Kitabı oku: «Protected Hearts», sayfa 3

“A second office? I don’t even have one now!”

“You’re extending your business, which means more receipts, more records. If you plan ahead, you won’t be crowding yourself into one office, especially if you end up hiring more help.”

She was quiet, reflecting on his suggestions. “Actually, you’ve given it more thought than I have.”

“I’ve designed enlargements for a lot of growing companies. The hardest part for the business owner is to visualize just how much expansion is needed. Most underestimate it. Then you’re looking at another expansion, which doubles the cost. My mother had an expression for it: penny-wise, pound-foolish.”

“I can see that.” She lifted her gaze. “I’m fortunate to have found you.”

He didn’t move a muscle.

“To remodel the shop,” she added quickly. “You clearly know what you’re doing.”

“I’ve had a lot of experience. A good designer gives you options.” He pulled out a third sheet of drawing paper. “Here’s another way to go at it—adding only the storeroom you requested, along with moving the dressing rooms. We can add or take away any of these elements.”

The options were overwhelming. Emma glanced from the scaled-down version to the one she instinctively knew would work best. “I like your original. When you have an estimate, I’ll talk to the bank, make sure they’ll finance the addition.”

He nodded, then withdrew a materials list. “I assume you want to use good materials, but you don’t want to pay for a Jag when a Chevy will do.”

“You read my mind. If the price gets too high, I won’t be able to expand.”

Seth pushed back a bit on his stool. “Have you considered buying or leasing another property? A building that’s already large enough?”

“I don’t want to move. I have a good location—which is the reason I chose it. Why? Are you having second thoughts about the job?”

“No. But you ought to consider every option, whether it means a job for me or not. I’ll firm up the figures. I should have them by tomorrow.”

Emma felt herself deflate. “Wow.”

“Some people agonize over choosing a design for weeks, even longer. Consider yourself ahead of the game.”

“The game’s moving faster than I expected.”

“Emma, it’s your decision. At this point you aren’t committed to anything.”

Commitment—something she would never be ready for. But this was business, not personal. “Let’s go for it. Your estimate, my visit to the bank.” She took a breath, hoping what she was about to say was true. “I’m ready.”

Seth met her gaze and Emma wondered if she saw doubt in his expression. No wonder. She wasn’t exactly brimming with confidence. Change. Maybe this time she didn’t have to run from it.

Randy Carter clicked off his cell phone, then stared at the dull green living-room wall. The pair of faded, bucolic pictures were the same ones his mother had hung nearly thirty years ago. The tired landscapes were the closest his family had ever come to the country.

It wasn’t sentiment that kept him from changing the dreary decor. His mother had died long ago, but Randy didn’t particularly miss her. She had been a misery, always carrying on about his father, a man who’d left them when Randy was ten, Ken still in diapers. Randy didn’t miss his father, either. The old man hadn’t wanted the burden of a couple of kids.

There was only one person Randy cared about—his younger brother. No one had messed with Ken when he was growing up, shielded by Randy’s heavy fist. And he had passed on a lot of his street sense, but not enough to keep Ken out of trouble.

Ken was young, too young to be sent to a federal pen. But that D.A., that woman D.A. wouldn’t listen. And now…

Abruptly Randy stood, stalking over to Ken’s empty room. Now Ken was hurt. Beaten. And it was bad. Bad enough to put him in the infirmary, the warden’s assistant had told him. Bad enough that Ken had been rushed to surgery because of internal bleeding.

No one did that to Kenny and got away with it. Randy didn’t blame the inmates. They were burning off the anger being behind bars caused.

It was her. Emily Perry. She was to blame. Curling his fingers into a fist he pounded the wall. White dust flew from the destroyed sheetrock. She’d gotten away once. She wouldn’t again.

Chapter Four

“This prospectus is very professional,” Harry Dodd told Emma. Although he was the sole loan officer, his desk merited a small office in the bank lobby. “A lot of small businesses just have a few scraps of paper they call their records.”

Emma couldn’t divulge her legal background. “I like to keep everything in order. Which brings me to you today. I’ve outgrown my current space. As you can see from my figures, the business has grown appreciably since I opened the shop.”

Harry nodded. “Impressive. And you own the building?”

“Yes.”

“Is there a mortgage?”

“Yes.” She’d used a good deal of her insurance money for a down payment, but it hadn’t been enough to buy the shop outright. She hoped that wouldn’t block her loan.

He didn’t seem perturbed, though. “I know the building you’re in. The last business there had a good run, over forty years. Maybe with this addition you will, too.”

She brightened, scooting forward to the edge of her chair.

Harry Dodd looked up from the papers. “I think we can do business, Ms. Duvere.”

Relief made her smile. “I’m so glad to hear that. I think it’s a wonderful location and I don’t want to move.” She hesitated. “The shop means a great deal to me.”

“That’s the feeling that keeps Rosewood alive. Pride, a sense of ownership in the town. I see you’ve only been living here a couple of years.”

“Yes. Is that a problem?”

“Not at all,” Dodd assured her. “I’m encouraged when new businesses choose Rosewood. Big or small.” He jotted down a few notes. “I’ll run a credit report, but I don’t anticipate any problems. I’ll draw up the paperwork today.”

“That quickly?” she asked, surprised.

“Yes. It’s straightforward.” He glanced at his desk calendar. “Can you come in tomorrow? I’ll need a few signatures, and you can collect your check.”

Emma was stunned. It was as though everything had been pushed into high gear. “Yes, that will be fine. Thank you, Mr. Dodd.”

He stood, extending his hand. “You’ll find that we may be a small town, but we’d like to think we’re part of the twenty-first century.”

They shook hands. “I’ve learned that small-town thinking is something to be valued.”

Mr. Dodd’s expression showed his approval.

Emma was optimistic as she left the bank. It was a clear, beautiful day. On impulse, she walked to her shop.

Century-old trees lined the street, a link from Rosewood’s Victorian past to the present. A sprinkling of pedestrians strolled the shaded sidewalks and some cars rolled by. She loved the quiet, the sense of solidity. And the pace. Not frantic, not too sleepy.

Unlike many towns in rural America, Rosewood’s downtown thrived. Although the buildings were old, they weren’t shabby reminders of better times. They housed vital businesses—the drugstore, an ice cream and soda shop that boasted original marble counters, the hardware store and others.

As Emma examined the hardware window she’d decorated, she shook her head at the changes put in motion since she’d met Seth.

At her own shop, she smiled at the jingle of the bell as she opened the door. Tina was with a customer, but when she spotted Emma she excused herself, practically running across the store. “Well?”

“They said yes.”

“Hallelujah! So when does the remodeling start?”

Emma blinked. “I haven’t set a date yet since I didn’t know what the bank would say.”

“Then you need to call that yummy contractor right away.”

“Yummy?” Emma echoed.

Tina rolled her eyes. “As though you didn’t notice. Fine. Phone that capable contractor and see when he can start.”

There were times Emma wondered who was really in charge of the shop. But it didn’t bother her. It was good to work as a team.

With Tina’s eyes fastened on her, Emma stowed her purse beneath the counter and reached for the phone.

Seth answered on the second ring. He was ready to start immediately. She mouthed the word tomorrow in Tina’s direction. “Okay, then. That’ll be great.”

Tina crossed to her side in a flash as she hung up the phone. “I can’t wait!”

Emma smiled weakly. There was no turning back now.

After a long night, Emma decided she had over-reacted. Growth for her business was a good thing. It didn’t mean she’d forgotten the past. She’d been forced to move away from L.A. and establish a new life, it hadn’t been her choice. Somehow, becoming too successful or happy had seemed like a betrayal, as though she was forgetting Rachel and Tom, leaving them behind.

They deserved more. They were more than painful memories. She thought of her late husband’s smile, of baby Rachel’s laughter. That’s what she needed to remember.

She kept that thought close as she went to the bank. She picked up the check without a hitch. Afterward, she stopped by the bakery for muffins and cookies. Suddenly, it seemed as though a celebration was in order. And she was certain Tom and Rachel would approve.

Humming as she sailed into the shop, her eyes widened in surprise. Seth had already erected the scaffolding. As she walked deeper into the shop, she saw Tina through the open curtain of the back room. The shop wasn’t open yet, but there was a flurry of activity.

“Hey, boss!” Tina greeted her, hands filled with a carton. “Yum, muffins. Looks like you got cranberry-orange and poppyseed.”

“Yes.” Absently Emma placed the muffins on the counter. “What’s going on?”

“I thought I’d get started on the things that need to go in the storage unit,” Tina replied.

“We have a storage unit?”

“Out back.” Tina put down her carton and reached for a muffin. “It’s portable.”

“I see.” But she didn’t.

“I started with stuff from the storeroom that we don’t use very often. I figured that would be your plan.” Tina glanced up from her muffin. “Isn’t it?”

“Yes, I suppose so.” Dazed, Emma felt helpless in the ebb of change.

“Everything go all right at the bank?” Tina asked.

“Yes. Actually much quicker and easier than I thought.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“Tina, you see too much.”

“It’s a character flaw,” she replied, unperturbed. “Did you have other ideas about the storage unit?”

Emma shook her head. “I’m glad you got started. I just…”

Tina pinched a cranberry from her muffin. “You just what?”

“I really don’t have a plan. And that’s not a very propitious beginning.”

Tina frowned. “You drew up a great plan for the bank.”

“That was on paper,” Emma reminded her.

“We don’t work with a plan, and look how good business has been.”

Emma returned the smile. It had seemed as though Tina had simply wandered into her shop the first day it opened, but Emma believed the Lord had nudged the woman her way. She was both right hand and friend.

“Everything go all right at the bank?” Seth asked from behind.

Startled, Emma turned. “Yes. It was painless.”

“Good. Once most of the storeroom is cleared, I’d like to begin with the addition. When it’s completed, we can move the display section farther back and I can work in the shop area.”

Emma took a deep breath. “That sounds reasonable. When do you want the back room cleared?”

“As soon as possible. I want to rip out some of the plaster, examine the bones, see what we have to work with.”

That sounded awfully messy, but Emma braved a smile. “I haven’t ever had anything remodeled before so I’ll trust your plan.”

Seth nodded, then retreated to the scaffolding.

Tina sent her an encouraging grin as she pointed toward the front door. “Looks like we’d better open.”

Emma was startled to see two customers waiting patiently on the sidewalk. Heavens! She felt as though days had passed since she’d awakened that morning rather than mere hours.

As she hurried to unlock the door, Emma sensed she was embarking on more change than she’d counted on.

After more than a week at the costume shop, Seth felt the days passing quickly, much faster than the evenings here at home.

He had discovered both good and bad in Emma’s hundred-plus-year-old shop. Some previous repairs had been done well, others were questionable.

And he found himself thinking too much about the worry that had settled in Emma’s expression. He’d had previous customers who worried during the expansion process. But Emma was different. For such an independent business woman, he sensed she was unusually vulnerable.

It wasn’t something he’d commented on. He didn’t intend to. Despite also being her neighbor, Seth preferred to think of their relationship as strictly business.

Staring into his freezer, Seth wasn’t inspired by any of the frozen entrées. And he couldn’t face another hamburger. He took out one of the TV dinners, not particularly caring what it was. As he closed the freezer door, he glanced out the kitchen window. A small flurry of movement caught his eye. If he wasn’t mistaken, one of Emma’s hole-in-the-wall gang had escaped again.

He could pick up the phone, call Emma and let her deal with the dog. Instead, he dropped the uninviting TV dinner on the counter, then headed outside. Sundance dug at the siding of his house. He remembered Emma’s mention of mice. Maybe she was right.

Seth squatted down. “What do you have there, boy?”

Sundance spared him a glance, apparently decided he was no threat, then resumed his digging.

“I’m guessing Emma wouldn’t be thrilled if you brought home a mouse.” Seth considered letting him continue, but dirt was flying into the terrier’s white fur. “Okay, Sundance, time to go home.”

Seth picked up the dog, which, although startled, didn’t growl or try to bite. Chuckling, Seth decided the dog simply looked annoyed. Probably already plotting his next escape.

The gate to the backyard was latched when Seth opened it. No telling where the dog had crawled through. Seth carried him over to the back door and knocked.

Immediately he heard a crash inside, followed by loud, furious barking. He hesitated for only a second. Turning the knob, he called out as he entered. “Emma, it’s Seth McAllister. You all right?”

Emma stood by the kitchen sink, shattered bits of china at her feet. But it was her expression that caught Seth’s attention. Fear. Not the fleeting kind that said she’d just been startled. This was a sickening fear that still held her frozen.

“Emma?”

Her mouth opened, her tongue moistened her lips, but no sound emerged.

“I’m sorry I scared you.” He held up Sundance. “I found him by the side of my house.”

She finally focused on her dog. “Oh. I didn’t know he’d gotten out….” She pushed the hair back from her forehead. “Um, thank you.”

“Sure.” Her fear was still visible, eerily real.

She was reaching for control, though. “I’m sorry he bothered you.”

Instinctively he knew it wasn’t time for a flip answer. “He didn’t. I spotted him from my kitchen.”

“Oh.” She held out her arms and Seth handed her the dog. She hugged Sundance, then looked down at the shards of china on the floor.

“Why don’t I help you sweep this up, keep the dogs from cutting their feet.” As he spoke, Butch took a protective step toward Emma.

“Stay,” Emma commanded him.

Spotting the pantry, Seth pointed to it. “Broom in there?”

“Yes, but you don’t have to—”

“No big deal.” He crossed the floor and quickly located the broom, making short work of the mess. But as he was finishing, Seth noticed a few spots of blood on the floor. He glanced up. “You must have gotten cut.”

“I don’t think so.”

“It was either you or Butch.”

Emma released Sundance, then examined Butch. But the dog wasn’t cut.

“Your turn,” Seth told her.

“I’m fine,” she protested.

He pointed to the kitchen chair. Reluctantly, Emma complied. She wore cotton slacks and sandals. Kneeling, he slipped the shoes off her feet and immediately saw the wound.

“It’s your heel.”

She twisted her foot to look. “No wonder I didn’t see it.”

“Where’s your first-aid kit?”

“Top shelf of the pantry, next to the fire extinguisher. But I can fix this myself.”

He rose, crossing the kitchen. “Don’t be a hero. That’s got to hurt.”

“It’s okay,” she insisted.

But he wasn’t convinced. The first-aid kit contained everything he needed. As he applied the iodine, Emma didn’t react as if there was pain. But he saw a fair-sized chip of porcelain imbedded in her skin. Using tweezers from the kit he pulled it out. Emma couldn’t help flinching.

Gently, he taped the gauze bandage in place. “That should hold it.”

She still looked unnerved. “Thanks. I’m not usually so careless.”

He shrugged. “You weren’t expecting someone to pound on your back door when it was nearly dark. I wasn’t thinking. Did I ruin your dinner?”

“No. Just about to start on the salad dressing.” She pointed to the counter and a bowl of fresh greens.

“Homemade salad dressing?”

The hint of a smile touched her lips. “Have you eaten?”

He thought of the frozen entrée he’d abandoned. “Still working out my menu.”

“I have enough for two. Force of habit. I always make too much.”

For an instant he wanted to ask why. Had she once been married? Was that why pain lingered in her eyes? Had she loved someone who’d then hurt her? But the moment passed. There wasn’t a place in his life for those questions. Or her answers.

Meeting her gaze, Seth realized he didn’t have to go there. But he could share a simple meal. “Sounds better than my options at home.”

Her smile grew. “Good. I hope you like fried chicken.”

Until that moment he’d been focused on Emma and the crash he’d caused. Now he sniffed the air and his tastebuds stirred. “I didn’t know anybody still made chicken at home.”

She checked a sizzling pan on the stove. “There are a few old-fashioned holdouts who don’t go to the Colonel.”

Old-fashioned? Emma? Then again, perhaps that wasn’t a bad thing. “Can I help?”

“You can set another place at the table. Plates are in the cabinet above the dishwasher.”

It was easy to find what he needed. Although her cabinets weren’t as lean as his, she didn’t have an overabundance of dishes or kitchen tools. She seemed like the kind of person who would own treasured keepsakes from previous generations. Instead everything seemed relatively new.

The bistro-size kitchen table that sat in the curve of the bay window was just big enough for two people. She obviously didn’t expect much company. It was covered with a cheerful cloth, but the solitary plate looked lonesome.

She turned toward him, a rueful expression on her face. “I can’t eat fried chicken without mashed potatoes. Just one big plate of cholesterol, I’m afraid.”

“Doesn’t the salad counteract that?”

“Good try,” she replied, handing him a steaming bowl.

It didn’t take long to dish up the food and they were soon sitting at the table. “Looks delicious.”

“Thank you.” She put her hands together in a well-remembered position. “Would you bless our meal?”

Seth gritted his teeth, biting back his gut response. “It’s your home.”

Curiosity flashed across her face but she nodded and then uttered a short prayer. She was too polite to ask, and offered him the platter of chicken.

It tasted as good as it smelled, but Seth was still uncomfortable. And he remained tense, expecting to be quizzed.

Again Emma surprised him. “Do you like dogs?”

He blinked, then looked over at her pair of canines. “Sure.”

“Are you thinking of getting one?”

Seth hadn’t owned a dog since he was a child. He’d wanted to get one for his son, Davy, but his ex-wife was allergic to them. “Not really. Why?”

“I know Sundance has been a nuisance. And for some reason he’s drawn to your yard. I thought if you had a dog he might be content to play through the fence. Now I’m wondering if I should build a second barrier of some sort behind the fence so he can’t crawl through.”

“There’s no need to do that.” He saw that the dog was eyeing them with interest, no doubt having recognized his name.

“I don’t want to annoy you.”

He lifted a forkful of fluffy potatoes. “It’s a fair trade. Sundance can roam all he wants if I get homemade fried chicken once in a while.”

She hesitated, then nodded. “Deal.”

He wondered at her reservation. “Don’t worry about the dogs. You’re not obligated to any future meals.”

She lifted her head sharply, her face suddenly distressed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that you’re not welcome at my table.”

Emma was so contrite, so disturbed that Seth found himself surprisingly touched. “Surrounded by a meal like this, it would be difficult to feel unwelcome.”

She fiddled with her water glass. “You can probably tell I don’t have a lot of company for dinner. Not that I haven’t made friends in Rosewood. I have. Really good ones. Like Tina, who you met.” Emma paused. It wasn’t that she was out of breath, it seemed. More like she was out of words. Then she glanced down. “But I guess I’ve become accustomed to being on my own a lot, and not dependent on anyone else. It’s easier to stand alone than to get used to leaning.” Suddenly she shook her head. “I apologize again. You didn’t volunteer to be my analyst.”

“I live alone, too.”

“Which is a good reason to have a dog. People don’t think you’re as crazy talking to a dog.”

He looked over at the mischievous pup. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Her mood had lifted and he wanted to keep it that way. And he refused to examine why. Or to dwell on the notion that she needed protecting.