Everyone looked so good. Where was the leavening of dowdiness that existed in any other population? Where were the overweight, the plain? They couldn't all be wanna-be movie stars, surely?

What had Luke said once?

"The cream of the crop came out West to get into the movies, and when they didn't, they stuck around and married each other. What you see on the streets is the third generation."

So much beauty was unnerving, like finding yourself in one of those episodes of Star Trek where nobody could crew a spaceship if they didn't look good enough to wear short skirts or skintight suits.

She'd dressed sensibly for the long flight, in old jeans and a sweater. Now being sensible felt like a crime.

At twenty-nine Pippa was tall and slim, with reddish brown, shoulder-length hair that curved naturally and a heart-shaped face. She had large, luminous eyes and a wide mouth that had always laughed easily. Her charm lay in that laughter and in the hint in her eyes that it came from way down deep inside her.

But she hadn't laughed so much recently, not since the doctor had said, "Pippa, I have to be honest with you…" And just now she felt as though she might never laugh again.

At last she had their baggage, they were safely through Immigration and could head for the airport hotel.

"Why couldn't we just stay with Daddy?" Josie wanted to know as they unpacked.

"Because he doesn't know we're coming, so he won't be ready for us."

It didn't take long to put everything away, and then Josie wanted to be up and going. They found a cab, and Pippa gave the driver Luke's address. "Will it take long?"

'"Bout ten minutes," he told her.

Only ten minutes, and she hadn't yet decided what she was going to say to Luke when he opened the door and saw her standing there with his daughter. Why hadn't she warned him they were coming?