Can his safe haven be enough for her?

Emma Meadows never imagined that sticking to her principles against an act of corruption by a New York senator would cost her her job as VP of communications. Heartbroken, she retreats to her cottage in the Adirondacks to lick her wounds and, in the process, rescues an injured dog that only Josh Whitmore can save.

The veterinarian works diligently to bring dog and woman back to full fighting form, until allegations against the senator become more serious. Seeing Emma’s reaction to the increasing pressure, Josh realizes that inevitably she’ll find a way back to the top...and he’ll likely lose her for good.

She thought she wanted things to stay the way they were. Friends.

She could almost see the words forming on his lips, so she rushed in with the first thing that came to mind. “What would you like for dinner tonight? Never mind. I’ll take care of it. All you have to do is select the wine and uncork it.”

Josh ran his finger gently along the side of her face. “Emma...”

“After dinner I’d like to take the dogs for a long walk and watch the sun set from the granite rock. How does that sound to you?” she continued in near desperation.

“Emma...” he began again.

She knew she was jabbering on, but couldn’t seem to control it. “If I’m going to make dinner, I should get started.”

“Emma, listen to me—”

She was ready to interrupt again, but he forestalled her by closing his mouth over hers in a long and achingly tender kiss.

Dear Reader,

Welcome to Sanctuary Cove!

In my acknowledgments, I noted that Sanctuary Cove serves as an inflection point in terms of my editorial partnership. It is also the start of a new miniseries, set in the fictitious town of Sanctuary Cove in the Adirondack Mountains region. My last three releases comprised my K-9 trilogy, following the lives and loves of three San Diego Police Department K-9 officers. Although I’m thrilled to share with fans of the “trilogy” that it has now officially become a series, since there are more K-9 books to come, I enjoy variety in my writing and wanted to offer some to my readers.

While striving to write stories that are both emotionally and intellectually satisfying, I like to have my characters tackle some real-life, relatable issues, and you’ll find this to be the case in Sanctuary Cove. For those of you who’ve enjoyed getting to know the furry, four-legged characters in some of my previous books, with hero Josh Whitmore being a veterinarian and heroine Emma Meadows a passionate advocate of all creatures, you might find an animal character or two in Sanctuary Cove that’ll also capture your heart.

If you would like to use Sanctuary Cove for your book club, you can find discussion questions on my website, www.kate-james.com.

As always, I would love to hear from you! You can connect with me through my website above, at www.Facebook.com/katejamesbooks or Twitter.com/katejamesbooks, or mail me at PO Box 446, Schomberg, ON, L0G 1T0, Canada.

Happy reading!

Kate

Sanctuary Cove

Kate James

www.millsandboon.co.uk

KATE JAMES spent much of her childhood abroad before attending university in Canada. She built a successful business career, but her passion has always been literature. As a result, Kate turned her energy to her love of the written word. Kate’s goal is to entertain her readers with engaging stories featuring strong, likable characters. Kate has been honored with numerous awards for her writing. She and her husband, Ken, enjoy traveling and the outdoors with their beloved Labrador retrievers.

This book is dedicated to the late James Ingram, beloved husband of Paula Eykelhof and father of Emma Ingram.

Acknowledgments

Sanctuary Cove serves as an inflection point for me. It’s midway through the development of this story that Paula Eykelhof, my editor since I started writing for Harlequin, passed the baton to my new editor, Kathryn Lye. Paula is renowned in the publishing industry for being an editor extraordinaire and having worked with many, if not most, of the biggest names in women’s fiction and romance. I was truly privileged to have had the opportunity of working with Paula until her retirement at the end of June 2016. Paula, I cannot begin to express my appreciation to you for how much you taught me and for the great pleasure it was to work with you.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

RAIN BATTERED THE sidewalk as Emma paused under the canopy by the entrance to the post office. She pulled the hood of her windbreaker low over her forehead and made a quick dash to the parking lot. Even so, she was drenched by the time she climbed into her SUV.

Poetic justice, she thought, that the sky had burst open while she’d been inside, arranging to send the signed agreement of purchase and sale back to Richard. That last tenuous link to her former fiancé was now irrevocably severed. As of the end of the month, the house she and Richard had planned to live in after they got married would belong to someone else.

Emma had picked up the envelope containing the documents just a couple of hours earlier, while weak rays of sunshine were still fighting their way through the thickening clouds. Richard had sent only the agreement—no note, no transmittal letter. What had she expected? “So sorry it didn’t work out? It was fun while it lasted?”

There was no personal connection whatsoever.

Perhaps it was better, more honest that way.

Emma shoved back her hood, splattering water everywhere, including on her copy of the agreement, which she’d left on the middle console.

“Great. Just great.”

She wiped off the moisture before tossing the document on the passenger seat. In a gesture she knew Richard would’ve said was indicative of her inability to control her temper, she tugged the elastic band from her ponytail and pushed her sopping hair back from her face. When she started the engine, the sudden blast of cold air against her damp skin had her fumbling to shut off the air-conditioning.

What a difference a few hours and some miserable rain made.

Her wipers swished wildly as she pulled out of the parking lot. By the time she turned off the highway onto Otter Creek Road, her headlights were useless through the dense sheets of rain and swirling fog. The plump drops of water caught and tossed the light back at her.

Out of deference to the dismal weather, she kept her speed to a crawl as she wound her way along the gravel road toward her cottage.

With the next swipe of the wipers, a flash of color caught her attention.

She’d just convinced herself that her eyes had been playing tricks on her when she saw it again.

“Oh, my God,” she whispered, as she eased her SUV to the shoulder behind the gray-and-red form sprawled at the side of the road.

Yanking the hood of her windbreaker back over her head, Emma hopped out of the vehicle and rushed toward the animal. A low growl had her slowing her approach.

She couldn’t be sure if the animal was a dog or a wolf, but she knew he needed medical attention for the deep gash in his hind leg and by the odd angle at which that leg protruded from his body.

“Shhh. It’s okay. I’m here to help. I won’t hurt you,” she murmured.

The animal pawed the ground with a front leg and twisted his head toward her. Keeping her distance, Emma stepped forward in an arc and eased into his field of vision.

She knew she couldn’t move him, not only because of his size, but also for fear of aggravating his wounds. With the persistent growl, weak as it was, she wasn’t certain he’d let her get that close.

But she had to do something to help him.

She reversed, slowly at first to avoid startling him, then ran back to her SUV. Grabbing her cell phone, she searched for the contact information for the local veterinarian she’d saved in case she needed it for her Alaskan malamute, Max. She found the after-hours emergency number and pushed Send.

Heedless of the rain, she paced impatiently beside her vehicle as the phone rang and rang. “Come on, come on. Pick up your phone.”

On the sixth ring, her persistence paid off. A deep male voice answered.

“Is this Doctor...” She had the number programmed under veterinarian and couldn’t remember his name. It didn’t really matter. “Are you the veterinarian?”

“Yeah. Doctor Whitmore,” he responded. “Joshua Whitmore. What can I do for you?”

“My name’s Emma Meadows. There’s been an accident. A dog—or possibly a wolf. He’s been hit. He’s bleeding and his leg’s broken. But he’s alive and he’s in a lot of pain.” She knew she was babbling, but she couldn’t help it. Animals were her soft spot. She walked back toward the dog as she spoke, and with a sinking heart noted that the feeble growl had been replaced by whimpers and shallow breathing.

“Where are you?” The veterinarian’s voice had an edge to it.

“Otter Creek Road. Just south of the highway.”

“I’m on my way. I should be there in ten to fifteen minutes. Stay with him. Try to keep him calm but do not, do not,” he repeated, “touch him or get too close to him. Injured animals can be unpredictable.”

* * *

JOSH DISCONNECTED BEFORE the woman had a chance to respond. He hoped she would heed his caution. If she was negligent enough to hit an animal, she might be foolish enough to put herself at risk, too, he thought unkindly.

Having been in the shower when she’d called, Josh ran a hand through his wet hair.

It wasn’t often he was in a bad mood, but after the long and grueling day he’d just had, topped off by Crystal playing more of her catty little games, all he’d wanted was a hot shower and a cold beer.

It didn’t look like he was going to be getting that beer anytime soon.

He silently cursed the woman for more than likely driving carelessly in the rotten weather and causing a helpless animal to suffer the consequences. Josh tossed the phone on the bed and dropped the damp towel that had been wrapped around his waist on the bathroom floor. He tugged on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, pulled on a rain slicker and jammed a New York Yankees baseball cap on his head.

Hurrying downstairs, he paused to ruffle the fur of the yellow Labrador retriever stretched out on the rug in the kitchen. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, Winston,” he said to the dog. “Hold down the fort, will you, pal?” he added as he grabbed his keys off the hook at the back door and rushed out into the dreary night.

He spared an irritated glance at the recent—and decidedly obscene—graffiti on the side of his garage as he sprinted to his Yukon, which was parked in front of the veterinary clinic that adjoined his house.

He hadn’t recognized the woman’s name, so she must not have been a local, he decided as he climbed into his truck. “Careless weekend cottager,” he grumbled under his breath and turned onto the highway. The Adirondack region had more than its fair share of them, in his opinion.

* * *

IT DIDN’T OCCUR to Emma to wait in the dry comfort of her vehicle. Thrusting her phone in her pocket, she moved closer to the animal. As he didn’t show any immediate signs of hostility this time, she cautiously knelt beside him. His head jerked toward her and he strained to emit a warning growl. Although a moan was the best he seemed to be able to manage, out of respect for the large white teeth that flashed in the glow of her headlights, Emma slumped back on her heels, putting a little more distance between them.

“It’s okay,” she soothed. “I know it must hurt terribly. Help is on the way.” Uncertain whether it was the words or her tone that caused it, she was gratified that he settled, but his breathing had become even more labored.

“Oh, no, you don’t. Don’t you give up!” she urged. “Hang in there.” Disregarding the veterinarian’s cautionary words, she held her hand out to let him scent it. Through slitted eyelids, the dog stared at her and sniffed her hand listlessly. Appearing to have passed the test, she reached forward slowly to stroke the matted fur of his neck.

He emitted a soft whine and shifted his head a fraction. Although his eyes were dull, he held Emma’s gaze a few moments longer before his eyelids drifted shut.

Continuing to pat him gently, Emma prayed fervently that he would have the strength to hold on until the veterinarian arrived.

And where the heck was the veterinarian?

* * *

THE HEAVY RAIN made the trip longer than Josh had anticipated. Driving in the nasty weather hadn’t improved his disposition. It was nearly twenty minutes from the time he’d hung up the phone to when he spotted the black, late-model, luxury SUV parked on the shoulder of Otter Creek Road. And the woman huddled on the ground in front of it, stroking the animal. A set of choice words raced through his mind. It would be her own fault if she was bitten. Pulling up behind the BMW X5, he grabbed his medical bag and climbed out of his ancient Yukon.

The woman was hunched over the still form of the animal, as if trying to shield him from the worst of the downpour with her own body. There was a sadness about her—evident in her posture, the slope of her shoulders—that tore at his heart. When she glanced up at him with shimmering eyes, huge in her pale face, something shifted inside him.

He hoped he wasn’t too late. That he wouldn’t be deprived of the opportunity to save the animal. For the animal’s sake, as much as the woman’s.

“Josh Whitmore,” he said when he reached her, and extended a hand.

“Emma Meadows,” she responded in a voice so soft, the rain nearly drowned her out. “Thank you for coming.” She briefly placed a chilled and wet hand into his, then inched back to make room for him.

She seemed so fragile, so distraught, but she wasn’t his problem, he reminded himself.

Josh lowered to one knee and noted immediately the dog’s labored breathing. The animal was still alive, as he’d hoped, but he wasn’t certain if that was a blessing or a curse, depending on the extent of his injuries. The dog’s hind leg had sustained the worst of it. He had a closed fracture, meaning the bone was broken but the overlying skin hadn’t been pierced. There was a large laceration on his flank, too. Josh needed to find out if there were additional internal injuries. Those would create the greatest risk. He pulled a syringe and a small vial out of his bag, and administered a sedative.

Giving the drug a chance to take effect, Josh ran his hands along the creature’s torso. He was relieved that he didn’t detect any other obvious signs of trauma. He quickly dressed the cut to stop the bleeding. Next, he splinted the leg temporarily, so he could transport the dog to his clinic without exacerbating the break.

Having done all he could for the dog right now, Josh turned his attention to the woman.

She was soaked. Her long blond hair was plastered to her head despite her hood. He was three inches over six feet, but they were nearly eye-to-eye, kneeling beside each other. Disheveled as she was, he was struck by her beauty. She had large, almond-shaped eyes, the color indiscernible in the muted light, a small, straight nose, sharp, well-angled cheekbones and a generous, wide mouth.

A mouth that at present was frowning at him.

Josh ignored the frown. Not so easily, he also ignored the sudden tug of attraction. He tried to imagine what she’d look like if she smiled, before he reminded himself that slick city girls weren’t his type. Crystal had taught him that lesson well.

Emma interrupted his thoughts. “Is he going to be all right?” Her voice broke on the final word.

Josh felt an unexpected need to comfort, but he couldn’t lie. “His leg’s in bad shape. He’s lost a lot of blood. I’ll know better once I’ve had a chance to properly examine him.”

She nodded slowly. “Is it okay to move him?”

“I don’t have a choice. I’ve immobilized the leg so he should be fine. His best chance is for me to get him to my clinic and ascertain if he has any internal injuries.”

“How can I help?” she asked, as they both rose. She was tall, probably around five-ten, he guessed.

Josh swiped at the water dripping from the brim of his cap and gestured toward his truck. “Open the back, if you don’t mind. The latch is on the bottom. In the center. There’s a blanket in there. Spread it out so I can put him on it.” As she was about to move away, he touched her shoulder. She swung around, her eyes meeting his. He felt that tug again. “Take this, too, please,” he added and handed her his medical bag.

Josh lifted the dog as gently as he could, carried him to his truck and placed him on the blanket. “I’m going to help you, pal. Just hold on a while longer, okay?” Time was of the essence, especially if there were internal injuries. He turned to Emma. “I’ll do what I can,” he assured her.

“I’ll follow you. I know where the clinic is.”

He hadn’t expected that. He’d assumed she would’ve considered her penance done and head home—glad to get out of the storm.

“I won’t get in your way,” she said quickly before he could respond. “I just want to know he’ll be fine.”

Definitely not what he’d expected. Josh pursed his lips and nodded slowly. “All right, but try not to hit anything else,” he said, as he climbed into his truck. He immediately wished he could’ve bitten the harsh words back. He wasn’t a mean-spirited person, but there was something about her that poked at him.

CHAPTER TWO

EMMA SCRAMBLED INTO her own vehicle and made a quick U-turn. As she followed the diffused glow of the Yukon’s taillights, Josh’s departing comment registered.

He thought she was responsible for the dog’s injuries! She was more likely to drive off a road and into a tree than hurt an animal.

It didn’t matter what the judgmental veterinarian believed, Emma consoled herself, as long as he saved the dog.

She spent well over an hour in the veterinary clinic’s reception area.

She’d hung her windbreaker on the hook by the door to dry. There was a coffee machine on a counter, and she took the liberty of preparing a pot. She sipped the cooling coffee from a paper cup and listened to the metallic clang of instruments from behind the closed door of the examination room. She could also hear the quiet murmur of the veterinarian’s deep voice, although the words were indistinct. The fact that he was talking to the animal, whether he was heard or not, pleased her. It showed compassion. That emotion was in stark contrast to his harsh treatment of her. Maybe he was one of those people who was good with animals and not with humans, she mused.

When the examination room door finally opened, Emma was on her feet by the time he stepped out.

She observed again—with an uneasy feeling—Josh’s quick perusal of her that she’d noticed at the side of the road when they’d first met. But she also saw the weariness and the unmistakable worry on his face.

He’d removed the baseball cap he’d worn earlier, leaving his dark hair curling just above his collar. He wiped his hands on a damp towel as he approached her, and she saw the towel was streaked with red.

Too much red.

Emma felt her stomach clench. She pressed a hand over it and tried to ignore the blood-soaked towel. She moved forward hesitantly. “How is he?”

“He’s still heavily sedated,” he responded. “I’ll keep him that way overnight, but he’s doing well under the circumstances. I surgically inserted a metal plate to repair the fracture and stitched up the laceration. It looked worse than it was. There’s no muscle damage. There are no signs of internal trauma or bleeding. If I’m right about that, he should recover fully.”

Emma blew out the breath she’d been holding. She took another step toward Josh. “Can I see him?”

“Sure.” He moved to the side, allowing her to walk by him and into the examination room, and followed her. Emma would have sworn she felt his gaze on her and it caused the back of her neck to tingle.

Ignoring the sensation, she noticed the stainless-steel examination table, scattered with instruments, gauze and soiled cloths. Her stomach tightened once more, nausea churned and she quickly looked away. Then she saw the dog through an open door.

He was sleeping peacefully on a thick blanket in the corner of the room, his head pillowed on a folded towel.

Relief washed over her and tears welled in her eyes. She turned away from both the dog and the man while she steadied herself. Once her emotions were under control, she asked, “Can I touch him?”

Josh shrugged. “The sedative will keep him asleep for hours. Go ahead.”

Emma crouched in front of the dog. She reached forward and gently stroked his head. “Aren’t you handsome? And you’re going to be as good as new in no time,” she whispered. Glancing up at Josh, she asked, “There won’t be any permanent damage?”

Josh nodded. “There shouldn’t be. He’ll need time to recover, though. After that he can gradually get back to normal activity.”

Emma turned to the dog. “Hear that? You’ll just have to take it easy for a while, but you’ll be fine,” she said reassuringly, speaking her thoughts out loud. “How could someone have done this to you and just left you there?”

She continued to stroke the dog gently for a few more minutes before rising.

When she looked at Josh, she noted his furrowed brow and wondered what she might have said now to annoy him. Regardless, she was grateful for what he’d done. “Thank you, for saving him.”

“It’s my job.”

Her gaze slid to the dog resting on the thick blanket and makeshift pillow, obviously having been placed there with thought and care. Just because Josh was lacking in social graces didn’t mean that she had to be. She smiled. “I believe it’s much more than that to you.”

“It’s what I do,” he said curtly and escorted Emma back into the reception area.

She retrieved her windbreaker from the hook by the door and reached into a pocket to pull out her wallet. “How much do I owe you?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No charge.”

“But—”

“No charge,” he repeated. “Consider it my good deed for the day.”

“Oh. Well... Thank you.” She put her wallet back into her pocket and pulled on her coat. “What will happen to him once he’s better?”

“I know most of the dogs around here. I don’t think he’s local. I’ll try to find his owner.”

“Is he a dog, then?”

“He appears to be, but he probably has some wolf in him, too.”

“And if you can’t find his owner?”

Josh’s protracted silence worried Emma. She immediately thought of an animal shelter—or worse. “I’ll take him,” she said quickly. “If you can’t find his owner, I’ll take him.”

Josh narrowed his eyes. “One step at a time. First, I’ll make sure he’s okay and try to locate his owner. If that doesn’t pan out, and if his temperament allows, we can talk about finding him a new home.”

Emma opened her mouth but ended up huffing out a breath. What Josh said made sense. “Can I check in with you to see how he’s doing?”

“Sure.” He lifted a business card from a small wooden stand on the counter. “You seem to know my after-hours emergency number.” As he offered the card to her, a quick grin lit up his face. The sharp planes and angles were transformed with its potency. “My office number is on there, in case you don’t have it and want to catch me next time when I’m not just stepping out of the shower.”

She studied his appearance for a moment. He had a wide, sturdy chin, an appealing nose with a slight bump, as if it had been broken at some point, strong, well-defined lips and perfectly straight white teeth. He was tall, with a solid, athletic build—broad shoulders, narrow hips and long legs. The sleeves of his sweatshirt were pushed up, revealing well-muscled arms. The thought of him in the shower made Emma blush.

Their fingers brushed as she accepted the card, and the contact sent a quick jolt through her system.

Stuffing the card in her pocket, she walked to the door. With her hand on the doorknob, she held his gaze. “Thanks again for what you did tonight. I’m sorry to have interfered with your evening. I’ll be in touch to check up on the dog.”

* * *

THROUGH THE GLASS insert of the door, Josh watched Emma head back into the storm. As tired as he’d been after treating the dog, it surprised him that the first thought he’d had seeing her in the reception area was that she was dazzling. In the harsh lights, he’d easily been able to make out the color of her eyes. They were gray. A deep, silvery gray.

Although he had always appreciated physical beauty, he’d never considered it his sole or primary focus. As such, he’d been astonished to feel another raw and powerful pull of attraction—especially in view of the situation. With Crystal’s most recent little escapade, hadn’t he just sworn off women for the time being?

Yet the tug was undeniably there.

Then he remembered something that had struck him as strange. When she’d been petting the dog, she’d said something about how someone could’ve hit the dog and left him. Josh had assumed that she was the one who’d hit the dog. What had he really had to base that on? Having seen her with the animal, her anguish apparent, it was likely he’d misjudged her.

She’d also offered to take the dog. Evidently, there was more to her than what met the eye.

He smiled as he walked back to his recovery room to check on his patient. It occurred to him that he was in a distinctly better mood than he had been before he’d ventured out that evening.

CHAPTER THREE

EMMA’S NIGHTMARES WERE MUDDLED. Richard, with his arm around an attractive brunette in a sundress, as Emma stood transfixed on the opposite side of a busy NYC street. The two of them laughing at her stupidity for believing he’d ever loved her...thought herself worthy of his love. The star-speckled evening gave way to a raging storm. A dog was lying injured and helpless at the side of the road, looking at her, imploring her to save him. As Emma’s anxiety and desperation became nearly unbearable, a tall, dark-haired man materialized through the sheets of rain, dry and unruffled, to save the dog—and to save her. When he touched her shoulder, then ran a hand along the length of her drenched hair and whispered that everything would be fine, she jerked awake, disoriented and breathless.

Sitting up, she reached for the bottle of water she habitually kept on her nightstand. After taking a long drink, she let out a heavy sigh and rested her forehead in the palm of her hand.

Max, her Alaskan malamute, was immediately beside her. His solicitousness dragged her out of the lingering daze of the nightmare. She gave him a hug and, noticing her bedside clock, rolled her eyes. It was only ten after five.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed. It would be hopeless trying to fall back to sleep. Looking out the window, she was pleased to see the sky had cleared.

“How about we have breakfast and go for a long run?” she asked Max.

Recognizing the words breakfast and run, two of his favorite things, Max danced with excitement until Emma got dressed and they headed downstairs.

The sun had gilded the sky an intense pink and gold by the time they ventured outside. The air was cool, and she welcomed the bite of it against her skin.

A flagstone walkway, flanked by gardens, made a sweeping arc around the southerly perimeter of the cottage from the back deck to the front porch and toward the parking area. Butterflies flitted and bees buzzed from bloom to bloom. The sights, the sounds and the sweet and spicy aroma of the flowers lifted Emma’s spirits.

A large and fit dog, Max loped easily by her side as she jogged up the driveway to where it crested before it sloped down again to join Otter Creek Road. She stopped and turned back. Her view was mostly unobstructed to the cottage, and where the property dropped off steeply to the small lake beyond it.

With the stillness of the air, the deep blue surface of the water was as smooth as glass and mirrored the wispy white clouds scattered across the sky. The vista from here never failed to take her breath away. It reinforced for her how right her decision to leave the city and move to her cottage in Sanctuary Cove had been.

She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, filling her nostrils with the earthy smells of wet soil and recently trimmed grass, before she and Max sprinted away.

It was past nine thirty by the time they returned to the cottage. After showering, Emma called the veterinary clinic. She was told by the woman who answered the phone that Josh was finishing with a patient and would take the call in a minute, if she wanted to hold.

When he came on the line, Emma immediately asked about the dog.

“He’s doing well.” Josh’s voice sounded pleasant. Even friendly. “Were you able to dry out from all the rain?” he asked.

Emma thought of the wet clothes she’d peeled off when she’d gotten back to the cottage the evening before and had yet to toss in the wash. “More or less,” she said. “Is it all right if I visit the dog?”

There was a brief hesitation. “I’d prefer if you’d leave it for today. I want him to get as much rest as he can to regain his strength and help the healing process.”

Emma gazed out the window at the bright sunshine and tried not to feel disappointed. Had she been counting that much on seeing the dog? Or...? No, it couldn’t have anything to do with the veterinarian.

“Are you still there, Emma?”

“Oh...yes, of course.”

“How about a counterproposal? If you don’t have plans, have lunch with me and I’ll update you on how our boy’s doing.”

She could hear the smile in his voice. His offer flustered her. “Ah, thanks...but I’m sure you’re busy and—and I have a number of things to do today.”

“Maybe some other time, then?”

“Maybe,” she said noncommittally.

After hanging up the phone, Emma leaned back in her chair. To her astonishment, she’d been tempted to say yes.

And what had kept her from agreeing? She’d avoided people since she’d arrived at her cottage nearly two months ago. All she’d been focused on was healing her wounds, and her work. What there was of it anyway.

She couldn’t keep living like a recluse indefinitely.

Josh was being friendly, that’s all. But even if he had been asking her out, where was the harm in it? With their house sold and the papers on their way back to Richard, that last connection to her ex-fiancé was gone. Thinking of Richard reminded her why she wasn’t interested.

Feeling her old insecurities bubble up, Emma was in no mood to concentrate on the brand proposal she’d been contracted to do. After she’d been let go from her job with communications giant Tyson, Myers and Smith, one of her former colleagues had put her in touch with the owner of a small but growing media relations company. In-house resources at Pinnacle Communications were at full capacity and they needed help. She’d agreed to freelance for them, but now she questioned the wisdom of doing so. Yes, the money had been a contributing factor to her decision. She couldn’t live on her savings and the proceeds from the sale of the house indefinitely.

But she didn’t know if she had the confidence in herself anymore to be able to do even the basic work that was expected of her. The brand proposal was a perfect example. A year ago—make that three months ago, even—she would have polished off the assignment in a day or two. Fast forward to the present, and she’d been struggling with it for a couple of weeks, and her deadline was looming.

And thinking of Tyson, Myers and Smith, where she’d worked for the majority of her career, most recently as a senior executive, brought her thoughts full circle to Richard, reporter Daniel Leighton and the assignment for Senator Alan Morgan that had resulted in her losing her job.

Emma brewed a pot of tea, poured a mug and settled in an armchair in the great room.

Senator Morgan was arguably one of the most high-profile politicians in the country next to the president, and it was a well-known fact that he had his sights set on the White House. Richard, a criminal defense attorney, had been working with the New York senator to address allegations of corruption that had been made against the senator regarding the award of a substantial armaments contract to American Freedom Munitions, a midsize contractor. As questions arose regarding the company’s qualifications, one reporter in particular, Daniel Leighton of the New York Advocate, began an investigation into how the company had been able to win the contract in the first place. In view of the persistent media interest, Richard had convinced the senator that he needed outside communications expertise.

On Richard’s recommendation, Senator Morgan had offered Emma’s firm a lucrative retainer for Emma to handle all media inquiries related to the allegations. If the situation escalated to the point where the senator’s reputation was challenged openly, she had also been expected to manage crisis communications—one of her specialties—to protect and defend him. When she’d accepted the assignment, she’d had no idea about the extent of the senator’s involvement. If Richard had known, he hadn’t been forthcoming with her. And—as she’d later discovered—that wouldn’t have been his worst transgression where she was concerned.

It was Daniel Leighton who’d shown her the copies of the checks that he’d claimed were evidence of kickbacks.

Emma’s ethics were such that she couldn’t continue with the assignment under the circumstances. When she’d discussed it with Richard, he’d ridiculed her. After all, he was a criminal defense lawyer. Who had she thought he defended, if not the guilty?

From that point on, things had gone from bad to worse. Richard had felt that her terminating the contract with Senator Morgan would reflect poorly on him, since he’d recommended her in the first place. He’d seen the Morgan contract as a way to cement his bid for a partnership with his law firm, and he’d been adamant that Emma needed to keep working with the senator.

She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t lie on behalf of a client and—even ethics aside—do the job she was hired for, if her client wasn’t truthful with her. The net effect had been that Richard had left her.

Within days, her boss, the managing partner of Tyson, Myers and Smith, had told her about the elimination of her position. He’d tried to convince her that it wasn’t about her performance and it wasn’t personal. He’d said that it was about workload and a matter of having to cut costs. He’d said all the right things, but in her heart Emma knew better. The senator had pressured her boss to let her go.

In hindsight, Emma recognized that accepting the assignment had been the beginning of the end—with Richard and her career—and ultimately had precipitated her move to Sanctuary Cove.

Well, at least something good had come of it.

She was thankful that she hadn’t succumbed to Richard’s insistence while they were together that she sell it.

Finished with her tea, she took her mug back to the kitchen.

No, she didn’t feel up to working on the brand proposal, but she didn’t want to work in the yard, either, where she’d been restoring the gardens. She poured herself more tea and retrieved her laptop from her office.

She’d purposefully avoided checking the New York news feeds for a while. It had been almost an obsession to stay current with what was happening with the senator and the allegations when she’d first moved to Sanctuary Cove. For weeks after her arrival, she’d searched online and read snippets about the ongoing investigation, and the categorical denials of any wrongdoing from Morgan’s office. There had even been an interview with Richard, where he condemned the media’s attack on the senator. Each time she saw a new article, a painful knot formed in her stomach and hurtful memories resurfaced.

She’d ultimately forced herself to stop following the case and resolved to put it out of her mind. She’d been reasonably successful.

Until now.

She set her laptop on her dining room table and did a quick search of recent headlines. Months had passed since her fateful meeting with Daniel Leighton, and she still couldn’t find an article from him about Morgan and the kickbacks related to the AFM contract.

Strange, Emma thought. Daniel had all that information he’d shared with her, yet he hadn’t written anything about it. She’d been in the business long enough to know how it worked. If you had a story that big, you wanted to get it into print as soon as possible before someone scooped you. Yet Daniel hadn’t gone public with what he had.

An uncomfortable feeling crept into her belly.

Could those copies of the checks Daniel had shown her been fake, as Richard had suggested?

The discomfort in her stomach intensified.

Think. Think.

She tried to recollect everything she knew about Daniel. Senator Morgan and his chief of staff had portrayed him as unscrupulous, opportunistic. Nothing in her background check corroborated their view. In fact, everything she knew about Daniel pointed to just the opposite.

If she accepted the senator’s position that Daniel wanted to discredit him, why would a reporter who had built his career on a reputation of journalistic integrity and meticulous research choose to mount an unwarranted, unsubstantiated attack on a prominent politician?

Was there something more at stake for Daniel?

Emma watched a hummingbird dart around outside, then hover to feast on the nectar of a crimson bee balm.

Was it possible it was all about Daniel trying to reinvent himself as a political reporter, a position he’d been promoted to shortly before the allegations surfaced? Was he simply trying to advance his career?

Emma tapped a fingernail on the side of her mug.

The senator’s characterization of Daniel didn’t fit. Her research and her instincts both told her Daniel was not the type of reporter who would misrepresent the facts or fabricate a story. And why would Daniel have lied to her? Had he somehow seen her as a pawn to further his cause?

No. None of that rang true.

But if Daniel hadn’t lied to her, why was there no story?

Was it possible Richard had been right...about Daniel and about her? Could Daniel have misled her? And by misleading her, precipitated the events that caused her world to crumble?

“Oh, my God,” she whispered and squeezed her eyes shut.

It was unthinkable...

CHAPTER FOUR

EMMA HAD ANOTHER restless night. She woke exhausted and with a miniature construction crew gleefully hammering away in her head. But the insistent pounding hadn’t been enough to banish the nagging doubts about Daniel Leighton.

After swallowing two painkillers, eating breakfast and taking Max for his morning walk, she felt marginally better. She poured more coffee into her mug and took it to her office. Max followed her, stretched out next to the chair and was soon snoring softly.

If only her life was as tough as Max’s, Emma mused with a weak smile as she started up her laptop and opened the brand-proposal document. She sipped her coffee while she reviewed what she’d already done. Getting to the end of the document, she placed her mug on the coaster with more force than she’d intended, the smacking sound startling Max.

“Sorry, sorry,” she said to him and tried to tamp down her frustration.

The proposal was mediocre at best. It lacked originality and pizzazz. Thank goodness she didn’t have to have it complete until the end of the month.

Maybe Richard had been right, and she just wasn’t suited to work in her chosen field—even on a part-time basis and without final creative approval.

Had she ever been good at it? she wondered.

Yeah. Sure, she tried to bolster herself. She’d been in demand, had been promoted several times at Tyson, Myers and Smith until she’d reached the highest position she could without becoming a full partner. She’d been recognized with an award—communications professional of the year—twice!

But now...

She stared at the computer screen. She’d been insistent with the owner of Pinnacle Communications that she didn’t want her name associated with the work. She’d do it on a ghostwriting basis.

If that wasn’t an indication of lack of confidence in her abilities, what was?

The owner had agreed to her condition without much discussion. He’d said it was because he wanted her on board regardless. Staring at her screen, Emma decided to start fresh rather than fix the stale ideas in the existing document. She tried to immerse herself in it, but soon realized it was futile. Frankly, she had no idea how to differentiate the athletic wear manufacturer in an already crowded marketplace. Instead, she decided to work outside.

She mowed and weeded and pruned vigorously for hours, all the while thinking about Daniel Leighton, Morgan and, of course, Richard, and all that had happened. By the time she stopped midafternoon, she was exhausted but in a much better frame of mind.

She’d been jumping to conclusions. She couldn’t have been wrong about Daniel and what he’d shown her. She was positive that he was scrupulous.

There had to be another reason he hadn’t gone public with the information he had. With resolve, she pushed the matter out of her mind again.

She showered, and dressed in faded jeans and a yellow T-shirt. In deference to the heat, she bound her hair up in a high ponytail. Her stomach growled, reminding her she’d missed lunch. While she ate a sandwich, she thought about the injured dog...and the veterinarian.

She considered calling Josh at the clinic but rejected the idea. She wanted to see for herself how the dog was. She didn’t want to give Josh the opportunity to talk her out of it again.

The clinic closed at five and it was nearing that time when she parked her X5 in front of it next to a green Toyota. She was struck again by the size of the building. Granted, it was a combination of Josh’s home and the clinic, but the clinic was a relatively small addition. The main house itself was large and rambling. While there was no obvious symmetry, the wood and stone of the façade complemented each other and the surrounding landscape.

Josh was behind the reception counter with his back to Emma when she walked quietly inside. He was preoccupied with a computer sitting on a side table. The only other person in the room was an elderly lady, cradling a white toy poodle.

Josh dragged his fingers through his already mussed hair, and continued to fidget with the mouse.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting, Mrs. Fields,” he said, without glancing back. “I’ll have your invoice ready in a minute.”

“That’s all right, m’dear. Take your time. I don’t mind waiting,” Mrs. Fields replied. She stroked the poodle’s wiry fur and gave Emma a wide, toothy smile.

The computer finally prompted the printer, and Josh let out a sigh. As he grabbed the invoice he’d just printed, the telephone rang. He placed the invoice on the counter for Mrs. Fields to review, then snatched up the receiver and turned. His gaze collided with Emma’s, and a slow smile spread across his face.

Her heart rate quickened and she forced a smile in return. She waved to him, then at a loss with what to do with her hands, she tucked them in the front pockets of her jeans.

Josh greeted the caller, but his eyes remained steady on hers.

She met his stare with an odd mixture of discomfort and excitement. There was no denying Josh’s appeal, but appearance wasn’t everything. His personality probably left a lot to be desired, as he’d been temperamental and unpleasant the night they’d met.

Her smile faded, and she ran her tongue over her suddenly dry lips. She immediately regretted the gesture, when Josh’s gaze dipped down and his smile turned into a grin. And that grin alone made it difficult for her to breathe.

In what she hoped looked to be a casual move, she went to the display shelving at the far side of the room to examine the pet foods the clinic offered for sale.

She knew he was still watching her by the heat of his gaze on her shoulders and an itch along her spine. She lifted a can of dog food, pretending to examine its label, and listened to Josh conclude the phone call and turn his attention back to his client.

“Here’s your credit card, Mrs. Fields. Try not to worry about Muffy. She’s perfectly healthy and should stay that way for a long time.”

Emma marveled at the charm and warmth in his voice.

“Enjoy the rest of your day and please give my regards to your sister,” he said.

“I will, of course. Dottie should be in soon with her Ginger. Bye, now,” the gray-haired lady said as she walked out.

Josh flipped the hanging sign on the door to Closed.

By the time Emma turned to face him fully, he was leaning casually against the door watching her.

Her heart rate kicked up another notch, both surprising and annoying her. She struggled to not let it show. “I hope I’m not catching you at a bad time.”

“Not at all. Mrs. Fields’s Muffy was my last patient for the day. The clinic is now officially closed. Thankfully,” he added with a relieved smile.

“Bad day?” He looked tired and his clothes were just a little rumpled. She felt herself soften toward him.

“Not really. Just an exceptionally busy one. We were booked solid, and Sherri, my assistant and all-around miracle worker, was off today. That means I had to do all the paperwork, too—not my favorite task.”

“If you’re busy, I won’t keep you. I just came to see...” Emma hesitated, wishing she knew the dog’s name.

Josh stepped toward her. That lazy smile and those warm brown eyes sent her pulse skittering.

“No problem. Our patient’s doing much better today.” He motioned toward the recovery room. “Let’s go see him.”

As they entered, the large dog gazed at Emma with guarded eyes. She remembered Josh’s warning about the unpredictable behavior of injured animals and glanced back. “Is it okay to touch him?”

“Go ahead. Our boy seems to have good manners.” To prove his point, he crouched down and let the dog sniff his hand before Josh stroked him. He checked the dog’s pupils and gums, then moved to the side to make room for Emma.

She knelt beside Josh and held out her hand. The dog raised his head, sniffed obligingly and his tail thumped against the side of the cage, causing a metallic clang. “He looks good...considering what he’s been through.” She smiled up at Josh. He was so close, she could smell the clean, fresh fragrance of his soap, see amber specs in his brown eyes and the faint stubble on his face. Hurriedly, she turned her attention back to the dog. “So he’s going to be fine?”

“There’s no reason he shouldn’t be. His condition is stable. He’s healthy other than for his injuries, and I’m no longer overly concerned about the possibility of infection.”

Emma nodded, but kept her gaze averted. “Have you been able to find his owner?”

“No. I’ve asked around, contacted other veterinary practices in the area, put a posting online. No one seems to recognize him, and he’s fairly distinctive.”

Through lowered lashes, she looked at Josh again. He’d shifted to his other knee and was even closer, their faces only inches apart. “If, ah...” She struggled to remember what she’d wanted to say. She transferred her weight to her other side, putting more distance between them. “I meant what I said before,” she replied. “I’ll take him if you can’t find his owner.”

Before Emma realized what his intention was, he tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. She jerked back as if singed.

“Sorry,” she murmured although she had no idea why she was apologizing.

* * *

SURPRISED BY HIS own action, Josh tried not to think of how smooth Emma’s skin had felt. Yeah, it had been impulsive of him, but she’d overreacted to his touch, as evidenced by the way she’d pulled away and the shocked expression on her face.

He straightened the dog’s bedding and refocused his thoughts. He, too, was concerned about what would happen to the dog. He couldn’t keep him at the clinic indefinitely. Once healed, the dog would need exercise and room to roam. He needed a loving home.

He’d dismissed Emma’s offer to adopt the dog when she’d first made it, considering it a knee-jerk reaction, perhaps driven by guilt, when he’d believed her to be responsible for his injuries. Clearly, she’d been serious.

“He’s a large dog, Emma. He’ll require space and considerable exercise. He might also need some training. If he’s part wolf, there might be a degree of unpredictability about him as well, and he might have an instinctive prey drive that could make it challenging around other, smaller animals.”

Watching her, Josh was struck by the many shades of gray her eyes could be, as they transformed from the color of storm clouds to a luminous silver. He felt the powerful pull of attraction again, and it brought Crystal and her antics to mind. Even so, he couldn’t keep his gaze from lowering to Emma’s lips as the corners curved up, and all thoughts of Crystal receded.

“Oh, I’m aware of the space and time demands of a large dog,” she said with a chuckle. “I already have a large one. Max, an Alaskan malamute. I suspect Max would enjoy the company.”

Josh had been so absorbed wondering how her lips would taste, he’d nearly forgotten what he’d said to her. Something about big dogs. Oh, right... “Okay. We’ll see how things go. We should let our patient get some sleep now.” He rose and held out a hand to help Emma up.

There was a slight hesitation before she placed her hand into his. He noted the skittishness in her eyes before she withdrew her hand and took a step back.

There was a shyness about her—an uncertainty—that seemed inconsistent with how beautiful and, by all indications, intelligent she was. She made him think of a delicate bird, injured in some way. He’d never been able to ignore a wounded creature, but it wasn’t just that with Emma.

“Thanks again for taking such good care of him,” she said, interrupting his musings.

When she glanced down at the dog and his tail wagged again, Josh could just about see her unease dissipate.

“Is it okay if I come back to see him?” Her smile lit up her entire face.

Stunning, he thought. The dog could make her smile with a simple flick of his tail and he made her nervous. “Anytime you like.”

She studied the dog thoughtfully. “He needs a name. Even if you find his owner, we need to call him something for the time being.”

“What do you suggest?”

She narrowed her eyes. “How about Theodore? Theo for short.”

Looking down at his patient, Josh considered. “Meaning God’s gift? From the Greek, right?”

“I have no idea. It just came to me.”

“Okay. Theo it is... Emma, you know if we can find his owner, the best place for him is his home. I don’t want you getting too attached.”

She nodded, but he could see the mixed emotions play across her face. It was probably already too late for that caution.

Josh saw her out, and noted the efficiency and confidence of her stride as she walked away. That confidence seemed to be at odds with how ill-at-ease she was with him. Those contradictions made her that much more interesting.

Intrigued, he would look forward to seeing Emma again and hopefully would have the opportunity to do so on a more personal basis... Crystal be damned.

CHAPTER FIVE

THE GARDENS AND forest were ablaze with color as summer neared its end. Emma had finished the brand proposal and accepted two more assignments from Pinnacle Communications. With each assignment she completed, she got more of her self-confidence back. She was working on a media strategy for an initial public offering for a toy company. This was the first time since she’d been let go that she could say she was enjoying her work. If at times she still lamented how her life had unraveled, turning her mind to her assignments encouraged her. Each day she spent several hours working in her office, with Max sprawled on the rug next to her desk, more often than not sound asleep.

Afternoons, weather permitting, she spent outside. The cooler temperatures meant that she and Max could comfortably take long walks along the forest trails. They both loved the exercise and being outdoors. They’d hike across fern-edged, moss-covered paths in the shade of the high canopy of decades-old growth. They’d follow the gurgling, crystal-clear stream to the river, and the river to where it spilled over the rocks into the lake.

The juncture of stream and lake was a perfect spot to rest. Cattails and tall, wild grasses danced gracefully with the light breeze.

Emma would sit on a log or a boulder, while Max waded in the water. Eventually, they’d wander along the shoreline back to the cottage. Every few days, she’d take out a small kayak and paddle around the lake, occasionally pulling up on the opposite bank.

If the weather was inhospitable, Emma would curl up in one of the comfortable chairs near the fireplace in the great room and read.

For the most part, the only people she felt comfortable interacting with were the veterinarian and his assistant, Sherri. Once in a while, Emma’s former assistant or one of her old colleagues would call, although as time passed, their contact became less frequent. She had to admit that it was mostly her doing, as they reminded her of the job she’d loved and lost.

Emma visited Theo regularly, but she avoided the clinic’s closing time. Josh might have had a small-town practice, but she learned that it was a busy, thriving one. If she visited during the day, Josh was more than likely seeing patients, and odds were she’d manage to avoid him. He stirred up strange feelings in her that she wasn’t comfortable with, and thinking about him caused insecurities of a different nature to emerge. Her relationship with Richard had apparently harmed more than her confidence in her professional capabilities. She didn’t feel self-assured about her personal appeal, either.

Thus, Sherri became Emma’s primary contact for Theo. But thinking of Theo invariably brought Josh to mind.

Emma stood in the kitchen and gazed out the window, trying not to think of him.

A sudden rustle of the brush at the edge of the forest helped her cause. A beautiful doe cautiously stepped into the clearing. Emma felt everything go soft inside her, as she watched the doe stop, its graceful legs slightly spread, and scent the air. Apparently satisfied that there was no immediate danger, she lowered her head, ears twitching, and began to graze.

Emma was enthralled. She placed her mug on the counter. Whether due to the muted sound or the motion that might have been visible through the glass, the doe’s head whipped up, and she was immediately on alert. Emma remained motionless, not wanting to scare her away. A few moments passed and the doe continued to feed, until she finally decided she’d had enough and leaped back into the forest, her bright white tail held high.

The short vignette left Emma with a sense of contentment—even joy—she couldn’t remember feeling for a while. Her spirits lifted, she felt eager to work on her current assignment and planned to keep at it until it was finished. Then she’d treat herself to a trip into town to visit Theo.

The work went better than she’d anticipated. Arriving at the veterinary clinic midafternoon, Emma walked into the empty waiting room. Sherri glanced up from behind the reception counter and grinned. “Hey! How’s it going?”

Josh’s assistant was compact in build, with short, spiky black hair, warm hazel eyes, a small, pert nose and a mouth that seemed to be turned upward in a perpetual smile. Sherri had a forthright, affable personality that Emma had felt drawn to right away.

Emma returned Sherri’s smile and greeting.

“Theo’s going to be happy to see you,” Sherri noted. “He’s definitely having a good day.”

“Sill no luck finding his owner?”

Sherri shook her head, and Emma felt her usual twinge of guilt for what she considered selfish relief each time Sherri told her no one had come forward to claim him.

“Just give me a minute to clear this stuff up,” Sherri said, lifting a stack of papers, “and I’ll take you back.”

“No problem. Quiet day today,” Emma observed.

“We had a couple of cancellations.”

“Is Josh having work done to his house?” Emma inquired as she leaned casually on the reception counter and watched Sherri sort the documents.

“Work? Oh, you mean the ladder and the pressure washer beside his garage?”

Emma nodded.

“No. Not exactly work.” The sparkle of humor that usually lit Sherri’s eyes was distinctly absent when she rose and moved to the file cabinet. “More of a cleanup.”

“A cleanup?”

“It’s to get rid of a little farewell present that was left for him.”

Emma arched an eyebrow. “Sorry, I don’t understand.”

Sherri shot a furtive glance at the closed examination room door. “Crazy ex-girlfriend. She wasn’t happy about the relationship being over between her and Josh, and she likes to show her displeasure. Did some damage here a while back. Broke some exterior light fixtures, trampled some plants. The pièce de résistance was spray-painting exactly what she thought of Josh on the side of his garage.”

“Oh, no. That’s terrible...”

Sherri shrugged. “Josh can handle it. But thankfully she’s been quiet for a couple of weeks now. He’s hoping she’s moved on. As for the graffiti, he’s tried to scrub it off with soap and water, but it didn’t work. He’s finally gotten around to renting the proper equipment to do the job.”

When Sherri was done, Emma followed her to the back. Listening to her friendly chatter, it occurred to Emma that she was starting to get a little tired of her self-imposed isolation. “Do you have any plans after work today?” she asked on impulse.

“No. Why?”

“Would you like to stop by my place for a drink?”

“I’d love to!” Sherri said with a grin as they entered the recovery room.

Upon seeing them, Theo stood and his tail thumped against the back of the cage. Emma noted happily that he was less awkward getting up. He came to her without hesitation. She ruffled his fur before snapping a leash to his collar. She took him for a slow walk around Josh’s property. Theo still favored his injured leg, but as the weeks passed, the bone was healing and he was able to put more weight on it. Since Theo didn’t seem to be in any discomfort or pain, Emma kept him out longer than usual, noting again how nicely he walked on a leash.

* * *

JOSH BACKED OUT of the examination room and held the door open for his last patient of the day. “There’s no charge, for this visit, Mrs. Ross, since it’s a follow-up.”

After he escorted Mrs. Ross and her cat out, Josh joined Sherri by the window, where she was standing. Together they watched Emma exercise Theo.

“Good movement. Nice stride today,” Sherri remarked.

Josh rubbed his chin and kept his eyes on Emma. “Hmm. I don’t recall an occasion she didn’t have good movement. Or a nice, ah...stride.”

Sherri laughed and jabbed Josh lightly in the ribs with her elbow. “I was talking about Theo.” She leaned against the sill and gave Josh a considering look. “If you’re interested in Emma, why haven’t you made a move?”

He folded his arms and shrugged. “I think she needs some space. I also get the distinct impression she’s trying to avoid me. So I’ve let her.”

The phone rang and Sherri dashed over to answer it.

Still watching Emma, Josh murmured to himself, “It might be time to change that, though.”

“No, I’m sorry but he’s not here right now.” Josh could hear Sherri behind him lie to the caller. He turned and gave her a questioning look. Sherri cast her eyes to the ceiling, and his smile faded. He had a feeling he knew who was on the other end of the line. His suspicion was confirmed when Sherri stated in a placating voice, “C’mon, Crystal. Calm down.” For Josh’s benefit, she moved her index finger in a circular motion next to her temple. “No. I’m sure your life isn’t over simply because Josh isn’t in it.” There was a pause and Sherri dropped down into the chair. “Yes. I know he’s a cad.” She mouthed the word cad in an exaggerated manner, pointed at Josh and made a face that drew a reluctant smile from him. “No, I don’t think he’s changed his mind. No, definitely not a good idea for you to drive—”

Sherri held the phone away from her ear. Crystal was yelling loud enough for Josh to hear her clear across the room.

He’d had enough. He wasn’t going to let Crystal be abusive with Sherri. He started across the room, but Sherri held her hand out and put the receiver back to her ear. “Crystal... Crystal!” The second time she’d said her name, she’d shouted. “Why don’t you have a nice glass of wine and think about what a cad Josh is. I’m sure you’ll realize he’s just not good enough for you, and you’re better off without him.”

Josh raised both his brows.

“Yes. I know. That’s right. I’m sure you’ll feel better. A-ha. Okay. Good-bye.” Sherri hung up the phone and exhaled. “Well, that was fun,” she said sarcastically. “You really should tell the cops.”

Josh regretted how things had ended, but his conscience was clear. He hadn’t done anything wrong where his relationship with Crystal was concerned. It hadn’t been all that serious and they just hadn’t clicked. Regardless, he still felt responsible and didn’t want to cause Crystal grief...even though that was exactly what she’d been doing for him. Also, the thought of going to the police about trouble with his ex-girlfriend was just too embarrassing to consider. Even though Sheriff Chad Atkins was a close friend—they’d grown up together, played some ball—and Josh trusted Chad not to say anything, Sanctuary Cove was a small community and word would spread like wildfire. “She’ll get over it,” he stated dismissively. “I’m sorry you had to be on the receiving end of that. Why don’t you head out now? I’ll lock up.”

“I will, as soon as Emma’s back with Theo.”

Josh was about to argue, but decided against it. Just as well, he thought as he retreated to his examination room. He wasn’t in the mood to try to charm Emma after that call from Crystal.

* * *

AS SOON AS Emma got home, she found a pair of pruning shears and took Max outside with her. She let him roam and sporadically chase chipmunks he had no hope of catching while she cut flowers. When she had a generous bouquet, she signaled for Max to follow her in. She placed the flowers in a vase and took the vase into the great room, setting it in the center of the coffee table. Perfect, she thought and grinned as she stepped back and surveyed the room.

She was arranging a variety of cheeses, crackers, fruits and sweets on platters when her phone rang. Glancing at the clock, she decided she’d let it go to voice mail so she could finish the preparations for Sherri’s visit. She was running late not only because she’d wanted fresh flowers, but she’d also spent more time than she’d planned on a quick cleanup. She couldn’t help it. She wanted the house to look its best. Sherri would be her first visitor since she’d moved to Sanctuary Cove nearly four months ago.

She’d just finished the platters when Max’s distinctive malamute “whoo, hoo” alerted her that Sherri had arrived. Emma wiped her hands on a dishtowel and followed Max to the front door to let Sherri in.

“This place is marvelous!” Sherri enthused. “The glimpses of it from the road don’t do it justice.” She bent down to ruffle Max’s fur and scratch him behind his ears. The dog arched his back and leaned in toward her. “And what a gorgeous boy you are!” she said, continuing to delight him with affection.

“He’s going to be plastered to your side now,” Emma declared, as she handed Sherri a glass of wine.

Sherri took a sip and made a sound of approval before placing the glass on the coffee table. She leaned over to smell the flowers before sitting on the sofa. As soon as Sherri dropped her hand on her lap, Max nudged it until she gave him attention again.

“I told you,” Emma said with a smile.

When Max finally stretched out by Sherri’s feet, she reached for her glass. “I might as well be up front,” she stated. “I’m wondering how many glasses of this excellent chardonnay we’ll have to drink before you’ll tell me who the real Emma Meadows is and why she’s decided to leave the excitement of the big city in favor of admittedly quaint but nonetheless sleepy Sanctuary Cove?”

Emma’s chuckle was spontaneous but her eyes darted away. “There’s not much to tell.”

“Let me be the judge of that. I emphasize the word sleepy as it relates to Sanctuary Cove. For those of us born and bred here, watching paint dry can be an event.”

Sherri’s comment surprised Emma. “If you’re unhappy, why have you stayed?”

Sherri laughed. “Oh, I’m not unhappy! I was quite determined to leave when I was younger. I had a taste of city life while I was at college and I liked it—for the short term. But when it comes down to it, I’m not built for the city. Like most of us locals, I appreciate what I have right here. Family and friends. A job I love. And a pace of life I’m comfortable with.” She swept an arm toward the windows. “How can you beat the beauty of nature all around us? I’m quite happy. So—” she smiled and swirled her wine “—back to you. What enticed you away from the bright lights?”

At Emma’s sigh, Sherri reached forward and touched her knee. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry. Well, yes, I suppose I do, but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I sense there’s a story there, but we can leave it.”

Emma glanced at the pale gold liquid in her glass. Took a small sip. She really liked Sherri and maybe it would help to talk about what had happened. At least some of it. She shrugged. “Things weren’t working out for me in New York. Not on a personal level and not with my job. I thought a change of scenery would be good.”

“Hmm...”

“Well, I’ve always loved spending time at my cottage. So, with no obligations, I decided to move here. I know that sounds cryptic...”

“You’ve been here for what, two months, maybe three?”

“Nearly four.”

“For most city transplants, the novelty wears off in time, and they can’t wait to get back to civilization.” Sherri helped herself to a strawberry, then dipped it into the melted chocolate. “Something tells me you’re different. That you might stay.”

Emma smiled. “It’s nice of you to say that. I would like to.”

“If you don’t mind me being honest, I think what drove you here was a lot harder on you than you’re letting on. I remember the first time I met you. You had dark shadows under your eyes and there was an edginess to you.” She returned Emma’s smile. “Now the shadows are gone and I don’t see the nerves, or at least not nearly as much.”

“It’s hard not to unwind in Sanctuary Cove,” Emma said evasively and popped a candied almond into her mouth.

Sherri helped herself to a plateful of snacks and snuggled back in the chair, a distinct gleam in her eyes. “So, are you going to go out with the dreamy Dr. Whitmore?” she asked.

Emma choked on her wine. Grabbing a napkin, she held it to her mouth for a few moments until she could swallow. “Where did that question come from?”

“I’ve seen how the two of you look at each other. Not directly—but when you know the other isn’t paying attention. You can’t tell me you’re not interested in Josh.”

“Didn’t you say he had a bad breakup recently?” Emma asked. She could feel the heat rise to her cheeks. “I’m sure you’re reading us wrong.”

“I know Josh, and he is interested in you.” Sherri savored another strawberry. “Mmm. I might not know you that well, but I’d say you’re attracted to him, too. Am I incorrect?”

When Emma stayed silent, Sherri continued. “So what’s holding you back?”

“I don’t want a relationship,” Emma blurted out. “Besides, it’s hard to imagine a guy like him wouldn’t be with someone already.”

Sherri shook her head, sending her dangly silver earrings dancing. “Nope. He hasn’t seen anyone for months. Bad breakup, remember. And good-bye and good riddance to Crystal, if you ask me. Also, if he was with someone, he wouldn’t be sending off those signals like he does with you. Josh isn’t like that.”

“Why aren’t the two of you together, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Are you kidding? Josh and me? I haven’t thought about him romantically since I was about ten. For his part, he’s always considered me like a kid sister. I’ve known Josh a long time. His sister, Angie, is one of my closest friends. As kids, Angie and I were inseparable whenever their family was in Sanctuary Cove. I spent so much time at their place during the summers, Josh and I virtually grew up together. Over the years, he’s become a good friend. I’d like to see him happy with someone. But that someone is definitely not me.”

Loud cracking sounds from the direction of the forest caused Emma to jolt and she nearly toppled her wineglass. Max was instantly alert and up on all fours. “Was that what I think it was?” she asked.

Sherri frowned and nodded. “Yep. Gunshots.”

Emma thought of the beautiful white-tailed doe she’d seen just that morning, and pushed out of her chair. The thought of a hunter trespassing on her property outraged her.

Sherri put down her glass and joined Emma and Max by the window.

At the sound of another series of shots, Emma winced. She’d check the regulations and, if warranted, report the occurrence to the authorities, she decided.

The incident left them in a more subdued mood. Regardless, when Sherri left hours later, Emma felt they had the beginning of a friendship. She cleared away the plates, glasses and empty bottle. She checked to see if the person who’d called earlier had left a message but there was no voice mail. Grabbing Max’s leash, she took him for a long, brisk jog down the driveway and along Otter Creek Road. When they returned, her skin was flushed and damp with the exertion, despite the chill in the air.

Emma retrieved her laptop from her office, made herself a cup of tea and took both out to the back deck that overlooked the lake. The property dropped off steeply from the north end of the cottage, toward the shoreline. More gardens were visible from here, each boasting a dazzling array of colors of her late blooming perennials. Sipping her tea, she watched a great blue heron skim gracefully above the lake’s mirrored surface to alight delicately in its marshy end. With keen eyesight, speed and agility, it plucked its dinner of fingerlings out of the shallow waters.

Emma heard the mournful call of a loon and its mate’s answering cry, followed by the jarring ring of her phone inside the cottage.

Putting her mug aside, she went in with Max following.

“Emma, this is Daniel Leighton,” the caller introduced himself as soon as she answered. “You’ll remember—”

“Yes. I remember.” Just hearing his voice caused Emma’s palms to sweat. “But I don’t think we have anything to talk about.”

“I understand how you must feel, Emma, but I need to tell you something. Morgan knows about the information I have.”

Exasperated, Emma strode across the room. “The information? I believed you. My fiancé didn’t. But I believed you, and I tried to get Richard—Richard Peterson, he was my fiancé—to resign his contract, too. He wouldn’t and our relationship consequently fell apart. And you’ve not used that so-called information in an article. At this point, do you really think I care what Morgan knows and whether you deceived me or not?”

There was a short pause. “I was entirely truthful with you.” His voice was low and earnest.

“Then why didn’t you run your story? It’s been months.”

“Morgan’s attorney pressured the paper. Threatened, actually. That attorney was your ex-fiancé. Our lawyers were concerned about how I’d gotten the copies of those checks for the payments to Morgan. The Advocate’s editor refused to run my story.”

Emma dragged her fingers through her hair and wished she hadn’t answered the phone. “Then what do you want from me?” she asked, deflated.

“Morgan’s aware I haven’t dropped the story. He also knows I’ve been approached by other papers. Through some convoluted legal channels, he recently learned what I have on him, although they couldn’t force us to turn over copies of our records.

“You’re probably aware that Morgan has formally declared his interest in seeking the nomination to be the Democratic candidate in the next presidential election. If the story does break, it will be a huge hit to Morgan’s chances, perhaps enough to derail his candidacy.

“I’ve given the police everything I’m able to, and they’re investigating. Although I doubt Morgan realizes that yet.”

Emma moved to the sofa and sat down. Max followed and settled next to her. “I’m sorry, but what does that have to do with me?”

“Up until now, Morgan and his people would only have suspected what I have on him, but now they’re certain. Knowing I met with you and when, they more than likely deduced that I shared some, if not all, of the information with you. I suspect Richard would have corroborated it, if you told him.”

Emma couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “I don’t have anything to do with any of that now.”

“Granted, but they might also think you gave me information. I know you didn’t, but they don’t know that. Depending on how much they shared with you while you were under contract to Morgan, they might be worried about it. My understanding is you’re not one of their favorite people. I also suspect I’ve been followed at times. Probably to keep an eye on me, to avoid surprises for them. All I’m saying is, be careful.”

“I’m sorry to sound harsh, but aren’t you overreacting, Daniel? What Morgan might or might not have done, wouldn’t he be better off leaving matters alone? Especially since he was able to quash your article? If what you’re suggesting is true and he gets caught, wouldn’t it make matters worse for him?”

“A valid point, but there’s more at stake here than even I suspected. I’ve reported it to the police, even though there’s not much they can do about it. Just stay alert. If anything odd happens, call the police.”

The police?

“And speaking of the police, they will probably want to talk to you.”

“Me? Why?” She was horrified.

“Because you worked for Morgan at a crucial time. You were part of his inner circle.”

“That’s ridiculous and you know it! I didn’t have any information. That was part of the problem. That he wasn’t transparent with me.”

“I just wanted to give you a heads-up so you wouldn’t be surprised if the police contact you.”

Emma thanked Daniel for the call, although the last thing she was feeling was thankful.

It was late evening when Emma poured herself a glass of wine and took it out to the deck. Max stretched out at her feet as she sat at the table. The sun had dipped below the tree line on the opposite side of the lake, staining the lower sky a blazing crimson, and radiating streaks of vivid color above. The lake’s surface shimmered iridescent red and orange.

The sorrowful call of a loon reverberated across the lake again, this time without response. Emma wondered where his mate was and sipped the last of her wine as the final smudges of color bled from the night sky.

Later still, with only the moon and stars to light her way, she gathered up her things and headed inside, Max trailing behind her.

After cleaning up the dishes, Emma climbed the stairs to the top floor. Her bedroom was a spacious room with a high, peaked ceiling and large, soaring windows overlooking the lake. There were smaller casement windows on each end wall, and she opened these to invite in the cool night air, along with the trilling of the cicadas.

She changed into a sleep shirt and climbed into bed. As she stared out a window, she realized that for the first time in weeks it wasn’t regret, despair or anger she was feeling. Rather, a sense of calm and even hopefulness filled her—despite Daniel’s warning—as she drifted into sleep.

Max’s growl woke her. Groggy with sleep, she glanced at her bedside clock. It was nearing midnight. She spotted Max, his front paws braced on the windowsill, his body tense. She listened intently for what might have disturbed him, but heard only the usual nighttime noises.

“Come on, Max. Go lie down.”

Max ceased his throaty growl and glanced back at her. “Off the windowsill,” Emma instructed, and motioned toward his bed. Max pushed off and turned in a circle, but then rose up to rest his paws on the ledge again.

“Max, it was just an animal. Go back to sleep.”

As Max wouldn’t budge, with a sigh Emma got up and coaxed him back to his bed. Just as she was drifting off again, she thought she heard a car engine start but knew she was imagining it. She’d locked the gate at the foot of the drive and there was no possible reason for someone to have parked along Otter Creek Road in the middle of the night.

CHAPTER SIX

IT WAS A glorious fall day, with just a hint of a gentle breeze to flutter flower petals and blades of grass, and sunlight streaming down from a cloudless, clear-blue sky. It emboldened Emma and she took what she considered a daring move—visiting the clinic midday. She’d tried to rationalize it in a number of ways, but if she was honest with herself, it was because she’d hoped to see Josh. She felt an odd mixture of relief and disappointment to learn from Sherri that Josh had been called by another veterinary clinic to assist with a complicated surgery and wasn’t expected back until late afternoon.

Wasn’t that just her luck?

On the plus side, Theo was coming along nicely. Emma suspected, and Sherri agreed, that since they hadn’t already found Theo’s owner, it was unlikely they would.

After her visit with Theo, Emma spent much of the afternoon starting the fall cleanup of her gardens. In the evening, she finished off a speech she was working on for the CEO of a mining company.

The telephone had rung once while she’d been working, but she’d been on a roll and had ignored it. She felt a tremendous sense of accomplishment as she clicked on Save, satisfied with her first draft.

It was near bedtime, but her stomach reminded her that she’d skipped dinner...again. She ate leftovers while standing in the kitchen, her thoughts still on her assignment. When she finally remembered to retrieve the message from her voice mail, a pleasant male voice greeted her. She’d only spoken to Josh on the telephone a couple of times, weeks before, but she recognized his voice immediately.

“Sherri mentioned you asked about me when you visited the clinic today. I’m sorry I missed you. As you could see for yourself, Theo’s recovery continues to progress well. So well, in fact,” his message went on, “he’s ready to leave here and go home. Emma...”

Home? Did they find his owner? Emma’s heart started to beat painfully at the thought of not seeing Theo again.

Then Josh continued. “Why don’t you give me a call and we can discuss your taking him, if you’re still interested.” There was another moment of silence. “Theo’s been through a lot. I want to make sure it’s the right thing—for him and for you.” Emma smiled.

If all went well, Theo could be home with her and Max by tomorrow afternoon. The thought of that made for a positive end to an already good day.

One day at a time, she reminded herself...

* * *

MIDMORNING THE NEXT DAY, Emma spread a blanket in the back of her X5. She and Josh had agreed she should bring Max with her to pick up Theo. Although Max got along well with all creatures—two-or four-legged—both she and Josh wanted to ensure the dogs’ first meeting went smoothly. Neutral territory would help. Calling Max, she patted the back deck of the SUV. Max trotted over and leaped in effortlessly. She got him settled and rewarded him with a dog biscuit.

Emma drove to Josh’s clinic with her window open, enjoying the sunshine and comfortable temperature. She hummed softly with a Tim McGraw song on the radio. She turned into the drive leading to Josh’s house and clinic. A blur of motion to her left had her glancing toward the side yard. She stopped the vehicle and grinned as she watched Josh try to coax Theo into a game of fetch. A yellow Lab was with them, and he was clearly an old master at the game. Emma surmised that the Lab was Josh’s dog rather than a patient, as he appeared to be in excellent health. The little guy did an energetic happy dance as Josh held the ball, bulleting after it when Josh sent it flying.

Theo, by comparison, wasn’t quite certain what was expected. He sniffed the ball as Josh held it, but shied away from taking it. The Lab watched the interplay patiently and raced off as Josh sent the ball soaring once more.

Emma focused her attention on Josh. He wore a faded blue denim shirt, the sleeves rolled to his elbows, navy jeans and well-worn hiking boots. His movements were fluid and agile. A gust of wind swept his bangs forward, and he ran a hand through his hair, the thick, dark strands falling back in disarray. He paused, as if sensing she was there. He turned, his gaze settling on her, and he smiled and waved to her to join them. Emma’s heart did a little skip and a jump.

She got out of her X5 and opened the back. Max hopped out and ran to greet the other two dogs. By the time Josh and Emma caught up with them, they were getting well acquainted.

Theo had been groomed and sported a new, bright-blue collar. All cleaned up, he looked very handsome and more dog than wolf, Emma thought. He was only slightly bigger than Max. The larger dogs seemed to instinctively know to be gentle with the Lab.

With Theo distracted, his gait was steady and his limp nearly imperceptible. “He looks good,” Emma observed.

Josh’s gaze skimmed over her. “So do you. It’s nice to see you.”

She immediately felt self-conscious, but playful yips had both of them shifting their attention to the dogs.

Josh whistled and all three dogs bounded over. Reaching into his shirt pocket, he pulled out dog treats and offered one to each dog.

“Emma, I’d like you to meet Winston,” he said, stroking the yellow Lab’s head. “He’s mine. Or I suppose it would be fair to say, we’re each other’s.”

She crouched down in front of Winston and laughed when the dog licked her face exuberantly.

She rose and Josh sent the dogs off to play again. “Do you have time for coffee?” he asked.

Emma almost declined on instinct, but after a moment’s hesitation, nodded. She wanted to get to know him. “Sure. Thanks. No appointments at the clinic this morning?” she asked as they walked toward his house.

“Not today. The clinic is closed.” He flashed his heart-stopping grin. “Being the boss has its advantages.”

As they reached the back deck, the dogs suddenly bolted in the direction they’d just come from. Josh and Emma followed to see what had captured their interest. All three dogs were running down the gravel drive chasing a cloud of dust.

Emma grabbed Josh’s arm in alarm. “The road! They’re heading for the road.” There wasn’t a lot of traffic, but the thought of one of the dogs getting hit terrified her. “Max, Theo, come!” she called, as Josh whistled.

It appeared the dogs had tired of the chase anyway, and headed back. “What was that all about?” she asked, once they were safely with them.

Josh shook his head. “I don’t know. Could have been someone coming to the clinic, then realizing it was closed. Whoever it was apparently changed their mind and left in a hurry.”

They walked to the back again, the dogs at their heels. Josh opened a gate to a fenced enclosure and let in the dogs. “They’ll be fine there,” he assured her.

Following Josh inside, Emma looked around the bright, airy kitchen. He motioned for her to make herself comfortable at one of the stools at the large center island, and he went about preparing the coffee. While the coffee brewed, Josh placed a basket of muffins on the island, along with plates and napkins. “They’re fresh. Help yourself,” he insisted.

“You baked these?”

“If my life depended on it, yeah, I could. But these are from Chadwick’s,” he said, referring to the local grocer. “I picked them up this morning.”

They smelled delicious. She selected a blueberry muffin and placed it on her plate. Elbows on the counter, she rested her chin on her fists.

Josh was obviously at home in the kitchen. When she felt a flutter in her belly again, she looked for a distraction.

She was impressed with the open space, the big windows that allowed the sunlight to flood in and spill across the glistening hardwood floors.

“This is a wonderful space. It seems large for one person.”

He chuckled. “Sometimes I forget just how large it is until I have to clean it. The house has been in my family since I was a kid. My parents first built it when I was a toddler and gradually expanded it, either because our family grew or simply on a whim.” Turning, he smiled at her. “I’m responsible only for the final expansion. I added the clinic when I decided to set up my practice here.”

“But you didn’t grow up here?”

Josh shook his head. “We spent weekends and most of the summers here. It wasn’t our family’s primary residence, though. We lived in Westchester County. My father had his practice there.” Josh placed two steaming mugs of coffee, sugar, milk and a spoon for her on the island counter.

“Your father is a veterinarian, too?” she asked as she mixed sugar and milk into her coffee.

Josh took a cautious sip of his own black coffee. “No. He was a surgeon. I disappointed him when I didn’t follow in his footsteps.”

“How could he be disappointed when you do such wonderful work?” she asked with a touch of defensiveness that surprised her.

“Oh, he never would have said so to me, but I expect he was for a short time, when he first realized my mind was made up. Fortunately, my sister stepped up to the plate so the pressure was off me.”

Emma sensed there was no resentment and was happy for it. “What type of surgeon is he?”

“Was,” Josh said, correcting her again. “He’s retired. He was a neurosurgeon. One of the best in his field. He was the head of neuroscience at the Westchester Medical Center up until his retirement a few years ago.”

“Impressive. And your mother? What did she do?”

“She studied to be a nurse. That’s how they met, though she had a short-lived career. She stayed home with us—me, my brother and sister—when we were young. The plan was she would work again when we were all in school. By the time Angie, the youngest of us, made it to that stage, my mother was heavily involved in charitable work and decided to keep with that rather than go back into nursing. She’d been away from it too long anyway. She ran a number of charities before my father retired.”

Emma was intrigued. “Where are your parents now?”

Josh rose to retrieve the coffeepot and topped up their mugs. “Right now, Europe. In the summers they travel a lot. The winters they tend to spend in Palm Beach.”

“Quite the lifestyle.”

“It is, but they’ve earned it. My dad worked hard during his career. It’s great they’re able to enjoy themselves now.”

“How often do you see them?”

“Not nearly enough,” Josh said with a wistful smile.

His obvious closeness to his family touched Emma. She took a bite of her muffin and washed it down with coffee.

“What about you?”

Emma glanced up at Josh. “What about me?”

“Your parents. Where are they?”

“Oh...” The pain of loss could still overwhelm her all these years later. “They passed away when I was still in college.”

He rested his hand on top of hers. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “So young. Do you mind me asking how?”

“My father had been ill for a while. A heart condition. Unable to keep working, his life became centered on my mother. When she died unexpectedly, I—I think he just gave up.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “Do you have siblings?”

She shook her head. “My parents—”

The sudden barking outside caused Emma to jerk around, and she accidentally knocked over her coffee mug. Thankfully, it didn’t break, but coffee spilled and dripped down to the floor. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she said, quickly righting the mug. “I’ll clean it up...as soon as we make sure everything is okay outside.”

“The dogs are fine. They’re playing.”

Despite Josh’s assurance, she rushed to the window. Relieved that nothing was amiss, Emma turned. Seeing Josh mopping up her spill, her nerves jumped and she rushed back. “Oh, no. Please let me do that.”

She reached for the dishtowel, but he pushed her hand away. “It’s okay. I’ve got it.” He gave her a long look. “There’s no harm done.”

“Good. I’m so—”

“Please don’t say it again,” he said, cutting her off. “You don’t have to apologize, but even if you had something to be sorry for, you’ve done it enough already.”

“I’m s—” She had almost apologized for apologizing so much, but caught herself. Instead, she chuckled awkwardly and glanced toward the window.

“You don’t have to worry about those two getting along. They’re doing fine and working out their hierarchy in a constructive way,” he said as he tossed the dishtowel in the sink.

She placed her now empty mug next to it. “Speaking of the boys, I better get them home. I appreciate the coffee.”

“Anytime.” As they reached the back door, he placed a hand lightly on her shoulder. “It wasn’t my intention to have made you sad. Before you leave, can I show you something that might lift your spirits?”

Uncertain of what it was all about, she followed him into the clinic. He pushed open the door to the recovery area and stepped aside to let her look in.

“Oh, gosh...!”

At the sound of her voice, the golden retriever lying on her side raised her head and the five tiny yellow balls of fur snuggled against her stirred with a chorus of yips and yawns. As soon as Emma squatted down, the pups scrambled to their feet and over to her. In their eagerness to get her attention, they climbed and tumbled over each other, and her, causing her to lose her balance and land on her backside. The pups wasted no time and piled into her lap.

“Aren’t you guys the cutest?” she said, lifting one pup. He wiggled and slathered her face with lavish kisses before nibbling on her nose with his sharp puppy teeth. “Ouch!” Emma exclaimed, then hugged the pup to her and laughed.

“That’s nice,” Josh commented.

“What?”

“Hearing you laugh. It’s a nice sound. You don’t do it enough.”

When she looked up at him, there was an odd light in his eyes.

“Have dinner with me, Emma. I’d like to get to know you.” His smile was warm and encouraging. “How about it? Let me take you out one night this week.”

Her mouth was suddenly dry. She wanted to say yes. She really did. But the flutter in her belly made her nervous and the word was stuck in her throat. “Umm, I...”

He arched a brow and held his hand out to help her up. When she was standing, he didn’t let go but, rather, covered their joined hands with his. “I hope the word you’re searching for is yes.”

“Some communications professional I am,” she said with a self-deprecating chuckle. “Yes,” she finally said, and found herself drowning in his honey-flecked brown eyes. “I’d like that.”

“Is Saturday good for you?”

“Sure.”

“Terrific!” He nestled the puppies back with their mother, followed Emma out and helped her load Max and Theo into her X5. He waved to her as she pulled away.

As she drove home, she admitted to herself that she was looking forward to her meal with Josh. After all, he was intelligent, charming, funny and very appealing to the eyes. What did she have to lose?

Then she thought of Richard.

Josh was not Richard, she reminded herself again, and she had to stop making comparisons. Why shouldn’t she enjoy the company of a good-looking, fascinating man who seemed to be interested in her? The possibility that he was interested in her sent a little thrill up her spine. It made her feel wanted, and she liked the sensation. Richard had hurt her and he’d shaken her self-confidence. It was nice to feel wanted again.

CHAPTER SEVEN

FOR EMMA, SATURDAY arrived in some ways much too soon and, in others, not soon enough. The day dawned clear and unseasonably warm. The trees were shrouded in their fall splendor, and the ground was carpeted in the russets and golds of the leaves they’d already shed.

Later, as she rummaged through her closet, she tried to convince herself it didn’t really matter what she wore for her dinner with Josh. Then she berated herself for not having had the foresight to bring at least some of her dressier clothes from the city so she’d have more to choose from. It couldn’t be helped, she resigned herself. She would just have to make do with what she had.

She pulled out a flowing silk dress in shades of blue on a white background and a simple gray jersey one, and took both into the bathroom. Holding first one, then the other before her in front of the mirror, she settled on the pretty, feminine silk. She had no idea where Josh was taking her, but the silk dress would be suitable for a casual setting or something a little more formal. She was certain there were no restaurants in driving distance for which it wouldn’t be appropriate.

Hanging the dress on the hook behind the door, she stood in front of the mirror and deliberated what to do with her hair. As Josh had only seen it loose or in a simple style, she decided she would do something different. She arranged it in a neat chignon high on the back of her head. She left some tendrils framing her face to soften the effect.

Brushing on pale blue eye shadow made her eyes more blue than gray. She added a couple of strokes of mascara, swept some blush along her cheekbones and finished with a light coating of natural lip gloss.

She removed the dress from its hanger and slipped it on. Walking back into the bedroom, she searched through the bottom of her closet. She considered blue pumps and white high-heeled sling-backs. Deciding it was warm enough, she settled on the sexier sling-backs. With shoes in hand, she headed downstairs.

The dogs were sprawled side by side across the tile hearth in the kitchen. She loved how well they got along, as if they’d known each other their entire lives.

“All right, guys. Let’s go outside.” She headed to the back door, the dogs scampering after her.

Barefooted, shoes dangling from one hand, the rich silk of the dress fluttering around her legs in the soft breeze, Emma strolled along the stone pathway beside the gardens still ripe with the dazzling colors of her fall-blooming perennials, and tried not to feel nervous about her date with Josh.

* * *

EMMA WALKING IN her gardens in a sexy dress, the dogs by her side, was the first thing Josh noticed as his Yukon crested her driveway. The very appealing sight made him think of an impressionistic painting—a Monet perhaps. It was a vision of a lovely woman and two playful dogs against the canvas of luminous fall colors. He laughed at himself for romanticizing things, yet he put his Yukon in Park halfway down the driveway and soaked in the view. He knew the instant she noticed the truck. She halted, then waved and strolled toward him.

As soon as Josh got out, the dogs dashed over and he squatted down to rub and scratch to their delight. When Emma reached them, he glanced at her and held up a hand to shade his eyes from the early evening sun that was haloing her.

Giving the dogs a couple of final rubs, he rose and walked with Emma toward the cottage, the dogs racing ahead of them. As he followed her up the porch steps, he couldn’t help but notice her slender shape and long, graceful legs, and considered himself a lucky man. He hadn’t seen her in a dress before and he liked what he saw. “You look...sensational,” he declared. “You take my breath away.”

She glanced over her shoulder, surprise registering on her face. Her smile wavered then firmed, and he wondered what had caused the look of uncertainty.

“Thank you,” she said. Her gaze slid to the shoes she still carried in one hand. “I think it’ll work better when the shoes are on my feet, not in my hand.”

“It’s part of the appeal,” he assured her.

As they walked into the cottage together, he placed a hand on her elbow in a friendly gesture and felt her stiffen. The sensation was gone so quickly, he wondered if he’d imagined it.

Emma settled the dogs and slipped on her sandals as Josh brushed the fur from his clothes. He went to get his truck from where he’d left it on the driveway while she locked up. By the time Emma stepped outside, he was holding the passenger door open for her.

It was a short half-hour drive to Lake George. Josh had made reservations at the Charthouse, a historic boathouse converted into a casually elegant restaurant with stunning waterfront views. They were seated on the patio by the railing.

A waitress with a sleek cap of sable-brown hair and a bright smile took their orders and, after serving their drinks, discreetly left them alone.

Emma sipped her wine and gazed out over the water at the occasional passing boat. There was something wistful in her eyes that prompted him to ask “What’s on your mind?”

She shifted her gaze to meet his. “Oh, I was just thinking how wonderful it is not to have to worry about my next appointment or listen to the blare of congested traffic. How much better to have no one to answer to for my time except myself and be lulled by the gentle sloshing of the water against the rocks and pylons as the waves roll ashore.”

The corners of her mouth curved upward, but Josh sensed something melancholy about the gentle smile. He brushed his hand lightly along her forearm. “Despite your words, you don’t seem happy.”

The smile dimmed and she glanced back to the water. “I don’t know if being unhappy would be possible here. There’s something calming about this place. Not just the restaurant. I mean Sanctuary Cove.” One side of her mouth quirked again. “So peaceful. There’s so much beauty here.” She gestured with her hands and her soft laugh stirred something inside Josh.

“That’s why I set up my practice here,” Josh responded. “I have no interest in living anywhere else. I’d suffocate in the city. It’s not me.”

Taking another sip of her wine, Emma placed the glass on the table and rested her hand next to it. “You don’t miss the clubs, the restaurants, the activity...the people?” she inquired with a degree of skepticism.

He smiled. “What’s there to miss?” He took her hand into his. It pleased him that she didn’t pull it away. He stroked his thumb across the soft skin in the center of her palm, then the small ridge of calluses at the base of her fingers. He raised a brow inquiringly, but she didn’t seem to notice, so he continued. “I was never much for clubs, although I went to my share of them while in university. As you can see, there are great restaurants here, and the views can’t be beat. I find the people here warmer, more genuine, more community-minded than anywhere else I’ve been. Frankly, I’ve always found big cities too impersonal.” He leaned forward and raised her hand to his lips. Placing a kiss on her palm, he curled her fingers over it.

When Emma drew her hand away, she kept her fist closed, as if trying to hold on to what he’d placed in it, and it pleased him.

As the waitress arrived to serve their appetizers, they lapsed into silence.

Once she left again, Josh asked, “What did you do in the city?”

Emma toyed with the food on her plate, then took a small bite of her stuffed mushrooms. “I worked in communications and media relations,” she finally responded.

“That sounds interesting. What made you leave it?” He took a bite of his crab cakes and then reached for his wine.

“I—I found I wasn’t as well suited to the job as I’d thought.”

Josh glanced up. “What do you mean by not suited?”

The sun was drifting below the horizon, and streaks of crimson and gold shot into the darkening sky and across the midnight blue surface of the water. Emma shrugged her shoulder, popped another stuffed mushroom into her mouth and looked away. “I guess it just wasn’t meant for me. I...in the end, I suppose I wasn’t good enough to play in the big leagues.”

He noted the look of hurt in the depth of her eyes again. “How long did you have your job?”

“Just over twelve years...but not the same job. I had a few promotions.”

“Someone doesn’t hold a job for a dozen years and get promoted if they’re not good at what they do.”

“Oh, well...”

She was clearly uncomfortable with the topic. Josh hadn’t intended to push it, but he felt she was being much too hard on herself. He decided to let it go...for now.

They finished their appetizers and sat in companionable silence as their plates were cleared, their meals served and their wineglasses topped up.

Josh was struck again by how beautiful Emma was. Her eyes were a soft gray in the muted light, with just a hint of blue. Her cheekbones were strong slashes across her face, her nose straight and small. And her lips—her lips were full and wide, and glistened with warm color in the candlelight.

When the waitress left, Josh took Emma’s hand in his again. “You’re exquisite, Emma.”

Her discomfort was immediate and palpable. She tried to pull her hand away but he held tight. She forced a smile but it didn’t reach her eyes. Inadvertently, he’d already happened upon a number of hardships she’d had to endure, but he’d just hit on something else. She wasn’t comfortable with compliments.

He released her hand so they could eat, but held her gaze a moment longer. “I like you, Emma,” he said softly. “I want to understand what’s hurt you.”

She cut into her steak. “It’s a long story.”

“I’m in no hurry,” he assured her. “And it might help to talk about it.”

Emma poked the steak with her fork a few times, before tasting the piece she’d cut, then glanced up at him with guarded eyes. “Until six months ago, I was engaged to the man I’d believed I would spend my life with. And I had what I considered a successful career. My ex-fiancé, Richard...” She paused, and kept her head lowered. “I’ve always been a firm believer of leaving past relationships in the past.” She took a sip of wine, and with a short laugh, she glanced up at Josh. “Are you sure you want to hear this?”

“I’m a good listener,” he said.” As he watched her struggle, something inside him shifted and then seemed to settle in place. He was reminded again of a wounded bird, she looked so forlorn. Yet, what he was feeling wasn’t sympathy for her pain, but something decidedly more.

“Richard, and I,” she continued, “had collaborated professionally on occasion. I was with Tyson, Myers and Smith.” She glanced at him and he shook his head, not recognizing the name.

“They’re one of the top communications firms in the state, and Richard is a criminal defense attorney with a major law firm. Frequently, his corporate clients seeking legal defense also required advice from a communications or media relations perspective as their alleged acts were often a topic of shareholder or media scrutiny.”

The waitress appeared to ask about their meals. When they were alone again, Emma gazed across the darkening water and continued. “Our last collaboration wasn’t a successful one. We had a high-profile client who was attracting a great deal of media attention. In this person’s line of work, reputation is crucial. When I learned more about the circumstances that led to the media interest... I couldn’t do what my client wanted me to. Add to that, he wasn’t forthcoming or truthful with us.” Her gaze shifted back to Josh’s and held. Her eyes were a deep gray, shadowed by regret and pain.

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