Nikki and the Lone Wolf (11 page)

Someone had carried a chair outside for Aggie. She was about a hundred. Best guess. She'd been about a hundred ever since he could remember.

What was she doing here?

‘Tell us what you think of Horse,' Henrietta demanded. ‘Horse, show Uncle Gabe what you look like.'

Uncle Gabe?
He had people in his backyard. He was starting to feel…

Horse stood up. It was a bit of a struggle but he managed it. His great tail wagged and something inside Gabe…

No. Don't go there. That ended with Jem.

He tried to look—dispassionately.

Horse had been worked on. Bathed. Combed. Anointed. The
remnants of his coat were gleaming, knots cut or teased out, then brushed until it shone. He wobbled a little on his long legs but his crazy tail wagged, the feathering underneath waving wildly. He looked almost beautiful. He looked…almost happy.

He flopped back down on his belly. He gazed up at Gabe and his tail still waved.

So much for dispassionate. He was a sucker for dogs.

And after all, he told himself, this was Nikki's dog. Gabe could bend and scratch him behind the ears without committing himself to anyone. To anything.

But what was Aggie doing here? And all these people…

No one messed with his privacy.

Renting out part of his house had been a bad idea.

‘You approve?' Nikki asked and he could tell she was anxious. She was kneeling beside Horse. Because he'd stooped to pat Horse, he was close.

Really close.

‘He looks great.'

‘Doesn't he?' She beamed. ‘I know it looks like we've done a lot to a dog who needs to rest, but he just lay in the sun and we worked on him slowly.'

‘We?'

‘Hilda and Maudie.'

‘And Henrietta and Joe and…and Aggie?'

‘They came later, didn't you, guys?' She beamed round at all of them. ‘Hilda met Joe at the Co-op and told him what we were doing. She suggested a barbecue so Joe got it working. There were spiders. Big ones. Even Hilda and Maudie suggested we needed Joe. And look at Horse.'

He was looking at Horse. It was safer, he decided, to look at Horse rather than Nikki.

‘What do you think?'

Horse had draped himself back over his trampoline, three quarters on but a quarter out, as if he'd like to join in but he still needed the security of his own place.

The trampoline Henrietta had supplied was plain canvas, what a sensible dog needed, but someone—
someones
by the look of the people around him—had decreed plain wasn't enough. A soft green velveteen throw had been added. Also a couple of pillows that looked as if they were down-filled, soft and squishy. Two stuffed toys, a rabbit and a giraffe.

There was a sausage resting by Horse's nose, and a new red water bowl.

Horse looked bemused. As if he didn't have a clue what was happening to his life.

Like Gabe.

These people were barbecuing in his backyard.

Or…Nikki's backyard.

He'd strung a couple of wires on fencing posts when he'd first let the place, delineating boundaries, but until now no one had needed delineation. No one had been in the backyard.

He should have planted a hedge. Fast growing.

He still could.

Nikki was smiling up at him, standing, offering him a sausage, glowing, and he thought yep, hedge. Or back away fast. But…

‘Why is Aggie here?' he asked.

Maudie handed him a beer. Aggie passed him a bowl of pretzels.

‘Aggie's teaching me to make stone walls,' Nikki said and he almost dropped both.

Maybe his face froze. How did you control your face? He didn't know what he was showing but, whatever it was, it made Nikki's smile slip.

‘What is it?'

‘What are you playing at?'

‘Sorry?' She didn't have a clue what he was talking about. Or did she? She'd seen the books. She knew about his mother.

‘I taught his mother to make stone fences,' Aggie said sedately from her chair. The little old lady was wrinkled and
gnarled and unfussed, unmoving. Watching Gabe thoughtfully. Watching Nikki. ‘Best student I ever had. Last, too. After her, no one. No one wants to spend their days piecing little bits of stone together. Why would they?' Her voice grew sad, distant. ‘They're all falling down, my walls. The walls Gabe's mama helped me build. They're built to last for generations but people knock holes in them. They use the capping stones for wedging gates open, that sort of thing. They break 'em and don't know how to repair them. Can't believe you want to learn.'

‘You don't want to learn,' Gabe said flatly.

‘Why not?' Nikki demanded. ‘Why don't I?'

The question hung. They'd all turned to listen now, every one of them caught by the flat anger in Gabe's voice. He couldn't help it. Anger was just…there.

‘I don't want my wall finished,' he growled, knowing as he said it that it made no sense at all.

‘I know that,' Nikki said. ‘I even understand it. Sort of. But this is nothing to do with you, or your mum, or your wall. I'm sorry I borrowed your books without asking, but you have them back now and that's as far as my interference with you goes. I told Henrietta I was bored with what I was doing, that I needed a break while I thought about what I wanted to do. I told her I'd been playing…' She hesitated and then decided to be truthful. ‘I'd been playing with your stones. It feels good. I'd like to try it, as a hobby at least. I told Hen and she went to get Aggie, and Aggie says she'll teach me.'

‘I don't want you to.'

The flat denial didn't even sound like him. The words were from some gut level he couldn't begin to understand. And, of course, Nikki couldn't understand either.

‘It has nothing to do with you,' she retorted, sounding astounded. ‘I'm your tenant, Gabe. If I go out in the morning and learn how to make stone walls instead of sitting inside drawing plans, how can that be interfering with you? Or don't you
want anyone to learn stone walling ever again because of your mother?'

There was no answer to that. No answer at all. She was right; he was being stupid.

He'd seen stone wallers working since his mother died; of course he had. There were none working locally, but occasionally he'd see them by the roadside outside this area. He liked their quiet craft, was glad that stone walls were still being built.

It was just…Nikki. It was how she made him feel.

He should never have let her kiss him. He should never have kissed her.

He thought of Nikki, in the water where he knew sharks fed. Nikki, on the night she'd hit him, staring down at him with her eyes full of terror. Nikki, hugging this bedraggled, unloved dog, jumping into the water to save him, bringing this motley collection of people back to his house. To his home.

‘I have things to do,' he said curtly, knowing he was being a bore, not knowing what to do about it. Setting his beer and plate aside.

Horse whined.

‘You're going to cook your own dinner on your side of the wire?' Nikki demanded with a flash of anger.

He'd hurt her. He'd hurt them all.

But what Nikki did on her side of the fence was her business. He should have climbed straight out of the truck and gone inside, closing the door behind him. Instead…they were all looking at him. Judging him.

‘Our Gabe's a loner,' Hen said placatingly to Nikki, as if she was explaining the behaviour of a difficult dog. ‘This is his space.'

‘He's renting it to me,' Nikki said dangerously. ‘I pay for this side of the boundary wire. If he'd wanted me to stay inside with the door shut, he should have written a different tenancy agreement. Gabe, these people helped me this afternoon. They're my friends. They're Horse's friends. So we will keep
on with our barbecue. As I'll continue with learning how to make stone walls. This isn't about you, Gabe. This is my back lawn—my barbecue. You can accept my invitation to join us, in which case you'll be pleasant and not treat us as intruders, or you can head inside and keep your own company. Your choice.'

His choice. He made it.

He turned, stepped over the dividing fence and went inside.

 

She was shaking. Of all the boorish, rude, arrogant…

‘Don't mind him, dear,' Aggie said comfortably. ‘His dad brought him up hard and a leopard can't change his spots. Till his dad died, any kid who came here risked being horsewhipped and Gabe too, for inviting them. There's ghosts in that man's head and, like it or not, you've brought 'em out. Now, are you going to eat that sausage or not? Dry stone walling's not for sissies. If you're starting tomorrow you need to get your strength up. Don't mind Gabe; he's a good man at heart, even if he never let us close. You just stay on your side of the fence and let him be.'

 

Midnight. She'd gone to sleep and dreamed of sharks. And Gabe.

Horse was snoring under her bed. He grunted in his sleep and suddenly she was wide awake, staring at the ceiling.

Thinking of sharks—and Gabe.

She put her hand down and Horse nuzzled her palm. She liked it. Something warm and solid in the night.

Go back to sleep.

The sharks were still there. And Gabe.

She padded out to the kitchen, made a pot of tea, hesitated, made a cheese sandwich.

Horse padded after her. She grinned and made two.

She thought about going back to bed. Went out on the veranda instead.

The stars were hanging low over the night sky. The moonlight was glinting over the ocean.

Horse whined and nuzzled her underarm. They ate sandwiches together and watched the distant sea.

Horse settled his great head under her arm, on her knee. He sighed a great dog sigh, and she agreed entirely.

Too hard. Everything.

Gabe?

She should still be thinking about Jonathan, she thought. Was she doomed to forget one appalling man, only to focus on another?

Then Horse stiffened, whined and pulled away. Her hand instinctively grabbed his collar but Horse was swivelling back towards the house. The door opened—the porch door leading to Gabe's side.

Gabe.

 

He could have guessed she'd be out here. He'd heard the wuffling and thought maybe she'd let Horse outside without her. He was worried about fences. How high could Horse jump?

She had him safe. The big dog was straining towards him but she had him by the collar and she wasn't letting go.

She was wearing pyjamas. Cute pyjamas. Ivory silk with pink embroidery.

Her hair was a mass of tumbled curls. She looked…

Like a man should back into the house and close the door.

‘I'm out here,' she said. ‘You should back into the house and close the door. Or make me another entrance so you don't need to see me.'

‘Nikki…'

‘I'm sorry about your mother,' she said before he could get a word in. ‘I'm sorry she died and left you alone. And about your dad, who sounds like he was a bully and a pig. But you rented this place to me. If I'm going to feel like it's home, I can't spend my time figuring whether you're likely to come
through the door so you can avoid me. And,' she said, taking a breath, obviously gearing up to say something that took courage, ‘you were rude to my friends. You need to apologise. Joe's sausages and onions were great.'

‘Joe's not your friend,' he snapped before he could think about it. ‘He works for me.'

‘The two are mutually exclusive?'

‘I don't want you in my life.'

Why had he said that? He had no right. He had no need. It was harsh, hurtful, unnecessary. He saw her flinch, then stand and back away. To her door.

‘Gabe, what you're saying…it's nonsense.' She was starting to shake. ‘You've never asked me to be in your life. I've never suggested…'

‘You don't have to,' he said explosively. ‘You just are. You stand there, looking at me… You make me feel…'

‘How do I make you feel?'

‘I don't want it. I don't do relationships. I don't want to feel—anything.'

‘Then don't.'

‘You're saying you don't sense it, too? This thing between us?'

‘If I am, I'm keeping it under control a whole lot more than you are,' she said bluntly. ‘You think I'm about to launch myself at you and dig in my claws? Of all the insulting…'

‘I didn't say that.' He raked his hair. ‘It doesn't make sense. What I'm feeling.'

‘It doesn't,' she said, and somehow she managed to sound calm. ‘I'm not Lisbette, Gabe.'

‘I know that.'

‘And I'm not interested in another relationship,' she added and she thought… Was that a lie? Because the way she felt…

She didn't understand the way she felt. Gabe was voicing his confusion. Hers…she'd managed to keep it internal. Anger was a great help.

But…
This thing between us…

Gabe was right. It was there, tangible, real. It had to be ignored.

This big man was wounded, needy, wonderful. She wanted to reach out and touch him. Heal him. Heal herself in the process.

He didn't want it. She couldn't.

‘You want me to find somewhere else to live?'

What was wrong with him? Was he nuts?

The town thought he was nuts.

No. They thought he was a loner.

There was a fine line between loner and nuts, he decided, and the way Nikki was looking at him… He'd just stepped over it.

‘I'm sorry,' he said heavily. ‘I'm behaving like an oaf.'

‘You are.'

‘There's no need to agree!' He wasn't making sense, even to himself.

‘Yes, there is.' She sounded wary. But also…amazingly, she sounded amused. ‘You kissed me, but so what? The way you're acting… Why? There's no need to think I'm planning weddings, kids, holes from your side of the house to my side, mortgages, puppies and old age homes with rockers side by side.'