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of blue frogs and their red driver, purple and green dogs. And oddly, she realized when she woke enough to shut off the light, of Beckett Montgomery smiling at her as she walked down the stairs at her bookstore.

CHAPTER THREE

    CLARE PULLED INTO THE GRAVEL PARKING LOT BEHIND Turn The Page at nine. Since her mother had the boys for the day—God bless her—Clare had time to work in the quiet before Laurie came in to open. Shouldering her purse and briefcase, she crossed over to the back door, unlocked it. She flipped on lights as she went up the short flight of stairs, through the room where they stocked sidelines, and through to the front room of the store. She loved the feel of it, the way one section flowed into the next but remained distinct.
    The minute she’d seen the old town house just off The Square, she’d known it would be her place. She could still remember the excitement and nerves when she’d taken that leap of faith. But somehow, investing so much of the lump sum the army provided to the spouses of the fallen had made Clint part of what she’d done.
    What she’d needed to do for herself and her children.
    Buying the property, creating the business plan, opening accounts, buying supplies—and books, books, books. Interviewing potential employees, working on the layout. All of the intensity, the stress, the sheer volume of time and effort had helped her cope. Had helped her survive.
    She’d thought then, and knew now, the store had saved her. Without it, without the pressure, the work, the focus, she might have shattered and dissolved in those months after Clint’s death and before Murphy’s birth.
    She’d needed to be strong for her boys, for herself. To be strong, she had to have a purpose, a goal—and an income.
    Now she had this, she thought as she went behind the front counter to prepare the first pot of coffee of the day. The mom, the military wife—and widow—had built herself into a businesswoman, a proprietor, an employer.
    Between her sons and the store the hours were long, the work constant. But she loved it, she mused as she made herself a skinny latte. She loved being busy, had the deep personal satisfaction of knowing she could and did support herself and her kids while adding a solid business to her hometown.
    Couldn’t have done it without her parents—or without the support and affection of Clint’s. Or without friends like Avery, who’d given her commonsense business advice and a wailing wall.
    She carried the coffee upstairs, settled down at her desk. She booted up her computer and, because she’d thought of Clint’s parents, sent them a quick email with new snapshots of the kids attached before she got to work updating the store’s website.
    When Laurie came in, Clare called down a good morning. She gave the website a few more minutes before dealing with the rest of the email. After adding a few additional items to a pending order, she headed downstairs where Laurie sat at her computer behind the low wall.
    “Got some nice Internet orders overnight. I—” Laurie cocked her brows over chocolate brown eyes. “Hey, you look great today.”
    “Well, thanks.” Pleased, Clare did a little turn in the grass green sundress. “But I can’t afford to give you a raise.”
    “Seriously. You’re all glowy.”
    “Who isn’t in this heat? I’m going out, getting my tour of the inn, but I’ve got my phone if you need me. Otherwise, I’ll probably be back in thirty.”
    “Take your time. And I want details. Oh, you didn’t send in that book order to Penguin yet, did you?”
    “No, I thought I’d do it when I got back.”
    “Perfect. Some of these orders take us down to one copy of a couple titles. I’ll give you the deets before you send it in.”
    “Good enough. Need anything while I’m out?”
    “Could you box up one of the Montgomery boys?”
    Clare smiled as she opened the front door. “No preference?”
    “I trust your judgment.”
    On a laugh, Clare went out,