Free Love Is Elected by Alyssa Howard Page A

idea it was this impressive," Kara accused. "You could have prepared me."
    Next to her, Matt grinned. "I never thought of it that way. This is where I grew up," he said warmly. "It's just home to me."
    Matt parked the silver Porsche at the edge of the circular drive in front of the house. Getting out, he walked around to Kara's side of the car, opened the door, and took her arm. Even after he shut the door behind her, he held onto her tightly as he led her up the walk.
    When they were almost to the house, the front door flew open and a tall, slim, white-haired man dressed in a work shirt, jeans and leather riding boots emerged.
    "Welcome home, Matt," he boomed. "Your mother is as excited as a high-strung filly over your marriage." Then he turned to Kara.
    "So this is the lucky bride," he chuckled approvingly. "We didn't think anybody was going to lasso our Matt. But honey, I want to tell you you've got one heck of a man here."
    The color in Kara's cheeks heightened. But Matt handled the situation smoothly.
    "I'd like you to meet Lew McAlister," he said. "Lew's been with the family since before I was born. He runs the horse farm for my mother. He's quite a character with his Wild West ways, but you don't have to believe everything he says."
    "I'm… I'm pleased to meet you," Kara stammered, holding out her hand. But McAlister swept her into a bear hug. "I expect you to take good care of this boy," he drawled in her ear. "But I'll let you in on a secret; it takes a tight rein to keep him out of trouble. I know, I had the job for twenty years."
    "You don't want to frighten her off, do you Lew?" Matt asked dryly.
    "You're right. I better stop flapping my mouth. And you better go in to see your mother," he said to Matt.
    But before he turned toward the paddocks, he winked at Kara.
    Matt opened the door and they stepped into the cool, elegant foyer. The floor was black and white marble tile, set off with oriental rugs. A curving staircase with an elaborately carved railing swept up to the second floor. And the long Chippendale hall table held a polished silver bowl brimming with an arrangement of freshly cut spring flowers. Matt steered Kara down the hall toward the back of the house. As Kara passed the living room and dining room, she had a quick impression of expensive antique furniture and plush upholstery.
    "This is like the Sugar Hill mansion I toured once in Philadelphia when I was in college," she whispered.
    "Well, this one's not open to the public all the time, but it is included on the Christmas candlelight tours my mother organizes each year for Maryland charities. But let's not keep her waiting; she's probably in the greenhouse."
    At the back of the house they entered a large glassed-in room where the air was heady with the smell of flowers and plants. In the middle of the room Kara could see an elegant-looking silver-haired woman dressed in a pale blue shirtwaist who was busy repotting an enormous Boston fern. As they entered, the woman looked up and a warm smile spread across her aristocratic features.
    "Matthew dear," she said, standing up and stripping off her gardening gloves. "And this must be Kara." She hurried forward and gave the young woman an affectionate embrace. "I can't tell you how happy I am to welcome you to the family."
    Kara found herself responding to the genuine warmth of this woman who seemed so different from her overbearing son. But she didn't know what to say. Over Mrs. Jordan's shoulder, she looked at Matt helplessly, her eyes begging him to explain the situation.
    "Mother, there's something I have to tell you," Matt began.
    But Mrs. Jordan, who had stepped back from Kara, shook her head. "You don't have to tell me anything," she interrupted. "Frank Adams was here yesterday afternoon and explained the whole story."
    Matt's features hardened. "Then he's overstepped his responsibilities," he ground out. "His duties don't extend to my personal life."
    "That may be true," his mother agreed. "But I'm