Morning Light by Catherine Anderson




  Praise for the romances of New York Times

  bestselling author Catherine Anderson

  “Anderson comes up with another winner by deftly blending sweetness and sensuality in a poignantly written story.”

  —Booklist

  “Count on Catherine Anderson for intense emotion.”

  —Jayne Ann Krentz

  “Catherine Anderson is an amazing talent.”

  —Elizabeth Lowell

  “Catherine Anderson has a gift for imbuing her characters with dignity, compassion, courage, and strength that inspire readers.”

  —Romantic Times

  “A major voice in the romance genre.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “Not only does author Catherine Anderson push the envelope, she seals, stamps, and sends it to the reader with love.”

  —Affaire de Coeur

  Sun Kissed

  “This smart, wholesome tale should appeal to any fan of traditional romance.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “Vivid descriptions, realistic family relationships (especially the lively sibling banter), and a dash of suspense make this heartwarming, gently sensual romance a satisfying read.”

  —Library Journal

  “Another heartwarming chapter in the Coulter family saga is on tap in the always wonderful Anderson’s newest release…. Anderson is at her best when it comes to telling stories that are deeply emotional and heartfelt.”

  —Romantic Times (4½ stars)

  Summer Breeze

  “Anderson understands the inner workings of the human soul so deeply that she’s able to put intense emotion within a stunning romance in such a way that you’ll believe in miracles. Add to this her beautiful writing style, memorable characters, and a timeless story, and you have an unmatched reading adventure.”

  —Romantic Times BOOKclub (4½ stars)

  “The kind of book that will snare you so completely, you’ll not want to put it down. It engages the intellect and emotions; it’ll make you care. It will also make you smile…a lot. And that’s a guarantee.”

  —Romance Reviews Today

  My Sunshine

  “Another winner from Anderson’s compassionate pen.”

  —Library Journal

  “Sweet and sensual.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “With the author’s signature nurturing warmth and emotional depth, this beautifully written romance is a richly rewarding experience for any reader.”

  —Booklist

  Blue Skies

  “Readers may need to wipe away tears…since few will be able to resist the power of this beautifully emotional, wonderfully romantic love story.”

  —Booklist

  “A keeper and a very strong contender for Best Contemporary Romance of the Year.”

  —Romance Reviews Today

  Bright Eyes

  “Offbeat family members and genuine familial love give a special lift to this marvelous story. An Anderson book is a guaranteed great read!”

  —Romantic Times (4½ Stars, Top Pick)

  Only by Your Touch

  “Ben Longtree is a marvelous hero whose extraordinary gifts bring a unique and special magic to this warmhearted novel. No one can tug your heartstrings better than Catherine Anderson.”

  —Romantic Times (4½ Stars, Top Pick)

  Always in My Heart

  “Emotionally involving, family-centered, and relationship oriented, this story is a rewarding read.”

  —Library Journal

  “[A] superbly written contemporary romance, which features just the kind of emotionally nourishing, comfortably compassionate type of love story this author is known for creating.”

  —Booklist

  Sweet Nothings

  “Pure reading magic.”

  —Booklist

  Phantom Waltz

  “Anderson departs from traditional romantic stereotypes in this poignant, contemporary tale of a love that transcends all boundaries…romantic through and through.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  Coulter Family books by Catherine Anderson

  Phantom Waltz

  Sweet Nothings

  Blue Skies

  Bright Eyes

  My Sunshine

  Summer Breeze

  Sun Kissed

  Other Signet books by Catherine Anderson

  Always in My Heart

  Only by Your Touch

  Catherine Anderson

  Morning Light

  A SIGNET BOOK

  SIGNET

  Published by New American Library, a division of

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street,

  New York, New York 10014, USA

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.) Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England Penguin Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.) Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.) Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi-110 017, India Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0632, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.) Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa

  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices:

  80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  First published by Signet, an imprint of New American Library,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  Copyright © Adeline Catherine Anderson, 2008

  All rights reserved

  ISBN: 978-1-1012-1140-3

  REGISTERED TRADEMARK—MARCA REGISTRADA

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  Loni Kendra MacEwen could barely contain her excitement. The two-bedroom house was small and dated, but she saw it with the eye of an interior decorator, and there were possibilities everywhere she looked. She moved slowly through the rooms, envisioning white priscil
la curtains at the windows, a diamond-hard polyurethane wax on the worn hardwood floors, bright pillows and throws on the overstuffed sofa and chairs, and designer shades of paint on the walls. She could also imagine a cheerful blaze in the brick fireplace, with her huge yellow dog, Hannah, snoozing before the hearth.

  Normally Loni never would have considered renting an old house, much less a furnished one, but something about this neglected bungalow appealed to her. Maybe it was the charming bay windows, the built-in bookcases at each side of the fireplace, or the old-fashioned archways trimmed in burnished oak, but she was more inclined to think it was the essence of the house itself; a warm, peaceful feeling had enveloped her the moment she stepped inside.

  Smiling at her good fortune, she went to stand at the kitchen sink to gaze out the window at the large backyard enclosed by a sturdy, six-foot cedar fence. There was even an oversized dog door that opened into the attached garage. While Loni was at her shop, Hannah would have shelter from the weather, an important feature in the high-desert community of Crystal Falls, Oregon, where the winters could be long and harsh.

  The sudden chirp of her cell phone made Loni jump. Expecting a call from her older sister, she hurried to the mahogany dining table and plucked the device from her purse. Bypassing hello, she answered with, “You’ll never guess what.”

  Deirdre, a second grade teacher at Roosevelt Elementary a few blocks away, laughed and said, “You got the house!”

  Sinking onto a ladder-backed chair, Loni pushed a curly tendril of dark brown hair from her eyes. “It was love at first sight. I just signed a one-year lease. I’m so happy I want to shout.”

  “Oh, Loni, what wonderful news! I was starting to think you’d never find a place that would take Hannah.”

  Having an eleven-month-old Fila Brasileiro mastiff that weighed nearly two hundred pounds did come with its own set of problems. Loni couldn’t count the lease applications she’d filled out over the last two months that had been denied.

  “I got lucky,” she told her sister. “The man who owns the place lives in Portland, and he’s had some bad experiences with property management companies.”

  “So he was motivated to lease the house without involving a third party?”

  “Exactly. He never even blinked when I mentioned Hannah.”

  “What about when the place needs repairs? It’s a long drive from Portland for him to fix a leaky faucet.”

  “If something goes wrong, he gave me permission to call a handyman, deduct the cost from my rent, and just send him the receipt.”

  “That works.” Deirdre sighed. “I’m delighted for you, absolutely delighted.”

  Loni grinned. “Don’t sound too enthusiastic, or I’ll think you’re glad to be rid of me.”

  “Ha. I’ve loved having you, and so has Michael. You know that. Can I come see the house? The boys have Kids’ Club until four o’clock, and I was planning to go grocery shopping, but the heck with that. What’s the address?”

  Smiling happily, Loni grabbed the lease agreement and read off the information.

  “Oak Street?” A note of alarm crept into Deirdre’s voice. “Isn’t that in an older section of town?”

  Loni knew what was coming and ignored the question. “It’s perfect for me and Hannah, Deirdre. Just wait until you see it. Very quaint, with darling bay windows, beautiful oak trim, and a fenced-in yard. There’s even a dog door opening into the garage.”

  “Quaint?” Deirdre echoed. “Quaint as in old?”

  “Yes, fairly old,” Loni finally confessed. “I’m guessing it was built sometime in the forties.”

  “Oh, Loni, what on earth were you thinking? You’ll never be happy in an old house. You’ll have psychometric divinations bombarding you left and right.”

  It never ceased to amaze Loni that her sister, the only nonclairvoyant female in the MacEwen family, knew so many paranormal buzzwords. “Psycho what?”

  “Psychometric divination. That’s the appropriate term for the phenomenon that sometimes occurs when you touch things.”

  “What’s wrong with just calling it a nasty jolt?”

  “Nothing except that it’s boring.”

  “Boring suits me fine. I swear, if I had a deformed toe you’d call it a lower-digit deviation.”

  “Don’t compare your gift to a deformity.”

  “Why not?” Loni’s gift, as members of her family persisted in calling it, had adversely affected her entire life. As a child she’d had to be tutored at home. As a young adult, she’d been unable to hold down a job or attend college. Even now, when she was thirty-one, her social life was next to nonexistent. She rarely dated, she felt like a pariah at church, and as icing on the cake, she was forced to keep other decorators on the payroll so she could focus only on new construction. “It feels like a deformity.”

  With an ease born of long practice, Loni pushed away the negative thoughts and walked slowly to the living room, barely hearing her sister, who chattered in that shrill, nonstop way of hers when she got upset.

  “Back to the house,” Loni cut in, giving the small living room an appreciative look. It was going to be so lovely when she finished fixing it up. “I understand your concerns and know it would be best to rent a brand-new place. Unfortunately they don’t grow on trees, and my applications for the few I found were turned down because of Hannah. Now I’m glad they were. I’ve done a complete walk-through here and touched practically everything—cupboards, door-knobs, windowsills, faucets, and even all the furniture. I’ve picked up nothing unpleasant. Not every surface affects me, you know. It mostly happens only when I touch a person or the possession of someone who’s been through something terrible and needs help, or soon will go through something terrible and needs help.”

  “The house is furnished?”

  “I sold practically everything before I left Washington, hoping to buy new. Now I can wait to worry about furniture later.”

  “Oh, Loni.” Deirdre’s voice went even shriller. “What’ll you do if you start having problems and can’t break the lease?”

  “Live with you, I guess.” Loni laughed. Trailing a hand over the back of the sofa, she said, “Would you stop, Deirdre? I’m a big girl. If I’d thought for a moment I might have problems here, I never would have rented the place.”

  “It still worries me.”

  “Well, stop worrying. It’s a friendly little house. Have you ever walked through a door and felt instantly at home?”

  “Yes,” Deirdre replied, beginning to sound calmer. “When Michael and I were looking to buy, that’s exactly how we felt when we finally found our house.”

  “Well, that’s the feeling I got here. It’s just right somehow. I can’t wait to start decorating. I’m thinking of sage green here in the living room, with a darker shade on the fireplace wall to accentuate the brick and oak. It’s going to be a dollhouse when I’m finished with it.”

  “I’m sure it will be,” Deirdre conceded. “You’re a professional decorator, after all. And a one-year lease will be perfect, too. That’ll give you time to get your shop on its feet and make sure you like living in Crystal Falls before you buy a place of your own.”

  Loni pirouetted slowly to take in the room again. “I know it’s premature, but I’m no longer quite so worried about liking it here. All the snow was my biggest concern, but now that I’ve found this house I can cross that worry off my list. The driveway and front walk are pretty short. I’ll be able to clear them in no time. I’m actually excited. Isn’t that great?”

  “It’s fabulous.” Deirdre released a taut breath. “I’m sorry for going on and on at you. I just want you to be happy, is all.”

  “I know that, and I honestly think I will be here. It’s such a cute little place. Nice solid doors, too, inside and out. Once I get some dead bolts and a security system installed, I’ll feel safe as a baby in its mother’s arms.”

  “We need to celebrate somehow,” Deirdre suggested, clearly trying to show the enthusiasm she ha
d failed to at first. “How about a special dinner tonight?”

  “That’d be nice.” Loni glanced at her watch. “And since you worked all day, I’ll do the cooking. How does beef bourguignonne with hot homemade biscuits sound? Gram’s recipe only takes about three hours. I’ll stop at a store on the way over to pick up everything I’ll need. We can feed the boys hot dogs, get them into bed, and have a grown-up night.”

  “Beef bourguignonne? Yum. I haven’t had that in ages. I’ll call Michael and ask him to pick up a nice burgundy from the wine shop. Is there any kind you especially like?”

  Loni was about to answer when a bright flash of light suddenly blinded her. The next instant she saw a jet-haired cowboy standing before the fireplace hearth, his booted feet planted wide apart, his work-roughened hands resting on his narrow hips. The shadow cast by the brim of his chocolate-colored Stetson did little to diminish the burning intensity in his dark brown eyes.

  “Loni?” Deirdre’s voice seemed to come from a great distance. “Loni, are you still there?”

  Loni tried to speak, but her throat felt paralyzed. She finally managed a faint whisper. “Oh, God, Dee, it’s him.”

  “Who?” Deirdre demanded.

  Loni could barely hear her sister now. It was like being trapped in a snow globe. She was in the same small living room, but it was different now, exactly how she’d imagined it would look in a few weeks when she finished decorating. A designer shade of sage green covered the walls, and colorful rugs graced the gleaming hardwood floors. An awful dizziness set her head to spinning, and for a moment she thought she might faint.

  Then her senses suddenly cleared, and the room came into sharper focus. The cowboy still stood before her. Under the blue shirt his shoulder muscles were bunched with tension. Loni could feel a cool breeze coming through an open window, and the scent of freshly cut grass wafted to her nostrils. Down the street somewhere, a dog was barking, and its owner yelled for it to be quiet.

 
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