Reunited

trying to contact her. When she called home, Keely was stunned to learn that both Janelle and Kim had made a New Year's resolution-to open their own cake-decorating business. To that end, they'd both handed in their resignations before the clock struck midnight, leaving Keely with only one assistant, and a rookie at that.

So she'd rushed back home and over the past few days had been elbow deep in buttercream, working day and night to finish the jobs they'd been contracted for, and to meet with customers who had been waiting for over a month to discuss their ideas.

Keely sighed softly and glanced between the bride and her mother. What was so difficult about choosing? If it were her wedding, she'd know precisely what she wanted. She'd wear a simple silk shantung gown with an Irish lace overlay on the bodice and a fingertip-length veil. And her bridesmaids would wear deep blue if the wedding was in winter and pale peach if it were in summer. Her wedding cake would be alive with color, maybe a detailed basket-weave pattern with fresh berries cascading over the edges of the tiers, or gum paste roses with iridescent color. A small combo that played romantic dance standards would entertain at the reception and guests would dine on beef filet with a rich demiglace sauce and sauteed fingerling potatoes.

As for her groom, Rafe would be dressed in-Keely stopped herself. After all that had happened between them, how could she possibly believe that she and Rafe would ever walk down the aisle together? That was just a fantasy now, and it would probably remain a fantasy. She sighed inwardly. But he would have made a handsome groom, dressed in a morning coat and ascot with a single white rose in his lapel.

She could have been planning her wedding right now if she hadn't chosen her family over Rafe. If she had given him a chance, he might have asked her to marry him. She bit her bottom lip. What if she'd given up her only chance at true happiness? What if Rafe Kendrick was the last man who would ever tell her he loved her?

'What if I grow old alone, turn into a wretched old hag and everyone calls me the 'cake lady'?' Keely murmured.

'Miss McClain?'

Keely shook herself out of her daydream. 'Yes? I'm sorry, what were you saying?'

The bride pointed to the tulip cake. 'This is the one. It's perfect for our spring wedding. But I was wondering if we might change the color of the tulips to go with my colors.'

'Of course,' Keely said. 'That would be no problem. Why don't you send me a small swatch of the color and I'll match it exactly? Then you'll also need to give me your final guest count so I can size the tiers accordingly.' Keely smiled, then stood. She took the cake design and rolled it up, then handed it to the bride. 'You can take this with you to show your bridesmaids.'

The bride held out her hand and Keely took it. 'Thank you so much for agreeing to do our cake. The first time I saw one of your designs, I knew I'd have to have you for my wedding.'

'A Keely McClain cake is the best,' the bride's mother said. 'And our Lisa Ann deserves the best.'

Keely watched as the bride and her mother walked out the front door of the bakery. 'Keely Quinn,' she murmured. 'A Keely Quinn cake is the best.'

She gathered up the rejected designs, then wandered back into the workroom. Fiona was there, piping a border around the top edge of another Keely Quinn design, this one for a wedding in the style of Louis XIV. 'That's supposed to be fleur de lis,' Keely said. 'Not rope. Rope is too simple.'

'If you don't like it, you can bloody well do it yourself,' Fiona said, arching her eyebrow.

Keely sighed. She had only been back home for a few days and already she and her mother were on the edge of an argument. Fiona still couldn't accept her decision to go to Boston and find her father and brothers, and had never stopped trying to convince her to stop her 'foolish' quest. Yet she also seemed desperate for any news Keely might provide about her sons. Add to that her worry over the bakery and the business and she snapped at everything Keely said.

Keely picked up a pastry bag filled with icing and began to pipe the fleur de lis onto the cake. 'There's something I need to tell you, Ma.'

Fiona looked up. 'The only thing I want to hear is that you're home to stay.'

'This is serious,' Keely said softly.

'What is it?' Worry suffused Fiona's expression. 'Is it one of the boys?'

'No, they're fine. At least they were the last time I saw them. It's Seamus. He's in trouble.'

Her mother laughed harshly and shook her head. 'Well, that's not news now, is it? He always had a fondness for pushing his limits with the law.'

The border her mother was piping suddenly became uneven. Keely reached over and grabbed her arm, then slowly lowered the pastry bag to the table. 'This is different, Ma. He's in real trouble. He's been accused of murder.'

Fiona gasped and the bag slipped from her fingers. 'Murder?'

'Do you remember anything about a crew member on my father's boat who died during a fishing run? His name was Sam Kendrick.'

Keely saw the subtle shift in her mother's expression, as if she were surprised to hear the name after so many years. 'No,' she said. 'I can't recall the name.'

'You must know something. Ma, a man died on Seamus's boat. Surely he must have spoken of it.'

'He might have mentioned it, but that was a long time ago.' Fiona picked up the pastry bag. 'I don't recall the particulars. Are you going to help me with this or are you going to stand there and chatter?'

'Try to remember. It's important.'

'I hope you're not planning to go back to Boston anytime soon,' Fiona said, changing the subject. 'Your absence has put a terrible strain on the business. We haven't booked any new clients since you left and if you don't come back soon we won't have any business next spring. The clients want to meet with you. You're the one with the reputation, not me, and they won't book with us unless they get to talk to you about their weddings.'

'This is my business,' Keely muttered. 'And if I choose to run it into the ground, that's also my business.' She paused, realizing how harsh her words sounded. 'I'm not going to run it into the ground. But maybe it would be better if we slowed things down a little bit.'

'I'm beginning to think you prefer Boston to New York. Maybe we should just think about picking up and moving the business there.'

Keely knew her mother was simply being sarcastic. But the idea wasn't a bad one. Boston was only three hours away with decent traffic. She'd have to buy a refrigerated truck and they'd have to make arrangements to deliver the cakes on Friday night rather than Saturday morning, and she would have to travel back into the city once or-

She drew her thoughts to a halt. This was crazy! She promised herself she wouldn't fall into this trap, of fantasizing about a life with a man she could never have. If she lived in Boston, in all practicality her business in New York would be seriously affected. She'd have to build a whole new clientele in a whole new town, where people might not be inclined to spend thousands of dollars on a silly cake.

'When are you planning to tell them?'

Keely grabbed a damp towel and wiped a bit of icing from her hand. 'With everything that's going on with Seamus, it didn't seem to be the right time. Just more confusion on top of what they already have. I just wish there was something I could do to help. It would make telling them so much easier.'

'Lee Franklin,' Fiona murmured as she continued piping.

'What?'

'Lee Franklin. He was a crew member on that run. He saw the whole thing. His wife and I were good friends and she told me what he said about the incident. Your father wasn't responsible for that man's death, Keely.'

'Where is this Franklin guy?'

'I have no idea. I don't know if he's alive still.' She stopped what she was doing and grabbed a pad and pencil from the table. After she'd scribbled something on the paper, she ripped the sheet off and handed it to Keely. 'That's his social security number. I suppose you could track him through that.'

'How could you possibly know his social security number?'

'I used to do the books for the Mighty Quinn,' Fiona explained. 'I made up little tricks to remember the numbers of the crewmen so I wouldn't have to look them up all the time. Lee Franklin's began with Conor's birthday and ended with our house number. His was the easiest to remember.'

Keely couldn't believe what she'd been given. She jumped off the stool and threw her arms around her mother's