“Lyndsey, this is Annie Hennessy,” he said. “She’s an old friend of mine from when I lived here.”
Annie sent him a cool look, and he could almost hear her saying, Old friend?
When she focused her attention on his daughter, however, her expression melted. Annie did love children.
“Nice to meet you, Lyndsey.”
Sam vowed in that moment he wouldn’t leave Nevada until Annie looked at him with that same warmth.
Lyndsey responded with a shy “Hello.”
“What have you got there?” Sam crossed the few steps separating them. When he saw what his daughter had cradled in her T-shirt, his heart sank. Lyndsey was going to be disappointed again, and he couldn’t prevent it. “Oh, sweetie, I think they’re dead.”
“No, they’re alive. See, they’re moving.” Gathering the hem of her shirt in a small fist, she tentatively touched one of the baby raccoons with her other hand. It moved slightly and gave a pitiful mew, rousing its littermate, which also mewed. “There were two other ones in the log, but they weren’t...” She continued when she was more composed. “I left them there.”
“I think you should put these two back in the log.”
“But they’ll die, too!”
“The mother can take care of them.”
“The mother’s gone.” Lindsey’s cheeks flushed the same pink shade as her T-shirt. “Something must have happened to her. Why else would she leave her babies?”
Sam wanted to drop to his knees and pull her into his arms. She was projecting her own unresolved emotions onto the situation. Wasn’t that how the grief counselor had described her behavior during one of their sessions?
It was hardly the first time and wouldn’t be the last. They both had a lot of healing left to do.
“Daddy.” Her voice warbled. “We can’t let them die.”
“What would we do with two baby raccoons?”
“We can raise them. Until they’re big enough to live by themselves. We read a story in school about this family that rescued baby animals after Hurricane Katrina.”
“They’re so tiny. I doubt they can even walk yet. We don’t know the first thing about raising—”
“Kitten formula.”
Sam glanced over at Annie. While he’d been talking to his daughter, she’d edged closer.
“Dr. Murry in town can help you. He’ll set you up with bottles and formula. You’ll need a box and a blanket and a lamp to keep them warm. He’ll tell you more about that, too.” She gently stroked the head of one baby raccoon with her index finger. “They’re severely dehydrated. If you don’t get fluids in them soon, they won’t last.”
“Have you raised baby raccoons before?” Lyndsey asked.
“A few. Along with kittens, puppies, squirrels, rabbits, snakes, a crow, you name it. There was even a fox once.”
Sam knew the fox hadn’t survived from the stories Annie told him.
“Wow.” Lyndsey gaped at Annie with awe.
“My guess is these little fellows are about eight or nine weeks old. And they would be walking if they weren’t so weak. The mother might have had trouble finding food since the fire and wandered too far. If you’re going to save them, you’d better get them to Doc Murry’s right away. Anyone in town can direct you to his office.”
“Lyndsey.” Sam hated letting his daughter down, but he had to be realistic. “We’re leaving in a month. Those raccoons won’t be old enough to live on their own by then.”
“Will you take care of them after that?” Lyndsey ignored Sam in favor of Annie.
“That’s a lot to ask of Ms. Hennessy—”
“I’ll figure something out,” Annie assured Lindsey with a tender smile.
“You don’t have to,” Sam said.
“There’s the wildlife refuge outside of Lake Tahoe. We’re on a first-name basis. But you’re going to have to save them first.” She brushed Lyndsey’s tousled hair from her face. “Better hurry. Keep them as quiet as possible during the ride.”
“Come on, Daddy.” Lyndsey started for the truck, wrapping an arm protectively around her precious cargo.
“Where are you staying?” Annie asked Sam.
“At the Mountainside Motel.” The only one in Sweetheart open for business after the fire. “But we check out tomorrow. I have some furniture arriving. A few basics. Enough for Lyndsey and me to stay at the ranch.”
“I’ll try and stop by after work if I don’t have to stay late. Just to check on the raccoons,” she clarified when he raised his brows.
“Of course.” He studied her closed-off expression. “Thank you.”
“I didn’t do it for you.” She walked away then.
Sam watched her go. Same proud, stubborn Annie.
“Daddy! Hurry.”
“Coming.”
As they traveled the winding drive to the main road, a smile spread across his face. Annie might refuse his assistance at every step, but together they were going to rebuild her inn.
He owed her that much at least.
Chapter Two
Sam Wyler was back!
Annie still hadn’t come to grips with that fact twenty minutes later when she pulled into the parking space beside the Hennessy half of the duplex they rented in town.
She’d kept one eye glued to her rearview mirror during the entire drive from the Gold Nugget, hoping he hadn’t followed her. The last thing she wanted was for him to see where she lived.
Not that the two-bedroom apartment was exactly trashy. Just small and modest and nothing compared with the lovely and charming suite of rooms she’d occupied at the inn. The rooms Sam had seen when they’d sneak off to be alone and make love.
She’d assumed those nights spent together would last forever. Then, he’d left, returned, left again and married—because the daughter of the rancher who hired him was carrying his child—and become a father.
Annie stayed behind in Sweetheart, hoping for the same future every couple who eloped here did. Only that happy ending had eluded her.