Christmas Star (Contemporary, Romance) by Roz Denny Fox Page A

SeLi into bed, write up a list of the equipment she’d need, then soak in a hot tub. After that she would crawl into bed and forget anyone by the name of Barclay McLeod existed. By morning all would be rosy again.
    * * *
    S TARR SHOULD HAVE KNOWN from experience that the morning wouldn’t be rosy. It rarely was in the Lederman household. She liked to sleep until the last possible second, and as a result she and SeLi were often late. Never one to eat breakfast, Starr had been forced to change her ways when she became a mother. More accurately, she’d seen a need to change when she caught SeLi hoarding food under her bed. That, and Wanda Manning’s checklist, with three nutritious meals a day right at the top, had been strong motivators.
    These days, though, SeLi usually ate anything put in front of her.
    Not today.
    “Why me, Lord?” Starr exclaimed to the kitchen clock. Last night hadn’t been too good. Sleep had evaded her. Not because she was worrying about her encounter with Barclay McLeod, but because she’d been plotting into the wee hours how best to approach Wanda with this outing. Her uncharacteristic lack of patience with Seli definitely reflected her loss of sleep.
    “This is lumpy,” wailed SeLi, expression militant. “Why can’t I just eat cold cereal like kids on TV?” Her spoon made ragged craters in a bowl of steaming oatmeal porridge as she picked out lumps and plopped them on her napkin.
    “SeLi, stop that. Oatmeal is good for you. It’s supposed to have a few lumps. I always ate hot cereal when I was a kid. Especially when it was cold and rainy out.” Starr bent and gave SeLi a coaxing smile around the hair ribbon she held in her teeth as she attempted to French-braid SeLi’s hair.
    “Ouch!” The girl jerked away. “You had a cook—Nana Patrice said. I bet no cook ever fixed yuck like this.” Plop went another lump, only this one flew and stuck to Starr’s chenille robe.
    “Darn it, SeLi, watch—” The doorbell rang sharply, cutting off the rest of Starr’s lecture. She swiftly tied a bow at the end of the braid, then settled her hand on SeLi’s shoulder to keep her seated. The girl had leapt up to answer the door.
    “That’ll be Kevin and Mike,” SeLi said in the tone of one seeing a reprieve. “You’re not really gonna make me finish this junk, are you? The school van won’t wait,” she warned. “Yesterday the driver told Darcy you’ll have to get up earlier or he’ll leave me behind.”
    Starr scraped at the cereal embedded in her robe. “Sit. If it’s the van, it’s early.” She checked her watch. “Fifteen minutes early. He’ll just have to wait.”
    Starr was determined SeLi wouldn’t wriggle out of eating this morning, even if she had to drive all three kids to school herself. “Eat half. I’ll invite the boys to wait in the living room.”
    “Brother.” SeLi sat and picked up her spoon.
    On her way down the hall, Starr gloated a bit over this minor triumph in the clash of wills. Yesterday the principal had recommended that she dig in her heels on some of the smaller issues. He said the larger ones would follow. It sounded logical. After all, SeLi had had free rein a long time.
    Well, no one ever said motherhood was easy, Starr thought as she opened the door and stepped behind it to conceal her ratty robe. It was comfy and warm, but not fit for any neighbor who happened to be in the hall to see.
    “Come in, guys. SeLi will be with you in a minute. Have a seat in the living room. I guarantee you won’t be late for the van.” Starr nearly choked on her last word as the door swung fully open to reveal the last person she’d expected to see. Barclay McLeod!
    It took a moment for the shock to pass. When it did, she snapped her open mouth shut so quickly she bit her tongue. The moment she was able to speak, she asked icily, “What do you want?”
    “Not a morning person, are we?” Clay shrugged and doffed his black Stetson. The action drew Star’s eye