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the stranger’s saddle bag, followed by a tiny whimper. A puppy peered out of the top of the bag. The horse, sensing the movement, lifted his pinned his ears and shook his head.
    “Easy,” the man soothed. He reached into his bag once more and pulled out a small wriggling pup.
    “Oh, my,” she murmured.
    Both boys made small cries of astonishment and delight.
    Her breath caught in her throat. The animal she’d admired that morning was somehow here at her home. The man set the pup on the ground, and it sniffed around, taking a few tentative steps into the grass.
    Luke and Seth went to him and crouched on their haunches. The puppy wagged his little tail and wriggled when Seth stroked his head.
    Some of her worry fell away. The pup brought a smile to her lips. “That Mr. Rawlings is wicked,” she said as she watched the boys’ expression of happiness. “He knew I wanted that pup, and he knew if you brought it I wouldn’t have the heart to say no. A dog. Just what I don’t need.”
    The man looked bewildered for a moment. It was just a flicker of confusion that passed over his eyes, and she wondered if she’d offended him. He wasn’t a neighbor, and judging by his fine horse and expensive tack he was no mere delivery boy. So who was he?
    “My name is Isabelle,” she said, extending her hand.
    His lips curved into a smile as he took her hand. “Pleased to meet you, Isabelle. I’m Matt.”
    The smile he gave her transformed his face, and as his hand enveloped hers, a jolt of awareness shot through her. His hand was rough but warm, and she wondered if that meant he had a cold heart. Wasn’t that how the saying went? Why she would wonder about a stranger’s heart was nothing but sheer foolishness, but he held her an instant longer than was seemly. His touch unsettled her, but she didn’t try to tug free. She flushed with embarrassment when his gaze slid from her eyes to her mouth.
    “Something smells good,” he murmured, finally releasing her hand.
    “It’s beef stew.” She retreated a few steps.
    He nodded. “I like beef stew.”
    This felt awkward. He seemed to be waiting for an offer for supper, perhaps as a gesture of thanks. He towered over her and had a look about him that made her think he was used to getting his way.
    “The stew happens to be my husband’s favorite,” she said.
    She emphasized the word ‘husband’ for his benefit. While the man hadn’t harmed her or threatened her in anyway, he radiated power and danger.
    “Your husband,” he drawled. “You don’t say.”
    She nodded. “He’s down in the barn. I expect him any minute. He doesn’t really care for strangers coming onto the property around dark.”
    The man squinted at her. “Sounds like you’re telling me to be on my way.”
    She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I don’t mean to be rude. It’s just that I’ve had some trouble in the past.”
    “What do you mean?”
    She glanced at the boys, not wanting them to overhear. “Someone burned my chicken coop down,” she said quietly. “Before that someone left me a note tacked to my front door telling me to be careful, and that he was watching me.”
    A shudder ran down her spine, recalling the morning she found the note and the horror she’d felt, knowing that a stranger stood on her porch while she and the boys slept inside the cabin. The note frightened her almost as much as the fire.
    “Maybe the note was meant for your husband.”
    She folded her arms across her chest. “I thank you for bringing me my things. I didn’t want a puppy, and I explained that to Mr. Rawlings this morning, but now that he’s here I’ll keep him. I’d welcome the security of having a dog here.” She added pointedly, “To keep strangers away.”
    “Seems like that would be Mr. Hudson’s job.” He tilted his head to the dog. “That little guy doesn’t weigh more than a pound. He’s not going to be much help for a while.”
    “I know that.” She grew flustered. Did