Sasha’s Dad (21 page)

She wanted nothing more than to relax.

Her flash of fear at the prospect of a stranger at her door in the middle of the morning was replaced by relief when she saw Dutch’s profile through the window’s lace sheers.

She made sure her terry robe was belted tight and opened the door.

“Dutch—is everything okay?”

He seemed on edge. “Yes. Can I come in?”

“Of course.” She gestured him inside.

His presence immediately filled the room. She tried to keep her eyes off his arms, his legs. Dutch had always loved to run and obviously still did. The workout T-shirt and running shorts showed off his toned body. Leaner and stronger than he’d been as a teen or young man, he exuded a sexiness that made Claire’s knees feel like mud.

The warm spring air drifted into the kitchen. Claire caught the scent of the apple blossoms from her small orchard.

Dutch stared at her. She squirmed under his scrutiny. Was he angry, sad, upset with Sasha again? Had he decided it was Claire’s fault that she’d been left alone long enough to be tempted away by Naomi?

“What?”

“Do you have any idea what you did at the festival?”

“Put Sasha at risk?”

He shook his head with impatience. “No,
no,
Claire. It wasn’t your fault. But how you reacted to it—” he paused, studying her “—it was as though your own child had disappeared.”

Claire’s throat constricted and she was unable to find any words.

Dutch moved in close, too close. His eyelashes framed his eyes with their blue irises and emphasized how dilated his pupils were.

With need. Desire.

“It was as though you’re Sasha’s mom,” he repeated.

She looked up at him, eyes wide. He stared at her with a purpose that made her toes wriggle against the hardwood floor.

“You’re beautiful.”

“But I should’ve— Sasha could have…” She couldn’t verbalize her deepest fear.

“You were thinking on your feet. Called security. And Sasha knew to get out of there when she smelled trouble.”

“Only because you taught her self-defense.”

“No.” He leaned toward her. She thought he’d kiss her. Prayed he would.

“Claire,
we
taught her how to handle the whole situation. We prepared her together. Supported her 4-H project. Let her be herself, even when she tried to matchmake us. Ever since you came into her life, we’ve taken care of her, raised her—as a team.”

He reached for her and she went into his arms.

His hands tugged her hair free of the band she held it back with. His stomach was pressed against her, and she felt the hair of his legs against her smooth shins.

His eyes were dark and heavy-lidded and he looked at her one last time, gave her a chance to back out.

“I’m tired of trying to think my way out of this, Claire. I want you.”

“I want you, too, I—” Before she’d finished, his mouth was on hers, moving with passion and familiarity as if they were a couple who’d been apart for years, finally reunited.

But this wasn’t a reunion or a homecoming. It was a joining—all heat, need, sweat and intensity.

Time was nonexistent, yet Claire knew it couldn’t have been more than forty seconds before Dutch had her sash untied and her robe in a pool around her feet. He grabbed her and pulled her against his arousal. Claire moaned.

“Dutch, I—”

“Shh. We’ve talked enough for three lifetimes, Claire. Let me make love to you.”

She pulled back a fraction of an inch. “There won’t be any regrets this time?” She whispered her fear aloud.

“Only if you don’t kiss me.”

She lost her train of thought as he trailed kisses on the nape of her neck, then bit the curve of her shoulder.

“God, Claire, you’re so beautiful.” He stared openly at her breasts, her stomach, her legs. His gaze met hers. “I’ve been such a fool. Can you forgive me?”

“Forgive you?”

“I almost blew this for both of us. For all of us.”

“Then
we
need to make up for it.”

They sat at the dining-room table. Sasha’s math book was open, but Dutch hadn’t seen her writing anything for the past fifteen minutes. He couldn’t focus on his case studies, either.

“I miss Claire when she’s not here. Or when we’re not at her house.”

Sasha’s face looked so somber. She’d grown up over the past year, but not as much as she had in the past few weeks. The incident at the Sheep and Wool Festival had shaken her, and after the shock had worn off, she’d needed a lot of comfort.

He gave her all the comfort he could, but in his heart he knew where she’d healed the most.

In Claire’s arms. Through her hugs, and kisses and their long talks as they sat together on the couch.

“I know, pumpkin. She makes a difference to everyone she meets.”

“What about you, Dad?”

Her eyes were round and innocent, but he recognized the determination in their depths. That same determination was what had kept Natalie alive far beyond the medical prognosis. It was what had allowed Claire to stand her ground with him for Sasha’s sake.

“I miss her, too.”

“Do you want her around all the time?” she asked.

“Sasha, she
is
around all the time.”

“You know what I mean, Dad.” Sasha tapped her eraser on the open book.

“I’ve been thinking, Dad. I’m tired of calling her Claire. I don’t want to call her Aunt Claire, either.”

“So? What
do
you want to call her?” He held his breath. Both their lives hinged on her reply.

“I want to call her Mom.”

She put her hands down on the table, a young girl verging on womanhood. “Dad, I’m not trying to replace Mom. In my heart I feel Mom loves Claire and brought her to me. I want to call her
Mom
because that’s what she is to me now.”

Dutch had to wait a moment to speak. Even so, tears burned his eyes and his vision blurred.

“You’re a lucky girl to have had two wonderful women in your life to call Mom.”

“Aw, Dad, I’m sorry. I don’t want to make you sad.”

“I’m not sad, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you I could burst. And I’ll let you in on something I suspect you’re already aware of.”

“What?”

“There’s one other name I’d like Claire to have. Ours. Archer.”

With a whoop, Sasha scrambled over to Dutch for a hug. All they needed to complete their circle was Claire.

Although they’d grown even closer ever since the festival, she’d been careful not to question the exact status of their relationship. She didn’t want Dutch to feel any pressure from her for something more permanent. She promised herself that she’d be grateful for their relationship as it was.

She smiled as she realized she couldn’t wait for him and Sasha to get here.

The twins had already arrived and were making her crazy.

“Don’t you want to wear a dressier outfit? This is a celebration!” Jewel turned up her nose at Claire’s white capri pants and simple mint-green blouse.

“Yes, it’s a celebration—in a cottage yarn shop, for heaven’s sake. And it’s a crab feast, not a candlelight dinner.” Claire silently cursed her shaking hand as she messed up her eyeliner for the second time.

“Here, let me get that for you. Sit on the bed.” Jenna stepped in and finished Claire’s makeup.

“I don’t look like a clown, do I?”

“No. You look absolutely beautiful, like a woman who’s about to start a new life for herself.” Jenna admired her own work.

“I did that almost three years ago.”

“But you’ve really changed these last six months. And now you’re opening up the yarn shop. You’ve been talking about it since you came back to Dovetail.”

Jewel stepped closer and studied Claire critically. “Good job, sis!” she said approvingly, then high-fived Jenna.

“Are you going to tell us the name of the shop yet?” Jenna asked.

“You guys didn’t look under the cover, did you?” Claire had gone to great pains to cloak the shop’s sign with a huge length of burlap. She’d pull it down tonight when all her guests were there.

“No, but how have you managed to keep it quiet for so long?”

“What about business cards, flyers, advertising?”

As the twins fired questions at her, she glanced at her alarm clock. Two hours and thirty-three minutes until the party.

“It wasn’t that difficult,” she replied. “I’ve had everything made up, but haven’t put any of it out yet. You saw the invitations—it said,
the cottage shop at Llama Fiber Haven.
”

“We don’t even get a hint?”

“We’ve helped you with so much of this!”

Claire held up her hands as if warding off vampires.

“No, I’m not telling. You’ll have to wait like everyone else.”

Crabs steamed in the caterer’s huge pots, and long picnic tables were covered with brown butcher paper. Claire’s invitations had said it was going to be a big crab feast, Maryland-style.

Claire made sure the coolers were full of water, sodas and beer. Wine chilled in tubs of ice on the serving tables.

All the physical details were complete. Claire looked up at the cottage, where she saw her parents and sisters standing together outside the shop, laughing. Claire loved her family. With a pang she acknowledged that she wanted one of her own someday.

Enjoy tonight for what it is. You have so much to be grateful for.

She knew this, but still couldn’t keep visions of Dutch and Sasha out of her mind. Dutch’s lovemaking was ardent and it was so easy to believe he had the same thoughts as she did about their future.

But he never talked about it. They never spoke of the past anymore, either. That was good. But was their future destined to remain unaddressed, as well?

He watched her as he stood behind Sasha. They’d come to the cottage with the last group of arrivals.

Claire’s hands were sweating and her mouth was paper-dry. She reached up to pull on the makeshift hemp cord she’d attached to the store’s sign. The sign hung over the door and she had to walk to the side to get the burlap to slip off easily.

As the rustic fabric dropped to the ground, Claire smiled at her shop’s sign.

Natalie’s.

Some of the guests murmured, some let out soft gasps. Claire didn’t care about anyone’s reaction except Sasha’s and Dutch’s.

Sasha jumped up and down and clapped in appreciation. Tears started in Claire’s eyes. Her gaze landed on Dutch and, although he didn’t smile, his eyes sparkled and he was clapping, too. Was he holding back tears?

Claire stepped off the porch and walked over to Dutch and Sasha. “Is it okay with you?” She looked at Sasha, who hugged her in response.

“I love you, Claire.” Sasha’s voice was muffled by Claire’s shoulder. “Of course it’s okay.”

“I love you, too, kiddo.”

Claire looked up at Dutch.

“And you?” She needed to know he approved of the name.

“I love you, too, Claire.” Shock jolted through her and her expression must have shown her surprise as Dutch laughed aloud.

“Come here.” He embraced her in a hug that included all three of them.