Taking On Twins. Carolyn Zane

look on his face when he’d looked at Annie. It was almost as if they’d known each other. But Wyatt had never lived in Wyoming, so that couldn’t be it.

      Her thoughts were distracted by the front door’s bell.

      Lean and lanky, Toby Atkins, Keyhole’s resident law officer, pushed through the glass door, his gaze searching for, and immediately landing on, Emily. His boyishly handsome face lit up at the sight of her, and Emily returned his smile.

      She moved behind the counter to pour him his usual cup of coffee. “Pie?” she asked, as he straddled a stool on the other side of the counter. “We’ve got your favorite. Lemon meringue.”

      “How can I say no?” Toby’s fond gaze followed her as she cut his pie and found him a fork.

      “So,” Emily asked, as she set his plate before him, “what’s new, Toby?”

      “Nothing much. I did want to mention to you that there have been some reports of petty thievery in the Nettle Creek area. So, I thought I’d swing past your place several times each night on my nightly rounds for while. Thought it might be a good idea, all things considered, but I didn’t want you to worry if you saw me.”

      “I don’t worry when you’re on the job, Toby,” she said gently, and meant it.

      His fair features flushed a charming shade of red.

      Emily knew that Toby believed he was falling for her. It was evident in his smile, the way his gaze followed her as she worked, the interest he’d taken in her.

      Even now, she could feel his deep blue gaze protectively following her every move. Emily caught his eye and they exchanged an awkward, bashful moment. He was such a darling. And she was exceedingly relieved and grateful that he was taking such care with her safety.

      But that was all. When it came to returning his feelings, Emily wished she could. Toby was a good man. One of the best. Her smile grew melancholy. Unfortunately, she was simply not in love with him.

      Annie Summers felt the tips of her ears grow fiery hot and a tingle spread from the base of her spine throughout her entire body. Light-headed, she took several steps backward until she bumped into the ornately carved arm of a settee, which she grabbed onto to keep from slumping to the ground.

      The man who stood silhouetted in the door looked exactly like Wyatt Russell, but the shadows that fell across his familiar face made it impossible to tell for sure.

      No, she assured herself. It couldn’t be. Wyatt here in Keyhole? Impossible. He was in Washington D.C., making a name for himself as a hotshot lawyer. He had no business here in Wyoming. It had to be her imagination playing tricks on her. She simply had Wyatt on the brain because she thought she’d heard his voice in the restaurant.

      Marshaling her powers of concentration, she donned her most professional smile, smoothed her wacky hairdo and forced herself to move to the front door.

      “Hi. May I help you?”

      “Annie?”

      Her breath caught in her throat. Okay, this was just too weird. This guy not only sounded exactly like Wyatt, he knew her name. “Yes?” More rattled than ever, she squinted into the sunlight, slowly sidestepping, looking for a spot in the shade to better help her see.

      “It’s good to see you.”

      She wished she could say the same. “I—uh—”

      “It’s me.”

      “Oh.” It was Wyatt. The scar upon her heart tore open again, making her defensive. Vulnerable. Disoriented. “Hello.”

      “Hello.”

      He took a step toward her into the shadows and she could suddenly see that the person in question was indeed the Wyatt of old. And, except for a few lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth, he looked exactly the same as he had the day they’d said goodbye. His still-steely arms were crossed over his still-steely chest, and he leaned against an armoire in that still nearly cocky manner she knew so well.

      However, under his confident pose lurked the same uncertainty she was feeling and this emboldened her even as myriad emotions warred within her mind. Extreme joy and, at the same time, extreme agitation. Agitation bordering on fury.

      How dare he come waltzing in here after she’d taken so many years to purge him from her heart?

      And without calling first?

      Her hands traveled to her hair, tucking, fussing, smoothing. The unmitigated audacity. Showing up, out of the blue and still irresistible.

      Well, she could resist him now. She’d had plenty of time to fortify her defenses over the years. She wished she would have freshened her lipstick, and changed her mustard-stained blouse, after she ate. For heaven’s sake, she must look a sight. She wanted to run and hide under the little tent in the playroom with her boys. From here, their voices rang out, giggling, bickering, bossing.

      Save for the two of them and the boys, the store was empty. Silent. Annie was sure he could hear her heart knocking against her ribs.

      “What are you doing here?” she ventured when she finally found her voice.

      “Had some business in the area and thought I’d stop in and say hi.”

      He had business in the area? Business in Keyhole? “Hi?”

      “And to see how you were doing.”

      “I’m…uh, fine.” At least she was a minute ago.

      “So.” His arm swept the showroom floor of her store. “This is where you work.”

      She could only guess that the soft tone in his voice indicated pity. He’d moved on to the big time, and she’d never left Keyhole. Instead of taking the New York art galleries by storm, her paintings hung on the walls of her family’s shop, alongside the work of other amateur artists.

      “Yes. I run the store and refinish furniture. And, in my spare time, I still like to paint.”

      “You were always good, Annie. Very good.”

      “I…thank you.” But not good enough to make it out of Keyhole, he was probably thinking. She licked her lips and squaring her shoulders, tried to appear a little taller. More confident. Put together. Lord only knew how she compared to the sleek, well-dressed career women in Washington D.C.

      Wyatt pushed off the armoire and began to wander a bit, looking here and there, pausing to pick up an object and then set it back down. She wondered what he thought of her little shop. Following his movements with her gaze, she tried to see what it might look like through his eyes.

      Quaint, to be sure. Smallish. Homey. Creatively decorated. Inviting. Cheerful. Cluttered. Almost too cluttered. Rather messy, actually. For the first time, she noticed that the boys had left toys strewn about, and that Chopper was shedding black Lab hair in fluffy tufts in the aisles where he liked to doze when the kids would let him.

      In a shaft of sunlight, the cobwebs that she hadn’t seen before this very minute were quite visible, as was the slight layer of dust that coated…everything. All mirrors from the level of four feet on down sported streaks and fingerprints. Have mercy, didn’t she ever clean this place? She allowed her eyes to slide closed in order to hide her disgust.

      Summer’s Autumn Antiques was a pit. A glorified junk shop. Nothing like the places she was sure Wyatt must frequent in D.C.

      Once again, Annie wished she’d had time to check her appearance in the mirror. Heaven only knew if there was a chive or something stuck in her tooth.

      “You get a lot of business on Saturdays?” he asked conversationally as he turned to face her.

      Oh, my. Annie’s heart did a little flip. She’d have thought that by now she’d become impervious to that curl in his upper lip. “Some. It’s late in the winter season and early in the summer season, so we’re kind of…between seasons.”

      He