Loe raamatut: «The Road To Love»

CHAPTER ONE

THE MELODIOUS SOUNDS of a love ballad drifted through the huge three-storey house in Seattle’s Capitol Hill. Ellen Cunningham hummed along as she rubbed her wet curls with a thick towel. These late-afternoon hours before her housemates returned were the only time she had the place to herself, so she’d taken advantage of the peaceful interlude to wash her hair. Privacy was at a premium with three men in the house, and she couldn’t always count on the upstairs bathroom being available later in the evening.

Twisting the fire-engine-red towel around her head, turban style, Ellen walked barefoot across the hallway toward her bedroom to retrieve her blouse. Halfway there, she heard the faint ding of the oven timer, signalling that her apple pie was ready to come out.

She altered her course and bounded down the wide stairway. Her classes that day had gone exceptionally well. She couldn’t remember ever being happier, even though she still missed Yakima, the small apple-growing community in central Washington, where she’d been raised. But she was adjusting well to life in the big city. She’d waited impatiently for the right time—and enough money—to complete her education, and she’d been gratified by the way everything had fallen into place during the past summer. Her older sister had married, and her “baby” brother had entered the military. For a while, Ellen was worried that her widowed mother might suffer from empty nest syndrome, so she’d decided to delay her education another year. But her worries had been groundless, as it turned out. James Simonson, a widower friend of her mother’s, had started dropping by the house often enough for Ellen to recognize a romance brewing between them. The time had finally come for Ellen to make the break, and she did it without guilt or self-reproach.

Clutching a pot holder in one hand, she opened the oven door and lifted out the steaming pie. The fragrance of spicy apples spread through the kitchen, mingling with the savory aroma of the stew that simmered on top of the stove. Carefully, Ellen set the pie on a wire rack. Her housemates appreciated her culinary efforts and she enjoyed doing little things to please them. As the oldest, Ellen fit easily into this household of young men; in fact, she felt that the arrangement was ideal. In exchange for cooking, a little mothering on the side and a share of the cleaning, Ellen paid only a nominal rent.

The unexpected sound of the back door opening made her swivel around.

“What’s going on?” Standing in the doorway was a man with the most piercing green eyes Ellen had ever seen. She noticed immediately that the rest of his features were strongly defined and perfectly balanced. His cheekbones were high and wide, yet his face was lean and appealing. He frowned, and his mouth twisted in an unspoken question.

In one clenched hand he held a small leather suitcase, which he slowly lowered to the kitchen floor. “Who are you?” He spoke sharply, but it wasn’t anger or disdain that edged his voice; it was genuine bewilderment.

Ellen was too shocked to move. When she’d whirled around, the towel had slipped from her head and covered one eye, blocking her vision. But even a one-eyed view of this stranger was enough to intimidate her. She had to admit that his impeccable business suit didn’t look very threatening—but then she glanced at his glowering face again.

With as much poise as possible, she raised a hand to straighten the turban and realized that she was standing in the kitchen wearing washed-out jeans and a white bra. Grabbing the towel from her head, she clasped it to her chest for protection. “Who are you?” she snapped back.

She must have made a laughable sight, holding a red bath towel in front of her like a matador before a charging bull. This man reminded her of a bull. He was tall, muscular and solidly built. And she somehow knew that when he moved, it would be with effortless power and sudden speed. Not exactly the type of man she’d want to meet in a dark alley. Or a deserted house, for that matter. Already Ellen could see the headlines: Small-Town Girl Assaulted in Capitol Hill Kitchen.

“What are you doing here?” she asked in her sternest voice.

“This is my home!” The words vibrated against the walls like claps of thunder.

“Your home?” Ellen choked out. “But... I live here.”

“Not anymore, you don’t.”

“Who are you?” she demanded a second time.

“Reed Morgan.”

Ellen relaxed. “Derek’s brother?”

“Half-brother.”

No wonder they didn’t look anything alike. Derek was a lanky, easy-going nineteen-year-old, with dark hair and equally dark eyes. Ellen would certainly never have expected Derek to have a brother—even a half-brother—like this.

“I—I didn’t know you were coming,” she hedged, feeling utterly foolish.

“Apparently.” He cocked one eyebrow ever so slightly as he stared at her bare shoulders. He shoved his bag out of the doorway, then sighed deeply and ran his hands through his hair. Ellen couldn’t help making the irrelevant observation that it was a dark auburn, thick and lustrous with health.

He looked tired and irritable, and he obviously wasn’t in the best frame of mind for any explanation as to why she was running around his kitchen half-naked. “Would you like a cup of coffee?” she offered congenially, hoping to ease the shock of her presence.

“What I’d like is for you to put some clothes on.”

“Yes, of course.” Forcing a smile, Ellen turned abruptly and left the kitchen, feeling humiliated that she could stand there discussing coffee with a stranger when she was practically naked. Running up the stairs, she entered her room and removed her shirt from the end of the bed. Her fingers were trembling as she fastened the buttons.

Her thoughts spun in confusion. If this house was indeed Reed Morgan’s, then he had every right to ask her to leave. She sincerely hoped he’d made some mistake. Or that she’d misunderstood. It would be difficult to find another place to share this far into the school term. And her meager savings would be quickly wiped out if she had to live somewhere on her own. Ellen’s brow wrinkled with worry as she dragged a brush through her short, bouncy curls, still slightly damp. Being forced to move wouldn’t be a tragedy, but definitely a problem, and she was understandably apprehensive. The role of housemother came naturally to Ellen. The boys could hardly boil water without her. She’d only recently broken them in to using the vacuum cleaner and the washing machine without her assistance.

When she returned to the kitchen, she found Reed leaning against the counter, holding a mug of coffee.

“How long has this cozy set-up with you and Derek been going on?”

“About two months now,” she answered, pouring herself a cup of coffee. Although she rarely drank it she felt she needed something to occupy her hands. “But it’s not what you’re implying. Derek and I are nothing more than friends.”

“I’ll just bet.”

Ellen could deal with almost anything except sarcasm. Gritting her teeth until her jaws ached, she replied in an even, controlled voice. “I’m not going to stand here and argue with you. Derek advertised for a housemate and I answered the ad. I came to live here with him and the others and—”

“The others?” Reed choked on his mouthful of coffee. “You mean there’s more of you around?”

Expelling her breath slowly, Ellen met his scowl. “There’s Derek, Pat and—”

“Is Pat male or female?” The sheer strength of his personality seemed to fill the kitchen. But Ellen refused to be intimidated.

“Pat is a male friend who attends classes at the university with Derek and me.”

“So you’re all students?”

“Yes.”

“All freshmen?”

“Yes.”

He eyed her curiously. “Aren’t you a bit old for that?”

“I’m twenty-five.” She wasn’t about to explain her circumstances to this man.

The sound of the front door opening and closing drew their attention to the opposite end of the house. Carrying an armload of books, Derek Morgan sauntered into the kitchen and stopped cold when he caught sight of his older brother.

“Hi, Reed.” Uncertain eyes flew to Ellen as if seeking reassurance. A worried look pinched the boyishly handsome face. Slowly, he placed his books on the counter.

“Derek.”

“I see you’ve met Ellen.” Derek’s welcoming smile was decidedly forced.

“We more or less stumbled into each other.” Derek’s stiff shoulders relaxed as Reed straightened and set the mug aside.

“I didn’t expect you back so soon.”

Momentarily, Reed’s gaze slid to Ellen. “That much is obvious. Do you want to tell me what’s going on here, little brother?”

“It’s not as bad is it looks.”

“Right now it doesn’t look particularly good.”

“I can explain everything.”

“I hope so.”

Nervously swinging her arms, Ellen stepped forward. “If you two will excuse me, I’ll be up in my room.” The last thing she wanted was to find herself stuck between the two brothers while they settled their differences.

“No, don’t go,” Derek said quickly. His dark eyes pleaded with her to stay.

Almost involuntarily Ellen glanced at Reed for guidance.

“By all means, stay.” But his expression wasn’t encouraging.

A growing sense of resentment made her arch her back and thrust out her chin defiantly. Who was this...this man to burst into their tranquil lives and raise havoc? The four of them lived congenially together, all doing their parts in the smooth running of the household.

“Are you charging rent?” Reed asked.

Briefly Derek’s eyes met Ellen’s. “It makes sense, doesn’t it? This big old house has practically as many bedrooms as a dorm. I didn’t think it would hurt.” He swallowed. “I mean, with you being in the Middle East and all. The house was...so empty.”

“How much are you paying?” Reed directed the question at Ellen. That sarcastic look was back and Ellen hesitated.

“How much?” Reed repeated.

Ellen knew from the way Derek’s eyes widened that they were entering into dangerous territory.

“It’s different with Ellen,” Derek hurried to explain. “She does all the shopping and the cooking, so the rest of us—”

“Are you sure that’s all she provides?” Reed interrupted harshly.

Ellen’s gaze didn’t waver. “I pay thirty dollars a week, but believe me, I earn my keep.” The second the words slipped out, Ellen wanted to take them back.

“I’m sure you do.”

Ellen was too furious and outraged to speak. How dared he barge into this house and immediately assume the worst? All right, she’d been walking around half-naked, but she hadn’t exactly been expecting company.

Angrily Derek stepped forward. “It’s not like that, Reed.”

“I discovered her prancing around the kitchen in her bra. What else am I supposed to think?”

Derek groaned and cast an accusing look at Ellen. “I just ran down to get the pie out of the oven,” she said in her own defence.

“Let me assure you,” Derek said, his voice quavering with righteousness. “You’ve got this all wrong.” He glared indignantly at his older brother. “Ellen isn’t that kind of woman. I resent the implication. You owe us both an apology.”

From the stunned look on Reed’s face, Ellen surmised that this could well be the first time Derek had stood up to his domineering brother. Her impulse was to clap her hands and shout: “Attaboy!” With immense effort she restrained herself.

Reed wiped a hand over his face and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Perhaps I do.”

The front door opened and closed again. “Anyone here?” Monte’s eager voice rang from the living room. The slam of his books hitting the stairs echoed through the hallway that led to the kitchen. “Something smells good.” Skidding to an abrupt halt just inside the room, the tall student looked around at the somber faces. “What’s up? You three look like you’re about to attend a funeral.”

“Are you Pat?” Reed asked.

“No, Monte.”

Reed closed his eyes and wearily rubbed the back of his neck. “Just how many bedrooms have you rented out?”

Derek lowered his gaze to his hands. “Three.”

“My room?” Reed asked.

“Yes, well, Ellen needed a place and it seemed logical to give her that one. You were supposed to be gone for a year. What happened?”

“I came home early.”

Stepping forward, her fingers nervously laced together, Ellen broke into the tense interchange. “I’ll move up a floor. I don’t mind.” No one was using the third floor of the house, which had at one time been reserved for the servants. The rooms were small and airless, but sleeping there was preferable to suffering the wrath of Derek’s brother. Or worse, having to find somewhere else to live.

Reed responded with a dismissive gesture of his hand. “Don’t worry about it. Until things are straightened out, I’ll sleep up there. Once I’ve taken a long, hot shower and gotten some rest I might be able to make sense out of this mess.”

“No, please,” Ellen persisted. “If I’m in your room, then I should move.”

“No,” Reed grumbled on his way out the door, waving aside her offer. “It’s only my house. I’ll sleep in the servants’ quarters.”

Before Ellen could argue further, Reed was out of the kitchen and halfway up the stairs.

“Is there a problem?” Monte asked, opening the refrigerator. He didn’t seem very concerned, but then he rarely worried about anything unless it directly affected his stomach. Ellen didn’t know how any one person could eat so much. He never seemed to gain weight, but if it were up to him he’d feed himself exclusively on pizza and french fries.

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” Ellen pressed Derek, feeling guilty but not quite knowing why. “I assumed your family owned the house.”

“Well...sort of.” He sank slowly into one of the kitchen chairs.

“It’s the sort of that worries me.” She pulled out the chair across from Derek and looked at him sternly.

“Reed is family.”

“But he didn’t know you were renting out the bedrooms?”

“He told me this job would last nine months to a year. I couldn’t see any harm in it. Everywhere I looked there were ads for students wanting rooms to rent. It didn’t seem right to live alone in this house with all these bedrooms.”

“Maybe I should try to find someplace else to live,” Ellen said reluctantly. The more she thought about it, the harder it was to see any other solution now that Reed had returned.

“Not before dinner,” Monte protested, bringing a loaf of bread and assorted sandwich makings to the table.

“There’s no need for anyone to leave,” Derek said with defiant bravado. “Reed will probably only be around for a couple of weeks before he goes away on another assignment.”

“Assignment?” Ellen asked, her curiosity piqued.

“Yeah. He travels all over the place—we hardly ever see him. And from what I hear, I don’t think Danielle likes him being gone so much, either.”

“Danielle?”

“They’ve been practically engaged for ages and... I don’t know the whole story, but apparently Reed’s put off tying the knot because he does so much traveling.”

“Danielle must really love him if she’s willing to wait.” Ellen watched as Monte spread several layers of smoked ham over the inch-thick slice of Swiss cheese. She knew better than to warn her housemate that he’d ruin his dinner. After his triple-decker sandwich, Monte could sit down to a five-course meal—and then ask about dessert.

“I guess,” Derek answered nonchalantly. “Reed’s perfect for her. You’d have to meet Danielle to understand.” Reaching into the teddy-bear-shaped cookie jar and helping himself to a handful, Derek continued. “Reed didn’t mean to snap at everyone. Usually, he’s a great brother. And Danielle’s all right,” he added without enthusiasm.

“It takes a special kind of woman to stick by a man that long without a commitment.”

Derek shrugged. “I suppose. Danielle’s got her own reasons, if you know what I mean.”

Ellen didn’t, but she let it go. “What does Reed do?”

“He’s an aeronautical engineer for Boeing. He travels around the world working on different projects. This last one was somewhere in Saudi Arabia.”

“What about the house?”

“Well, that’s his, an inheritance from his mother’s family, but he’s gone so much of the time that he asked me if I’d live here and look after the place.”

“What about us?” Monte asked. “Will big brother want us to move out?”

“I don’t think so. Tomorrow morning I’ll ask him. I can’t see me all alone in this huge old place. It’s not like I’m trying to make a fortune by collecting a lot of rent.”

“If Reed wants us to leave, I’m sure something can be arranged.” Already Ellen was considering different options. She didn’t want her fate to be determined by a whim of Derek’s brother.

“Let’s not do anything drastic. I doubt he’ll mind once he has a chance to think it through,” Derek murmured with a thoughtful frown. “At least, I hope he won’t.”

Later that night as Ellen slipped between the crisply laundered sheets, she wondered about the man whose bed she occupied. Tucking the thick quilt around her shoulders, she fought back a wave of anxiety. Everything had worked out so perfectly that she should’ve expected something to go wrong. If anyone voiced objections to her being in Reed’s house, it would probably be his almost-fiancée. Ellen sighed apprehensively. She had to admit that if the positions were reversed, she wouldn’t want the man she loved sharing his house with another woman. Tomorrow she’d check around to see if she could find a new place to live.

* * *

ELLEN WAS SCRAMBLING EGGS the next morning when Reed appeared, coming down the narrow stairs that led from the third floor to the kitchen. He’d shaved, which emphasized the chiseled look of his jaw. His handsome face was weathered and everything about him spoke of health and vitality. Ellen paused, her fork suspended with raw egg dripping from the tines. She wouldn’t call Reed Morgan handsome so much as striking. He had an unmistakable masculine appeal. Apparently the duties of an aeronautical engineer were more physically demanding than she’d suspected. Strength showed in the wide muscular shoulders and lean, hard build. He looked even more formidable this morning.

“Good morning,” she greeted him cheerfully, as she continued to beat the eggs. “I hope you slept well.”

Reed poured coffee into the same mug he’d used the day before. A creature of habit, Ellen mused. “Morning,” he responded somewhat gruffly.

“Can I fix you some eggs?”

“Derek and I have already talked. You can all stay.”

“Is that a yes or a no to the eggs?”

“I’m trying to tell you that you don’t need to worry about impressing me with your cooking.”

With a grunt of impatience, Ellen set the bowl aside and leaned forward, slapping her open palms on the countertop. “I’m scrambling eggs here. Whether you want some or not is entirely up to you. Believe me, if I was concerned about impressing you, I wouldn’t do it with eggs.”

For the first time, Ellen saw a hint of amusement touch those brilliant green eyes. “No, I don’t suppose you would.”

“Now that we’ve got that settled, would you like breakfast or not?”

“All right.”

His eyes boldly searched hers and for an instant Ellen found herself regretting that there was a Danielle. With an effort, she turned away and brought her concentration back to preparing breakfast.

“Do you do all the cooking?” Just the way he asked made it sound as though he was already criticizing their household arrangements. Ellen bit back a sarcastic reply and busied herself melting butter and putting bread in the toaster. She’d bide her time. If Derek was right, his brother would soon be away on another assignment.

“Most of it,” Ellen answered, pouring the eggs into the hot skillet.

“Who pays for the groceries?”

Ellen shrugged, hoping to give the appearance of nonchalance. “We all chip in.” She did the shopping and most of the cooking. In return, the boys did their share of the housework—now that she’d taught them how.

The bread popped up from the toaster and Ellen reached for the butter knife, doing her best to ignore the overpowering presence of Reed Morgan.

“What about the shopping?”

“I enjoy it,” she said simply, putting two more slices of bread in the toaster.

“I thought women all over America were fighting to get out of the kitchen.”

“When a replacement is found, I’ll be happy to step aside.” She wasn’t comfortable with the direction this conversation seemed to be taking. Reed was looking at her as though she was some kind of 1950s throwback.

Ellen liked to cook and as it turned out, the boys needed someone who knew her way around a kitchen, and she needed an inexpensive place to live. Everything had worked out perfectly....

She spooned the cooked eggs onto one plate and piled the toast on another, then carried it to the table, which gave her enough time to control her indignation. She was temporarily playing the role of surrogate mother to a bunch of college-age boys. All right, maybe that made her a little unusual these days, but she enjoyed living with Derek and the others. It helped her feel at home, and for now she needed that.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” Reed stopped her on her way out of the kitchen.

“I’ll have something later. The only time I can count on the bathroom being free in the mornings is when the boys are having breakfast. That is, unless you were planning to use it?”

Reed’s eyes narrowed fractionally. “No.”

“What’s the matter? You’ve got that look on your face again.”

“What look?”

“The one where you pinch your lips together as if you aren’t pleased about something and you’re wondering just how much you should say.”

His tight expression relaxed into a slow, sensual grin. “Do you always read people this well?”

Ellen shook her head. “Not always. I just want to know what I’ve done this time.”

“Aren’t you concerned about living with three men?”

“No. Should I be?” She crossed her arms and leaned against the doorjamb, almost enjoying their conversation. The earlier antagonism had disappeared. She’d agree that her living arrangements were a bit unconventional, but they suited her. The situation was advantageous for her and the boys.

“Any one of them could fall in love with you.”

With difficulty, Ellen restrained her laughter. “That’s unlikely. They see me as their mother.”

The corners of his mouth formed deep grooves as he tried—and failed—to suppress a grin. Raising one brow, he did a thorough inspection of her curves.

Hot color flooded her pale cheeks. “All right—a sister. I’m too old for them.”

Monte sauntered into the kitchen, followed closely by Pat who muttered, “I thought I smelled breakfast.”

“I was just about to call you,” she told them and hurried from the room, wanting to avoid a head-on collision with Reed. And that was where this conversation was going.

Fifteen minutes later, Ellen returned to the kitchen. She was dressed in cords and an Irish cable-knit sweater; soft dark curls framed her small oval face. Ellen had no illusions about her looks. Men on the street weren’t going to stop and stare, but she knew she was reasonably attractive. With her short, dark hair and deep brown eyes, she considered herself average. Ordinary. Far too ordinary for a man like Reed Morgan. One look at Ellen, and Danielle would feel completely reassured. Angry at the self-pitying thought, she grabbed a pen and tore out a sheet of notebook paper.

Intent on making the shopping list, Ellen was halfway into the kitchen before she noticed Reed standing at the sink, wiping the frying pan dry. The table had been cleared and the dishes were stacked on the counter, ready for the dishwasher.

“Oh,” she said, a little startled. “I would’ve done that.”

“While I’m here, I’ll do my share.” He said it without looking at her, his eyes avoiding hers.

“But this is your home. I certainly don’t mind—”

“I wouldn’t be comfortable otherwise. Haven’t you got a class this morning?” He sounded anxious to be rid of her.

“Not until eleven.”

“What’s your major?” He’d turned around, leaning against the sink and crossing his arms. He was the picture of nonchalance, but Ellen wasn’t fooled. She knew very well that he wasn’t pleased about her living in his home, and she felt he’d given his permission reluctantly. She suspected he was even looking for ways to dislike her. Ellen understood that. Reed was bound to face some awkward questions once Danielle discovered there was a woman living in his house. Especially a woman who slept in his bed and took charge of his kitchen. But that would change this afternoon—at least the sleeping in his bed part.

“I’m majoring in education.”

“That’s the mother in you coming out again.”

Ellen hadn’t thought of it that way. Reed simply felt more comfortable seeing her in that light—as a maternal, even matronly figure—she decided. She’d let him, if it meant he’d be willing to accept her arrangement with Derek and the others.

“I suppose you’re right,” she murmured as she began opening and closing cupboard doors, checking the contents on each shelf, and scribbling down several items she’d need the following week.

“What are you doing now?”

Mentally, Ellen counted to ten before answering. She resented his overbearing tone, and despite her earlier resolve to humor him, she snapped, “I’m making a grocery list. Do you have a problem with that?”

“No,” he answered gruffly.

“I’ll be out of here in just a minute,” she said, trying hard to maintain her patience.

“You aren’t in my way.”

“And while we’re on the subject of being in someone’s way, I want you to know I plan to move my things out of your room this afternoon.”

“Don’t. I won’t be here long enough to make it worth your while.”