Chapter Four

      Annie tried not to stare at Sam as she set the cage down and walked over to Lyndsey. He didn’t make it easy. Levi’s, a faded chambray shirt and a Stetson covering thick, dark hair in need of a cut was a look he wore well.

      Standing straight, she reminded herself he’d left her high and dry. Not once, but twice. There would be no third time.

      “Gosh, would you look at them!” She directed her smile at Lyndsey and the kits.

      “They’re eating canned cat food!” Lyndsey exclaimed. One kit scrambled up her chest toward her shoulder while the other one clawed at the crate.

      “Already? I’m impressed.”

      “You think they’re going to be all right?”

      The kits were active, alert and responsive. All encouraging signs.

      “It’s a little too soon to say for certain, but my guess is they’ll make it.”

      “Why did their mommy and brothers die? Was it because of the fire?”

      “Not the fire itself.” Annie started to say the entire eco-structure in the area had been profoundly altered, which, in turn, affected local wildlife, then decided the explanation was too complicated for an eight-year-old. “The land’s changed, and the animals are have a harder time surviving than they once did.”

      “This one is Daffy.” Lindsey lifted the kit from her lap into the air. “Want to hold him?”

      “Sure.” Annie took the kit and cradled it close. The warm feel and musky scent were familiar. How many baby raccoons had she rescued and raised? Six? Ten?

      Now she was rescuing and raising her family. If only that were as easy as a pair of kits.

      “You’d better take him.” She returned Daffy to Lyndsey. “The fewer people who handle him and his brother, the better.”

      “Why?”

      “They’ll adjust easier to the animal sanctuary or the wild.”

      Lyndsey sucked in a gasp. “Won’t they just die if you let them go?”

      “At this age, yes. But the sanctuary will care for them until they’re old enough to be safely released. And they’ll teach them how to find food and to take care of themselves.”

      “That’s what Ms. Hennessy did.” The remark came from Sam. “With all the animals she took in.”

      “Some. Others weren’t ever able to fend for themselves.”

      “What happened to them?” Lyndsey hugged Daffy closer.

      “I kept them for the rest of their lives.”

      “You had quite a collection,” Sam said. “I’d help you feed and clean the enclosures.” He looked at Lyndsey. “Her mother used to call it the zoo.”

      Annie snuck a quick peek at him. The thrill she’d fended off earlier wound through her, proving she wasn’t immune to him and the easy, sexy charm he exuded.

      As if she’d ever been.

      He was older now. Experience had left its mark on his face and made him even more handsome—and her more susceptible.

      “Wow!” Lyndsey’s eyes went wide. “That must have been cool.”

      “It was,” Sam concurred. “And then, she’d treat my horses whenever they needed some minor medical attention. Cuts, colic, vaccinations. We were a good team.” His gaze found hers and held it.

      “Once, maybe.” A rush of memories assailed Annie, and she forced herself to look away.

      “You’re like a vet!”

      Thankfully, Lyndsey appeared unaware of the emotions flying between Annie and her father.

      “Not hardly. But I thought I wanted to be one when I was your age.”

      “What stopped you?” Sam asked.

      She turned and faced him. “The inn. I was needed there.”

      “Do you ever regret your choice?”

      “Not for one second. Sweetheart Inn has been in my family for three generations. It will be for a fourth.”

      “What happened to the animals?” Lyndsey asked.

      “I stopped collecting so many after your dad...after a while.” Annie went over and retrieved the cage from where she’d left it. “Where are you keeping the kits?”

      “In my bedroom,” Lyndsey promptly answered.

      “That was just for last night.” Sam bent and stroked her hair. “We talked about this. The barn is the best place.”

      She pulled away, her mouth set in a firm line. “You always say no.”

      Annie sensed the friction between them wasn’t due entirely to the kits. This battle had been waged before over something else.

      “Your dad’s right,” she said gently. “The barn is better. For one thing, unless you clean their cage ten times a day, they’ll smell. Really bad.”

      “I’ll clean it.”

      “And they’re noisy. Raccoons are mostly nocturnal.”

      “Nocturnal?”

      “They sleep during the day and are awake at night. They’ll keep you up and everyone else in the house.”

      “I’ll sleep during the day.” Lyndsey put the kit back into the crate. He and his brother immediately began play fighting, tussling and growling at each other.

      “Sweetie,” Sam said, his patience showing signs of wearing thin, “you can’t.”

      Annie had anticipated Lyndsey’s objection even before her father finished speaking.

      “Why!” She sprang to her feet, fists clenched at her sides. “I’m not in school or summer camp.” She wrenched away when he reached for her. “You won’t let me do anything.”

      Annie should just shut