“Everyone’s a bad bet, Haylee. There’s no such thing as a perfect relationship.”
“Captain Romance,” she said. “See, we agree? There’s no point in expecting things to last, because they never do. It’s nobody’s fault.”
“You misunderstand me, Haylee. There are no perfect relationships because there are no perfect people. We’re all bad bets in one way or another. The only way to make it work is to get good at disagreeing. To find ways to trust each other with our brokenness and find ways to grow, together. I guess you haven’t figured that out yet.”
“Oh, and you have? Remind me. Do you have a wife? Or an ex-wife?”
He curled up his lip as her arrow hit the mark. “You’re right. You’ve only scratched the surface of how badly broken I am. But I told you about . . . Garret. I trusted you with that. Yet you couldn’t trust me in return. How am I supposed to feel about that?”
Haylee pulled open the door to her cabin. Cleo came tiptoeing in to greet them, all her guarding bravado seemingly gone without Jewel to back her up.
Aiden followed her, closing the door quietly behind him. He sighed heavily. “I’ll leave right now if you want me to, Haylee. But I’d rather listen to you tell me about Sage. Can you do that?”
Haylee walked through the little house, flicking on the overhead lights, then turning them off in favor of softer lamplight. The brightness hurt her eyes. Then she turned them all off.
“If I’m going to talk about this,” she said, “I’d rather do it in the dark.”
She felt, rather than heard, the rush of air that left Aiden’s chest. He was too invested in her. She’d warned him, but he’d gone ahead and gotten involved. She never planned to let things go this far with him. But she’d deliberately ignored the signs too.
She enjoyed him. They enjoyed each other. And this is where it led. To ugly words and a bad ending.
“I had a baby when I was sixteen,” she said. “It was a very bad time in my life. If it wasn’t for Olivia, I’m not sure I’d have gotten through it. We chose a couple who we thought would give my baby the kind of life I’d never be able to give her. When she was born, I held her for a few minutes and then she was gone. I gave her the best gift I could, the gift of a chance with a real family.”
Tears fell down her cheek and she dashed them away with the back of her hand.
“I put her out of my mind, tried to forget about her and move on with my life. It was supposed to be the best thing for her. So how did it go so wrong? How did she end up here, looking like a lost puppy, and pregnant herself, no less? How could things have gone so badly for her, when I tried to give her the best chance I could?”
She wasn’t sure when Aiden put his arms around her but suddenly she was weeping against his chest.
“I’m so angry, Aiden. I have no idea what to do. She’s my daughter, but I have no idea how to even talk to her. Hell, I’ve got a granddaughter who’s so brand-new and perfect and fragile, she scares the shit out of me. They’re both complete strangers to me. Sage obviously needs something, and I don’t know what it is or how to give it. I did everything I could to make sure she got what she needed from people much better equipped than I was at sixteen. And still, she ended up here on my doorstep, as broken as I was when I had her.”
Aiden stroked the back of her head, and his strong arms may have been the only reason she wasn’t in a puddle on the floor.
“Haylee,” he murmured. “Thank you. You have no idea what this means to me.”
He pulled her onto the couch and that’s where she woke up two hours later, her face crusty with tears, his arms still holding her.
With Cleo curled up in a ball beside them.
Chapter Fifteen
“I’d never ridden a horse in my life but Gideon was an excellent teacher. Easy on the eyes, too! LOL!”
—Aylalala483
Haylee awakened to the sound of footsteps creaking across her porch. The terrier on the bed beside her lifted her head, a low growl rumbling in her throat. She’d fallen asleep on the couch, hadn’t she? And where was Aiden?
Jewel continued snoring on her sheepskin cushioned mat in the corner.
A soft knock sounded.
“Haylee?”
She glanced at the clock. Good news seldom arrived at ten past four in the morning. She threw off the sheets and went to the door, pulling an oversize hooded sweatshirt over the thin tank and shorts she wore to bed.
Sage.
The girl was wide-eyed and pale in the moonlight. Haylee’s heart dropped to her knees.
“What is it? Is it the baby?”
“No, no,” said the girl. She clutched the doorframe and looked everywhere but at Haylee. “There’s something wrong with Karma.”
Haylee breathed out, then swallowed hard. Sage’s sense of responsibility for the stray made Haylee unaccountably proud, as if she’d somehow, accidentally, passed on something good of herself to the child she’d given away.
“What makes you think something’s wrong? What’s she doing?”
She hadn’t seen any injuries last night, but any manner of problems could be going on beneath that mop of matted fur.
“She’s panting,” said Sage. “And restless. She keeps pacing, lying down, getting up.”
“That doesn’t sound good,” said Haylee. “She’s got access to water?”
Sage nodded. “She’s uncomfortable. Something’s wrong. I have to get back to the baby or Daphne will have a fit. Are you going to come or not?”
Sage hated to ask for her help, that was obvious. She didn’t want to be proven wrong but she didn’t want the dog to suffer, either.
Haylee wondered if Sage had any idea how blatantly obvious the parallels were. A young girl who feels abandoned, takes a ferocious interest in a dog who’s also been abandoned....
It took a moment. Then Haylee’s head jerked. It couldn’t be.
She quickly went to the bathroom and splashed water on her face. As she dried her hands, she saw a note on the counter.
Aiden.
Sorry I couldn’t stay, it read, got called out at 3 a. m. See you tomorrow, okay?
Her heart warmed unaccountably at the fact that he hadn’t just disappeared, in fact, he’d tucked her into bed, that he’d intended to stay, despite the drama in her life and the fact that she’d done almost nothing to encourage him.
What did he see in her?
And did she care?
Haylee slipped into her jeans and followed Sage, setting thoughts of Aiden aside. She might be wrong in her suspicions about the dog. She hoped she was.
When she got to the main house, she found the kitchen lights on and Daphne standing next to the kettle, rocking the baby gently on her shoulder.
“She heard you get up,” she said to Sage.
Her expression was mild, without judgment or censure, but Sage took offense anyway.
“I had to get Haylee,” she snapped, reaching for her child. “Something’s wrong with Karma. I was coming right back. I didn’t leave her.”
“No one said you did, Sweet Pea.” Daphne handed over the baby. “Who wants coffee? No one’s going back to bed with puppies on the way.”
Sage’s jaw dropped and with it, for a moment, the brittle adolescent armor. Her face softened, her eyebrows lifted, and pure excitement, even joy, washed over her. Haylee could see the sweet girl her daughter would have been, if she’d been dealt a more generous hand. Guilt assailed her, as sharp and clear as broken glass, as strong as it had the first time, sixteen years ago.
“Puppies?” said Sage. She tightened her grip on the baby and bit back a grin.
“Let’s take a look,” said Haylee.
Something in the tone of her voice or her expression must have sent a message to Sage because the joy and excitement faded. Caution took its place. Happiness, Haylee understood, was dangerous. Hope was worse. Sage had learned to be suspicious of both.
It broke her heart.
“If you want,” offered Daphne, �
�I can rock your little bundle while you and Haylee look at Karma.”
Sage held the baby tightly to her chest, her hand cradling the tiny skull. Then she pressed a kiss against the downy hair and handed her back to Daphne.
“Come to Granny, precious,” she cooed.
Granny?
Haylee walked past them into Sage’s bedroom on stiff legs, wondering if Daphne was trying to make a point or if she actually was that oblivious.
She wished she had the kind of nurturing personality that came so easily to the cook, but she didn’t. She was a mother in the barest biological sense only and she refused to pretend feelings she didn’t have. Sage and the baby deserved better than that.
All that fussing and doting looked easy on Daphne because she was an actual mother and grandmother. There was nothing to be jealous about. Haylee had no reason to feel inadequate.
Haylee knew dogs, not kids. So that’s what she’d focus on.
“Here, Karma, honey,” she said softly, bending to examine the animal.
Sage had pulled the bedding out of the crate and made the dog a spacious nest under the window, instead. The dog looked up at Haylee’s voice. Then she let her head fall back and lifted one leg to expose her belly, a mute expression of trust and need.
Pink nipples stood out among the black and white fur and Haylee wanted to kick herself for not examining the dog more closely last night. Yes, the dog was overweight, yes, she was covered in hair, yes, she probably always waddled when she walked.
But Karma was also most definitely, obviously pregnant.
Haylee stroked her head gently, watching for any signs of aggression. But Karma only paused in her panting long enough to lick Haylee’s hand.
“I should have known,” said Sage.
“No, I should have known,” said Haylee. “I’m the so-called dog expert around here.”
“I’m the person who just had a baby, though. And she’s my dog.”
Haylee winced inwardly at Sage’s certainty. Karma may have been found wandering and unkempt, but that did not mean there weren’t owners out there somewhere, desperately searching for her, hoping and praying that she was okay, that someone had found her and was looking after her until they could be reunited again.
“First things first,” said Haylee. “I’m going to get my clippers. I need to clear a path to the milk bar.”
“What should I do?”
Haylee thought quickly. “Newspapers,” she said. “By the back door. And cardboard. Old towels. Ask Daphne. She’ll show you.”
Sage scampered out of the room, looking more like a child on Christmas morning than a wary teen mother.
Karma allowed Haylee to clip her abdomen and tail area, only raising her head once or twice when she felt her dignity was being challenged. With the matted clumps of hair gone, the pregnancy was grotesquely obvious. Haylee dreaded the questions she’d have to answer at the vet’s office about how this had snuck up on her.
Karma heaved to her feet, grunting.
“She probably needs to pee,” said Haylee. “I’ll fix her bed while you take her out, okay?”
Sage nodded.
The girl had done a good job of collecting supplies, and as Haylee put layers of absorbent, disposable materials on top of the blankets, she allowed herself to glance around the rest of the room. The bassinet sitting next to the twin bed was neatly made up and the change table Huck had found her had all the baby’s supplies sitting in tidy piles. Diapers, ointment, wipes, those little blankets for spit-up.
What were they called?
An odd sensation washed over Haylee. Her daughter was already a more experienced mother than she was.
She had nothing to offer, nothing Sage needed. Nothing Sage wanted.
“She peed,” said Sage, leading the dog back inside.
“Good,” said Haylee. “It’s nice in here,” she added.
“The baby stuff, I mean. You’re a neat person. Tidy. Organized.”
Silence fell over the room.
Sage narrowed her eyes. “Not much to keep organized.”
Karma padded to the bed and lowered herself onto it with a groan, her dark eyes wide, her tongue lolling. As they watched, a ripple went over the dog’s freshly shaved belly.
“Oh!” said Sage. “Did you see that?”
Haylee nodded. The Christmas-morning face was back. She wondered if Sage was thinking about her own labor but didn’t want to ask.
Aiden had taken good care of Sage throughout her delivery, and Haylee was grateful that Sage hadn’t required surgical intervention, the way she herself had.
Over the years, Haylee had worked hard to set aside the memories of Sage’s birth. Now it was as if current events were staging a coup on that idea.
“Hey,” came Olivia’s soft voice at the doorway. “I hear the nursery’s getting fuller.”
Gayle peered over Olivia’s shoulder. Both their faces were rough with sleep but warm with excitement. Behind them, Jamie bounced on her toes, angling for a glimpse. For a ranch full of women, there were shockingly few offspring between them, and none that were part of daily life.
At least, until now.
But this was temporary, Haylee cautioned herself. Who knew how long Sage would be here, or if she’d even be allowed to keep Sal. Chances were, as soon as she was back on her feet, she’d decide she wanted nothing more to do with her birth mother or the random chosen family Haylee had created for herself.
“Looks that way,” said Haylee. “Karma’s doing great, but I’m pretty sure she’d prefer quiet and privacy. I’ll send Sage to let you know when there’s news. Until then, maybe you can take turns helping Daphne with the baby. I mean—” She threw a quick look at Sage. “If Sage says it’s okay.”
“Yeah,” said Sage, lifting her chin. “It’s my call, not yours. But I guess that’s okay.”
* * *
When Aiden finished his 3 a.m. emergency call, he went back to his cabin to catch a few hours of sleep. He hated that he’d been called away from Haylee, had barely been able to leave her and hoped that the note he’d left her would prevent awkwardness the next time they spoke. He couldn’t wait to see her again.
So when he arrived at the ranch the next morning and Haylee wasn’t in the training yard for their scheduled meeting, he couldn’t help but worry that the unexpected intimacy of the previous night had scared her away.
He walked up to the run where Buddy the Border collie lay with his head on his paws and his gaze on the gate, as if waiting for someone who had yet to appear. He perked his ears at Aiden’s approach.
“Hey, Buddy,” Aiden said. “Where’s Haylee this morning?”
The dog took one look, sighed and sank back down, tucking one front paw underneath him.
No matter what Aiden did, he couldn’t seem to make the dog like him. Buddy knew all the basic obedience commands, retrieved the ball politely, didn’t pull on the leash, but there was no shine in his eyes.
Even the little terrier’s predatory gleam was preferable to the Border collie’s indifference.
“You looking for Haylee?” asked Huck, coming in from the far end with a saddle on his hip.
“Yeah,” said Aiden. He had the impression Huck didn’t think much of him, as if he was aware of the desire that Haylee had awakened in him, and did not approve. “You know where she is?”
“Yup,” said Huck. He tipped his chin toward the main lodge. “Sage’s room. The stray turned out to be a package deal, express delivery.”
He stared at Huck. “What?” So many here—people and animals—could be labeled stray. But anyone who’d been at the ranch for more than two seconds knew that to use the term in a derogatory manner—to human or animal—was foolhardy at best.
“Whelping,” explained Huck, satisfaction lifting the corner of his mouth.
“Puppies?”
“Yes. They’re like human babies, but smaller, with four legs and a tail.”
Aiden’s neck grew warm.
“It�
�s happening in the kid’s bedroom. Go on in. I’m sure they’d love a doctor’s opinion.”
There was a subtle emphasis on the word doctor but Aiden knew better than to take the bait. If he wanted anything to come of whatever it was he and Haylee were developing, he’d need all the allies he could find. Even Huck.
Maybe especially Huck.
“Thanks.”
He jogged across the yard to the main house. The Fioris, the wealthy, eccentric family Haylee had mentioned, were gathered in front, the twelve-going-on-twenty-year-old daughter stretched out on top of a picnic table, tanning her coltish legs.
“If you’re looking for breakfast,” said the man, “it’s late.”
He sounded peeved. He had the florid complexion and barrel-chested body of someone who might benefit from missing the occasional breakfast.
“This place isn’t what I expected,” he added.
“Daemon,” said his wife, patting his arm. “This will be a wonderful memory for the children.”
She turned to Aiden, stretching out a tanned, manicured hand. “I’m Angel. My husband, Daemon, and our children, Xerxes and Athena.”
Haylee had warned him but still, he had to bite back a laugh. He shook her hand.
“Aiden McCall,” he said. “I’m looking for Haylee. I hear she’s delivering puppies?”
“They sent us out,” said the boy. “I’m so bored. I want my phone.”
Xerxes. Who did that to a child?
“Hey, X-Box,” called Huck. “You want stable duty or KP?”
“KP?”
“Kitchen patrol,” said Aiden, mentally giving Huck kudos.
The girl, Athena, leaped off the picnic table, straightening her jeans and tucking her hair behind her ears. “Dibs on stables. Jerky can do the kitchen stuff.”
“Don’t call your brother that, darling,” said Angel. “Xerxes, honey, you and I can cut up fruit. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”
“I’m going for a walk,” said Daemon. “Call me when someone decides to get to work around here.”
Daphne stepped out onto the porch just in time to hear Daemon’s comment, the baby bundled into the crook of one arm. She put her other hand on a generous hip and Aiden took a step back. She took a deep breath and he could see her choosing her words.
Sunset Bay Sanctuary Page 20
