"Two ingredients, including water. Very impressive."

Claire refused to let her sister's sarcasm spoil her happy mood. This was her first real breakfast and it had turned out with only one try. Yay, her. Today oatmeal, tomorrow, a sandwich!

Nicole reached for the bowl. "I thought maybe you were leaving."

"No, sorry. I'm here until you're back on your feet." She thought about Jesse's unexplained absence. "Unless you want me to call Jesse and ask her to come."

"No."

"Are you sure?"

Nicole's gaze turned icy. "Jesse is not welcome here."

Okay, so there was a problem. Claire had already guessed as much. "When did you two stop speaking?"

"I'm not discussing this with you."

"What did she do?"

"What part of my previous statement didn't you understand? She's a born liar and a cheat. She lied to you about me wanting you here and she-" Nicole dropped her spoon back into the bowl. "Just go."

Claire assumed she meant from the bedroom rather than the house. Either way she stayed in place. "She's just a kid."

"She's twenty-two and you don't know what you're talking about."

Claire wanted to understand the problem, but she had a feeling that pushing wasn't going to help. "You need to eat something. You'll get better faster if you do."

"Motivation. That's good." She took a small taste of the oatmeal. "Brown sugar?"

"Uh-huh."

Nicole ate a little more while Claire hovered in the doorway. She wanted to go sit down, but that felt too intrusive.

The whole situation was crazy, she told herself. Why did things have to be so awkward? Although she knew the answer, she wanted it to be different. She wanted them to be different.

"Why aren't you on tour?" Nicole asked as she reached for her coffee. "Is that what you do with your day? Play piano for people? Won't your adoring fans miss you?"

Claire stiffened. Without wanting to, she remembered her last performance. The heat of the lights, the pressure in her ears, the murmur of the crowd and most of all, the tightness in her chest.

She'd been unable to catch her breath, and had walked out on stage, feeling as if she was going to have a heart attack and die. She'd been unable to focus on her playing. There had only been the thundering of her heart and the knowledge that she would collapse at any second.

She'd played badly because of it, she thought, recalling the humiliation. While she might play the same music over and over again, she always remembered that for her audience, this was a special event. They'd taken time from their busy lives, bought a ticket and come to see her. She owed them her best. That night she'd failed. Then she'd collapsed and had to be helped off the stage.

Shame filled her. She'd failed publicly. She'd let the panic win. Worse, she didn't know how to keep it from winning.

"I didn't mean for the question to be so hard," Nicole said.

"I'm taking a break," she murmured.

Nicole's cell phone rang. She reached for it. "Hey, Sid. What's up?" She paused, then groaned. "You have to be kidding. No, no. I understand." Her gaze settled on Claire. "No way. Are you serious? But do you remember-Fine. It's your call. I'll tell her."

Nicole hung up, then looked at Claire. "We have a problem at the bakery."

Claire thought about the tumbling bag of salt and wondered what other damage it had done. "Which is?"

"Our two morning clerks called in sick. There's no one to work the front counter. Normally I would fill in or ask Jesse, but neither of those are possible. You're going to have to do it."

"What? What do you mean?"

Nicole rolled her eyes. "What was unclear? Work the counter. Take money for goods. Don't panic. There's no actual math involved. The cash register does that for you. Just take their money and give them change. Even you can do that."

Claire didn't want to. She really didn't want to. The potential to screw up seemed huge. But Nicole needed her.

"Okay," she said. "I'll do it."

"Fine. Stay away from the back."

FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER, Claire had changed and was heading to her car. She walked outside only to find Jesse leaning against her rental.

"Hey, big sister. How's it going?"

"How's it going? How's it going? That's all you have to say to me? You're kidding, right?" She was both happy to see her sister and so angry she could spit. "You set me up. You lied to me. Nicole doesn't want me here. She hates me. What is up with that? And why aren't you around taking care of things?"

"Nicole and I are having some issues."

"Guess what? I don't care about that. How could you lie to me?"

Jesse, tall and thin, pretty, with hair down to her waist, straightened. "I didn't lie. Nicole did have surgery and she does need you."

"But she hates me. She's not interested in reconciling and everyone she knows hates me."

"Well, that's true." Jesse actually grinned. "She tells some great stories about you."

"Great from whose perspective?"

"Anyone listening. Probably not you." Jesse sighed. "She needs help. I know she thinks I don't care about her, but I do. I didn't know who else to call. You're here and that's what matters."

Claire groaned. "It isn't what matters. I don't belong here." Not that she was leaving, but still. "Every moment is uncomfortable. And who is Wyatt? He hates me, too. Did she spend all her time telling him horrible things about me?"

"Not all, but some. Wyatt and Nicole are friends. Have been for a long time. His stepbrother, Drew, married Nicole. They, ah, just broke up a couple of weeks ago. I don't know if they're going to get back together."

Jesse crossed her arms over her chest as she spoke. Claire felt the undercurrents but didn't know what they meant.

"She never even invited me to the wedding," Claire murmured.

"Did you expect her to?"

"Of course. I would have come."

"Assuming you weren't playing for the queen that night."

Claire glared at her. "Don't you dare take any attitude with me, Jesse. Most of this is your fault."

"I'm not the one who took off and left her family behind to go be famous."

There was a bitterness in her sister's words. Claire frowned. "Is that what you think happened? That I simply decided to go off and be famous? I was six years old. I didn't get to decide anything. They decided for me." Her parents, her teacher. One day she'd been living in Seattle and the next she was on a plane to New York. "They took me away from my family and no matter how much I begged, they wouldn't let me come home."

"Poor little prodigy," Jesse said. "Is the fame too much? Are you having too much fun?"

"It's not like that."

But she didn't bother explaining. No one wanted to know the truth. Not the past or the present. No one wanted to hear about the hours spent practicing, the late nights and early mornings, the delayed flights, the grueling schedule. No one cared that after a while, all the hotels rooms looked the same and that the only way she could tell what city she was in was by looking at the newspaper on her breakfast tray. That while she'd visited some of the most amazing places in the world, she'd never seen them. There wasn't time.

"I'm a trained circus animal," she said at last. "Nothing more."

"You were the princess." Jesse's mouth twisted. "Fussed over, pampered. Wanted. Probably still are. It wasn't like that here. At least not for me."

"What do you mean?"

Jesse shrugged. "It doesn't matter."

Claire had a feeling it did matter a lot. "Why did you and Nicole fight?"

Jesse stiffened. "I don't want to talk about that."

"You'd better. It's the reason you lied to me. You dragged me all the way out here to deal with some mess you couldn't. So what happened?"

"I..." Jesse drew in a breath. Her expression turned defiant. "Nicole caught me in bed with her husband. She wasn't happy."

Claire opened her mouth, then closed it. Shock flooded her. "You slept with your sister's husband? You had sex with him?" It was impossible. Who did that sort of thing? "She's family."

"She would disagree with you about that. She disowned me."

Jesse sounded so calm about all of this. As if what she'd done didn't matter. Claire wanted to shake her. "Do you blame her? What were you thinking?"

"I wasn't thinking. I wasn't doing a lot of things but no one wants to hear that."

Claire glared at her. "You need a better excuse than that. Sex doesn't just happen. You didn't stumble into him and suddenly you were having sex. It requires a plan, a relationship of some kind. I can't believe it. How long were you seeing him?"

"We weren't seeing each other. I told you. It just...It's not..." Jesse straightened and walked back toward her car. "I don't want to talk about this with you."

"Ask me if I care." No wonder Nicole was upset and crabby. Her own sister and her husband. "Are you in love with him?"

"Oh, please. Give me a little credit. Besides, I have a boyfriend."

"But you slept with Drew?" None of this made sense to Claire. "Why?"

"I didn't sleep with him."

"What? Nicole walked in before you consummated the deal and that makes it okay?"

Jesse looked at her for a long time. "I know you won't believe me. Nicole didn't, either. I don't know why it happened. Why it had to happen. Maybe because I've been a screwup my whole life. This is just one more way I've made things worse."

"That's not good enough."

Jesse looked at her for a long time, then opened her car door. "Pretty funny. That's what Nicole said."

WYATT BUTTONED the back of his daughter's blouse, then reached for the brush. She signed as he worked, but he pretended not to see. Amy wasn't saying anything he wanted to hear.

But when she turned to face him and put her small hands on her hips, he knew he didn't have a choice. He set down the brush and held out both hands, palms up, signing "What?"

"You know what," Amy signed in response.

He did. He didn't want to, but his daughter's message had been clear enough.

"Not a good idea," he signed back.

Which earned him the inevitable, "Why?"

Why? There were a thousand reasons, none of which he could explain to an eight-year-old.

"I want Claire," she signed, her face getting that stubborn look he dreaded.

As a rule, Nicole looked after Amy from the time she left school until Wyatt got away from his work. If he was in the office, she would come there instead, but most afternoons he was on a job site-not a place he wanted his eight-year-old hanging out.

But with Nicole recovering from surgery, babysitting was becoming a problem. Amy wanted to propose her own solution.

He didn't think telling her that Claire wasn't the babysitting type would help. Amy wouldn't know what that meant. He also couldn't get into the fact that he'd decided to avoid Claire as much as possible. The sparks between them were too dangerous, not to mention unwanted.

"I like her," Amy signed. "She's nice."

Wyatt could think of a lot of words to describe Claire and none of them included the word nice.

"She won't want to," he signed back. "She's busy."

Amy grinned. "She likes me."

He didn't know how to deal with that. Maybe Claire did like his kid-assuming she was capable of liking anyone but herself.

"I'm not asking for a pony," Amy signed, making him smile.

It was their private joke. Nothing was too big as long as it wasn't a pony.

He was trapped by his inability to tell his daughter the truth. That he didn't trust Claire and he wasn't a hundred percent sure he could control himself around her. How was that for a sad excuse?