Nikki and the Lone Wolf (12 page)

‘Old age homes?' he said faintly.

‘That's how you're looking. Like a man faced with the whole domestic catastrophe. It was a barbecue. Eight people, including you, plus three dogs. On my side of the dividing line. You want to go out tomorrow and buy some twelve foot high screening?'

‘I said I was sorry.'

‘You still look like you expect me to jump you.'

‘I don't.'

‘It was just a kiss. I was scared. People do stupid things
when they're scared. I won't go swimming with sharks again and I won't go out on your boat.'

‘I won't ask you to.'

‘Aren't you the gentleman?' She hauled open the door to her side of the house. ‘I'm going back to bed. Do you have anything else to say? If so, say it now. I paid three months in advance. You want to give me notice to vacate? That'll be nine weeks where we need to coordinate using this porch so you won't have to look at me. And,' she said savagely, as if this was the final straw, ‘I won't even demand that you fix the pipes.'

‘The pipes?'

‘They still make noises.'

‘Talk to…'

Joe. I know. I have. Because there's no way I'd ask my landlord to take a personal interest. There's no way he would.'

‘There's no need…'

‘There's not, is there? Tell me in the morning whether you want me to vacate. Meanwhile, I'm going to bed. I'm taking my dog with me. I'll lock my door after me and stay on my side of the wall… Oh, and Gabe…'

He was way out of line. He was being an oaf and there didn't seem to be a thing he could do about it. Even Horse was clinging to Nikki's side, as if he knew who his friend was.

‘Yes?' He couldn't even find the words to apologise again. He was appalled at his own behaviour.

‘I
am
learning to make stone walls,' she said. ‘Aggie's teaching me, starting tomorrow. We're working on restoring a wall out the back of Black Mountain, so if the idea offends you you'd better steer clear.'

‘I'll be at sea tomorrow.'

‘Hooray,' she said. ‘You can head for the horizon and never think about us again. Come on, Horse, it looks like our peace in the moonlight is over.'

 

She walked inside with as much dignity as she could muster. Horse sidled in with her.

She stood with her back to the door and she shook.

Horse was shaking, too.

She was scaring the baby.

With something between a sob and a laugh, she knelt and hugged the big dog. He licked her face.

Ugh. It was as close as a girl could come to having a shower. A warm shower.

The urge to sob subsided. She sank so she was sitting on the floor with Horse draped over her.

They both stopped shaking.

She'd managed to make her escape with dignity, but it had been a near thing.

‘He's just a bore,' she told Horse. ‘He's a guy who's been brought up with no manners. A woman-hating, dog-fearing hermit.'

His crew liked him. Joe liked him. The town made excuses for him and they wouldn't do that if he wasn't a good man at heart.

Was it just her?

Was he reacting that way because she'd kissed him?

‘I can't take it back,' she told Horse. ‘I don't even want to.'

Drat him—he had her thoroughly confused. And Nikki was a girl who didn't like being confused.

‘I'm straightening my hair again tomorrow,' she told Horse, but he didn't seem impressed. She wasn't sure if she was either.

‘But I
am
going to learn dry stone walling. It'll be a great job for a dog to come along and help. You want to do that?'

She got another lick for her pains. Grinned. Pushed herself to her feet and headed back to bed.

‘Coming?'

Horse looked at her. Looked at the door. Whined.

Was he wanting the beach? Or Gabe?

Gabe or beach?

‘Neither,' she said, tugging Horse to her bedroom with her. ‘If it's your low-life owner, get over it, your future's with me. And if it's Gabe…exactly the same.'

 

He felt about two inches high. Justifiably. What had she done to deserve the lambasting he'd given her?

She'd borrowed his books? She was trying to learn how to make a stone wall?

She'd twisted his heart.

There was the problem. Heart-twisting. It made him feel as if he was wide open, vulnerable to a woman. Vulnerable to Nikki.

He'd been nuts to ever rent the apartment out.

But if he'd met Nikki any other way he'd have felt the same, he thought. It wasn't that she was living next door. It wasn't that she was dragging him into her life. It was just that she was… Nikki.

A man'd be mad not to want her.

He wanted her.

It was a hunger so fierce it made him feel his world was no longer stable.

He'd get it stable again, he thought. Maybe he already had. Even if he was to let weakness prevail, after tonight he'd burned his bridges. The way she'd looked at him…

He deserved nothing less.

Maybe it was just as well.

The fleet would be in at dawn. He'd help sort the catch and he'd be out again. Deep sea fishing, he decided. Out for four or five days.

He could rotate the crews so he could be out for weeks.

Great.

Or not great.

Nikki was just through the door. He'd hurt her.

So knock and apologise?

He'd already done that. Not one of his finest moments.

He had to do something. He couldn't just leave.

That was exactly what he intended.

 

She heard his alarm through the wall. Five a.m.

Horse whined and hauled himself up beside her. Her bed was ridiculously small. What sort of masochistic streak had made her buy a single bed? No matter, she wasn't pushing her new pet off.

‘Gabe's going fishing,' she told him. ‘It's just as well. He's…unsettling.'

Unsettling or not, when she heard his truck disappear she felt…she felt…

Like she had when Jonathan left—but worse.

She hadn't needed Jonathan.

She didn't need Gabe.

Liar.

How can you need him? she demanded of herself. You don't know him.

But she did. It was like…meeting a part of her that had been missing.

They were alike, she thought. Hers had been a barren childhood. Gabe's had been worse but something in him resonated with her, touched her at a level she couldn't begin to explain.

Nonsense. Sentimental garbage.

But then she heard his truck return. Footsteps. A heavy thump on the porch. Her heart twisted.

Nonsense or not, if he knocked…

He didn't. Receding footsteps. The truck's engine restarting. He was gone again.

Horse headed for the door, barking, sounding excited. She hopped out of bed and opened the door with caution.

An ice tub was on her back step.

Crayfish, prawns, mud-crabs, oysters, mussels were ar
ranged to perfection on a massive tub of ice. A bottle of champagne was wedged on the side.

She recognised the champagne label and gasped. Even Jonathan would have been impressed.

A note:

The ice tub was lavish. She should be touched by such a gift. She should at least smile at his note.

Instead? Desolation.

Expensive food. Champagne. Things.

Jonathan used to give her gifts when he left her.

She wouldn't waste this. She'd share, and not just with Horse. She had friends now.

But she wouldn't share with Gabe. Gabe, who couldn't apologise in person.

Did she care?

‘I'm a woman of independent means,' she said out loud to the world in general, but she didn't know what she meant. Independence…

Horse nuzzled her leg.

She wasn't independent at all. Luckily, she had Horse, and he was a dog she could lean on.

‘Want an oyster?' she asked. ‘Because I don't.'

A
GIRL
had to have a passion. If it couldn't be Gabe—and it couldn't—then the next best thing was stone walling, and at least there her passion was uncomplicated.

Quite simply, walling felt as if a lost piece of her had been reinstated. Sitting on the edge of a paddock, dirty, sometimes damp—Aggie paused for rain but not for showers—watching her wall grow, stone by stone, Nikki felt as if she'd found her home.

Aggie was a fine teacher, happy with nothing less than perfection. Her walls were built to withstand livestock, age and weather. Knowing she had a teacher who could give her those skills was a source of satisfaction Nikki couldn't begin to explain.

Aggie was content as well. ‘If you knew how much it hurts to see walls I've built be damaged and no longer be fit enough to fix 'em… If you really love this, girl, it'd be my pleasure to teach you. And don't fret about an income. Farmers love these walls. They get the stones out of their paddocks, they get walls that'll last for a hundred years and they look great. It's win win. They even get grants for repair—they're heritage, you know. We can charge almost what we want to fix 'em and build more. If you're serious…'

There was no doubting she was serious. She worked and worked, and every minute she loved it more. Horse lay beside her as she worked. Dog paradise. Two weeks into lessons a
rabbit stuck its nose from behind the fence. She'd tied Horse to Aggie's chair—even though they weren't in sight of the sea, she was taking no chances. But, ‘Let him off,' Aggie said as Horse nearly went crazy on the end of his lead.

‘Really?'

‘Really.'

So she did and Horse spent the afternoon chasing rabbits, more rabbits and more rabbits still. He never came close to catching one, but every time one escaped he zoomed back to her, almost as if he needed to tell her about it. His big body practically vibrated with exhilaration.

She took him home that night as filthy and as happy as she was. She had a rabbit-chasing dog. She wanted to tell Gabe.

Gabe wasn't home. Again.

She'd barely seen him. He came home only to replenish supplies and leave again. Solitude was his life since his father had died; since the woman called Lisbette had screwed him for everything he had. She understood—but it still felt bad when she turned into the driveway and Gabe's truck wasn't there; when she flicked open the curtains before she went to bed and there was no light in his window.

She was being dumb. Needy. Adolescent, even. She shouldn't be twitching the curtain to see if he was at home. She shouldn't care.

She didn't.

What a lie.

 

He'd spent so long at sea he was starting to see fish in his dreams.

He loved his work. He took pride in his fleet, in the men and women who worked for him, in their skills and endurance. He also loved Banksia Bay. After Lisbette he'd left, swearing never to return, but he'd left his house, his boat, the two things he'd salvaged from Lisbette's financial raid. So maybe he'd never intended to let it go completely, and when the fleet was in trouble he'd been glad to come home.

The sea was the same.

But, in truth, the last few years had even seen him tire of the endless sea. As Jem had aged he'd spent more time on land, reading in front of the fire, taking the old dog for gentle walks around the cliffs, cooking. Settling.

When Jem had died he'd headed back to sea. It was the only place he knew how to…be.

A man knew where he was at sea. Especially if the work was hard.

So now he moved from crew to crew, ostensibly to spend time with each of his skippers, to work through problems with each of the boats, but in reality it was because when he was on board the crew worked harder, and he could work to match.

If he worked, then he slept. Mostly.

He couldn't stay at sea for ever.

How long until she grew tired of playing with stones and took herself back to Sydney?

How long before a man could put her out of his head?

 

She finished the tail ends of her contracted work—the last part of her life as an engineer. She needed to make one last trip to Sydney and that part of her life would be over. She could make it a day trip.

She didn't want to leave Horse with Henrietta. Even though Hen was lovely and her boarding kennels were great, Horse still shook when he saw her.

She'd like to leave him with Gabe.

Fat chance. Gabe was never at home.

‘Leave him with me,' Aggie said diffidently. ‘My cat won't like it but it's time he had a spot of excitement. And you needn't worry. The walls around my place would keep a herd of elephants in.'

So she left Horse with Aggie and drove to Sydney. She'd checked Jonathan wouldn't be in the office. She left her final work on his desk—and her letter of resignation.

She walked out feeling not one shred of regret.

She wanted to ring Gabe and tell him.

How dumb was that?

Instead, she headed to a specialist work-wear firm. She bought heavy duty overalls, leather gloves, sturdy boots, goggles and a bright yellow jacket so she could be seen if she was working by the roadside.

Bright yellow, like Gabe's sou'wester used to be before he wore it in.

Gabe.

Her thoughts shouldn't always turn to Gabe.

They just did.

There was nothing left to do in Sydney. She'd left at dawn, thinking she might need to spend time in the office, but her former colleagues were cool. She'd dumped more work on them. There was no suggestion of socialising. The work gear had taken all of half an hour to buy so she was back in Banksia Bay by three. At Aggie's, Horse greeted her with joy.

‘He's been sitting by the door all day, pining for you,' Aggie said. ‘I've been fearful to let him out. I had to let him chase the cat to cheer him up. Mind, that might be the last time I can take care of him—if you bring him back, my poor old cat might leave home for ever.'

Nikki grinned. She hugged her dog and loaded him back into her car, resolving to buy Aggie's cat some gourmet cat food. Thinking she wouldn't need to leave Horse again anyway. Who needed Sydney? What more could a woman want than what she had right now?

Gabe.

Stupid or not, she wanted Gabe.

And he was at home.

Aggie's normal working day was nine to five. It was barely four when Nikki turned into the drive and Gabe was on the veranda. She could tell by his face that he hadn't been expecting her.

Her heart…quivered?

This was nuts. She was behaving like a moonstruck adolescent. The tension between them was a construct that could and should be eliminated. Now.

‘Hi,' she said, pretending cheeriness. Horse, however, didn't need to pretend. He headed up to the veranda, leaped to place his huge paws on Gabe's shoulders and Gabe only just managed not to fall.

Adolescent or not, she wouldn't mind putting her arms there either. Holding.

Stupid. She was a mature woman approaching her landlord. Her rude, hermit-of-a-landlord who wanted nothing to do with her. Or her dog.

He was hugging her dog.

She turned her back on the pair of them and started hauling stuff from the car. Carrier bags labelled ‘Grey's Industrial Work Gear'. Cool stuff.

She lugged her bags up the porch steps. Gabe—and Horse—stood aside to let her pass.

‘Work gear?' Gabe queried, and she flashed him a suspicious look. The way he'd said it…

‘Get over it,' she said. ‘You don't have a monopoly on wearing overalls.'

‘You've bought overalls?'

‘Four pairs. Serious stuff.'

‘Aggie's still teaching you, then?'

‘I imagine you've heard. Five days a week. I went back to Sydney today to drop final plans off and to resign. Then I went and bought overalls.'

‘You've resigned?'

She sighed. ‘Yes.'

‘You can't be serious.'

‘What on earth does it have to do with you?' she demanded. ‘Just because your mother made stone walls, is that a reason no one else can?'

‘Only you.'

Only you.
The two words hung. She didn't know what they meant, but she did know they were important.

‘What is it about me,' she said at last, ‘that makes you think I can't be a stone waller?'
That makes you think I'm threatening?

‘Nothing.'

Horse had sunk to all fours and was nosing Nikki's packages. They were interesting. They were tools for her new life.

She was not going to let this man interfere with it.

Get it onto a normal plane, she told himself. Forget about…
this thing between us.
Move on.

‘Come and see what we're doing,' she heard herself say, surprising herself by the dispassionate tone she managed. ‘We're working behind Black Mountain on Eaglehawk Road. We'll be there tomorrow from about nine.'

‘I'll be back at sea tomorrow.'

‘Only if you want to be. You're the owner of the fleet. You can decide.'

‘I can't make money unless I go to sea.'

‘Maybe you have enough money,' she said gently. ‘That's what I've decided. I've been doing a job that fills my head and my bank account, but not my heart. Horse and I are moving on.'

‘I give you three months tops before you're bored.'

‘How long did your mother build for?' she asked—and then regretted it. The look on his face…

He had demons, this man, and she didn't want to make them worse.

‘You don't need to answer,' she said, softening. ‘I had no right to ask. Don't come and see what Aggie and I are doing— I'm sure you're not interested and if it reminds you of things you'd rather forget then it's not worth the pain. Let me pass now, Gabe. I'll see you next time you're on shore.'

He stared at her for a long moment. His face was blank and still.

He wanted to say something, she thought, but he didn't know what. Or he didn't know how.

He was a big, silent man with demons. She wanted, quite suddenly, quite desperately, to hold him. Just hold him until the demons disappeared.

This wasn't an adolescent crush, she thought. There really was some intangible link…

‘Gabe…'

‘I'm holding you up,' he said and moved aside so there was no danger of her brushing against him. ‘You have things to do.'

‘Unpacking,' she managed, trying to sound cheerful. Trying to sound unconcerned. ‘I've been shoe shopping. I have steel capped boots. They'll be eating their hearts out on the Paris catwalks.'

He smiled but only just, and the smile didn't reach his eyes. ‘Sensible,' he said gruffly.

‘That's me. Sensible.'

‘Can you get your job back when you…?'

‘I don't want my job back!' Enough of cheerful. Enough of sympathy. She practically yelled the words. Glared.

‘Happy stone walling, then,' he said grimly.

‘Thank you.'

There was nothing else to say. She walked straight by him. Horse cast him a doubtful glance and then followed his new mistress home.

 

Why couldn't she get Gabe out of her head? Why was he messing with her equilibrium? Why?

He was damaged goods. He made no effort to be friendly. He didn't want anyone close.

She was forging her own life. She was making friends. She could live happily ever after.

She could buy her own little house, she decided, with a big backyard for Horse. Then she wouldn't have to see Gabe ex
cept in occasional passing, one resident of Banksia Bay to another.

She had enough money for a decent deposit. She could start searching straight away—before she annoyed Gabe so much he evicted her.

She should be proactive in her dealings with men.

In her dealings with Gabe.

That was sensible.

But there was a part of her that was refusing to be sensible. Even if Gabe didn't make her feel…like she did…she kind of liked living next door to him.

‘It's safety. It's because he's the size of an oak,' she muttered to Horse, but she knew it was much, much more.

She stalked into the kitchen, put on the kettle, picked up one of her pretty china cups.

Looked at it with care.

‘That's what Gabe thinks I am,' she told Horse. ‘Tomorrow I'm buying mugs. Can you buy industrial strength mugs as well? And I'm changing into my new stone walling gear now.'

 

She'd invited him to see what she and Aggie were working on. Wanting to go was irrational, but he couldn't stop thinking of it.

It was as if there were chisels wedging themselves under the armour he'd spent thirty years building.

Why?

She was his tenant. She was learning to do dry stone walling with Aggie. Both of those things were unthreatening; neither should pierce his armour.

They did.

He had to get used to it. The new normality was that Nikki was his neighbour, his tenant, the local stone wall builder.

He would go and see one of her walls, he decided. He could behave rationally, it was simply that he hadn't until now.

The forecast for the next few days was for bad weather. He knew the crew would prefer to stay in—he'd been working
them all too hard. The grass around the house needed mowing. He'd do that tomorrow—and then in the afternoon he'd casually drive around the back of Black Mountain and see where Aggie was working.

Both Aggie and Nikki.

 

The day was warm and blustery. ‘We'll be in for a storm tonight,' Aggie said, settling down with her folding chair and her Thermos. The old lady was supremely content. Her body was failing her, she could no longer handle the stones, but she could watch Nikki with a gimlet eye, ordering Nikki's hands to do what Aggie's longed to.

In Aggie, Nikki had found a world-class stone waller, and a world-class teacher. She realised that as she worked, as Aggie's eyes found the perfect stone in seconds while Nikki would have searched an hour, as Aggie decreed a fit Nikki thought perfect was appalling— ‘It'll blow a gale through the cracks; take it out and start again.'