Protected Hearts. Bonnie K. Winn

and Sundance burst free.

      Standing on his back legs, the dog pawed Emma’s knees until she picked him up. “You rascal,” she chided.

      Satisfied that he was still at the center of her affection, Sundance yelped to be released.

      “Does he do this sort of thing often?” Seth asked, dusting off his jeans.

      Chagrined both by her dog’s actions and her own suspicions, Emma tried to smile as she put Sundance down. “Animals can be a bit unpredictable.” The words were scarcely out of her mouth when the dog latched on to the leg of Seth’s pants, growling again.

      “Sundance!” Now thoroughly embarrassed, Emma reached out to unfasten the dog’s grip. “I’m really sorry.”

      The man’s face was too shadowed to tell if he was amused or angry. “Looks like he needs to learn not to bite the hand that rescues him.”

      Probably, but she didn’t appreciate the criticism. And the tartness of her feelings crept into her voice as she grabbed the dog again. “Thank you for retrieving Sundance.” She wrenched out the rest. “And…I’m sorry he didn’t seem grateful.”

      “It’s all right. Now you just have to decide whether I really live here or not.” Turning, Seth left as quietly as he’d arrived.

      And Emma’s fear came snaking back. Clutching her dog close, she ran. And didn’t look back.

      Chapter Two

      Seth couldn’t stop thinking of Emma’s face. It had been filled with fear as she had scurried back to her own house.

      What were the chances that she’d live next door? Well, it was a small town. Smaller than he’d realized.

      Back inside, the house seemed even emptier. Of course it was empty. He hadn’t brought anything with him from the city other than his clothes. After the divorce, he’d walked away from the house he and Carla had furnished with such optimism and promise. Every room, every object contained a memory he couldn’t bear to take with him. So he’d rented a furnished apartment. Things he had no connection with.

      He intended to buy what he needed in Rosewood. But his needs were less these days, his life leaner. In truth, bleaker. But the truth wasn’t an easy companion.

      Glancing around the lackluster house, he wondered if he should have bought instead of renting. Then he’d have something to do with himself. But he had no interest in reworking a house for his own use. No matter what he did with it, the place wouldn’t be a home. That was gone forever.

      Seth considered his choices. Takeout from the local burger place, reading by flashlight or calling it a night. Without electricity, television wasn’t an option. Venturing back into town held no appeal.

      Glancing out the kitchen window, he saw all the lights ablaze in Emma’s house. Nervous type. Maybe she was a small-town spinster, spooked by her own shadow. But when he’d looked into her eyes that afternoon, he hadn’t gotten that impression. He’d seen something he recognized.

      He shook his head. He didn’t even know if she was single. She could be married or engaged.

      As he opted for his sleeping bag and an early night, Emma’s face flashed through his thoughts. He doubted she was married. She seemed far too alone.

      The shop was nuts. Emma had agreed to make costumes for both the local community theater’s adult production as well as their children’s play. While thrilled with the business, she and Tina were crowding each other. And they were running out of space to store the costumes. Plus, the high school’s production wasn’t too far away.

      Tina squeezed one more costume on the already tightly packed display rack. “Emma, face it. Either we get more space or we have to cut back on orders.”

      It was a decision Emma had been avoiding for some time. But things were coming to a head. “Which would you vote for?”

      “You know me, boss. I like being busy.”

      Emma felt the same way. “But what if I expand and the business falls off?”

      Tina reached for a piece of chalk, marking a hem. “Executive decision, not my bag. But I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

      “Maybe just a small expansion,” Emma suggested, her tone as tentative as her words.

      Tina rolled her eyes. “Isn’t that an oxymoron?”

      But change was difficult for Emma. Since her life had been twisted inside out, she clung to the familiar. “I suppose.”

      Tina scribbled on the tag that accompanied the order. “By fall carnival, we won’t be able to turn around in here.”

      “Good point.” Emma glanced around at the familiar but compact space. Cindy had been urging her to expand for months, confident that Try It On was only going to be more successful, especially since the community theater had acquired a wealthy benefactor.

      Adam Benson, a well-known oil man who split his time between L.A. and Houston, had retired to the Hill Country. He had a passion for the arts and didn’t see why moving away from a major center of culture meant he had to be deprived of good theater. He’d endowed the local community theater, donating enough to build a new playhouse. His generosity also enabled them to purchase first-rate costumes. She had enough work to keep her shop busy all year.

      Emma frowned as she looked at the overflowing storage space. The community theater now staged six annual productions plus a Christmas play. That was a lot of costumes, which she was in charge of archiving. Where was she going to put them?

      The bell over the door tinkled as it opened. The UPS delivery man wheeled in a dolly stacked with boxes. The cartons filled the last bit of empty floor space by the counter. She stifled a groan. Maybe she could add a room. Certainly she could get a few estimates, see if the cost was within reason.

      Tina glanced at the latest delivery and then at Emma.

      She had to get those estimates now, before the shop literally grew through the roof.

      By the time they had sorted out the day’s orders and deliveries, it was growing late. It was dark when she drove home. Again, Emma saw candlelight flickering next door. But rather than instilling fear, this time it triggered guilt. Seth must be her new neighbor—no one burgled the same place two nights in a row. Which meant she hadn’t been very neighborly. Especially since he appeared to still be without power.

      She ought to make the effort, cook something for dinner, take it over.

      Keeping to her routine, she put the dogs out back—after making certain the gate was firmly closed. Of course, if Sundance smelled something, he’d find a way out. She could have put them in the dog run, a chain-link enclosure with a roof, which they couldn’t escape from. But she didn’t like to limit them to the small space. She watched her dogs carefully, herding them back inside before Sundance could wander.

      As soon as they were in the kitchen, she turned all the locks on the back door with a shiver of relief. Her resolve weakening, she opened the refrigerator. She could defrost some chicken. There were enough ingredients in her pantry to assemble some sort of dish to offer her new neighbor. But she thought of the flickering candlelight, the fear she’d felt the previous evening. Closing her eyes, she sank back against the counter.

      And her resolve disappeared altogether.

      Over the next week Seth distributed more of his business cards than he’d expected to. Still, he was surprised by the phone call from Michael Carlson, setting up today’s meeting. Carlson owned the largest construction company in the region.

      Sitting across the desk from him, Michael was gracious but forthright with his proposition. “I get a lot of calls from people who need work done, but the job’s not big enough to dedicate a crew to it. I’d like to have someone reliable who I can refer. Luke over at the hardware store gave me a call, told me about you.”

      “In