Protected Hearts

By the next evening, Emma’s list had grown beyond her expectations. A special nook for her drafting table would make her job much easier. She could keep her designs separate from the stock and sewing areas. Now that she’d finally decided on the addition, she was growing excited.

She could expand her designs, produce an even greater diversity of costumes. Butch stood on his hind legs and nudged her knee with his nose, seeking attention.

“Am I ignoring you?” she asked, rubbing his ears.

His expression said he adored her regardless.

Still, she wandered into the kitchen, opening the jar of dog treats. Sundance had followed them and sat beside Butch wanting a goody, too. Emma obliged.

As she put the jar back on the counter she glanced outside. The lights were on next door at Seth’s. She wondered if he’d begun her sketches. Emma picked up the list she’d been working on, itching to show it to him.

It wasn’t late. Before she could change her mind Emma marched out the door. Keeping to the neighborly route, she knocked on his kitchen door.

After a few moments, Seth jerked open the door, startled to see her there.

That’s when it occurred to her that she was being presumptuous. “I hope I’m not interrupting.” Lamely she held up the paper. “You said you wanted a list of any changes I could think of.”

“Right. Uh, come in.”

Wishing she hadn’t been so impulsive, Emma entered gingerly. “You know, I could just give you the list, let you read it over.”

“It would be better if we discuss it. Then I can be sure I understand what you want.”

What she wanted right now was to have resisted the urge to dash over here. “Okay.”

He led her through the kitchen to the living room. The only furnishings in the bare room were a large drafting table and a computer desk. He must have gone through a divorce. No one got to their thirties without collecting more than this. Unless it was all lost in a fire.

He pulled the chair from the desk, scooting it next to the drafting table. “Have a seat. I want you to see what I’ve drawn up so far.”

As she did, he straddled the stool in front of the drafting table and once again she was seated within inches of him. Seth didn’t seem to notice, however. The light on top of the board was already on and she realized he must have been working on the plans when she arrived.

She recognized her shop. True to his word, he’d kept the integrity of the architecture. Her gaze was drawn to other specifics, though. “You’ve moved the sales counter, too.”

“It seems crowded now at the front door.” Seth pointed to one side of the sketch. “I’ve opened that space for display area. Instead of only hanging costumes against the walls, you could run two rows where the counter is now. And moving the counter farther back will give you handier access to the new storeroom. You’ll be able to check deliveries without leaving the sales counter.”

She tilted her head, studying the sketch. “When I first opened the shop, I liked greeting customers as they came in, but it has gotten awkward as the space filled up.”

“That and some customers would probably prefer to browse on their own when they first come inside. But you can still keep it personal. Add a few overstuffed chairs and side tables to the alcove. It would give your male customers a place to chill while their wives and girlfriends go through all the racks.”

She smiled at him. “Purse-holders, I call them.”

“Exactly. And they’ll be more patient if you stock a few magazines that don’t have dating quizzes, diets or anything called shabby chic.”

Emma laughed, amused by his accurate description. “Fish & Stream be all right?”

“Yep.”

“I definitely like the idea of the sitting area.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if we find a fireplace walled up in the shop, as well.”

“Really?”

“The age of the building tells me it should have a fireplace. The furnace is a later addition.”

“A fireplace could be a great focal point,” she mused.

“What would you think of enlarging the front windows?”

She looked at him with wonder. “That was on my list. Now that I’m doing window design as well, my own displays should be an advertisement.”

“I was thinking bay windows.”

Ooh. Emma loved bay windows. “I can see the curve of the glass, almost like a Victorian curio cabinet! Is that what you mean?”

Surprise lit his eyes. “That’s exactly what I meant.”

Emma warmed beneath his appraising gaze. “I told you I get all caught up in design.”

“So what else is on this list of yours?”

She explained the nook she envisioned for her drafting table.

“That should be situated somewhere quiet. What if it’s part of your office?”

“But I don’t have an office.”

Seth pulled out a second sketch. “The attic isn’t being used for much more than your furnace and duct work. It’s a waste. But I can’t see it being used for display or dressing area. It’s a half story higher than your main level. If we close off the furnace room, we could open up the other part, section off an office/design area for you and a second smaller office.”

“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.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.