Free When the Heart Heals by Ann Shorey

behind her in a long braid. “I must have fallen asleep.” When she noticed Curt standing in the hallway, she ducked to one side, cheeks crimson. “I thank you. Just leave it, please. I’ll unpack directly.” Backing away, she closed the door.
    Pity clutched Rosemary’s heart. From the girl’s swollen eyes, she knew she’d been crying. The sooner she got her busy on a new enterprise, the sooner Jolene would feel useful.

    The following morning, Rosemary woke with a sense of dread nagging at her. She’d promised herself she’d collect her share of the Haggertys’ payment today, but the thought of facing Dr. Stewart was enough to remove all joy from the morning.
    She shoved her feet into wool slippers and threw her wrapper over her shoulders. No sense delaying what had to be done. As soon as she opened the door, Bodie rose from his post, stretching. His body heat seeped from the floorboards to the soles of her feet.
    â€œYou’re supposed to sleep in the kitchen, not outside my room,” she said to him, secretly pleased at the thought of him keeping watch over her.
    Bodie wagged his tail and ran down the stairs toward the back door.
    She stepped onto the porch after him, shivering in the early morning chill. He circled the yard with his nose to theground. After a minute, he disappeared inside the greenhouse.
    Half-awake, it took Rosemary a moment to realize the door stood open. Her senses jangled. Although it was late March, the previous night had been chilly. Her tender plants might not survive the cold. She sped down the steps and along the path to the small outbuilding.
    Stepping through the entrance, she scrutinized the tidy tables. The mint plant appeared unaffected by the drop in temperature. Rosemary inspected each of the pots containing infant sprouts while Bodie nosed about the corners of the window-lined enclosure. On some of the stems, new leaves curled downward in the chill air. She shook her head. Nothing to do now but wait to see if they recovered.
    She took a final look around, trying to remember when she’d last watered. Surely the door had been latched upon returning to the house. But perhaps the distraction of Jolene’s arrival had made her careless.
    â€œRosemary?” The girl’s high-pitched voice warbled from the porch steps. “Where are you?”
    Bodie’s ears perked up when he heard Jolene. He bounded across the yard and stopped at her feet, wagging his tail.
    Rosemary ducked through the opening and fastened the door behind her. “I found the greenhouse open and went to check.” She rubbed her forehead as she crossed the yard. “I don’t understand how I could have been so forgetful.”
    â€œMaybe the door blew open. The wind howled last night.” She shuddered. “I don’t like that noise. Sounds like ghosts.”
    Rosemary slipped an arm around the girl’s shoulders. “There’s no such thing as ghosts. Besides, this house is stout. We won’t blow away.”
    She locked the back door, grateful for the heat radiating from the cookstove.
    â€œI got the fire going,” Jolene said. “The kettle’s on for tea. I think after a cup and a bite of toast I’ll be able to help you.” Her pale skin belied her brave words.
    Rosemary glanced at the corner of the worktable where she’d left a block of lard and a can of lye. “We’ll start this afternoon. Drink your tea and rest for a bit.” She blew out a long breath. “First, I’m going to see Dr. Stewart.”

    Dr. Stewart met Rosemary when she entered the waiting area. “Good. You changed your mind. I hoped you would.” He strode toward her, a broad smile on his face. “I’m willing to give you a little time to find a home for Miss Graves. Perhaps a week?”
    She wondered why he hadn’t noticed she was wearing her gray silk dress and spoon bonnet rather than her normal work