Sasha's Dad. Geri Krotow

      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