Summer at Lake Haven - RaeAnne Thayne Page 0,12

knew what she wanted to say. A woman. Particularly a woman like Samantha Fremont.

Why was it an unfortunate truism that those in love couldn’t rest unless everyone else in their circle shared their condition?

He couldn’t tell his optimistic, deeply enamored sister that he was done with love. He had scars on his heart that covered everything good and right that might have once been there.

“Don’t worry about me. This is the season of your life when you should be focused on you and Josh and the life you’re building together.”

“I can’t help it. I believe worrying about my family is one of my superpowers.”

He smiled a little and hugged her back. “Well, try to contain it, then. I don’t need you to worry about me. I need you to think about your spectacular dress and how deliriously happy you’ll be wearing it when you marry in only a few weeks.”

“Don’t worry. I am good at multitasking. I can do both of those things,” she said, which made him smile.

He really did feel better here in Haven Point than he had in months. Years, even, as if he had set a large weight down when he drove past the town’s welcome sign.

CHAPTER THREE

SUNDAY AFTERNOON AFTER CHURCH, Samantha was working away in her sewing room with the television set to a documentary about coral reefs she would likely never visit when her doorbell rang.

She waited for the chorus of yips and yaps that always heralded a new arrival at her home these days but was greeted by a frightening silence. With a jolt, she suddenly remembered she had put Betsey and the puppies outside in the large portable pet enclosure she had bought so they could play in the grass and enjoy the June sunshine.

Okay, that was only part of the reason. Mostly she needed a little peace and quiet to focus on her work. Gemma Summerhill’s dress would be spectacular. Each time she worked on it, she fell in love a little more with the elegant lines. Kat was right. It was one of her best designs.

Back in the early days, her mother had really been the seamstress, though Sam felt as though she had always known how to sew. Her mother started her with her own sewing machine when she was still in grade school and she could remember sewing an elaborate doll wardrobe for her and for Katrina.

At first, she had started designing with things found around the house. Scraps of fabric her mother had discarded, a glue gun, hair scrunchies.

After she received her own sewing machine for Christmas along with some lengths of fabric and a basic doll dress pattern, Sam had learned to add her own flair to outfits.

Oh, she and Katrina used to have fun. She felt a pang, missing those times. They still got together as often as possible and both worked hard to maintain their friendship. But Katrina was so busy with her marriage and children with extra challenges. Sam didn’t like to take her away from Bowie and the children too often strictly for girl time.

The doorbell rang again, yanking her out of her thoughts, and she winced as she jumped up. What an idiot. She had completely forgotten someone was there.

When are you going to get your head out of the clouds and focus on what’s going on around you?

Her mother’s voice was strong today. She sighed as she hurried to the front door and pulled it open.

The children from next door stood on her porch, their arms overflowing with familiar black-and-tan puppies.

“Hello, ma’am,” the girl said politely. “Are these your puppies? They’ve wandered into our garden.”

Wandered. Oh, no. She shot a look at the enclosure she had set up so carefully earlier that day, puzzled to see it looked completely intact.

How on earth had they escaped this time?

“Oh my goodness. You little rascals.”

“Excuse me?” The girl looked affronted.

“Not you. I’m sorry. I was speaking about the puppies. They’re very good escape artists. I’m not sure how they keep getting out. It doesn’t matter what measures I take to prevent it, they immediately find another way to escape.”

“I love puppies,” the little boy, Thomas, said with a dreamy look, resting his cheek on Coco’s head.

“They are adorable, aren’t they? These particular puppies are very mischievous, though. They are always trying to explore.”

“Can I put one down?” The girl, Amelia, had her hands full trying to contain them—the runt of the litter, Oscar, and his chubby older brother, Calvin.

“Yes. Of course. Here. Let

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