A Question Of Love. Elizabeth Sinclair

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A Question Of Love - Elizabeth Sinclair Mills & Boon American Romance

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Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

       Chapter Thirteen

       Chapter Fourteen

       Chapter Fifteen

       Chapter Sixteen

       Chapter Seventeen

      Chapter One

      Honey Logan dropped like a rock onto the Victorian settee and stared in horror at her mother-in-law. From the placid expression on Amanda Logan’s aged, but still lovely face, she seemed to have no idea that she’d just announced the impending end of Honey’s world.

      “Now, dear,” Amanda said, tapping Honey’s hand lightly with the tips of her well-manicured nails, “this shouldn’t take too long. A few weeks at the very most.”

      “A few weeks?” Amanda might as well have been suggesting a few centuries. Honey tried, without too much success, to erase the desperation from her voice. “Isn’t there anywhere else he can go?”

      “I was so hoping that you would agree to this.” Amanda leaned back in her wheelchair and sighed. “I’m afraid there is nowhere else. His house hasn’t been lived in for over two years, and it needs cleaning and fixing.” She smiled at Honey. “He is my nephew, dear. Family. I couldn’t very well turn him away, now, could I?”

      Yes, you could have, Honey wanted to yell. You could have told him to get a motel room in the next town, the next state, another country, anywhere but here.

      Regretfully, she knew she couldn’t make that kind of demand. No matter how much she loved Amanda and Amanda loved her, her mother-in-law owned the house. Honey resided there purely as a guest. Despite her efforts to make Honey think of it as her home, she lived here at her mother-in-law’s pleasure, as her home-care nurse. As such, Honey felt she had no more say in what went on here than the gardener or the housekeeper. Her mother-in-law’s innate consideration for everyone in the house was the only reason they were even having this conversation.

      “Of course you couldn’t,” Honey finally managed to murmur.

      “I knew you’d see the sense of this.” Amanda squeezed Honey’s hand reassuringly. “It’ll work out for the best. You’ll see.” Heaving a tired sigh, she settled back in her wheelchair. The light from the Tiffany chandelier overhead played in the facets of the diamond rings adorning two of her fingers. “I’m exhausted. I think I’ll go to bed early. I hate to bother her at this late hour, but would you mind finding Tess and asking her to get the spare room ready? I’m afraid Matt will be here first thing tomorrow morning.”

      Seeing that the conversation had overtaxed Amanda, Honey didn’t try to prolong it. Besides, she couldn’t come up with an argument that wouldn’t sound frantic and interfering. “Would you like some help getting back to your room?”

      The older woman shook her head, then raised her chin in a way Honey knew indicated pure stubbornness. “No. I’ll manage on my own.” The curve of her lips and the love in her eyes softened the crisp words.

      Smiling inwardly at her mother-in-law’s refusal to give in to the infirmities of old age, Honey nodded. She had a tendency to be overprotective of those she loved, but Amanda always found a way to gently remind Honey that she wasn’t quite ready for a nursing home.

      Honey followed the electric wheelchair into the hall. The soft hum of the motor grated on her frazzled nerves. She saw Amanda safely seated in the chairlift that would carry her to the second floor, then stowed the wheelchair in a nook beneath the stairs. After making sure Amanda reached the top safely, where her walker waited. Honey headed down the hall in search of Tess, Amanda’s long-time friend and housekeeper, to tell her of the arrival of their visitor tomorrow morning.

      Tomorrow morning.

      A sense of doom washed over Honey. In a few hours the secure life she’d made for herself would crumble around her.

      She’d spent years forgetting the touch of Matt Logan’s lips, the caress of his hands, the way his smile warmed her soul, the afterglow of his tender love-making. But most of all, she’d fought hard to forget the pain she’d endured when he’d left town without a word to her.

      Now, after seven years of silence, he planned to stroll back into her life as if he’d never left. To make matters worse, he’d be staying with them.

      Matt under the same roof with her…and Danny. Oh, glory, she’d forgotten about her son. With concentrated effort, she tamped down the panic that followed on the heels of that thought, and fought for stability. She straightened her spine, forcing courage to the surface, courage she didn’t really feel.

      You’ll deal with it, she told herself. You’ll deal with it just like you dealt with your father and your brother, Jesse.

      But Matt, for all his flaws, had in no way resembled either her domineering father or her silent, brooding brother. Matt had been warm and understanding, and though he hadn’t known it, her emotional bulwark against her father. Matt had been…everything, or so she’d thought.

      Suddenly, she felt like she had when her father had forced her to marry Stan Logan, Amanda’s spoiled son—as if her world had spun out of control, leaving her helpless and vulnerable. And with that vulnerability came dread.

      She stepped into Tess Martin’s domain and found it deserted. Honey’s gaze darted to the kitchen wall phone. Emily. She’d call her sister. After all, not long ago, Emily had had to contend with having a man she’d once cared about walk back into her life. Maybe she’d know what Honey could do. In any case, talking to someone might help her regain her focus, and right now, she desperately needed focus. Focus and a plan.

      Picking up the receiver, she held it to her ear with shaking hands and dialed Emily’s number. Emily’s mother-in-law answered.

      “Rose, I know Emily is probably busy putting the twins to bed, but can you ask her to come over as soon as she’s finished? I need to talk to her. Danny’s father is coming home.”

      Before Rose could answer, Tess came into the kitchen. As if she’d been doing something wrong, Honey abruptly hung up. Bad enough that she felt like a complete fool for allowing the sudden reappearance of Matt Logan to throw her for a loop. She didn’t have to broadcast it to one and all.

      Tess grinned at her. The housekeeper’s apple cheeks dented into deep-set dimples. Honey had always felt apple-cheeked women were a product of children’s literature, until she met Tess. But then, a lot of kid resided in Amanda’s Irish cook.

      “Secret admirer?” Tess asked with the familiarity acquired over the twenty-plus years she’d been with Amanda. The housekeeper had long ago adopted

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