by Joan Hohl
This book made available by the Internet Archive.
Dear Reader,
I'm back!
I'm writing to you once again with my most sincere wishes that you enjoy this reissue of Come Home to Love, one of my favorite stories. I also must admit I was thrilled when I received the news from my wonderful editor, Melissa Jeglinski, that Harlequin/Silhouette wanted to buy the publishing rights to the book for the Signature Select program.
Now I can't tell you how often I've been asked, "Where do you get your ideas?" In all truth, I honestly haven't a clue. I've been going along, doing whatever, when out of the blue it seems, these characters will suddenly fill my imagination, fully formed, personalities intact. I must confess when this occurs it's both exciting and more than a little daunting. Fortunately, after all the years I've been writing, all the characters that have strolled into my mind, demanding a story of their own, usually when I'm smack-dab in the middle of a work in progress, I've grown used to the interruptions.
This book you now hold in your hands—hopefully to buy!— was one of my earlier works. Since then, I've grown used to new characters—knocking at my imagination. I simply tell them to pick a number and get in line, like all the previous characters waiting for me to finish the current story, and get on to theirs.
And so it was that the main characters, Matthew and Katherine, who you will meet in this book, related their story to me.
I hope you will enjoy reading Matt and Katherine's story as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Happy reading,
Joan Hohl
This book is dedicated to:
Mary, Lori and Amy; Sonny and Jan; Mick and Bill;
Bonnie and Norm; and Marie—who always believed.
the opening and he gave a swift, sharp glance into the rearview mirror. Then the window slid back into place. Gently easing an expensively shod foot from the gas pedal he drove the car off the highway across the gravelly shoulders onto the wet spongy grass that bordered the gravel.
A line of trees stood sentinel a few feet back from the edge of the grass, their branches, hanging heavy and sodden, almost touching the ground, giving a tunnel effect. Matt brought the Lincoln to a stop inside this tunnel. The drooping branches formed a screen, not only from the force of the wind and rain, but also the light traffic on the highway.
Katherine watched him quietly, a tingle of excitement beginning to rise, as he switched off the ignition and pulled the hand brake.
He nudged her shoulder with his and said softly, "Move over." She obeyed at once, sliding along the seat until she was almost touching the opposite door. Matt followed, and as soon as his large frame was free of the confining steering wheel, turned and pulled her into his arms.
She was ready for him, face lifted, lips slightly parted. He lowered his head and covered her mouth with his own.
Her hands went to his shoulders and felt the muscles go taut at her touch and sighing softly she curled her arms around his neck, her body going soft against his hard one. His arms loosened; then his hands gripped her shoulders and turning her, his body pressed hers back against the seat. It was like being engulfed, the sheer size of him overwhelming. Oh Lord, Katherine thought, I want him. And then realized with surprise that she had wanted him, almost continually, for the last forty-eight hours.
His kiss was long, deep and she gave herself completely to it. She forgot where she was, everything. All she wanted to know was this man's arms, his mouth, his hands, one of which now moved slowly from her shoulders to cup and caress her face.
Moaning softly, she arched her back, pressing her body against his and he pulled his mouth from hers. "Damn." He shifted uncomfortably, trying to draw her closer to him and muttered, "I'm too big and too old to make love to my woman in a car, no matter how roomy it is." Then his lips closed to her ear, he whispered, "You're something of a witch, Kate, you know that?"
There was laughter in the reply. "Of course, I've put the Hex on you and you're completely in my power."
"Lo, these many moons," was his strange answer, and she drew back her head to look at him questioningly. But he shook his head, and changing the subject said, "We're never going to reach home at this rate." Disentangling himself he slid back under the wheel and added, "Now stay on your own side of the seat and behave yourself."
"Behave myself!" Katherine cried. "I didn't do anything but say your name."
"Well, don't say it anymore, and don't look at me like that either, unless you want to find yourself in the first motel room we happen to come to."
"Yes, sir," she replied demurely.
Flashing her a quick grin, Matt drove the car back onto the highway.
Katherine settled back into the soft leather seat. Head resting against the back, she studied Matt through partially closed lids.
He certainly did fill the space behind the steering wheel. There was only one word to describe him, she
thought, big. All six feet, five and a half inches of him. From his broad powerful shoulders and back, to his long muscular arms and legs. And she knew there was not one ounce of excess flesh on the whole of his frame. His well-shaped head supported a full, thick growth of unruly dark auburn waves that no amount of brushing could tame. His face was robbed of being handsome by the almost harshly defined features. The straight nose, high cheek bones and firm thrusting jawline were covered with still firm, taut skin, deeply tanned from last summer's sun. Full dark brows arched slightly over the most riveting blue-gray eyes Katherine had ever seen.
Forty-three years had gone into the making of Matthew Martin. Forty-three years of working, fighting, sweating his way to the top. And he'd made it with a vengeance, by being smarter, faster and gutsier than most. He was hated by some, loved by some and feared by almost everyone, Katherine included. "Knock it off." The deep rough voice had the sting removed by its soft tone.
Katherine smiled and shifted her gaze to the windshield, watching, as if mesmerized, the wipers fight their valiant battle against the rain. cn
In a daze or kind of dream, Katherine watched as a picture swirled, then formed, of him twenty-five years before. O
Tall, slim to the point of skinny, seemingly all gangly ^ arms and legs that never seemed to fit his clothes because of the rate of speed of his growth. Big hands ^ and feet forever sticking out incongruously. Auburn hair gg clipped short in the current crew cut vogue. Hardly the imposing figure of today.
Eyes closed now, Matt thought her asleep, as in her mind Katherine slipped back through the years to when
CO
she was a sophomore and he a senior in that Lancaster high school.
It was late winter and she was sitting in the stands at a basketball game. Matt was, without question, the star player of the team. For although he looked awkward and disjointed, when he played he was all smooth, swift, deliberate movement. Katherine had watched him play and had never seen him, for she had eyes for only one.
Time moved forward and she was at a baseball field. Matt was on the mound, arms raised high above his head as his long leg shot out in that strange wind-up of his, and then the ball went rifling through the air, across the plate, and the umpire's voice rang. "Out." Katherine had cheered and screamed along with everyone else, but she hadn't seen him, for she had eyes for only one.
Every high school in the States has at least one young man, usually a senior, who is the ideal all-American boy. Kevin Acker was theirs. And Kevin Acker belonged to Katherine. And Katherine had eyes only for him.
Kevin was the all-American boy. Tall, with a body like the Greek statue that adorned the high school foyer, short, fair, curly hair and a face handsome to the point of beaut
iful. Along with his high scholastic record he was a fine athlete, charming and well liked. The heartthrob of every girl in the school.
Katherine had been fifteen the previous fall, her first year of high school, and Kevin had tried to date her within the first week of school's opening. When she told him she was not allowed to date until her sixteenth birthday, which would occur the following spring, Kevin bided his time making do with phone calls and quick conversations after school before she had to board the bus for home.
Near the end of that winter he had been allowed to come to her home to meet her parents and younger twin brothers, David and Daniel. Her parents liked him for he was pleasant and well mannered, and Dave and Dan developed a very bad case of hero worship.
Katherine had moved through the following weeks with growing impatience, thinking that May twenty-first would never come. Her sixteenth birthday! Finally it came and Kevin came with it, handing her a bulging birthday card. Her fingers shook as she opened the envelope to find inside a slim square box which held a fine gold neck chain. Lifting her head, her eyes puzzled, she saw Kevin slide his class-ring from his finger; then taking the chain from her fingers he slipped the ring onto it, held it up and said softly: "Will you be my girl, Katherine?" Stunned, unable to answer, she had nodded her head and stood perfectly still while he fastened the chain around her neck. Then he lowered his head and kissed her softly on the lips. Lifting his mouth a mere half inch from hers he then whispered, "And you'll come with me to the prom." It was not a question, but a statement and Katherine had breathed, "Yes! Oh yes."
The next day as she was walking from the school, talking excitedly about the upcoming prom with a group of girlfriends, she heard her name called and turned, eyes widening, to see Matthew Martin loping up to her.
Her friends had kept walking but stopped to wait for her a few feet away, then she heard them grow quiet when they saw who had called to her. And she wondered why.
He came to an abrupt stop in front of her and said in a rush, "Katherine, would you be my date for the prom?" She had been too surprised to answer for a second, he had never seemed to notice her before. Then
she'd replied, "I'm sorry, Matthew, but I'm going to the prom with Kevin Acker." His face had gone oddly still before he startled her even more by saying, "Well then, may I call you for a date sometime?" And she stammered, "I, no, I'm going steady with Kevin." She felt a flash of irritation at the giggles behind her as the color mounted up his throat and across his cheeks. But he seemed not to even notice her friends. "I see." He started to turn away.
Impulsively, she reached out her hand and touched his arm and as he turned his head to look at her, something, what? had flickered across his face. For the first time she noticed his startling eyes, shuttered now, lids partially lowered as they stared directly into hers and her voice was a bare whisper. "Thank you for asking me anyway, Matthew."
"Yeah, sure," was his brusque reply as he turned sharply and strode toward his friend waiting a few yards away.
Bemused, wondering at the achy tightness in her throat, she watched him a moment, then shrugging lightly turned to her friends.
"I don't think I've ever heard of him asking a girl for a date." This from Maryann Kline, Katherine's best friend. Cute, petite Brenda Dodge chimed in, "I've never even heard of him telephoning a girl."
"He doesn't have the time for girls so I've been told!" The amused, throaty voice came from the girl standing next to Katherine and all eyes turned to her. Marsha Drake was the only senior in the group. Of average height, she had a full, rich, woman's body and a sophistication far beyond her years. "Who told you that?" piped Brenda, seeming to squirm all over with eager-
ness. "You know I've been dating Mark Hunter," Marsha answered dryly. "He told me."
As if pulled by a single cord all heads swivelled around to the retreating backs of Matthew Martin and his friend Mark Hunter.
"An odd pair" observed Maryann, "Mark barely reaches Matthew's shoulders."
"Big deal," snorted Brenda, "hardly anyone stands up past Matthew's shoulders. But you're right about them being an odd pair. Who would have thought Mark and Matthew would become friends?"
The girls joined the crush of other students boarding the buses and Katherine found herself sharing a seat with Marsha. A frown creasing her smooth white brow she turned to the other girl. "I don't understand. Why is it odd that Mark and Matthew should be friends?"
The youngest one of the group and only a sophomore, Katherine had been too involved with her school work and thoughts of Kevin all year to learn much of the senior class.
Marsha regarded her with gentle amusement. Yes, she could see what had attracted Kevin, Matthew too, for that matter. They were both bright boys who saw beneath the surface of things and people.
Right now, at sixteen, thin and a few inches taller than the rest of their group, she could only be described as young-girl-pretty. Short black hair with an abundance of soft loose curls framed her thin delicately boned face. A short straight nose and chin natural filling out would save from being pointed. Well-formed lips with the briefest touch of fullness, giving a hint of future passion. But what caught the eye was her hair, and black wing
brows that arched over deep violet-blue eyes, fringed with thick sooty lashes, startling against her fair skin.
Marsha sighed softly. With a few years and some maturity the description of Katherine would be tall, willowy and striking. Yes, she could see what had attracted both Matt and Kevin.
She voiced her thoughts aloud and watched, smiling broadly, at the flash of pink that tinged Katherine's face. Then, waving one hand languidly added, "Enough of that, sit back, infant, and I'll answer your question. First off, Mark and Matt do have a few things in common. They are both intelligent, and I mean really intelligent. Mark told me last night he'll finish fourth in the class, Matt'll finish sixth. That's no mean trick in a graduating class of several hundred. They share a singleness of purpose. Mark will tell you he's going to be a doctor. Not, he wants to be a doctor, but, he's going to be a doctor. Matt's going into business." At the slight rise of Katherine's eyebrows Marsha shrugged, "I don't know what kind of business, I don't know if Matt knows. But you can believe that when he decides there will be no stopping him."
Marsha paused for breath, then added, "They're both quiet. Too damn quiet sometimes, I think, and both serious. There the likeness ends."
She lifted an eyebrow at Katherine and asked, "Did you know Mark's parents are well off?" And at Katherine's quick head shake went on. "Well, they are. In fact they're loaded. And don't look at me that way. Although I have nothing against money, that's not the reason I'm dating him. You must admit he's really good looking and to tell you the truth I'm completely crazy about the guy."
She smiled shyly at Katherine who had quickly agreed that Mark was indeed very good looking.
"As far as finances go Mark's got it made. With Matt it's a different story. Although his folks can't be called poor, there is definitely a struggle most times. You see, Matt's dad owns a small farm and although they have never been able to live high off the hog, they were making it. Then last year Matt's dad had a slight stroke and the burden of the work fell on Matt. He has a brother and sister, but Beth is only eight and Jim ten and too young to be much help. Till last fall, his father had improved enough to do some of the chores but I guess by then money was pretty tight and Matt took a job as part-time hired hand on a big farm farther out in the country. It's been rough for him, but it'll probably get a lot rougher. Matt's determined to go to a liberal arts college in Reading and although he's taken a scholarship he is going to have to work like a slave to earn the money it will take to get his degree."
Marsha looked away from Katherine, then with a yelp jumped to her feet. "Good grief! I've been running off at the mouth and nearly missed my stop. I hope I've answered your questions."
"And then some," Katherine laughed. "Thank you, Marsh, see you tomorrow."
For a short time afterwar
d Katherine hadn't been able to get the thought of Matthew out of her mind. Wondering at the mild sense of uneasiness it caused her. But she was young and in the bloom of first love with a summer in front of her that promised to be exciting. And the incident faded quickly.
The reality of the summer bore out the promise, beginning with the prom and graduating exercises, when Katherine met Kevin's parents. Katherine was sure the Pennsylvania Dutch countryside had never looked
more glorious with its rolling hills of patchwork planted crops that would have to be, come fall, one of the best harvests ever.
Katherine and Kevin joined a group of young couples for swim parties, Saturday night dances, afternoon picnics and evening doggie roasts, where they sat in a circle around an open fire, holding hands and singing old songs.
That summer had wings on its heels, and by the time the big orange balloon of the harvest moon rose regally in the heat-hazy black sky, ^Catherine's mind had lost the picture of a tall, too-thin gangly boy named Matthew.
again glancing quickly at Matt, felt her throat close. His face had tautened, his lips formed a straight, grim line.
It wasn't her imagination. The relaxed easy atmosphere of before seemed suddenly to hum like high tension wires.
Katherine sat up straight, fingers going to her hair to try and bring some order to the riot of curls. Glancing around with dull, listless eyes she thought, it's beautiful, there's no denying that. The smooth manicured lawns, the perfectly clipped shrubs, the tenderly cared for flower beds surrounded by lacy mimosa, silvery green olive and wine-red maple trees set off to perfection the house they were stopping in front of.
Colonial style, in warm red brick with white trim shutters and a huge front door, the house was not quite large enough to be called a mansion. And even now, in the gray mist of a late September afternoon, it stood out like a gem. A beautiful prison, Katherine thought dejectedly.