Sasha’s Dad (12 page)

Claire!

Sasha heard her voice. She’d spent the night, after all.

Sasha tiptoed through the dining room and listened at the entrance to the kitchen. She liked hearing Dad’s and Claire’s voices together.

She liked the idea of her dad and Claire being together, too, but it was going to be hard to convince them.

Dad didn’t see Claire the way Sasha did. But Sasha had noticed how he looked at Claire when he didn’t think anyone was watching. He said he didn’t like her “that way” but he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

Claire wasn’t as easy to figure out. She never said anything negative about Dad in front of Sasha, no matter how mad he made her. She didn’t really talk about him at all. She kept their conversations on Sasha’s school, the llamas or Mom’s growing-up years.

Dad’s laughter caught Sasha’s attention. Her stomach rumbled and she went into the kitchen before she could get caught eavesdropping again.

“Good morning, sunshine!” Dad was dishing up a small stack of pancakes from the griddle. A mound of bacon lay on a plate nearby.

“Mmm, yeah. But mostly tired.” She yawned.

Claire smiled at her. “You were up until after two.”

“What time is it now?” Claire looked at her watch.

“Eight-thirty—oh my gosh! I’ve got to get home.” Claire looked so pretty with her hair down, even though her clothes were messed up. She must’ve slept in them.

But Sasha didn’t want her to leave. “Don’t go yet, Claire. Did you eat breakfast already?”

“Yes, your dad fed me pancakes and bacon, and I’ve had two cups of coffee.” Claire patted her stomach. “I’m stuffed.”

“Who made the coffee?” Sasha couldn’t help teasing her dad.

Dad smiled. “Claire did.”

Sasha laughed. “Figures. Aunt Ginny said she could teach Dad to cook and even bake cupcakes, but coffee’s not his thing.”

“Hey, give your old man a break. I can make a decent pot of coffee.”

“If you use the automatic one with the timer, yeah.” Sasha smirked at Dad.

“What’s it to you? You don’t drink coffee, shrimp.” Dad came over and hugged her tight. Sasha wouldn’t let him do this in front of anyone but Claire or Aunt Ginny. He seemed to be in an especially good mood this morning.

Sasha turned to Claire. “Dad always buys his coffee in the morning now. Either at the diner or the doughnut place.”

“I see.” Claire winked at Sasha, and Sasha liked the way Claire treated her—as if they were the only two women who understood the weird side of Dad.

Dad didn’t look as tired as he usually did after an all-nighter. “How’d your case go, Dad?”

He sighed as he poured more batter on the griddle. “It was long, but I managed to sew up two cows and save a calf. He just had a scrape compared to his mother.”

“Oooh!” Sasha hated the thought of any animal in pain, especially a baby. “Will they be okay?”

“I think so.”

“Your dad’s a master vet, Sasha. If it weren’t for him, my llamas wouldn’t have made it.” Claire stood from her stool like she was preparing to leave, but Sasha didn’t want to let her go, not yet.

“You’d already tended to the first twin just fine.” Dad addressed Claire as he flipped the pancakes. Sasha recognized the tone. It was the “good girl, job well-done” tone he used when he was really pleased with her. Sasha wondered if Claire knew what a compliment it was to have Dad talk to her like that.

“Hey, Dad, is it okay if I show Claire my room?”

Dad’s eyebrows rose, but he stayed calm enough. “You didn’t show her last night?”

Sasha shrugged. “No, we were too busy down here.”

“That’s true,” Claire said. “But I’ll see your room another time, Sasha. I really need to get going.”

“It won’t be more than a minute.” Sasha looked at Dutch. “Please, Dad.”

“No problem for me.”

Claire still wasn’t convinced. “Dutch, if you’re sure you’re okay with…?”

“Of course. Just don’t look at the mess.”

“Can’t be messier than mine or Natalie’s ever were.” She laughed, moved toward the stairs and followed Sasha.

Sasha led Claire into her room and twirled around. “It’s not too fancy, but I wanted you to see what I did with the pictures I took at the farm.” Sasha pointed to the bulletin board over her bed and Claire walked over.

“Oh, Sasha, these are beautiful!” She knelt on the rainbow-patterned comforter and leaned toward the wall. “You’ve captured the crias so well. Nip and Tuck have grown so much since then! And it was only a month ago.” Claire stared at the photos. Then she came to the one Sasha never took down.

Sasha and Mom.

Claire’s face grew still and Sasha wished she’d protected her. The picture of Mom with no hair and so pale would be a shock to someone who didn’t remember her that way. Sasha hadn’t meant to upset Claire or hurt her feelings.

“I’m sorry, Claire. Please don’t feel sad. Mom was sick then, but she’s in a good place now.”

“I know she is, sweetheart. And she loves you very much.”

Claire didn’t look at Sasha, but kept staring at the photo of her and Mom. Maybe Claire hadn’t seen Mom bald. “Had she lost her hair the time you saw her when she was sick?” Sasha asked.

Claire shook her head and got off the bed. “No—I mean, yes, she’d lost it, but it grew back after that. For a while.” Claire’s face was serious and Sasha wondered if maybe she was tired from last night, too.

“Thanks for showing me your room, Sasha. It’s such a lovely place for you to come home to.”

“Yeah. I like it.”

“And thanks for letting me be at your party.” Claire held open her arms and Sasha went to her. They hugged, and Sasha loved that Claire rubbed her back. It felt so nice.

“But you didn’t have to stay, you know.”

Claire tugged on Sasha’s ponytail and pulled away. “It was my privilege, kiddo. I’m going now, but I’ll see you soon, out at the farm, okay?”

“Yup!”

“Don’t forget we’ll be working on the sweater,” Claire said in a stage whisper.

“Thanks,” Sasha whispered back.

Sasha walked behind Claire as they left the room and went downstairs. Three of the girls sat at the breakfast counter, stuffing their faces with Dad’s pancakes.

“Hey, save some for me, you guys!”

She noticed that Dad saw Claire getting ready to leave and he came to stand beside her. He was going to walk her to the front door. Sasha smiled. Maybe Dad and Claire would figure out for themselves that they made a good pair.

Claire had been gone the minute she’d found out what happened between him and Natalie. No understanding, no compassion. He couldn’t blame her, not when they were kids. But after a few years of college, he thought she’d get over it.

She hadn’t. Or at least it seemed that way.

“Claire, are you sure you have to go?” Sasha implored.

“I’m afraid so. You girls have more energy than I do! But I’ll see you next week, Sasha.” Claire embraced her in a hug, her lips on Sasha’s bent head. Like Natalie would have done.

His stomach tensed at the brief wave of pain and awareness. He knew Natalie wasn’t coming back. And he knew he was sane—Claire wasn’t channeling Natalie’s spirit.

But the gesture of female affection from Claire and the way Sasha soaked it up brought tears to his eyes. His sister, Ginny, loved Sasha and Sasha loved her, but it wasn’t the same. Ginny was several years younger than him and Claire; she didn’t have a parental love for Sasha.

Claire grabbed her sweater from the bench and shrugged it on. She looked back over her shoulder and caught him watching every move. She met his gaze with equanimity, then turned and left.

She closed the door quietly and Dutch sighed. The house seemed colder without her.

He shook his head at the horse he was examining. Sasha’s girlfriends weren’t the issue. It was Claire.

“How you doing today, old gal?” He stroked the side of the aging mare. He was looking after her for the Browns while they wintered in Florida. They’d be home in a week or so. Usually Dutch left pet sitting to the smaller agencies or one of his assistants. But Goldy had needed antibiotics and he wanted to nurse her back from the infection in her right foreleg.

He led Goldy out to her field to graze, and she placed her nuzzle against him. He laughed, and it felt good to let the joyful sound echo through his chest.

How had he gone from never wanting to see Claire again to allowing his daughter to spend time with her?

To kissing her?

He could forgive himself for the kiss in front of the truck. He’d reacted to her constant presence, the way she got under his skin no matter how carefully he guarded himself. As well, the embrace outside the barn had been pure reaction.

The kiss this morning, though, he had no excuse for. It had simply felt right to pull her onto his lap. She’d welcomed his touch as he’d kissed her. Those kisses had reminded him what making love to a woman who knows you feels like.

Claire knew him—but she didn’t know everything.

He’d thought he could never forgive Claire for what she’d done—or not done—with Natalie those last years. He’d made it clear where she stood with him, and Dutch refused to lead a woman on.

Unfortunately, he was having trouble following his own rules.

The Claire he was getting to know bore little resemblance to the Claire of ten and fifteen years ago. He wondered what had brought about the change. It wasn’t just about Natalie or Claire’s regret over breaking a vow of friendship.

He sighed and watched Goldy clomp around the small patch of fenced-off field. Perhaps Claire had simply grown up. She’d told him that she had finally figured out what made her happy. But it was too late for Claire and Natalie.

And it had to be too late for Claire and him. Didn’t it?

“No potatoes?” Sasha looked at the plate and her voice rose.

“You just reminded me.” Dutch made a quarter turn and opened the microwave door. “Here you go!”

“Thanks, Dad.”

They took their usual spots at the counter on their stools. Dutch knew he should use the dining room more often, but this suited them fine.

He mused at how effectively they’d become a team. He would’ve forgotten the potatoes he’d reheated until he went to use the microwave to make popcorn later, or worse, heat up their oatmeal in the morning.

But Sasha knew that meat loaf wasn’t a meal without potatoes.

“So how did you like your party?”

“It was awesome, Dad. The absolute best.” Sasha swallowed a huge forkful of potatoes.

“And you felt completely safe with Claire here?” He had to ask it, to assuage any parental guilt.

“Of course!” Her eyebrows tilted up and Dutch saw the wariness in her eyes. Nothing got by Sasha these days. She munched on a roll she’d smeared with butter. “I mean, Dad, Claire would
wallop
anyone who tried to hurt us.”

Dutch felt as though someone had punched him in the gut. Sasha completely trusted Claire. She wasn’t always so open with adults outside the family, but she’d included Claire as
part
of their family.

For Sasha to say that Claire would stick up for her as fiercely as he would—that got his attention.

“Why did you ask me that, Dad?”

“I’m a worrier, honey. I always need to be sure that you’re safe and comfortable with whoever you’re with.”

“But you know Claire. You like her, too, don’t you, Dad?”

Uh-oh. He heard it. A slightly different tone, but he’d heard it—the implication that he and Claire might have some kind of future.

“Of course I like and trust Claire, Sasha, or I wouldn’t let you spend time with her. But you do understand we’ll never be more than friends?”

“Sure, Dad.” She kept eating and her eyes were downcast, focused on her plate.

Dutch rested his fork on his own plate and leaned closer to Sasha. “I want you to know I’ll never try to replace your mom, Sasha.” His voice was huskier than he would’ve liked, his emotions too close to the surface.

Sasha turned to face him and he saw her roll her eyes. So twelve!

“Dad, I
know
that. But it’s been…awhile.” She looked uncomfortable again.

“It’s been awhile since what, Sash?”

Sasha’s gaze was clear, honest. “Since Mom left.” Her eyes filled with tears, but she carried on. “I know you loved Mom, and she wouldn’t have left if she didn’t have to. But it’s not normal for you to live by yourself for the rest of your life.”

Speechless, Dutch stared down at his plate. What Sasha was really saying was that she needed more than the two of them. He knew it was true, but that didn’t ease the ache in his chest.

Slim arms reached around his shoulders.

“I love you, Dad, and Mom did, too. But we both want you to be happy.”

Dutch turned and hugged Sasha hard.

“Baby girl, you’re all I need to be happy. To be sure you’re healthy and safe, that’s all I need.”

“I know, Daddy.” Her voice was soothing.

Yes, his little girl knew, all right. She knew too much.