Sasha’s Dad by Geri Krotow

understood the depth of her own grief at Natalie’s loss.
    Fingers rapped on the glass panes of the side door and Claire opened it.
    Dutch’s eyes flashed in obvious anger. “Time to go, Sasha.” He remained on the top step, ignoring Claire.
    “Claire’s making me another hot chocolate.” Sasha had apparently developed a convenient thirst.
    Dutch’s lips thinned and his face grew impassive.
    “Why don’t you come in for a minute, Dutch? It’s cold, and you’re letting all the heat out.”
    He didn’t reply as he stepped inside the kitchen and shut the door behind him. His stance conveyed his wariness of Claire.
    “Don’t act like a cornered mouse, Dutch.” She spoke in a low voice. “You’re safe here.”
    Dutch grunted. Claire wanted to smack him, but instead poured hot water into a mug and mixed in more cocoa powder.
    “How are my llamas?” she asked.
    Dutch blew out a breath and shoved his clenched hands in the front pockets of his jeans. Claire hated herself for permitting her gaze to follow his hands and linger over the area between his pockets. He’d filled out since their late teens and become more rugged.
    Sexier.
    Claire looked away, but not soon enough. Dutch’s eyes narrowed, and she knew that if Sasha hadn’t been in the room he’d have a few choice words about keeping her distance.
    She shoved the mug at him. “Here. This’ll warm you up.”
    He pulled his hands out of his pockets and took the mug before she spilled its contents all over his chest. One eyebrow rose, indicating that even he saw a hint of humor in the situation.
    “Your llamas? They’re doing well. The weather should help when it decides to warm up, but they’re fine.”
    “Thank goodness,” she murmured. “It’s been so cold. I don’t remember a March or April this cold when we were kids.”
    The childhood memory produced a moment’s awkward silence.
    “Would you like something to eat?” She’d found her manners again.
    “No, thanks. We need to leave as soon as we finish this.” He downed the rest of his cocoa. “Sasha?”
    Sasha’s eyelids were lowered as she held her fresh cup of hot cocoa. Claire knew the kid hadn’t missed a single note of the conversation. What did she make of Claire and Dutch? The blatantly rude way they addressed each other?
    Sasha threw back her head and drained the mug.
    She stood. “Thanks, Claire. I had a nice time.”
    “Me, too.”
    Sasha stood there expectantly, watching Claire. Claire looked back at her, dumbfounded. What was it?
    “Okay, well, bye.” Sasha walked over and stood in front of Claire.
    Oh…
    “See you around.” Claire gave Sasha the hug she’d been waiting for, all the while conscious of Dutch’s perturbed glare.
    Sasha passed her dad and ran down the steps.
    “Cozy.” Dutch issued the one-word observation like a missile.
    “You’ve raised a daughter who’s used to lots of love and support. That’s commendable.”
    Dutch sent Claire another hard gaze—and then she saw his stony expression dissolve.
    “She has had that. It’s important to me that she not get hurt. She craves female adult attention and I hope you realize what a trusting young girl she is.”
    Claire appreciated his honesty, and was stunned that he’d opened up even this much. But she didn’t need another reminder of the gap Natalie’s death had left in all their lives.
    “Of course.” She cleared her throat. “Thanks for checking on the animals.”
    “It’s my job. I’ll be back in a few days. Call me if you need me sooner.” Dutch turned on the porch, his foot raised to go down the steps, then turned back.
    “You’ve done an admirable job with the llamas.”
    She watched him descend the steps before she closed the door and leaned against it. Not until she heard the pickup’s engine, did she respond.
    “Thank you.”



CHAPTER EIGHT
    “C ALL ME WHEN you get in.” Dutch knew Ginny didn’t like being treated like his kid sister. But she was his kid