Heaven Here On Earth

by Carole Mortimer

  Ryan climbed into the Land Rover beside him, still looking out of the side-window for Ragtag. He couldn’t have disappeared so completely. It was pretty open countryside, with a few odd trees, masses and masses of gorse bushes, an occasional wall to divide the fields, certainly nowhere a dog of Ragtag’s size could really hide. And yet he had gone.

  Peter Thornby started up the engine. ‘I shouldn’t worry about it, Ryan. He could turn up again, but then again, he’s survived this long on his own, there’s no reason why he shouldn’t continue to do so.’

  She knew he was right, and yet she couldn’t help missing the friendly dog. She hoped that, as Peter Thornby said, he would continue to be able to take care of himself.

  She shook off her despondency with effort and turned to look at the man at her side. He was dressed in a dark green anorak and old brown corduroys, his feet thrust into Wellington boots, the bottoms of his trousers tucked inside them.

  ‘Do you live locally?’ Ryan asked conversationally.

  ‘About five miles away.’ He drove the large vehicle confidently down the narrow lane. ‘I have a large area to cover,’ he smiled.

  ‘Is it far to Montgomery Hall?’

  ‘About another half mile. Why didn’t you call Grant from the station?’ he frowned. ‘I’m sure he would have sent a car for you.’

  Ryan grimaced. ‘I don’t even know him, I thought it seemed a bit of a cheek. I tried to get a taxi, but—’

  ‘Bert’s leg is playing him up.’

  Her eyes widened. ‘How did you know?’

  Peter spluttered with laughter. ‘He’s used the same excuse for the last twenty years.’

  She smiled too. ‘How does he make a living?’

  Peter shrugged. ‘I have no idea, but he manages somehow. And if he gets a bit short of cash his leg is miraculously better for a couple of weeks. Once you’ve been in Sleaton a few days you’ll realise it’s full of characters like Bert Jenkins.’

  ‘And Jack the porter,’ she joined in his teasing.

  ‘Right,’ he nodded with a grin. ‘He’s got a bad back, you know,’ he told her in a derisive voice.

  ‘So have I now!’

  ‘How do you like Sleaton so far?’ he quirked a mocking eyebrow.

  Ryan gave a laugh of enjoyment. ‘Strangely enough, very much.’

  ‘Me too. I even came back here after completing my training.’ He brought the Land Rover to a halt and turned with his arm along the back of her seat. ‘Well, here we are.’

  ‘We are?’ She looked over to the right-hand side of the road. Montgomery Hall was indeed behind ‘huge iron gates’, as the woman at the station had told her; it was also surrounded by a ten-foot wall!

  She couldn’t help her gasp of surprise, as her gaze passed on to the house itself, a big Georgian manor house about half a mile from the gate down a gravel driveway, neatly laid lawns and trees fronting the house, with a gardener busy working on the numerous flower-beds.

  Peter was watching her reaction. ‘Impressive, isn’t it?’

  What an understatement! ‘Very,’ she gulped.

  ‘It’s just as beautiful inside,’ he told her. ‘I wish I had the time to drive you down to the house, but I was called out to a sick cow over half an hour ago…’

  ‘You’ve been very kind already.’ Ryan got down from the Land Rover and came round to get her case from the back. ‘Thank you,’ she smiled up at him.

  He nodded. ‘My pleasure. No doubt I’ll see you again soon. And if you do happen to see that dog again perhaps you could bring him to my surgery? I usually call in at Sleaton Monday and Friday evenings.’

  She frowned. ‘You don’t think there’s anything wrong with him?’

  ‘Not at all,’ he answered instantly. ‘But I doubt if it would do any harm to have him examined.’

  ‘I’ll bring him if I see him.’ She somehow felt a responsibility to the stray dog.

  ‘Fine,’ he smiled. ‘Give my regards to Grant and Mandy.’

  Ryan turned to look at the house once again when Peter had driven off. She had been right to suppose it was a big house, only it was all more, much more, than she had imagined. She only hoped Mandy and Grant Montgomery proved to be as nice as Mark.

  She felt something wet nuzzling her hand, and looked down to see Ragtag. Her face lit up with pleasure, and she bent down to him. ‘Where did you go?’ She cuddled him, regardless of his dirty coat. ‘I thought you’d gone for good! But I’m glad you haven’t—I was beginning to feel like Maria in The Sound of Music, standing out here looking up at the house. Still,’ she stood up, ‘at least there aren’t seven children in there—I hope!’ she grimaced.

  It took all her strength to open the gate, and she made no objection when the dog followed her. She liked his company. Besides, he gave her confidence.

  The gardener gave her a curious look as she walked down the driveway, and she suddenly realised what a mess she must look. She was covered in dust from cuddling Ragtag, her hair was windswept, and her case even more disreputable after being in the back of Peter Thornby’s Land Rover. It looked as if he often carried animals in there. She shrugged resignedly; there was nothing she could do about her appearance now.

  ‘You’ll have to stay outside,’ she instructed the dog as she rang the doorbell. ‘I just have to pick up the key to the cottage. I think one Ragtag going inside is enough,’ she added ruefully.

  The butler didn’t even blink an eyelid when she told him who she was. ‘Miss Amanda is in the drawing-room,’ he told her stiffly.

  Thank goodness she was staying in a cottage on the estate—far away from the main house, she hoped. She was used to doing what she wanted, when she wanted. It must be strange having a houseful of servants.

  ‘Stay, Ragtag,’ she instructed as he sat down on the top step. ‘I shouldn’t be long,’ she added hopefully, leaving her luggage in the hallway before following the butler through to the drawing-room. At least she was going to meet the Montgomerys one at a time!

  It was a very long room, almost running the entire length of the house, and the whole room had an air of comfortable elegance; one end was obviously the sitting area, the suite having an unobtrusive floral pattern, the curtains at the long windows matching the pattern exactly.

  Huge double doors were opened into the garden at the other end of the informal room, and it was the girl seated behind the piano who held Ryan’s attention. She couldn’t be any other than Mark’s sister; she had his rich dark hair, kept short and boyish, her eyes, as she stared sightlessly into the garden, were the same hazel colour. She was a pretty girl, extremely so, and her pale lilac dress suited her dark colouring.

  The butler coughed rather pointedly, and although the girl’s shoulders stiffened slightly she made no effort to stop playing, her fingers flowing fluidly over the piano keys. Ryan had no sense of music, modern or old, but she thought this playing was probably good.

  Suddenly the girl crashed all ten fingers down on to the keys and turned to face them, her eyes flashing. ‘What is it, Shelley?’ she snapped in a haughty voice, totally ignoring Ryan as she stood beside him.

  The butler appeared unperturbed by her abruptness. ‘Miss Ryan Shelton,’ he announced.

  Cool hazel eyes were turned on Ryan, who withstood the appraisal very well in the circumstances. This girl was very insolent, nothing at all like the easygoing Mark.

  ‘Thank you, Shelley,’ she said dismissively, not even looking at him. ‘You may go.’ She stood up, a tall girl; her lilac dress was very elegantly styled, her legs long and shapely, the heels high on her matching sandals. ‘So you’re Ryan Shelton,’ she mused slowly. ‘My brother’s little friend from college.’

  Ryan bit her lip, not taking to Amanda Montgomery at all. She only hoped first impressions were wrong! ‘Mark and I are at college together, yes,’ she answered calmly, feeling her untidiness more against this young girl’s sophistication. She looked much older than the eighteen Mark had said she was! As for the two of them being co
mpany for each other—the only thing they had in common was their youth!

  ‘My name’s Mandy.’ The other girl began to thaw a little, humour lightening her eyes. ‘You aren’t what Grant was expecting at all,’ she commented.

  ‘No?’ Ryan frowned.

  ‘No. You see, he—’ Mandy broke off as a man strode into the room, a man who instantly held Ryan’s attention.

  He had to be Grant Montgomery, that much was obvious once again by his dark colouring, but that was where all similarity to Mark ended! This man was incredibly tall, well over six feet, with the powerful physique of an athlete, his shoulders wide, a flat hardened stomach, muscular thighs and long legs all shown to advantage in the checked working shirt and close-fitting faded denims.

  But it was his face that held her attention. It wasn’t just that he was so much older than she had expected, at least ten years Mark’s senior, it was also that he was so incredibly good-looking, in a harsh way. His hair grew long and dark over his ears and collar, his face was tanned a dark teak colour from the wind and sunshine he worked in, his eyes were the colour of emeralds, the nose long and hawkish, the top lip of the firmly compressed mouth thin and uncompromising, the lower lip fuller, sensually so. His jaw was firm and strong, the top two buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned to reveal an equally tanned chest.

  Those green eyes flickered over her with a keen intelligence, his brows lifting slightly in surprise. ‘I didn’t know you had a friend coming over this afternoon, Mandy.’ His voice was deep and gravelly, sending shivers of awareness down Ryan’s spine.

  His sister’s mouth twisted. ‘I haven’t.’

  The green eyes narrowed now. ‘Then who—’

  ‘Ryan Shelton,’ Mandy supplied with obvious relish.

  He drew in an angry breath. ‘Another of Mark’s little jokes, I take it?’ he rasped, his voice no longer pleasurable to listen to in his displeasure.

  Ryan listened to the exchange between brother and sister with a sinking heart. It didn’t sound as if she was exactly welcome here! And Mark had sworn he had arranged everything! She should have known. She would kill him when she got back to—

  ‘Please excuse us, Miss Shelton,’ Grant Montgomery spoke to her directly now. ‘When Mark informed us of your visit he omitted one thing.’

  At least it was only one!

  ‘The fact that you’re a girl,’ Grant finished in a derisive voice.

  Ryan swallowed hard, as the sinking feeling returned. ‘He did?’ she grimaced. What did it mean? Wasn’t she welcome if she was a girl?

  ‘Yes,’ Grant Montgomery bit out, his eyes icy now, derogative as he looked her up and down. ‘He merely said it would be a friend called Ryan.’

  ‘Does it make a difference?’ She chewed on her bottom lip.

  ‘To your visit here? No,’ he shrugged dismissively. ‘Although I’m a little surprised at your interest in art.’

  ‘Interest?’ she echoed sharply. ‘It’s more than an interest, it’s my career,’ she defended, sensing his criticism.

  ‘Oh yes?’ he scorned. ‘And what do you intend doing with it?’

  ‘Well, I—’

  ‘Because unless you have an exceptional talent,’ which his tone seemed to imply he doubted, ‘or intend going into advertising or teaching, art is a complete waste of time, especially for a woman.’

  Ryan flushed. ‘Maybe I have an exceptional talent,’ she snapped, her chin at a challenging angle.

  ‘Maybe,’ Grant Montgomery drawled. ‘And now you have the use of an exceptional studio. But not of the cottage, I’m afraid,’ he added with a frown.

  ‘No?’ She tried to remain calm in the face of what looked like being a wasted journey. Even supposing Grant Montgomery did let her have the use of the studio, she doubted if the village had a hotel. If it didn’t have a taxi it was highly unlikely to have a hotel!

  ‘No. You see—’ He broke off as a strange noise sounded through the house. ‘What the hell—!’ He strode off through the open patio doors to the back of the house where the noise appeared to be coming from.

  Ryan followed more slowly. She already knew what the strange noise was. Ragtag howling.…

  CHAPTER TWO

  HE was still howling when the three of them reached the back of the house, sitting in the cobbled yard with his head raised to the clear blue sky, howling soulfully, as if his very life depended on it.

  Grant Montgomery came to an abrupt halt, staring incredulously at the scruffy dog. ‘Good grief,’ he blinked, as if his eyes had to be deceiving him. ‘What on earth is that?’

  Ryan bridled at his scornful tone, and Ragtag stopped his howling long enough to growl at the tall imposing man who looked down at him so disdainfully.

  ‘It looks like a dog,’ said Mandy in amusement.

  ‘It is a dog!’ Ryan moved to Ragtag’s side, going down on her haunches to have her face licked ecstatically by her new canine friend. She glared up at the brother and sister. ‘My dog,’ she told them angrily.

  Grant’s brows rose arrogantly. ‘You’re expecting him to stay here too?’

  ‘You said I couldn’t use the cottage,’ she reminded him, standing up, but keeping the now quiet Ragtag at her side.

  ‘At this moment, unfortunately not. Some of the roof tiles have come loose during the winter storms, something that wasn’t discovered until yesterday when the cottage was opened up for you. I have a man working on it now, but until such time as the repairs are completed and the cottage is aired for you you’re welcome to stay in the house.’ He looked down at Ragtag. ‘The dog is not.’

  She looked down at Ragtag too, seeing what Grant Montgomery must see, a dirty unbrushed mutt, desperately in need of a good cleaning. But she also saw the trust in his deep brown eyes as he watched her, the almost stupidly loving expression on his face, his tail wagging goodnaturedly. If what Peter Thornby said was truth, that Ragtag was probably a stray, then there was no reason why he shouldn’t become her dog.

  ‘I have two dogs of my own,’ Grant Montgomery added before she could make any comment. ‘Two Golden Labradors. I doubt they would welcome—’ he paused pointedly.

  ‘Ragtag,’ she mumbled at his prompting.

  ‘How appropriate,’ Mandy taunted.

  Ryan flashed her a look of dislike. ‘That’s what I thought.’

  ‘Yes, well,’ Grant Montgomery’s mouth showed signs of a smile, although it never materialised, ‘Rex and Riba don’t like strange dogs in their home. But that isn’t to say your dog isn’t welcome to stay, as you are,’ this last seemed to come out rather grudgingly. ‘Would you mind if he slept in the stable until the cottage is ready? It will only be for a couple of nights.’

  Considering Ragtag was probably used to sleeping under the stars, a stable would probably be a luxury to him. And yet Ryan was aware that Grant Montgomery was only making a token show of seeking her approval, that it was the stable or nothing. Her mutt mustn’t be allowed to mix with his purebred Labradors!

  ‘I realise he needs a bath—’

  ‘That’s an understatement,’ Mandy mocked.

  Again Ryan looked at her with dislike. Snobbish little cat! ‘We happen to have travelled a long way,’ she flashed. ‘Both of us got rather dusty on the walk from the station.’

  ‘You walked?’ the other girl gasped.

  She stiffened. ‘Of course.’

  Grant Montgomery was frowning, the problem of Ragtag forgotten. ‘You came by train?’

  ‘Why else would I be at the station?’

  His eyes hardened as he met the anger in hers. ‘Mark didn’t tell us you would be coming by train.’

  ‘Does it matter?’ she dismissed, becoming more and more disenchanted with this situation.

  ‘Not at all,’ he answered coldly. ‘Except there was no need for you to have walked all that way. A telephone call and one of us would have come and got you.’

  She shrugged. ‘I managed to get a lift in the end.’

  ‘Oh yes?’


  Ryan sensed his disapproval. However, she was twenty-one, not twelve, and she certainly didn’t have to ask this man’s permission to accept the offer of a lift! She didn’t relish the thought of being a guest in his home for the next few days either. Staying in a cottage on the estate was one thing, living in the house, if only for a couple of days, was something else completely. It meant she would be thrown into close daily contact with both Grant and Mandy Montgomery. And what she had seen of them so far didn’t endear them to her.

  ‘With the vet,’ she told them casually. ‘A very nice man. He sent his regards.’

  ‘So you’ve met Peter,’ Mandy said slowly.

  Ryan looked at her curiously, sensing a deep interest behind the casual question. The other girl had a delicate flush to her cheeks, a glow to her eyes. Could it be that she was more than a little interested in the local vet? If she were it was obvious from Grant Montgomery’s haughty expression that he knew nothing about it. Would he approve or not? Peter Thornby was a lot older than Mandy, but then the girl was headstrong, maybe maturity was what she needed.

  She firmly dismissed the other girl’s interest from her mind. It was none of her business who Mandy—or Grant, for that matter—fell in love with. She was just here to paint, and the sooner she could move into that cottage the better it would be as far as she was concerned.

  ‘Yes, I met him,’ she nodded. ‘He was in a hurry, though, so he couldn’t stop.’

  Mandy’s mouth tightened angrily. ‘He never can!’ She turned on her heel and walked back into the house.

  More than interested, Ryan would say. An unreturned interest, by the look of it.

  Grant Montgomery looked taken aback by his sister’s behaviour, an emotion he quickly masked as he turned back to Ryan. ‘I’ll show you where the dog can sleep,’ he said abruptly, leading the way over to the stables.

  She slowly followed him, aware of the power he exuded, his strides long and purposeful, muscles rippling beneath his shirt as he swung the door open.

  ‘One of the stalls should be all right,’ he told her.