The Perfect Mum

The Perfect Mum
Janice Kay Johnson

Everyone says Kathleen Monroe is perfect–the perfect wife, the perfect hostess, the perfect mother.But after a lifetime of practice, Kathleen is beginning to wonder if perfectionism is a good thing. After all, it didn't help her marriage and might just have led to her daughter's illness. And if those aren't enough reasons for her to doubt her priorities, then meeting Logan Carr should be.Logan's great. He's kind, patient and nothing like her first husband. But to Kathleen, he's far from perfect….

The man standing on her doorstep was a total stranger

One who wasn’t scary, but could be. At a little over six foot, he wasn’t unusually tall, but he was broad. Big shouldered, with strong legs and powerful arms and neck. His face was blunt featured, even crude, but somehow pleasing, the only reason Kathleen didn’t slam the door in a panic.

He was the kind of man she couldn’t picture in a well-cut suit, the antithesis of her handsome, successful ex-husband. This man had to work with his hands.

“May I help you?” she asked finally.

“I’m Logan Carr.” He looked expectant, adding when she didn’t respond, “I’m the cabinetmaker.”

“Oh, no!” She’d made an appointment with him so that he could give her a bid. She, of course, had completely forgotten.

Somehow this was the last straw. One more thing to have gone wrong, one more thing to think about when she couldn’t. Suddenly he was a blur, and she was humiliated to realize she was crying.

He stepped forward, taking advantage of her nerveless hand to come uninvited into her house and to close the door behind him. The next thing she knew, she was engulfed in powerful arms and a flannel shirt, her wet cheek pressed to his chest.

And did she, dignified, gracious but reserved, wrench free and demand he leave?

No. She buried her face in that comforting flannel and let herself sob.

Dear Reader,

Kathleen Monroe is at the heart of this trilogy. After all, she’s the one who bought the old brick house in Seattle where three woman live as they embark on new phases of their lives.

As a writer, I love nothing more than exploring how people react to the greatest stresses I can throw at them. You notice I say “people,” not “characters.” That’s because I do try to create people as real as you and me. Sometimes they’ve done ignoble things but are capable of growth and even sacrifice for their loved ones. I’d like to believe almost everyone can and will do the same.

Which makes me a romantic, I fear! So, sure, I’m writing about an angry teenager who is starving herself to death, a woman described by one of her roommates as a “princess” because she is beautiful, charming and spoiled, and a homely cabinetmaker who knows in his heart he isn’t good enough for the “princess.” Doesn’t sound like a match made in heaven, does it?

But, oh, just wait…. If I do say so myself, Logan Carr is one of my all-time most appealing heroes. Question is, can Kathleen measure up?

Good reading!

Janice Kay Johnson

The Perfect Mum

Janice Kay Johnson

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

The Perfect Mum

CONTENTS

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 ONE

A CHILD SCREAMED, a piercing note of terror that seemed to shiver the window glass.

Kathleen dropped her coffee mug and shot to her feet, tripping over her bathrobe. Even as she raced for the kitchen doorway, heart doing sickening things in her chest, she thought, Was that Emma? Not Ginny, surely. Even her giggles were soft!

The scream became a gurgle, a sobbed, “Auntie Kath! Auntie Kath!” and Kathleen knew. Ginny was terrified because she’d found…

Emma. Something was wrong with Emma.

Hiking her robe above her knees, she leaped up the stairs two at a time. “Ginny! What’s wrong?”

Their cat hurtled down the stairs, ricocheting off Kathleen’s shin before vanishing below. Wild-eyed and wearing nothing but a sacky T-shirt, Jo emerged from her bedroom, the first at the head of the stairs. One of Kathleen’s adult roommates who helped pay the rent, Jo was a graduate student and didn’t have to get up as early as the others this semester.

“What is it?”

Kathleen didn’t answer.

Six-year-old Ginny, the timid mouse in their household, darted from the bathroom. Hiccuping with sobs, she snatched Kathleen’s hand.

“Auntie Kath! It’s Emma!”

A whimper escaped Kathleen’s throat when she reached the bathroom. Her daughter lay unconscious on the floor, blood matting her hair.