Sasha’s Dad Read online

  “Yeah! I heard he’s been bringing his daughter around, too.” Jenna smirked.

  “You never told me!” Jewel slapped Jenna’s arm. “Yeah, Claire. What’s going on?”

  Claire rolled her eyes. “I do love being back here, but this is one part I didn’t miss.” She referred to what she called the girl-in-the-fishbowl syndrome. Anything that happened in Dovetail stayed in Dovetail and on everybody’s wagging tongues.

  “You’re stalling, Claire. Give us the goods.” Jewel was not letting this go.

  Claire took her time, breaking off half a cookie and chasing it with lemon water.

  “Dutch brought his daughter, Sasha, over to meet the llamas,” she eventually said. “Sasha and I hit it off. They’ve been to visit maybe half a dozen times. She loves the animals.”

  Claire kept to the facts, as the twins were bound to read volumes into each word.

  “Ginny’s on her way to law school at the University of Baltimore—” she nodded at Jenna “—with you. Sasha’s going to be lonely for an older female in her life—and it’s nice that I can provide some of Natalie’s history.”

  Claire took another bite of her cookie, astonished that neither Jewel nor Jenna had interrupted her musing.

  “Sasha’s at an age where she’s naturally curious about what her mother was like at eleven or twelve.” She glanced at each twin in turn. “Since Natalie and I were inseparable at that age, it makes sense for me to be in her life right now. And I want to be. It’s a way of bringing back some good memories.” She splayed her hands on the kitchen table. “It’s also giving me a chance to make things up to Natalie. To make up for the time I wasn’t here when she was sick.”

  “How’s Dutch taking it? He must be mad that Sasha likes you, in spite of what you—”

  Jenna visibly clamped her mouth shut. Jewel shot her twin a glowering look. Too late. Claire could already feel the wounds in her heart start to seep.

  Jewel tried to cover for her blunder. “In spite of missing her mother, I mean.”

  Claire gave them a wry smile. “Actually, Sasha isn’t so wrapped up in Natalie at this point. Yes, Natalie was her mother and she’ll never forget her. But I get the impression that she’s ready to move on, that she doesn’t want to be grieving her mother all the time.” The way Dutch still did.

  “So Dutch is letting go of his resentment?”

  “Are you sure you want to get involved with them?”

  Both twins spoke at once.

  Claire released a short laugh. “No, it’s clear to me that Dutch isn’t letting go as much as he probably should. But who am I to judge? It’s none of my business.”

  Jewel and Jenna shared a “she’s only kidding herself” look.

  “Don’t you think you could make a difference? You and Dutch did have something once.” Jewel turned back to Jenna for help.

  “Yes, when you were in high school I thought you were going to marry him after graduation, or at least after college.” Jenna raised her brows for effect.

  “You guys were eight years old. What did you know?”

  “Not as much as we know today, and today we know that the whole town’s talking about how Dutch looks since he’s been taking care of your llamas. When we ran into Ginny in Baltimore she told us that his positive attitude’s come back. That’s huge, Claire. He’s been the grouch around here for over three years.”

  “Longer if you count when Natalie got sick,” Jenna added.

  “I should’ve known you’d talk to Ginny.” Claire looked at her younger sisters, shaking her head.

  “Ginny talked to us. Saw us at the university open house and filled us in. She’s doing a refresher course before her courses begin. It’s really hard for her to finally leave for law school, but she’s already sacrificed, what, two years?”

  Claire sighed. “I’m not doing this for Dutch or Ginny. Like I said, I’m doing it for Natalie, but, most importantly, for Sasha.” As she spoke, an incredible certainty came over her.

  All along she’d thought that somehow she would make up for her behavior with Natalie. She’d never expected it would be through Natalie’s daughter, but the opportunity was staring her in the face.

  “What about you and Dutch, Claire? Natalie’s been gone for years now.”

  “Maybe three years sounds like a long time to you, but I’m sure Dutch would beg to differ.”

  “Seriously, Claire, what’s keeping you two from at least having fun together?” Jenna was so fresh faced and naive in her query that Claire laughed.

  “There’s nothing between Dutch and me. Cool it.”

  “But you two were best friends for ages! And the four of you—Dutch, Natalie, you and Tom,” Jenna said, referring to Natalie’s twin brother, “were inseparable my entire childhood.”

  “You and Dutch did date in high school, I remember!”

  Yes, they had dated. More than date—as Jenna observed; Claire had believed she and Dutch were forging a basis for the rest of their lives. Until one night when Dutch’s efforts to comfort Natalie turned into lovemaking…

  You’re not being fair. You’d already created a huge rift with your college plans.

  “Yeah, but we broke up when Dutch and Natalie got…involved.” Claire’s hands started to itch, and the room felt unseasonably warm.

  “You mean when he thought he got her pregnant.” Jenna, always the more practical of the twins, spat out the statement.

  “That’s old history.”

  “I never understood why you two never got back together. I mean, Natalie wasn’t pregnant, and they didn’t get married right away. Why didn’t you and Dutch ever work things out?”

  “Our time had passed. I was going to conquer the world, Dutch had vet school ahead of him and Natalie planned to get her B.A. and her master’s in history so she could be an archivist for the state.” She stifled another deep sigh. Fatigue overwhelmed her.

  “Dutch had fallen in love with Natalie,” Claire went on. “And she fell for him, too. They were meant to be together at that point.” She stated what she’d only recently come to accept as the truth. It had taken her a decade of sorting out her feelings to understand it.

  “You don’t look so good, sis.” Jewel would be a great physical therapist. Her empathy didn’t quit.

  “I’m fine. It’s getting hotter in here, isn’t it?”

  Jewel and Jenna looked at each other, then at Claire.

  “We’re not hot.”

  Claire ran a shaky hand through her hair. If they knew about her current attraction to Dutch they’d have her married and living a fairy-tale life.

  The thought of spending the rest of her life with him wasn’t something she could afford to entertain.

  “Well, I’m hot. I need to get back to the farm. Sasha’s coming over in a few hours. Thanks for making lunch, Jewel.”

  “No problem. You can do it next week.”

  “You bet.”

  Claire got out of the house and slipped behind the wheel of her hybrid compact. It was her running-about-town car. She had a previously owned, beaten-up pickup at the farm that she used for hauling supplies.

  She was grateful she’d parked some distance from the house so the twins wouldn’t see her slumped back in her seat, head pressed against the neck rest. The discussion about Dutch and their history reverberated through her mind.

  She turned the key in the ignition and blasted the air-conditioning, even though the thermometer said it was a mild seventy degrees Fahrenheit.

  Guilt clawed at her. The twins were right; everything that had happened between her and Dutch was ancient history.

  Yet she’d never swallowed her pride or looked past her constant attraction to Dutch to reach out to Natalie. After she’d served as maid of honor, she’d given up her acting career.

  Because every time she’d been with Natalie and Dutch, she’d had to pretend she was fine, happy in her own life.

  And not going crazy with her unrequited love for Dutch and her emotional betray
al of Natalie.

  She shoved the gearshift into Drive and left her parents’ circular driveway. Memories of that last spring in Dovetail, before college, washed over her. She’d played the victim so well when she’d returned from her weekend away and found out about Dutch and Natalie.

  One memory remained intact no matter how many years had gone by. She’d ignored it for so long, but the hurt ran deep. The self-recriminations hadn’t gone away.

  It was the memory of how she’d let Dutch go first, before his night with Natalie. She’d backed off from him that last semester of high school. She’d felt he was too possessive, too needy, and he didn’t want to even talk about her college plans. She didn’t understand why he wasn’t equally excited about her decision to go far away to college. He was brilliant and could’ve gone anywhere. But when he was accepted by a college close enough to commute back to Dovetail on the weekends, he’d jumped at it.

  Yes, she’d let the relationship go. When she went on an overnight trip her senior year, she and Dutch had all but broken up.

  By the time Dutch got together with Natalie the weekend Claire was out of town, his only attachment to her was one of habit. They’d been together so long, grown up side by side, that they’d left things as they were. No big fight, no messy breakup.

  Until Dutch had wound up in Natalie’s arms, Natalie in his. It was almost a natural evolution; they were all changing so much, so quickly, back then. And Tom’s fatal accident had pushed Dutch and Natalie over the edge, to each other.

  All the justification, all the rationales in the world, hadn’t kept the truth from devastating Claire when she came back that weekend. Dutch and Natalie had sat down with her and they’d faced one another in complete honesty. Natalie couldn’t hide anything from her best friend, and Dutch would rather Claire found out from them than from gossip or rumors.

  Claire knew the story by heart. Intellectually she understood what had happened. Much of it hadn’t been personal, just part of a tough year in high school.

  But Claire had still ended up with a broken heart.

  A heart she’d come back to Dovetail to mend. She turned into her driveway and paused in front of the cottage that came with her property. She was going to use it as a shop, a place to sell her llama fiber. Like the farmhouse, the barn and this cottage, building her heart wasn’t going to happen without a lot of hard work.

  CHAPTER SIX

  DUTCH GRITTED his teeth as Sasha went on and on about Claire, still excited about their visits to the llama farm that had happened almost a week ago.

  “She’s nice, Daddy. I don’t see why you’re so upset about me wanting to go back to see Claire.”

  “You’re too busy with school, dance and 4-H. And did I mention your dad has a job to do, as well?”

  Sasha shot him one of her knowing smiles. When had she started doing that—making adult expressions with her child’s face?

  “I could get a ride from Aunt Ginny, or you could drop me off. Claire said she’d help me with my 4-H project if I want to do it with the crias or about llamas.”

  “Let’s keep the focus on getting your math homework done and dinner on the table, okay? Besides, we have to get used to not having Aunt Ginny around. You’re losing your chauffeur, kid.”

  “Humph.” Sasha turned back to her open math book while Dutch stirred the spaghetti sauce he’d pulled from the freezer.

  Dutch recognized her posture, her attitude. It had been Natalie’s whenever she felt she knew more about something than Dutch did.

  “Dad!” Sasha’s concentration on her figures had lasted all of ten seconds. “You can sign a permission slip for me to get off the bus at the last stop—it’s at the bottom of Claire’s drive. The bus goes right by it every morning. And every afternoon on the way back to the bus depot.”

  She wasn’t giving him any wiggle room.

  “We’ll talk about it later, Sasha. Besides, Claire’s really busy with the llamas and trying to get her farm up and running.” He frowned. “She didn’t outright invite you, did she?”

  “Of course she did, Dad.” Sasha’s impatience shone from her eyes. “You know she’d love to have me out there.” Sasha looked down, pouting. “Besides, she was a friend of Mom’s. I like hearing about Mom.”

  Crap.

  He knew he shouldn’t have brought Sasha after that first visit. It only gave her and Claire time to talk. From the snippets he’d caught, most of the conversation revolved around Natalie as a child.

  He sighed and added some basil to the tomato sauce. It wasn’t the conversation that irked him; it was the fact that Sasha had already bonded with Claire. Just like that.

  Dutch put down the spoon and covered the pot of sauce. He made sure the flame was as low as he could get it before he slid onto the stool next to Sasha. He turned her toward him and held her hands.

  “I know you miss Mom, honey. You realize you can ask me or Aunt Ginny anything you want to about her, right?”

  “Of course I do, Dad. But you have to admit, neither you or Aunt Ginny was as close to Mom as Claire was, not when you were little or even my age.”

  Dutch looked into eyes as brown as Natalie’s had been. When did his little girl become such a young woman?

  “No. You’re right about that.” He’d known Claire forever—hell, they’d started with wooden blocks and had gone through video games, computer games, you name it, together. His interest in Natalie had come later, when it was obvious Claire had her sights set on anything but Dovetail. Or him.

  Claire, however, had been part of Natalie’s life forever.

  Dutch kissed Sasha’s forehead.

  “You can go with me next time, but please promise me that you won’t get your hopes up too much. Claire’s never had her own kids, and she doesn’t have to cater to us, okay?”

  “Dad, I’m not going to force you guys to be friends or anything. I get it.” Her posture of maturity almost fooled him.

  “Great.” He stood and went back to the spaghetti sauce.

  He knew Sasha didn’t really get it. Sasha didn’t want him to think she was playing matchmaker, but he saw the warning signs. She had no idea that he and Claire hadn’t needed a matchmaker once upon a time.

  His mind’s eye glimpsed an old image. Claire on an azure beach towel, her golden skin covered only by her bright orange bikini.

  His hand shook as he dipped the wooden spoon into the sauce, and it wasn’t from hunger. Neither was the perspiration that gathered on the back of his neck.

  CLAIRE STOOD on the stepladder and reached her dust mop to the top edge of the cottage wall. A little bit of oil soap and a lot of work was making the old place downright homey.

  She loved the smell of the cleaning potions as they washed away the dust and the musty odor of decades of disuse. The previous owners had used the cottage as a guesthouse, until they grew old and the friends who once visited passed on.

  Claire only knew about the cottage and the history of her farmhouse because she’d grown up in Dovetail. She made a mental note to go to the state archives at some point and make sure she’d gathered all the information available on this property. There was bound to be a good marketing angle in the history.

  As she cleaned, moving from wall to wall in the tiny house, she envisioned the shelves where she’d put bins of yarn. The counter with the cash register could go closer to the front door. It wasn’t going to be a huge store, but big enough to draw people in and provide education about llamas and llama fiber. Maybe she’d even have a few alpacas in the next year or two.

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself. Become an expert on llamas first.” She spoke to the cobwebs her mop collected in a corner.

  “Do you always talk to yourself when you work?”

  Dutch’s voice carried up to her ears at the same moment she felt his hands on her ankles.

  “I was afraid I’d startle you,” he explained.

  She took in a deep breath and regarded him from her perch. She clung to the mop so he wouldn’
t see her hands shaking. The warmth of his fingers on her ankles provided more than a steadying factor. Bolts of excitement shot up her legs and warmed her belly.

  And it was only half past nine in the morning.

  “You did—I’m surprised I didn’t hear you with the door open.” She’d left the front door ajar to catch the fresh breeze blowing across the fields.

  “You were obviously in another place.” The lines around Dutch’s eyes and mouth deepened. Was that actually a smile on his face? In her presence?

  “Here, let me help you down.”

  Before she had a chance to do anything else, Dutch grasped her by the waist and lifted her onto the cottage’s wide-planked floor. She looked at him.

  “I suppose lifting animals all day makes that easier for you, but you could’ve given yourself a hernia.”

  He laughed. Claire maintained her neutral expression, but knew her eyes reflected her chagrin.

  “Trust me. I’ve carried calves and crias heavier than you.”

  Yeah, right.

  She kept the thought to herself. The awareness between them grabbed hold of Claire’s heart and she tried to catch her breath.

  “Is something wrong with Nip or Tuck? Or Stormy?”

  “Hmm?” Dutch was staring at her face and, more pointedly, her lips.

  She took a step back. Dutch got the hint and the light in his eyes dimmed. He was back to business.

  “The llamas—are they okay?” She repeated her query as a way of creating space between them.

  “I haven’t checked them since this morning, but I’m sure they’re fine. I think it’s safe to say we can go to once-a-day, even every-other-day, checks.”

  Relief and gratitude lifted the invisible weight from Claire’s shoulders. “They’re doing that well?”

  “Yes, they are.”

  “I can never thank you enough for all you’ve done, Dutch. If you’d come a few minutes later…”

  “But I didn’t, and you were there, doing whatever you could. It’s my job, Claire.” He brushed off her thanks. He was in a better mood than she’d seen since moving back, and certainly since he’d been tending to the llamas.