SASHA“H
e’s a Dutch Shepherd, Border Collie brindle mix,” the young guy with the braids standing at her front door said. A brown and black striped puppy whimpered inside the large crate by the courier’s feet. “I can carry him in if you’d like. He’s a little on the heavy side. Sixteen weeks old. He’s going to be a big boy.”
“I didn’t order a puppy,” Sasha replied and was wary that the stranger might be a fan, or worse. It was Lynn’s day off. Why had she answered the door? “I think there’s been a mistake. Just let me check with my husband.” She started to close the door.
“It’s a gift.” The guy flashed a friendly smile. “From your husband.”
Who gives a pregnant woman a puppy? “I’m sorry.” Sasha offered a wide smile back, even though inside she was still seething, crabby with heat, uncomfo
