Sunset Bay Sanctuary

by Roxanne Snopek

  “If she abandoned her baby,” said Aiden, “she doesn’t deserve to keep her.”

  “Aiden.” Haylee’s face was pale. “This is a complicated situation.”

  “I’m going to start looking for her along the coast road,” Haylee said. “If she’s hitching, I’ll pick her up. Liv, you want to come with me? Or should we split up and go in separate directions?”

  Olivia gave her a long look. “Why don’t you two go together? Gayle and I will take another car. Gideon is going out on horseback, in case she’s avoiding the roads. Huck’s going to scour the yard again, and Daphne’s staying with the baby. Someone needs to be able to manage the Fioris in the morning.”

  “Good,” said Aiden. “Let’s go while there’s still a bit of light out.”

  He’d barely gotten his door closed when Haylee put the car in gear and backed out of the yard.

  * * *

  They drove slowly down the coast road with Aiden shining Haylee’s police-issue flashlight into the fields on his side. Darkness was setting in fast. A lone coyote dashed across the road right in front of them, and they saw the startled faces of several deer, their eyes glowing greenly in the dark. There was little traffic in either direction. Less than five miles down the road, Haylee’s headlights caught a gleam of red.

  “Slow down! I think that’s her backpack.”

  Thank God for reflective tape. Sage was huddled on the far side of the ditch, leaning against a fence post, hugging her knees. She didn’t even look up when the car approached.

  Haylee jumped out before the car had rocked to a complete stop.

  “Sage! Are you okay? What are you doing out here?”

  Fear and relief quickly turned to anger. She stumbled through the weedy ditch and fell on her knees in front of the girl, gripping her by the shoulders.

  “What the hell were you thinking? We could have been anyone. Don’t you know how dangerous it is to hitchhike at night like this?”

  She didn’t realize how hard she was shaking her until Aiden came up and pulled her off.

  “Easy, Haylee.” He squeezed her arms gently. “I’ve got this.”

  He pulled off his jacket and draped it over Sage’s hunched back. Haylee realized belatedly that the girl was shivering.

  “I wasn’t hitchhiking.” Sage’s voice was muffled by the layers. “I saw a dog. I think she’s lost.”

  She pointed to the grass. Haylee pointed the flashlight. A pair of eyes blinked up at her. Not a coyote or a deer this time.

  “You went wandering around in the middle of the night for a dog? Are you insane? Why didn’t you tell me? I’d have helped.”

  “It’s not the middle of the night. I wanted to do it myself. I think she’s hurt.”

  Aiden touched Sage’s forehead, then put a finger under her chin.

  “I’m Dr. Mac. Do you remember me?”

  She looked numbly at Aiden, her eyes dead and sagging. “Yeah. You helped me. In the hospital.”

  “That’s right. You’re cold and exhausted. Let’s get you inside the car where it’s warm, okay?”

  But Sage shook her head. “Not without Karma.”

  “Karma?” said Haylee. “You’ve named her already?”

  “I’m not leaving her. She needs me.”

  “Yeah, so does Sal. Get in the car.” She exhaled, forcing herself to calm down. “We’ll come back for the dog.”

  “No. Don’t make me leave her. Come on, Haylee. I need this. I can’t . . . I’m not . . .”

  “You can’t what?”

  But Sage turned away from Haylee, her face closed.

  “It’s okay,” said Aiden. “They’ll both fit in the backseat.”

  Haylee looked at the pathetic creature Sage called Karma. She flopped her tail twice. Friendly then. She looked like a shepherd-collie cross, a huge mass of sable and black and gray fur, tufted and matted. She was covered in burrs and thistles.

  Aiden took Sage by the arm and helped her to her feet. Haylee wondered if Sage even realized what was happening. She looked altered. Maybe the girl was into drugs. They’d screened her at the hospital and neither she nor the baby tested positive, but that didn’t mean she was clean now.

  Sage squeezed her eyes shut, as if her head was suddenly pierced with pain.

  “I don’t know if I can do it, Haylee. She shouldn’t have happened. She sure shouldn’t have happened to me.”

  The words tripped a wire in Haylee, triggering an echo of words she’d said herself long ago and had tried so hard to forget. She recognized the self-pity, the adolescent desire to pretend away uncomfortable reality and sidestep consequences. But she also heard the terror of having unwittingly found herself responsible for another life, at a time when she couldn’t even care for herself.

  “Don’t say that,” she said softly. “Don’t you ever say that. She’s here, with you, and you will figure it out. You’re stronger than you think you are.”

  She knew the irony of her words but hell, maybe this weird circularity was the world’s way of giving her a second chance. God knew, she didn’t have much to offer Sage. But this particular pain she understood. Maybe she could help the girl—her daughter—keep her head above water long enough to learn to swim, whichever direction she chose.

  She didn’t expect the rebuff she got.

  “Like you’re one to talk.” Sage stopped in front of the car and spat the words at her.

  Aiden looked between the two of them, his forehead furrowed. His mouth opened but before he could say anything Haylee gave him a tiny head shake and mouthed the word Don’t.

  She spoke low and quickly. “If you give up now, Sage, if you run away from her like this, you might never see her again. Is that what you want?”

  “It worked for you. Why wouldn’t I do the same thing? Why wouldn’t I learn from my own mother?”

  Her mouth twisted up on the last word and tears shone in her eyes.

  Haylee ignored Aiden’s swift intake of breath. She knew hearts didn’t actually break. But the pain that welled up from Sage’s words—from the truth—seemed to access hidden troughs of grief that Haylee had thought long since scarred over. First her mom’s illness. Then, with the grief from her death still fresh, the catastrophic loss of not only her father and brother, but her home, her friends, everything that had been familiar to her.

  She’d wept for all of them the day Sage was born. But, contrary to what she’d told Olivia, those tears had not been about regretting her “mistake.” There’d been a shit-load of mistakes, sure, but Sage wasn’t one of them. She was a miracle, a gift, the one good thing that had come from the darkness.

  Haylee had wept because even though she already loved her child more than she thought possible, it wouldn’t be enough. Her heart was so battered, the only way to save herself was to sever the ties quickly, cleanly, hand her baby over to unbroken people who could love her as she deserved.

  Her voice was husky when she spoke. “I didn’t run away, Sage. You don’t want to run now, either. Not really.”

  “How do you know what I want? You barely even talk to me!” Sage angled out from Haylee’s grasp and took off at a clumsy run.

  Haylee leaped after her, pulling her down into the soft grasses lining the roadside. She felt sharp bones through the layers of shapeless clothing Sage continued to wear and something inside her broke. What had gone so wrong in this girl’s life that coming here, to find the birth mother who’d rejected her, was her best option?

  “Fuck you,” gasped Sage. “Let me go.”

  Karma the dog was at Sage’s side, whining.

  “Funny,” said Haylee. “I thought I had. Now sit up. Did I hurt you?”

  “When?” Sage crab-walked away a step, then sank to the ground again. “When you gave me away? Or now, when I came back? When I showed up here?”

  The jab struck deep. She’d chosen Sage’s parents carefully but what did they say about the best-laid plans? She’d told herself she’d done the right thing and for years, she’d
convinced herself it was true. It had to be true. How else could she live with it?

  “Get up.” Aiden took Sage’s arm and helped her to her feet. “I don’t know what’s going on and I can see that the two of you have a lot to work out. But you’re not going to do it here. Sage, if you don’t come back to the house willingly, I’ll call the police. Is that what you want?”

  “You can’t do that!”

  “I don’t want to,” he said. “But I will if I have to. Now get in the damn car and quit fighting. You’ve got a scrape on your leg and I’d rather patch you up in Daphne’s kitchen than have you brought to my emergency room in handcuffs.” Once Sage was in the car, Aiden buckled her seat belt, lifted the dog in from the other side, and slammed the door.

  “Want me to drive?”

  Wordlessly, Haylee passed the keys over. She didn’t trust herself at the wheel at the moment.

  As soon as he and Haylee were seated, Aiden flicked the locks.

  “Fascist,” muttered Sage.

  “Don’t use big words you don’t understand, honey,” he said.

  “Fuck you.”

  “Much better.”

  “We’ll bring the dog home tonight, Sage.” Haylee forced herself to respond. “But come morning, I’ll have to let the shelters know. Someone might be looking for her.”

  Sage burst into tears and threw her arms over the creature on the seat beside her. Slowly her sobs trickled to a whimper as her energy faded and by the time they pulled into the yard, her head was bobbing against the upholstered seat back.

  “How can you be sure she won’t take off again?” Aiden asked.

  “I’ll put the dog in her room with her.” She nodded to Karma. “You don’t go anywhere silently with a dog of this size. And I guarantee you, she won’t leave the dog behind.”

  Aiden picked up the sleeping girl in his arms as if she weighed no more than his weekly dry-cleaning order.

  “I hope you’re right,” he said.

  * * *

  The cook met Aiden on the porch steps, with baby Sal in her arms wailing.

  “Our poor girl,” said Daphne. “Bring her inside. That baby is starving and I’d guess little mama isn’t far behind. I should have realized that she wasn’t doing well.”

  Sage stirred at the sound and Haylee bent into the backseat to help her out. Aiden felt like an idiot for not noticing the resemblance between them earlier. The sweep of jaw was the same, they each had freckles on the bridge of their noses, they both shared the same wild curls, though Sage’s were dyed black as coal.

  As Haylee straightened, her eyes met his briefly before sliding away.

  “This is a kid who knows how to hide,” Aiden said. “Let’s get that baby on the breast before we all go deaf.”

  Huck, poised on the kitchen threshold, pivoted on his socked foot and left without saying a word.

  Aiden set Sage down and Daphne arranged pillows around her and unzipped the girl’s hooded sweatshirt.

  “You might want to leave the room while I get her settled,” she suggested.

  “I’m a doctor,” he protested.

  “You’re a man. Out.”

  He went to the front room, where he found Haylee, clicking off her cell phone. Jewel lay at her feet. The dog Sage called Karma was lapping at the water bowl, her shaggy tail down, her wide sides shaking in time with the movements.

  “I texted Olivia and Gideon. They’re on their way back. Everyone’s very relieved.” She swallowed. “Thanks, Aiden.”

  He didn’t want her gratitude. He wanted an explanation. He was part of this. Or at least, he would be, if she’d let him.

  He pulled up a chair, flipped it around, and straddled it, resting his arms on the back.

  Jewel lifted her head, watching Aiden intently.

  “Looks like there are some pretty big pieces of this puzzle you’ve left out, Haylee. You’re Sage’s birth mother?”

  Haylee looked away and bit her lip. “It’s complicated, Aiden.”

  “Not really. Sperm meets egg. Zygote becomes embryo. Embryo becomes baby. Woman becomes mother.”

  Jewel sat up.

  “It’s okay, Jewel.” The dog settled at Haylee’s gesture but kept her eyes on him. “It’s not exactly your typical reunion, Aiden. I haven’t figured out how to handle it yet.”

  “No kidding.” He’d barely seen the two of them interact. He’d never have guessed there was an emotional connection between them, let alone that they were mother and daughter.

  He was mystified and disappointed. Haylee played herself as an unromantic, unsentimental, hard-bitten person, but he’d watched her in the solarium with the elderly patients, seen her gentle touches, heard her kind words. He’d witnessed her firm but kind hand with Athena Fiori, her affection for Duane at the hospital information desk.

  Hell, he’d experienced her gentleness himself.

  She wasn’t heartless. So why was she acting like it?

  “Your own . . . daughter has been living here all these weeks.” He shook his head. “And you never thought to mention it to me. You treat her as if she’s nothing more to you than those boys that work in the barn. And the baby . . . that’s your granddaughter, for God’s sake.”

  “You’ll want to dial it back, Doc,” said Huck from the doorway. He leaned casually against it, cleaning beneath his fingernails with a small pocket knife. “Haylee’s business is her own. She’ll tell you when she’s ready. Or not.”

  It was as if a door he thought he’d already walked through was slowly swinging shut, leaving him on the outside looking in.

  “So . . . you knew about Sage, too?” He looked from Haylee to Huck and back again. “You told him? But you wouldn’t tell me?”

  “It’s not like that, Aiden,” said Haylee. She rubbed a hand over her face.

  Just hours ago, they’d been opening up to each other, sharing their hearts. Or so he thought.

  Now the wagons were closing around her, guarding and protecting, as if he were a danger to her.

  Him.

  “You can come in now, Dr. Mac,” called Daphne. “She’s decent.”

  He left the sitting room, eager to focus his attention on something less painful, something he could understand, something he could help with. Haylee followed a few steps behind him.

  Sage was reclining on the sofa, the baby nestled against her chest, nursing avidly. A glass of water stood on a side table, next to a plate with two pieces of toast dripping with strawberry jam, and a steaming pile of scrambled eggs.

  “Baby’s having trouble latching on,” Daphne said. “But I’ve got it sorted out. You, missy, have got to feed this one more often. You’ll get mighty uncomfortable if you don’t.”

  “Any signs of mastitis?” asked Aiden.

  Daphne shook her head. “Not yet anyway. I’ll keep a close eye on her from now on.”

  Sage groaned.

  “I gave you privacy,” said Daphne. “You ran away. So, you’re grounded and you get me for a shadow.”

  “And Karma,” said Haylee. “Huck’s putting an extra large crate in your room. She can stay there tonight, but if you try another stunt like this, Sage, I swear—”

  “Stop it!” Olivia strode through the door, took Haylee by the arm, and turned her toward Aiden. “Take her outside, please. We’ve had enough drama for one night.”

  “Gladly.”

  Haylee shook off his hand, stomping down the steps ahead of him without protest. She stopped at his car.

  “Sorry about tonight. You should get home. I guess I’ll see you . . . later.”

  “Don’t even think of sending me away,” he said. He pointed her in the direction of her cabin. “We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

  “Forget it, Aiden. Some things are best kept buried.”

  “Yeah? What if they pop their heads up above the sand and call you Mama? What if they bring a baby along? No way. Let’s go.”

  Maybe she was exhausted; maybe she’d given in. He didn’t care. It was time for an
swers and, by God, he was going to get them.

  * * *

  Everyone at the ranch had something they didn’t like to talk about. But before anyone got hired on, she and Olivia did thorough background checks on each of them. They knew about Daphne’s time in prison. They knew the symbolism behind the key Jamie had tattooed on her inner wrist. They knew how Abby supported her little sister when they weren’t working in the ranch gardens. They knew why Huck knitted and Ezra chewed fresh mint and Gideon took mysterious trips to British Columbia from time to time.

  She and Olivia guarded that information faithfully but as time passed and trust grew, layers fell away and stories slipped out, always and only at the teller’s discretion. Haylee had never painted the whole portrait about her family or how she and her aunt had come to live and work together but she’d drawn enough broad strokes that every year, when she became moody and incommunicative, they kept quiet, but gave her extra help with her chores.

  They were as close as any of them had to a family and better than the blood bonds most of them had experienced.

  But when Sage arrived, that changed. Haylee didn’t question exactly how Huck had known that she’d given up a child, or how he’d discovered that Sage was that child. But she wasn’t surprised. He was keenly observant and smarter than people gave him credit for.

  Olivia had quietly explained the situation to Daphne and Gideon, too, and Haylee hoped she’d told Jamie and Abby, too. It was a relief not to have to hide it anymore.

  But it felt different, having Aiden know this about her.

  “I didn’t mean for you to find out this way,” she said as they walked to her cabin. The night had fallen and the sky was bright with stars and a full moon. The silence was complete, except for the sound of their footfalls on the gravel.

  “You didn’t mean for me to find out at all,” he said.

  “Can you blame me? It’s not the sort of thing one blurts out to a stranger.”

  Aiden stopped and turned to face her. “Is that what I am to you? A stranger?”

  His voice was quiet and laced with pain.

  “See, this is the reason I told you it was a bad idea to get involved. I’m a bad bet, Aiden. You can’t say I didn’t warn you.”