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Waiting for Dutch to finish dealing with Stormy stretched Claire’s anxiety to the max.
“How is she?” Claire asked the top of his silver mane. That was all she had in her line of vision.
“Shh.” Dutch’s admonition cut across the stable.
Claire kept rubbing the baby and decided to focus on naming the twins. They would both make it. They had to.
After what seemed like hours, but in reality wasn’t more than twenty minutes, Dutch snapped off his gloves.
He made direct eye contact with Claire, and she squirmed at the intensity of his gaze. But it wasn’t about her, or her and Dutch. It was about Stormy.
“She’s okay for now. Her uterus is intact and the afterbirth looked normal, which is a positive sign.” Dutch shook his head. “However, she’s had a huge shock to her system. She won’t be out of the woods for a day or so. I’m going to start her on IV antibiotics as a precaution.”
“Is there any way to avoid the stronger medications? She’s still young and I really don’t like—”
“No, there is no other option—you made sure of that when you took this birthing on yourself. Llamas, livestock—” Dutch waved his hand around her barn “—aren’t pets, Claire. They’re domestic animals who serve a good purpose and need to be respected as such. They weren’t put here for your entertainment.”
His emotional sucker punch echoed Claire’s own thoughts and drove the taste of bile into the back of her throat.
“This isn’t entertainment for me, Dutch. These are my animals, my vocation.”
She hated the electricity that quaked between them, even as they faced each other in total disgust, ignoring any remembrance of their past relationship.
“You’ve never been one for commitment. Is this something else to throw away when you grow tired of it?”
Her mind finished the observation: The way you threw away your best friend? Your hometown?
As soon as he fired the words at her and before Claire could reply, Dutch looked down.
“Damn it all to hell.” He slapped the OB gloves against his thigh. After a few deep breaths, he looked back up at her.
“This has nothing to do with you, or me or our past, Claire. It has to do with your llama. If you want her to live, you need to follow my directions implicitly.”
“I’m sorry—”
He held up his hand. “I’ll help you until Charlie gets back—or your animals are healthy. That’s it.” He nodded at the firstborn cria. “He’s doing okay, so I’m comfortable leaving him here. But the one you’re holding—I’d rather take her back to my office to monitor.”
“That could kill the mother!” Claire clutched the tiny cria as if it were her own child.
Dutch sighed. “I know. And we’re shorthanded in town for the next week as far as vets go. I’ll set up what you need for a llama preemie clinic right here and show you how to use the equipment. I’ll drop by frequently, and you can call me anytime you need help.”
He had her in the grip of his stare and she watched as his lips flattened into a thin line. “I know there was little reason for you or Charlie to expect twins—this was a rare instance for a llama birth.”
He looked back at her. “No more doing anything with regard to your animals on your own. You’re not a vet. Got it?”
Claire swallowed, but kept her mouth shut and nodded.
His gaze didn’t waver from her face.
“Let’s get something straight. We don’t talk about our lives now, or before or whenever. Nothing personal.”
“Right. Nothing personal.” What else was she going to say to the man she’d hurt more than anyone—other than his dead wife?
CHAPTER TWO
SASHA LOOKED at her fairy alarm clock. Fifteen minutes until the fairy’s wand hit the twelve and the alarm rang at six sharp. She reached under her bed for her cell phone to see if her best friend, Maddie, had texted her yet. They always checked to see if the other would be at the bus stop.
Her fingers brushed against a familiar organza cloth cover. The big red book.
The big red book was more of an album. It sat in a large, paper-covered box. Her mom had put it together for her before she died. When she gave Sasha the gift, Sasha was only eight. Mom had told her that someday it would help her smile and remember how much Mom loved her.
Sasha kept the box under her bed, but hadn’t opened it in a while. She’d opened it a lot those first few months, that first horrible year. But since her eleventh birthday last year she hadn’t looked at it as often. She still had the last photograph taken of her and Mom on her bulletin board and she looked at that every day.
In the photograph, Sasha sat on the bed next to Mom, whose head was bald, her eyes dark in her pale face. Sometimes the longing overwhelmed Sasha and she cried. But not so much anymore. She would never forget Mom, but as the years went by she was more comfortable with thinking about Mom in heaven, with no chemo, no sickness.
Sasha couldn’t remember a time that her mother hadn’t been sick. Maybe when she was really little, but pretty much since the end of kindergarten Mom had been seeing doctors all the time.
Sasha believed deep in her heart that Mom thought she and Dad should “move on” and get their lives going without worrying about what Mom would think. She wasn’t planning to ask Dad about this—he was too busy with the vet business and now he was worried because Aunt Ginny had to go away to law school and Sasha would be Without a Female Mentor.
A knock at her door startled her.
“Sasha, are you up? You have to take your shower now.”
Sasha glanced at her fairy alarm clock.
She’d stayed in bed ten minutes longer than usual.
“Okay, Aunt Ginny, I’m up.”
“YOU LOOK LIKE HELL.” Dottie Vasquez made the observation as she poured Dutch his third cup of coffee.
“We can’t all look as good as you at six in the morning.” He mustered a smile for the woman who owned the diner. Dottie was his mother’s age, but had the spirit of a teenager.
She smiled back at him. “No, but I’ve seen you looking better, Dutch.” She put the coffeepot on the burner, then returned to chat. The breakfast rush was over for the early farmers, and she had a few minutes’ rest before the next wave of customers came in. Dutch knew this was what Dottie liked more than serving coffee or food to hungry people. She liked to talk—and to listen.
“Word is, the lights were on at the Llama Haven all night.”
Dutch met Dottie’s blue eyes, still bright even surrounded by crow’s-feet. “I swear, Dot, I hope the U.S. government knows where to come when they need information about anything. Do you ever miss a beat?”
His banter didn’t distract Dottie.
“With Charlie and Missy out of town,” she said, referring to the other vet and his wife, “I figured you were over there tending to a birth. Does Dovetail have a new baby llama?”
“As a matter of fact, it has two.” He sipped his coffee. He usually had one or two cups in the morning—his work gave him enough of a jump start. But today he’d needed more.
“Twins?” Dottie’s eyebrows rose and her next question formed on her lips but the diner door flew open and a crowd of truckers tumbled in.
“Hold that thought, Dutch. I want the details.”
Dottie got the crew settled. After she’d put her top waitress on the job, she came back to the counter. Dutch considered using the opportunity to escape, but didn’t. Dottie was harmless and had listened to many of his woes over the years. She was nice to Sasha, too.
But she didn’t sit down next to him again. The diner was hopping with hungry customers.
“Twins?”
Dutch stood and met her gaze. “Yeah, twins—and I’m not sure the little one’s going to make it. I need to get back out there and check up on her.”
“I imagine it’s easier for you and Claire to get along when you both have something to focus on.”
Dottie didn’t have to explain. Dutch knew.
Other than yourselves, your history.
He shrugged on his coat, pulled out his wallet.
“Exactly.” He put down the money, as always with a generous tip. Dutch appreciated being able to stay in a small town and raise his daughter here, and he was more than willing to pay for it. He knew Dottie had lost business since they put in that big national franchise breakfast place off the highway, but she’d kept her prices reasonable and still served the best coffee this side of Chesapeake Bay.
“See you later, Dot.”
“See you.”
Dutch walked out into the parking lot and looked up at the sky. There was nothing like a Maryland sunrise, and today’s had been no exception. The last remaining streaks of pink and purple faded into the clear sky, harbinger of another cold, windy day.
He got into the front seat of his truck and glanced at the clock as he switched on the ignition. If he was lucky he’d make it home in time to sit with Sasha through her breakfast.
Then he’d have to return to check on the cria. And face Claire’s wary green eyes, her hesitant behavior around him.
“Good. Keeps her on her toes,” he muttered to himself as he turned into his driveway.
“SASHA, TIME TO get out!” Sasha heard Aunt Ginny’s voice through the bathroom door and turned off the shower.
“Okay!” Sasha buried her face in her towel.
She was going to miss Aunt Ginny, who’d told Sasha last week that it was time for all of them to move on. Dutch was Aunt Ginny’s older brother, but she’d been like a big sister to him and Sasha these past few years.
At first, Sasha didn’t like it when Aunt Ginny had said their house felt like Mom was still here. Ginny had come to live with them toward the end of Natalie’s life, when hospice had taken over, and Sasha remembered spending lots of time with her aunt. But lately Sasha had started thinking maybe Aunt Ginny was right. Her friends whose parents were divorced had either bought new houses or fixed up their old ones. And they got new husbands or wives.
Daddy didn’t act as though he ever wanted a new wife, not even a girlfriend. He said he never wanted to forget Mom. Neither did Sasha.
But a new mom might not be so bad.
She had distinct memories of Mom and of her dying—the days Mom spent lying on the couch and on what Sasha knew was a hospital bed. But somehow Aunt Ginny had helped it not be too sad. Sasha remembered the times when no one could stop the sad stuff. Like when Mom had bad reactions to the medicine or when it got really close to the end and all she did was sleep. She seemed to fade away that last summer.
Sasha was so glad Aunt Ginny had stayed. She was going to miss her, but she was also looking forward to being alone with Dad. Whenever Aunt Ginny had to go to Baltimore or on trips with her study group, Sasha had liked the father-daughter time with Dad. Plus she loved being with him on his job. She loved animals at least as much as he did.
Sasha hurried down the stairs and hit the wide-plank pine flooring of the hallway. Rascal clipped along beside her, trying to herd her into the kitchen.
“Good morning, sunshine!” Aunt Ginny met her halfway and hugged her tight. Sasha was eleven, almost twelve, but never tired of Aunt Ginny’s hugs or kisses.
Aunt Ginny pulled back a bit and looked into Sasha’s eyes. Aunt Ginny had Dad’s deep blue eyes, which Sasha often wished she had, too. Instead, she’d inherited her Mom’s brown eyes, which Dad and Aunt Ginny told her were beautiful and she’d be grateful for when she got older.
“What?” She hated it when Aunt Ginny looked at her for too long.
“How are you today? Good?”
“Yeah.” Sasha squirmed out of Aunt Ginny’s arms and went over to the counter. Someone had cleaned it up and put all the appliances away.
“Where’s the toaster?” Aunt Ginny never put things back in the same place twice.
“Under the counter. I bought some cinnamon waffles yesterday.”
“Thanks!” Sasha loved it when Aunt Ginny did the grocery shopping. Dad was more practical and would’ve bought plain waffles or no waffles at all—just some regular bread for toasting.
Sasha saw all the thick books Aunt Ginny had on the breakfast counter.
“Are you still studying?” She thought Aunt Ginny’s exams were over.
“I’m reviewing. When I start law school, I’ll be expected to be on top of all these subjects.”
“Huh.” Sasha enjoyed school and homework, but didn’t know how adults stayed awake when they were reading such thick books with all that small type.
Aunt Ginny was almost done with her bachelor’s degree. She’d done it from Dovetail, going into College Park as needed. Dad said Aunt Ginny had made a Great Sacrifice for them. Now she had to go live in Baltimore and go to the university there for law school. She’d be leaving soon to attend a spring review class before courses started at the end of the summer.
“Where’s Daddy?” Sasha spread peanut butter on her waffle. Aunt Ginny had sat down with her coffee and books.
“He got a late-night call.”
As soon as the words were out, Rascal whimpered and ran to the kitchen door. Sasha heard the slam as her dad got out of his truck.
“Daddy!” Sasha went over to the door as Dutch opened it and jumped at him. He wrapped his arms around her and gave her a hug.
“Hi, sweetheart. You smell like a bunch of flowers.” He tugged at Sasha’s still-damp hair.
“It’s the shampoo Aunt Ginny got for me last Christmas.”
“Is it?”
Sasha nodded, then finished making her breakfast. Dad looked tired—his eyes were deep in his face and the lines around them made him seem like he was squinting.
“What happened?” Aunt Ginny must have noticed, too.
“Twin llama birth. One’s fine, the mother will hopefully be okay, but I don’t know about the second one. She’s really small and it’s going to be touch and go for a few days.”
“Can I go see them with you?”
“No.” Dutch’s response was immediate and it hurt. She hated when he was like this.
“Well, excuse me.” She shoved a bite of waffle into her mouth.
