Trouble Don’t Last Always by Francis Ray Read Free Book Online Page B

downstairs.”
    “Jon—”
    “Downstairs.” Jonathan glanced meaningfully behind him to the closed door.
    Without another word, Eleanor turned and headed downstairs, her heels clicking rhythmically against the hardwood floor. She had never been a patient woman, less when it came to those she loved.
    In two long strides Jonathan caught up with her, his large hand closing around her upper arm. She never slowed or indicated in any way that she was aware of his touch. His fingers flexed out of his own perverse need for her to acknowledge him. The need no longer annoyed or disgusted him; it simply was.
    The glance she threw him was impatient at best, but for the moment it was enough. His fingers relaxed, but not before he noted the fragility of the bones beneath the silk blouse she wore. His brows bunched as they started down the carpeted staircase.
    Eleanor’s once-svelte body had gently rounded as the years and the births of two children altered her shape. To him the change added depth and dimensions to her maturity, not detracting from it. He could still easily sweep her off her feet if the occasion arose, still admire the easy sway of her hips. What bothered him was her not taking care of herself. Mentioning it now would only be a waste of time. Her every thought was on Adam, her firstborn.
    “Well?” she asked, rounding on Jonathan the instant she reached the bottom of the stairs.
    “The living room.” Steering her in that direction, he led her to the sofa. “Sit down, Eleanor. Please.”
    With ill-concealed grace she sat, then crossed her ankles and clasped her hands, preparing herself for the worst. For a brief moment he stared at the thumb of her right hand absently rubbing the diamond-encrusted wedding band on her left hand. For a futile moment he wished she had reached for him.
    Feeling every one of his fifty-nine years, Jonathan moved to the oak fireplace across the room. He stared at the woman he had always loved and could never have. “Adam will let the woman stay.”
    As Eleanor briefly shut her eyes, her shoulders slumped; her head fell forward. “Thank God.”
    Across from Eleanor, Nicole, her beautiful face a picture of disbelief, surged to her feet. She was tall, elegant, and, at the moment, enraged. “He can’t do that!”
    Jonathan dispassionately studied the beautifully polished woman in her early thirties. Not an auburn hair was out of place. She had flawless almond-hued skin and soulful hazel eyes. Once again he wondered why Adam never mentioned her name anymore. “It’s his decision and he wants me to bring her back here.”
    “You can’t seriously be considering letting that woman stay,” Nicole retorted. “We know absolutely nothing about her. You can’t forget she caused him to fall.”
    “Adam did that to himself,” Jonathan said. He shifted his gaze to Eleanor. He’d expected Nicole’s disapproval and outrage. Eleanor’s opinion was the only one that mattered. “Even with my contacts in the medical profession, hiring another person on such short notice would be difficult.”
    “
We
could stay.” Nicole glanced at Kristen for agreement.
    Kristen, standing by the window, wrapped her arms around her waist. “It’s Adam’s decision.”
    Nicole’s hazel eyes glinted; the lush, sensual mouth flattened in annoyance. “Adam hasn’t been making the best decisions in the past weeks.”
    Kristen’s slim body tensed. She stared at her mother as Jonathan knew she would. Adam was the strong, independent son; Kristen, the tender-hearted daughter who remained unsure of herself. Asthma as a child coupled with an overprotective family hadn’t given her the opportunity to find her way as healthy, robust Adam had. Losing her father when she was fifteen had left her floundering even more. Just as she was beginning to come into her own, the brother she worshipped had to learn a hard lesson about invincibility. Regrettably, she had to learn with him.
    “Uncle Jon?” Kristen asked,