Sasha’s Dad

by Geri Krotow

  “Do you want me to come and get her?” Dutch checked the clock. He could be in Hershey, Pennsylvania, in about two hours.

  “That won’t be necessary. I think, in Sasha’s case, having her call you and keeping her off the rides for the rest of the day will be enough.” Mr. Flint had taught Sasha since sixth grade; it’d been almost two years now. He obviously thought Sasha wasn’t the problem, and Dutch believed him.

  “I appreciate your talking to me, and for taking the time with Sasha. I’ll address this further when she gets home.”

  “That’s fine, Mr. Archer, but like I said, Sasha’s not a bad kid. In fact, she’s one of the good ones. I think she got herself too involved in whatever Naomi’s problem of the day is and lost track of time.”

  “Okay, thanks.” Dutch hung up, shaking his head. His daughter had told him to ask Claire about it. As if Claire knew more about raising a girl than he did.

  Maybe she did.

  He shook his head again. “What an idiot I can be, Rascal,” he told the dog. Rascal looked up at him and whimpered as if he agreed.

  WHEN SASHA GOT OFF the bus that evening, Dutch made a point of tracking down Mr. Flint and thanking him again. He sought out Naomi’s parents and found her mother waiting, as upset as he’d been a few hours ago.

  He herded Sasha into the truck and started home.

  “I’m sorry, Dad. I messed up.” He heard the genuine regret in her tone.

  “I’m sorry, too, Sasha. It’s not easy to say no to our friends, but when they choose the wrong path, we have to. If you’re worried about Naomi, you tell me or a teacher at school. Tell the principal if you have to. But don’t put yourself at risk for anyone, ever.”

  He drove the truck through the quiet streets of Dovetail and let the silence settle a bit. Sasha needed to understand that he wasn’t bending on this.

  “Got it?”

  “Yes, Dad.” Her tired “you don’t get it voice” was back. He’d take this up with her again in the morning. And maybe call Claire to ask if she’d talk to Sasha out at the farm this week.

  Claire.

  Why did he even kid himself that he could raise Sasha on his own?

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CLAIRE COULDN’T BELIEVE her eyes. She’d participated in the Sheep and Wool Festival last year, but only as a volunteer. She didn’t have enough fiber to sell yet, so she didn’t think it was worth bringing any of her animals to show.

  But this year exceeded all her expectations. Two of her llamas were in the barn, while the twin crias were in the adjacent stall. Sasha was looking after the twins while Claire went to get fresh-squeezed lemonade.

  Thousands of festival attendees had the same idea and it took Claire more than thirty minutes to get through the concession stands.

  Claire came back to the llama barn and her numbered stalls with two large lemonades. She scanned their surroundings. No Sasha.

  She’d probably gone to the restroom. That was fine, but she should’ve called and told her if she couldn’t wait for Claire to get back.

  She put the drinks on a bench and pulled out her cell phone. She knew she was being overprotective, but didn’t care. She couldn’t shake a sense of unease. She needed to hear Sasha’s voice to make sure all was well.

  Sasha’s phone rang and rang before it went to voice mail. Claire didn’t leave a message, Sasha would see she’d called and text her back. That was what she usually did.

  Claire watched the people streaming into the barn. They came in to get out of the spring heat and to look at the animals. Little kids never tired of seeing the llamas. Claire enjoyed talking to them, but not at the moment.

  She had to find Sasha.

  She walked into the stall to check on Nip and Tuck and to get a break from the crowds. She flipped open her cell phone and called Sasha again. A rattle in the corner of the stall caught her attention. It was coming from the bench where she and Sasha had left their water and personal items. Out of reach of the llamas and the public.

  It was Sasha’s cell phone, in vibrate mode. Claire grabbed Sasha’s phone and stared at the caller ID in horror. She saw her own number.

  Where was Sasha?

  “HOW DID YOU EVEN get here, Naomi?” Sasha was perturbed as she walked with Naomi toward the woods outside the fairgrounds.

  “I came in with my mom and her knitting friends.” Naomi smirked. “She actually thinks I care about this stuff.”

  Sasha didn’t like Naomi’s tone, but besides being annoyed, she was afraid for her friend. If she could get Naomi to talk, she’d give the information to Claire so Naomi would get the help she needed. Before she did anything stupid to herself.

  “Why did you come with her if you don’t like the Sheep and Wool Festival?”

  “I told you, I figured you’d be here with your 4-H project and I wanted to talk to you.” Naomi’s sullen attitude was reflected in her flat tone.

  “Well, I don’t have much time. I’m here with Claire.” Sasha liked pairing her name with Claire’s. It made her feel safe, especially around Naomi when she was acting so weird.

  Sasha went to finger her phone that she always kept in her front jeans pocket. Claire was a speed-dial away.

  Sasha’s stomach dropped when she found only a crumpled napkin. She’d forgotten her phone. If Claire or Dad tried to call her, they’d be worried. Worse, she’d get into trouble.

  Naomi sighed and stopped midstride.

  “What is it, Naomi?”

  “Okay, I’ll tell you, but don’t freak out, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Remember I told you I’m sad a lot and I can’t snap out of it?”

  “Yes.” Sasha wondered if Naomi was going to tell her she was finally getting help from a doctor or someone.

  “Well, I was hanging out with Melanie and her brother was there. He made us these amazing drinks—and guess what? I felt better afterward.”

  “What kind of drinks, Naomi?”

  She felt sick again. She felt sick a lot when she was around Naomi.

  “I told you not to get freaked out.” Naomi shook her head. “It’s no big deal. They have a little bit of vodka and something else in them, but they’re so delicious and I feel great when I have them. I want you to try one and see for yourself.”

  “What? No way, Naomi! Are you crazy?”

  “Hey, girls.” A tall teenage boy walked up to them. He had a friend with him, also a teenager, but shorter and stockier. Sasha recognized him as her friend Maddie’s older brother, Johnny. Unlike Maddie he was a terrible student and he’d been kicked out of high school. He had a bad reputation.

  Fear took Sasha’s breath away. She backed up.

  “I gotta get back to the barn.”

  “What’s the hurry?” Johnny reached out and, even though she’d moved away, he caught her with one arm. When she tried to slither out of his grasp, he wrapped both arms around her from behind. Sasha’s breath came in quick gasps and she felt tears in her eyes.

  Remember what Daddy taught you.

  She took a deep breath and forced herself to relax. Johnny must have felt it and thought she was cool with everything. He slackened his grip a bit.

  It was enough. Sasha scraped the heel of her cowboy boot down his shin as hard as she could.

  “What the—!” Johnny’s shin must have hurt. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the bigger kid start toward her. She twisted around and kicked Johnny in the crotch with all her might.

  Sasha ran, but was tripped up by Naomi, who’d stuck her foot out. Sasha scrambled back up and glowered at her.

  “You’re not my friend!” She shocked herself with the strength and volume of her scream at Naomi.

  She turned to run and saw that the two boys were still after her. She hadn’t realized how far she’d walked with Naomi. They were on the fringe of the woods. She had a good quarter mile through dusty fields to get back to the festival.

  She pounded over the sun-dried grasses. Thorns and twigs scraped at her legs, bu
t she kept going.

  Pretend it’s gym class and you’re being timed for the mile.

  She heard the boys’ footsteps behind her and ran harder, faster. When she saw the metal gates that cordoned off the festival, she felt a renewed sense of power. She was going to make it!

  She got to the gate and climbed through. A security guard saw her and put his hand on her shoulder.

  “Hold it right there, young lady.”

  Sasha couldn’t catch her breath and bent over with her hands on her knees. She gasped out enough to let the guard know she wasn’t trouble.

  “They…they tried to…to drag me into the woods.” She pointed over her shoulder. The boys and Naomi were mere dots as they ran the other way into the tree line.

  “It’s okay.” The guard waited until Sasha caught her breath.

  She straightened up and the guard saw her festival T-shirt.

  “Where are you working at the festival?”

  Sasha told him and gratefully walked back to the barn with the guard.

  “HEY, HONEY.” Dutch’s deep baritone hummed in Claire’s ear.

  “Dutch, it’s Claire, not Sasha. I’m using her phone. Oh, Dutch,” Claire cried out. “She’s gone and I don’t know where she went. You have to come here now!”

  “I’m in line for the parking lot. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Claire shut the phone and looked at the security guard she’d summoned. “That was her father. He’s on his way. Have they made the announcement yet?”

  “They’re about to, ma’am.” The guard spoke into her walkie-talkie for a moment, then turned back to Claire. “They’re announcing it now. Don’t worry, she’s probably in line for funnel cakes or something. Kids do that every year.”

  “But it’s not like her to leave her cell phone.” Claire shivered with fear. “I’m going to go look for her again.” She’d already run around the festival grounds, her eyes peeled for Sasha in her blue festival T-shirt. Her panic grew as each child she saw turned around and revealed that he or she wasn’t Sasha.

  “Ma’am, chances are your daughter’s perfectly fine. But to be on the safe side, security’s put up a perimeter and she won’t get out, trust me. It’s better for you to stay where you are. We don’t want her coming back without you here, do we?”

  Claire didn’t correct the guard’s assumption that she was Sasha’s mother. Right now she felt the fear of a mother and it was a terrifying sensation.

  Claire wrung her hands in spite of herself. A detached part of her knew that the security team was doing more than she could, but she couldn’t separate her fear and anxiety from logical thought. She’d die if anything happened to Sasha.

  “I’m sorry, I can’t wait here.” She turned from the guard to run out of the barn. She ran right into Dutch.

  CLAIRE’S HEAD BUTTED against his chest and knocked his breath away.

  Dutch grabbed her and held her at arm’s length. “Tell me what happened.”

  Claire told him what she’d come back to after buying the lemonade. Her face was ashen and her eyes had a wild look he’d never seen before.

  “And no one saw anything?”

  “The couple in the other stall said they think she left with another girl.” Claire’s shaking hands pushed him away. “I’ve got to go find her, Dutch.”

  “No, Claire. We’ll find her.”

  He looked at the security guard who’d walked up to them. “You the girl’s father?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’ll be glad to know we’ve found your daughter. They’re bringing her back here now.”

  Claire jumped up and hugged the guard. “Thank you so much!”

  “No problem. Just doing my job.”

  CLAIRE TURNED to Dutch. His gaze was fixed on the barn entrance.

  Sasha walked in with a guard and as soon as she saw Dutch ran over to him.

  “Daddy!” She threw herself into his arms and Claire’s tears spilled at their reunion.

  He’d never forgive her for losing Sasha. Regardless of how happy the ending…

  “Claire, I’m so sorry.” Sasha let go of her dad and came over to hug Claire.

  Claire hugged her and kissed the top of her dear, sweet head. Thank God she was okay. At least—

  She straightened and lifted Sasha’s chin with her hand. “You are okay, Sasha? Did anything happen to you?”

  Sasha shook her head. “No, no—some loser friends of Naomi’s tried to keep me with them and make me drink.”

  “Did you take anything?” Claire heard her pitch rise, but couldn’t control it. “You didn’t drink anything they gave you? What do you mean, they tried to make you drink? Did they lay a hand on you?”

  The guard reappeared, accompanied by another one, an older man. “Ma’am, we have the other juveniles in custody and they’ll be dealt with appropriately. Sasha already gave us her side of the story and, from the sound of it, she was very brave.”

  “Claire.” Dutch’s voice pierced through her haze of anxiety.

  She looked into his blue eyes. Calm, wise blue eyes.

  Safety.

  “Sasha’s okay. We’ll work it out.” Claire blinked and glanced around. The two guards, several other farmers, Sasha and Dutch were all staring at her. As if she was the one who’d fought off an attack, who needed TLC.

  “Ma’am, your daughter is safe. It’s normal that as a mother you feel as though it happened to you.”

  Claire opened her mouth to correct the assumption that she was Sasha’s mother, but no words came out.

  The guard smiled at Dutch. “Dad, you’ve got two ladies to take care of tonight.”

  “Thanks so much.” Dutch turned back toward Claire and Sasha. “Sasha, stay here with Claire. Security needs me to make a statement and sign a release.” He walked out with the guards.

  Sasha sat next to Claire on the small bench and laid her head on Claire’s shoulder.

  “You okay, kiddo?” Claire asked, stroking her hair.

  “I’m fine. A little scared, but much better.”

  Claire hugged her tight as if she could will away the girl’s pain. “Sasha, I’m so sorry I wasn’t here when Naomi came by.”

  “She waited until you left. She knew I wouldn’t go with her if you were here.” Sasha looked back up at Claire.

  “Why was I so stupid? Why did I believe her when she said she needed to talk to me?”

  “Because she used to be your friend, Sasha. But she’s a girl with serious problems. She’s sick and needs help. It could happen to any of us.” Claire stretched out her legs and kept her arm around Sasha.

  They were both silent for a moment, then Claire said, “If I could somehow give you all the lessons I’ve learned in life, so you didn’t have to suffer through learning them, I would. But that’s not the way it is.”

  She continued to stroke Sasha’s hair. “This won’t be the first time you’ll be duped by a friend. You’re a dear girl, Sasha, and you genuinely care about others. Sometimes you’re going to attract people who are less than well. Try to remember what we discussed, about healthy boundaries.”

  “I guess I failed that lesson today.”

  Claire’s heart heaved at the adult self-deprecation in Sasha’s tone. “You didn’t fail, Sasha. You’re a survivor. You used what your dad taught you and got away from those jerks. You kept your head and you know what? You probably saved Naomi from a lot more trouble than she’s already in.”

  Sasha nodded, then glanced up. “Dad’s back!”

  And he was, with bags of kettle corn and fresh drinks. “Ah, comfort food,” Claire said with a smile.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CLAIRE HEARD the knock on the door as she walked from her bathroom into the kitchen, intent on making a cup of strong tea after her long shower. Sasha was safe, the festival was over and she’d fed the animals.

  All of Monday stretched before her.

  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.”