Nikki and the Lone Wolf (10 page)

Her mouth…

Nikki.

He'd never felt like this. He'd never known he could feel like this. He had everything he wanted in his life right here, right now.

Stupid? Maybe it was, but there was no way he was going to think that; there was no way he was thinking anything while she was kissing him.

Her hands were in his hair, tugging him closer, deepening the kiss. She wanted this as much as he did. It was as if a key deep within had been turned, releasing emotion he hardly knew he'd locked away. He let himself kiss, he let himself be kissed, and a well of bitterness was unleashed, flowed outward, away and disappeared into the warm salt spray over the ocean.

Nikki…

And then Horse barked.

The dog had been lying limp over their legs, a dead weight neither of them noticed, but when a dog Horse's size barked
from your knees and stood and headed for the side again it was time to stop kissing and pay attention.

No matter how much it hurt. No matter that it was a wrench that almost tore him apart.

But he moved. He caught Horse's collar and held. Horse was still attached to the harness but he wasn't taking any chances. Nikki tried to help. She looked as if she was struggling back from somewhere she hadn't known existed. Her eyes held wonder.

Wonder for both of them?

Horse barked again and hauled to the side. Then whined. Gabe tugged him back and looked to see what Horse was barking at.

Something floated to the surface in a pool of crimson.

A seal. Sliced neatly, horribly, in half.

There was a flash of streamlined silver and the thing was gone, hauled down, out of sight, with only the pool of blood remaining.

Nikki's face lost all its colour. He grabbed her as well as Horse, scared she'd faint. He hadn't put the side lines back up; there was no way he was risking her falling.

He had the dog in one hand. His other arm was holding Nikki while she stared in appalled fascination at the disappearing streaks of blood.

‘What…what…?' She choked on the words as if she was having trouble breathing. ‘It was a seal. What…?'

‘A White Pointer,' he said grimly, holding her fast. Trying not to think how close they'd come.

‘A White…'

‘Sharks,' he said. ‘This is seal territory and sharks eat seals.'

‘I could have…Horse…'

‘That's why I was yelling,' he told her. It was no use lying. She lived here now. If she told anyone about Horse's escapade she'd be told about the sharks. ‘Any injured seal is fair game. Sharks sense them by thrashing. Seals are sleek in the water.
You guys were asking for trouble.' He motioned to the bloodstained water. ‘The shark will be here because of you. He'll have circled for a bit, watched, and then I hauled his supper out of reach. So the seal was the alternative.'

‘Oh…' she gasped, and choked back a sob of pure terror, then tugged away from him and stared at him in horror. ‘You let me jump over the side.'

‘I hardly…'

‘You could have yelled “Shark”.'
She
was yelling.

‘You might have drowned with fright.'

‘You could have…'

‘What? Yell
Shark
, but nice harmless shark with no teeth? Pat-a-shark territory. Oh, but get out anyway because you might be allergic.'

She choked on something that was half laughter, half shock, then stared again down to where the streaks of blood were now dissipating, leaving a faint crimson tinge to the sea. She shuddered.

Horse whined again and she held him close, and Gabe thought,
Why not me? If you want comfort, why not me?

It was a dumb thought.
Back away
, he told himself.
You've kissed her, do you want to take this further?

Yes.

That was another dumb thought, but it was there and it wasn't going away.

Clothes. Practical stuff. Any minute she'd figure she was freezing and, as if the thought was relayed, she shuddered again.

‘There's dry stuff in the locker below,' he said, and his voice came out gruffer than he intended. ‘It might not be what you're used to…'

She rose. Wiped her wet hands on her tight wet jeans. Made a visible effort to pull herself together. ‘Dry?'

‘There's towels, overalls, sweaters, boots. We're used to wet. One size fits most. Or actually one size doesn't fit any
one—spares are huge; you roll 'em up, tuck 'em in, do what you can. Best I can do, I'm afraid.'

‘The best you can do is awesome,' she whispered. ‘I'm sorry I yelled.'

‘You had a fright.'

‘So did we all. And I'm still sorry I yelled. I never meant… I would never mean…'

She ran out of things to say. Instead, she reached for him, took his hands in hers, kissed him again, lightly on the lips, a feather-touch. And then she was gone, slipping below, leaving him with one sodden dog who was looking as confused as he felt.

T
HE
trip home was made in near silence. Too much had happened. Too much was happening.

Nikki towelled Horse and cuddled him while Gabe stayed in the wheelhouse. He needed to stay in the wheelhouse. The fact that he wanted to be on the deck with them was irrelevant. More than irrelevant. There were things going on that needed careful thought.

When your foundations shifted, you didn't race to build again. You waited to see if your foundations shifted some more.

That was how he felt, he decided, as he headed back to harbour. As if the solid ground had been pulled from under him.

He didn't know where to take this. He didn't know…anything.

Horse, at least, had settled. He draped himself over Nikki, he whined occasionally but he'd stopped looking at the horizon.

By the time they reached port he was dry and starting to scratch.

Gabe steered the
Lady Nell
back into her berth. Crew members usually stepped onto the jetty, attached stays to bollards, helped.

Nikki didn't know what crew members were supposed to do. She stayed where she was, under Horse.

Gabe could manage. He'd taken the boat out by himself a thousand times. He'd taken his boat out with crew a lot more.

Taking it out, even with a crew, seemed lonely compared with what he'd had today.

Woman and dog.

Remember Lisbette, he told himself harshly. The one time he'd let himself believe, he'd come close to losing his livelihood.

He'd been lucky. Then it had just been Gabe who'd been affected. If it happened again…if he got into financial trouble now, the fishing industry of this town could well go under.

A man needed to keep his head.

Steer clear of women.

How could he do that now? Where were resolutions when you needed them?

He roped the last stay, tightened cleats, collected Nikki's wet gear from below.

Nikki struggled to rise from under Horse. He couldn't help himself. He gave her a hand and tugged her to her feet.

Mistake. She was too close.

His hand didn't release hers.

Horse scratched. Distraction. Good.

He managed to get his hand back.

‘He's spent too much time in salt water,' he said, deciding he had to concentrate on the practical. ‘All that sponging I did last night has been undone. He'll scratch himself sore with the salt. There's shampoo you can buy at the Co-op. Ask Marcia. She'll tell you. Tell her I sent you or she'll sell you the expensive stuff.'

‘Thank you,' she said. ‘Gabe…'

‘Yes?' He turned away, tugged up the hatch, showing by his actions that he was moving on.

He was thinking he should go home and help her bathe the dog.

He had crays to deal with. A man had to be sensible.

Dog. Shampoo. Bath. His thoughts were no longer sensible in the least.

Nikki.

He had to give himself time to get his head in order.

Stay clear.

Nikki was a smart woman, he told himself harshly, and Horse was docile. She could bathe the dog.

Her bath was big enough. But the thoughts wouldn't be vanquished. Dog. Shampoo. Bath. He had a clear vision of them in her bathroom, in the vast old tub, soap everywhere…

Um…no.

‘You were wonderful,' she said.

‘And you weren't shark meat,' he retorted, not turning back. Determined on being sensible. ‘Excellent.'

‘It is excellent,' she said. ‘For all sorts of reasons. Come on Horse, we're going home.'

And Nikki and Horse stepped from the boat onto the wharf without him even helping. They walked away.

He concentrated on the crays.

He didn't watch their going, but it took real effort.

 

Nikki and Horse walked slowly home around the headland, following the cliff path so they wouldn't necessarily see anyone. She had some pride, and the oversized overalls and huge fisherman's Guernsey weren't exactly elegant.

Nor was her dog.

‘We match,' she told him. Horse was plodding wearily beside her. She should never have taken him on the boat. He should have slept today.

He should be sleeping now.

He looked desolate, big and ragged and defeated. It wasn't his health, she thought. It was his heart. He'd leaped into the water to follow what he thought was someone who loved him.

They were on the dirt track in the middle of bushland leading back to the house. No one was around. She squatted and hugged him.

‘It's okay,' she told him, burying her face in his salt-encrusted coat. ‘You can move on. It's possible.'

Like she was moving on? By kissing Gabe instead of kissing Jonathan?

‘I didn't actually do it to distract me from feeling bad about Jonathan,' she told Horse, who didn't understand at all. ‘But it did distract me.'

It certainly had. She sat and hugged her dog, the sun shone on her face and she thought…she thought…

Life was full of possibilities. Exciting possibilities.

Possibilities that looked pretty much like Gabe Carver.

She'd thought she was alone, but she wasn't quite. A couple of elderly walkers strode round the bend and she had to shift so they could pass. They were stocky, sensible women with hiking poles, walking with intent.

They reached her and stopped.

Two days ago she might have cringed. Woman pulled from sea, dressed in fisherman's clothes, hugging a scraggy dog. This was pretty much as far from her life in Sydney as she could get.

‘Are you all right?' one of the women asked, and she even managed a smile.

‘My dog's a bit subdued,' she said. ‘We're having a wee rest.'

‘That's not one of Henrietta's dogs?' the woman demanded, staring down at Horse. ‘I remember him. I saw the accident when the dogs escaped. This one just bolted. Terrified. And you'll be the lady living with Gabe Carver. I saw Hen at the post office this morning and she said you're keeping him. Oh, my dear…'

‘I'm not looking after him very well,' Nikki admitted. The sun was warm on her face. Horse was settling. She was prepared to be expansive.

The world felt expansive, she decided. Plus the way the lady had said it…
You'll be the lady living with Gabe Carver.
It gave
her a local identity, something she hadn't had until now. She wasn't sure why, but she liked it. Maybe it was sexist. Maybe it was stupid. Whatever, but she still liked it. ‘Gabe took us out on his boat this morning and we fell in.'

‘You fell in?'

‘Gabe took you out on his boat?'

Both women looked at her, then looked back at each other. Stunned.

‘I went to help with the cray-pots,' Nikki said, the odd happy feeling not fading. ‘But we were worse than useless. We caught some crays. Then Horse dived in and it was all downhill from there.'

‘Horse?'

‘My dog.'

My dog.
That sounded good, too. It sounded great. There were things happening inside her that felt delicious.

She hadn't planned on staying out today. She should be rushing home now to finish her engineering plans. But instead she was sitting in the middle of a walking trail discussing her very exciting morning with a couple of strangers.

Discussing Gabe?

‘That's his sweater,' one lady said and Nikki glanced down at the oversized Guernsey and giggled. Being caught in Gabe's sweater felt good, too.

‘He had spare clothes,' she said and grinned. ‘I didn't pinch his.'

‘Oh, my dear…'

‘Where's Gabe now?' the first lady asked.

‘Unloading his crays. I'm going home to bathe Horse. He's itchy.' She hesitated. ‘Though I'm not sure how. I could use my bath but I don't trust the plumbing. And how would I lift him in?'

‘Gabe might help,' the first lady ventured.

‘Gabe?' the other said incredulously and they both made wry faces.

‘Gabe might do it,' the lady explained as Nikki looked a question. ‘But he'd do it at midnight when no one was looking. He's a very private person, our Gabe. He helps. But he helps when no one's looking.'

‘That's not a lot of use to me,' Nikki said. Waiting for Gabe to bathe Horse at midnight? Maybe not. ‘Don't worry. I'll manage.' She had to. This was her dog. She needed to be independent.

But he was so big!

‘I'll tell you what,' the first lady said. ‘You take the doggy home and let him have a sleep. He looks exhausted. Maudie and I will finish our walk, we'll fetch the right shampoo for an itchy coat and we'll drive my truck around and help. I have a big plastic tub; I'll bring that. I'm Hilda, by the way, and you must be Nikki. While we bathe your dog you can tell us all about yourself.'

Nikki considered. She should bathe Horse herself.

Or wait for Gabe?

The first might be impossible.

The second?

A girl had some pride. She'd kissed him. That didn't mean she depended on him.

She'd been dependent on a man for the last four years, she told herself. If she was to be independent, the time to start was now.

But Horse was enormous. Be sensible. She needed to accept help when it was offered.

If she was going to be a part of this community she might as well start now.

‘Thank you,' she said. ‘That would be lovely.'

She could be a little bit dependent, she decided. She just couldn't be dependent on Gabe.

 

A working bee was therefore following her home.

Horse headed for his trampoline, flopped and was asleep
in seconds. Nikki showered, then tried to figure what to wear for dog bathing. Her one pair of jeans was sodden, everything else was classy and she didn't want to scare Maudie and Hilda with her city clothes. Finally she simply put Gabe's clothes back on. She felt ridiculous, but oooh, she was comfortable.

She stared at herself in the mirror. Fisherman Nikki.

Her hand reached automatically to the can of product designed to smooth her crazy curls. She flicked the power switch on her straightener—and then flicked it off.

She ran the hairdryer through her curls and they flew every which way. She looked at her reflection and she hardly recognised herself.

She grinned.

What next? She needed to stoke up for dog-washing.

She headed for the kitchen. Made herself a cheese sandwich. Considered. Made another. Sat on the doorstep in the sun and ate them. Thought about the sushi and black coffee she'd have eaten at her desk back in Sydney.

Hilda and Maudie were taking ages. While she waited, Horse slept.

She looked at the gap in the stone wall and it looked back at her.

It was Gabe's hole in the wall. Do not touch.

Find her own?

She had work to do. Air conditioning plans.

In Gabe's study, his books on dry stone walling…

Find your own.

She headed down to the pile of stones by the hole in the wall. Picked up stones, considered them, matched them, put them back on the pile. Gabe's hole in the fence remained just that.

Just practising. Just learning. Keeping an ear out for Gabe's truck so she could disappear fast.

There must be somewhere round here where she could get her own pile of stones.

Maybe there was someone to teach her.

Plans. Engineering. Her career.

The sun was too warm to think about plans.

She'd finish this set of plans, she told herself, and the next contracted job. But then…

She had enough money to be independent for quite a while. Her pay for the last few jobs had been enormous, and living in Jon's apartment had cost very little.

She'd been living Jon's life.

‘This could be
my
life,' she said out loud.

Then she heard a ‘Halloo' from along the road. Maudie and Hilda had arrived, bearing dog stuff.

‘We're here to help,' Hilda called. ‘I have the world's biggest ice-bucket as a bath. We have shampoo and conditioner and scissors and brushes and two hairdryers and six old towels. Do you think that should do it?'

‘I hope so,' Nikki said and grinned. She felt as if she was stepping into a new life. Or maybe she'd stepped into it the moment she'd met Horse.

Or the moment she'd hit Gabe over the head?

 

There were people in his front yard. Lots of people. Seven? Eight? Ten?

They'd lit the barbecue.

When he'd asked Dorothy in the rental agency about setting this place up, she'd included a barbecue on her list.

‘Put in a barbecue where your tenant can cook and see the sea. It'll almost double the rent.'

Up until now it hadn't been lit.

It was lit now. He climbed out of the truck and the smell of sausages and onions hit him like a siren song.

‘Gabe!' It was Henrietta from the Animal Shelter, waving a bread-wrapped sausage. Henrietta's son was on barbecue duty. He recognised Hilda and Maudie, founding members of
the town's stalwart walking group, deep in conversation with Joe, his own personal handyman.

Joe's springer spaniels were checking out Horse. Horse was snoozing on his trampoline which had obviously been brought outside so he could catch some late afternoon sun.

Nikki was deep in conversation with a lady older than Methuselah.

Aggie, Henrietta's mother. What the…?

‘Nikki needed help bathing Horse,' Henrietta called, her voice filled with reproach. ‘Where have you been?'

‘I took a load of crays to Whale Cove.'

‘Nikki needed help.'

‘He's Nikki's dog,' he said shortly.
What was Aggie doing here?

‘It doesn't matter. We got on fine without you.' Nikki smiled and waved and he was hit by a blast of…difference.

She was still in his clothes. They were way too big for her. He'd thought until today that her hair was straight. Her hair was currently a riot. Curls everywhere.

She was sitting on the grass beside Horse. The springer spaniels were at her feet, nosing Horse, who was interested but he wasn't getting off his trampoline.