Sasha’s Dad (19 page)

Making love.

She blinked and looked up.

His back was to her as he zipped his jeans. She glanced at her bedside clock. Only six.

“What’s the rush?” Her voice sounded husky.

Sultry. Sated.

He turned back to face her in the semidark.

“I’ve got some patients to see this morning. Sasha won’t be back until late tonight and I have a lot to do at home.”

His expression was inscrutable. Not because of the morning darkness, but because of the decidedly closed look he shot her.

Claire sat up and dragged the sheets with her. She held the bedclothes against her naked breasts. She found it odd that she felt so shy and vulnerable around the man she’d given everything to last night.

“Claire, I don’t want to put us through this.” He motioned with his hand, pointing briefly to her and then himself.

“Put us through
what,
Dutch? I thought the whole point of last night was that we’d buried our past.”

And started something new. Hope snuffed out in her heart as quickly as her desire had flared.

His stance was too familiar. Angry. Stubborn.

“Claire, I should’ve kept this the way we knew it had to be. I’m sorry. This was a mistake. I’m not going to lead you on.”

“And Sasha?” she said through numb lips.

“Sasha… Sasha will be fine. I’d never keep her from coming here. She’s begun to think of you more as family than a friend. I can’t take that away from her.” His hand was on the doorknob.

He really was going to leave like this.

Claire tried to speak, but couldn’t come up with any words. She’d be damned if she’d let him see her cry.

“Sasha will be back next week. I’ll see you when I pick her up.” With that he left. She heard the side door close behind him and flopped back onto her bed.

The twins.

“Ugh.” She wasn’t in the mood for twenty questions.

They knocked again and she heard the murmur of voices as she went to the kitchen.

“Hey, come on in.” Claire opened the door and immediately turned back toward the stove so they wouldn’t see her face in the bright morning sunshine.

“We thought we’d come over and get your lists for the festival next weekend.”

“Oh, uh, sure. Do you want some tea?” As soon as she asked Claire wanted to kick herself. Why was she inviting them to stay any longer than they had to?

“Claire, are you okay?” The caring in Jewel’s voice hit Claire hard.

“No, actually, I’m not.” She turned around and faced her younger siblings.

“What happened?” Jenna sounded shocked, as if she’d never thought her big sister could cry.

“Nothing. Everything. Well, nothing.” Claire wiped her eyes, blew her nose into a paper napkin and looked directly at the twins.

“I’m finally letting go of some emotional baggage I’ve hung on to for way too long,” she finally said.

The twins exchanged a worried glance.

“Come on, girls, I’m not losing my mind. In fact, I may have found
myself.
”

The twins spoke in unison. “Huh?”

“What did you say?”

Claire breathed out her exasperation.

“I came home over two years ago to find out who I really am, and to belong to a community where I could become part of something special.” She sniffled, but continued talking. “There’s been unpleasantness at times, especially when I was confronted with the sins of my past.”

“Give me a break, Claire. It’s
us,
your sisters. We’re not some cable news network.” Jenna’s stubborn streak was as wide as Claire’s.

“You know you can trust us, Claire. You’ve always been there for us—let us be here for you.” Jewel’s green eyes were kind. Reassuring. Both girls were younger by more than a decade, but they weren’t kids anymore. At some point they’d become women.

How had Claire missed that?

“This is obviously about Dutch.” Jenna was matter-of-fact, no censure in her voice.

“Yeah, it is, but it’s also about me, and Natalie and now Sasha.” As soon as she said Sasha’s name, Claire sank into the nearest kitchen chair and the tears fell again.

“I can’t lose Sasha. I really love her as if she were my own. But Dutch and I— A future for us is too complicated, even if I wanted to try to change his mind.”

Claire toyed with her napkin, remembering the scene this morning.

“I never thought he and I would ever be close again. Or even pretend to be friends. But one thing’s led to another, and with Sasha out here so often, I’ve…seen more of Dutch.”

She grew silent. Mental pictures of Dutch in her barn, in her driveway, in this kitchen, in her bed—they all flashed through her mind.

“And?” Once again, the twins spoke in unison.

“Well, what do you think?” Claire rolled her eyes, sighed, then stared at her napkin. “Our attraction was always there, but lately it’s been crazy—and last night, we, well, we made love.”

“I knew it!” Jewel slapped her hands on the round table. Jenna hushed her.

“It has to be the stupidest thing I’ve done. Other than being there for Sasha, there’s no room for me in Dutch’s life.”

“Claire, Dutch doesn’t strike me as the type who’d get involved with any woman on a casual basis. He has his daughter to think about.” That was Jenna, the practical one.

“But you two do have that old history—or was last night a type of closure?” Jewel was more the drama queen of the two.

“Closure?” Claire really hated seeing things in the light of day. It’d been a wonderful night with Dutch. If she was the romantic type she’d call it magical.

But facts were facts.

Dutch had been distant and withdrawn this morning. He hadn’t even stayed for breakfast, and Sasha wasn’t due to be picked up from the spring band trip until later tonight.

“You know, a way to put the past to bed.” Jewel winced at her own pun.

Claire shook her head. “No, last night wasn’t about closure, not for me.” It’d been the natural result of the weeks they’d worked together in the barn, shared conversations about Sasha and, to some extent, the past. Last night, Claire had felt she and Dutch were alone for the first time. Without Sasha, obviously, but without Natalie’s ghost, too.

“Why don’t we get started on the Sheep and Wool Festival stuff and maybe as the day goes by you’ll figure it out. I have a feeling that Dutch ran off scared. He’ll come around, Claire.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Claire didn’t agree, but had no energy left to argue with the twins.

She forced her mind on to the festival. She had a lot to accomplish and very little time to do it. She needed a plan.

“Let’s get the pickup loaded by Wednesday night,” she said, “so I can run it up to the fairgrounds Thursday. Since I may have to make two trips, I’d love it if one of you could ride up with me.”

“I can.” They spoke in unison yet again.

“Great. Let’s get to the rest of the prep work.” Claire threw herself into the tasks in a futile attempt to forget Dutch.

As if that was even possible.

This wasn’t the first time he’d been with a woman since Natalie died, but it
was
the first time he hadn’t compared her to Natalie. It had been Claire, no one else.

And it scared the hell out of him.

He’d moved on past Natalie’s illness and death, as much as he could. But he had more than himself to think about. He had Sasha. And last night, in the middle of loving Claire, he’d forgotten about Sasha. He’d only been thinking of himself.

And Claire.

His cell phone rang and he looked at caller ID as it flashed on the counter.

Sasha.

“Hey, baby girl, what’s going on?” He hoped he’d managed to keep his guilt—and apprehension—out of his voice. Sasha didn’t usually call from a field trip.

“Dad, Mr. Flint wants you to phone him on his cell. He’s pissed off because I was in the bathroom with Naomi too long and our group leader, Mrs. Sneller, couldn’t find us.”

He took a breath. At least Sasha was okay and unharmed.

“Hang on a minute, Sasha. First, cut out the bad language. Second, what do you mean you were in the bathroom? In your hotel room?”

“No, at the amusement park.”

Dutch looked at his watch. “It’s only ten o’clock. How long have you been at the park?”

“Since eight, Dad. They opened early for the schools, because we all performed yesterday.” She didn’t hide her annoyance.

“Watch the attitude, Sasha. I’m still not clear on why you were in the bathroom for so long.”

She sighed impatiently.

“Naomi wanted me to come and talk to her. She’s feeling all confused again.”

“Confused? About what?”

“Ask Claire.” Of course she knew about Naomi; she’d told him as much.

Before he could recall what Claire had told him, Sasha continued. “So I went in there to, like, talk to her and it took me an hour to convince her that she should, like, come back out and have fun on the rides with us. But by then we missed meeting everyone for the hourly check by the fountain, and Mrs. Sneller, like, freaked out and called Mr. Flint.”

Dutch hated the cell phone sometimes. He’d much rather see Sasha in person so he could read her body language and have a better idea of what was truth and what was twelve-year-old histrionics.

“What’s Mr. Flint’s number?”

“It’s on the permission slip that I left on the fridge.”

He looked at the refrigerator door. “Got it. Stay close to Mrs. Sneller, okay? We’ll talk more about this when you get home.”

“Okay, okay.”

Dutch pushed End and punched in Mr. Flint’s cell number. He’d stayed calm through most of Sasha’s girlhood dramas, but when she got her flippant attitude it infuriated him.

The call connected. “Mr. Flint.”

Mr. Flint didn’t elaborate except to say Sasha was a good kid, but her choice of a friend in Naomi wasn’t in her best interests. As far as Mr. Flint knew, the girls hadn’t been smoking or doing drugs, only talking as Sasha had said. Naomi was in the midst of a difficult home life. But the fact that neither girl had checked in with their chaperone for more than an hour was a violation of the field trip rules.

“Do you want me to come and get her?” Dutch checked the clock. He could be in Hershey, Pennsylvania, in about two hours.

“That won’t be necessary. I think, in Sasha’s case, having her call you and keeping her off the rides for the rest of the day will be enough.” Mr. Flint had taught Sasha since sixth grade; it’d been almost two years now. He obviously thought Sasha wasn’t the problem, and Dutch believed him.

“I appreciate your talking to me, and for taking the time with Sasha. I’ll address this further when she gets home.”

“That’s fine, Mr. Archer, but like I said, Sasha’s not a bad kid. In fact, she’s one of the good ones. I think she got herself too involved in whatever Naomi’s problem of the day is and lost track of time.”

“Okay, thanks.” Dutch hung up, shaking his head. His daughter had told him to ask Claire about it. As if Claire knew more about raising a girl than he did.

Maybe she did.

He shook his head again. “What an idiot I can be, Rascal,” he told the dog. Rascal looked up at him and whimpered as if he agreed.

“I’m sorry, Dad. I messed up.” He heard the genuine regret in her tone.

“I’m sorry, too, Sasha. It’s not easy to say no to our friends, but when they choose the wrong path, we have to. If you’re worried about Naomi, you tell me or a teacher at school. Tell the principal if you have to. But don’t put yourself at risk for anyone, ever.”

He drove the truck through the quiet streets of Dovetail and let the silence settle a bit. Sasha needed to understand that he wasn’t bending on this.

“Got it?”

“Yes, Dad.” Her tired “you don’t get it voice” was back. He’d take this up with her again in the morning. And maybe call Claire to ask if she’d talk to Sasha out at the farm this week.

Claire.

Why did he even kid himself that he could raise Sasha on his own?