no references to check. I’m good and kind, and I love sweet Katy.

“But I really don’t need to do that,” Paul said, his voice suddenly soft and fuzzy. “I can tell you’re good and kind, and it’s clear that Katy trusts you. I should, too.”

Fern’s eyes went wide. It was as if her very thoughts had the power of pixie magic. She didn’t know how it had happened, or if it would ever happen again. But she was grateful for the enchantment.

“Like I said, I live close to the city,” Paul said, his tone miraculously back to normal again. “I promise to show you the sights. When you return to Ireland, you can tell all your friends about the places you’ve seen.”

His dark eyes sparkled with excitement. Exhilaration gathered in Fern’s chest and made it hard for her to draw breath.

“Well, now, isn’t this turn of events far from what I was expecting?” she said, astonished by the winded feeling that had overtaken her. “You make the arrangement sound like an adventure. And, well, a good adventure is just what I’m after.”

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