"Thank you." She not only wanted to dance, she wanted to sing. Never in

her life had she felt like this. Giddy, nervous, and absolutely

beautiful. If this was infatuation, she had waited much too long to

experience it. There was a bouquet of daffodils and hyacinths in a vase

by the door. Bending over them, she knew she'd never smelled anything

sweeter.

"Emma." With a pencil tucked behind her ear and big black-framed gla.s.ses

perched on her nose, Bev hurried down the stairs. "I'm so glad to see

you." She wrapped her arms around Emma and hugged. "I know you

mentioned when I saw you in New York last winter that you'd be coming

over, but I didn't think you'd have time to visit."

"I have all the time in the world." With a laugh, Emma hugged her again.

"Oh, Mum, isn't it a beautiful day?"

"I haven't had a chance to so much as sniff the air, but I'll take your

word for it." Bev held her at arm's length, her eyes narrowed behind her

reading gla.s.ses. "You look as though you've lapped up the cream and the

saucer as well. What is it?"

"Do I?" Emma pressed her hands to her cheeks. "Do I really?"

Laughing again, she tucked an arm through Bev's. "Oh, I had to talk to

someone. I couldn't stand it. Dad's off somewhere meeting with Pete

and the new road manager. He wouldn't have done me any good anyway."

"No?" Bev slipped her gla.s.ses off, setting them on a table as they

walked toward the parlor. "What couldn't he have helped you with?"

"I met someone yesterday."

"Someone?" Bev gestured to a chair, then sat on the arm of it herself as

Emma continued to move around the room. "A male someone, I take it."

"A wonderful male someone. Oh, I know I sound like an idiot-the type of

idiot I've always promised myself I'd never be, but he's absolutely

gorgeous, and sweet and funny."

"Does this gorgeous, sweet, and funny man have a name?"

"Drew, Drew Latimer."

"Birdcage Walk."

With a chuckle, Emma gave Bev a hug before she began her nervous pacing

again. "You keep up."

"Of course." She frowned a moment, then called herself a prissy fool for

worrying about Emma having a romance with a musician. Pot calling the

kettle, she reminded herself and smiled. "So is he as wonderful to look

at in person as he is in pictures?"

"Better." She remembered the way he had smiled at her, the way his eyes

had warmed. "We just sort of ran into each other backstage. He was

sitting there on the floor, playing the guitar and singing, like Dad

does sometimes. Then we were talking, and he was flirting with me. I

suppose I babbled a bit." She shrugged. Babbling or not, she wanted to

remember every word of the meeting. "The best part, the very best part

is, he didn't know me." She swirled back to grab Bev's hands. "He

didn't have any idea who I was."

"Does that make a difference?"

"Yes. Oh yes. He was attracted to me, you see. Me, not Brian McAvoy's

daughter." She did sit then, for an instant, then was up again. "It

seems everyone I've dated has wanted to know about Dad, or what it's