You're the One (25 page)

Bending down
to get the little display hangers from the box, she straightened
abruptly at the yelp of a dog. Peering through the open door, she
spotted Brand Dawson’s ute parked just outside. He was trying to
manhandle a big dog onto the back. Its tail was tucked between its
legs.

Biting her
lip, Del watched.

The dog tried
to jump up, missed and staggered.

“Bloody
useless cretin.” Brand gave it shove with his boot.

The dog
whined.

“What the
hell, man?” a new voice queried. “No need to do that.”

Del paused as
Farris, one of the younger local farmhands, appeared.

Bending down,
Farris held his hand out to the dog. “C’mon, fella. It’s all
right.”

Brand shoved
him aside. “My dog, areshole. Piss off.” As if to emphasize the
point, he aimed another kick at the dog. “Get here, mutt.”

Scowling,
Farris shifted in front of the dog. “Look, just settle down, all
right?”

“Problem?”
Pierce appeared.

“Yeah,” Brand
replied. “Farris doesn’t know how to mind his own business.”

“Maybe we
ought to teach him one, then.”

“Maybe all
three of us should.” Cutter moved up behind Farris.

Crap on a
stick. No way could she stand and watch. Shoving open the back
door, she stepped outside. “Three against one? Not exactly what I’d
call even odds.”

Pierce scowled
at her. “Place is just full of nosey parkers.”

“You’re right
outside my back door, so that makes it my business.”

Farris held up
a hand. “Del, go back inside. I’m fine.”

Hands on hips,
Brand looked her up and down. “I think you’re wanting a piece of a
real man, darlin’.”

“I told you
before, you abuse an animal and I’ll make it my business.”

“I’d like to
see you try.”

“How about I
just ring the RSPCA?”

“Getting your
boyfriend to do your dirty work?” Brand sneered.

“Your dog was
in my yard again last night. I told you to keep him controlled or
I’d call the rangers.”

Cutter moved
closer, his gaze roving over her. “Seems to me you threaten a lot
of things, Del, but I don’t see you carrying it out.”

“You want to
see me carry it out, Cutter? Watch my finger dial in a minute.”

His eyes
gleamed coldly. “Might want to rethink that.”

“Oh really?
Then maybe you want to rethink having cars and dogs around at all
hours of the night. What are you doing over at Pierce’s anyway? I
heard you last night.”

Those cold
eyes narrowed. “Did you just?”

“Yeah, I did.”
She looked at Pierce. “I don’t know what shit you’re into, Pierce,
but-”

He started
forward furiously. “You need a lesson in manners.”

Farris thrust
himself in front of her. “Back off!”

“Hey!” Dee’s
voice cut through the tension. “What the hell, man? You threatening
my cousin and friend?”

Cutter’s
expression was distinctly unfriendly. “This isn’t your business,
Miller.”

“Now its three
against three.” Dee ranged up alongside Farris. “That evens the
odds a little.”

“For God’s
sake,” Farris growled. “Will you women go inside?”

“And leave
this to the men.” Ian from the furniture shop came up on Farris’s
other side.

“Nosey
bastards get their beaks broken.” Brand glared at the grey-haired,
lanky furniture shop owner.

“Real men
don’t beat up on women.” Ian’s gaze dropped to the shivering dog.
“Or animals.”

Del looked at
the dog as it limped behind Brand. It didn’t know which way to go,
obviously scared of its master and equally as scared to leave him.
A dog remained loyal even when the owner mistreated it. Damn it.
Shame the dog didn’t just bite his bloody leg off. She’d cheer it
on.

As she looked
closer, she saw the partially healed cut on the hind leg. A jagged
tear carelessly attended to, it didn’t look good. “Has he been to a
vet, Brand?”

“Doesn’t need
a vet.”

“It’s not
healing well.”

His nostrils
flared, fury on his face. “I’m warning you, Miller.”

Farris frowned
at the dog. “He looks like he’s been fighting.”

“I’ve heard
dogs snarling at your place, Pierce.” Del grimaced. “Have they been
fighting?”

Pierce
flushed, started forward, but Cutter grabbed his arm. “Hold
up.”

“Goddamn,
nosey bitch-”

“Watch who
you’re calling names.” Farris started forward, fully intending to
meet him head-on.

Not wanting it
to escalate into a full-on fight, Del grabbed Farris’s arm, quickly
placing herself in front of him.

“Out of the
way, Del.” Angry, Farris tried to side-step her. “I’ll take care of
this coward.”

“He’s not
worth it.” She glanced at Dee.

Her cousin
stood there, calmly thumbing in a number on her mobile phone.
“Think it might be time to call in reinforcements.”

Cutter dragged
Pierce back. “Get the bloody dog and go.”

Pierce turned,
grabbed for the dog. It ducked and whined.

Shit
.
No way did Del want to see the poor thing go with the men, she was
certain it was going to pay for drawing attention to itself. “That
dog needs a vet.”

Before Brand
could reply, Cutter glared at him. “Go.”

“Seeing you as
you hate that dog so much,” Ian said suddenly, “why don’t you just
leave it here?”

Brand sneered.
“What? You gonna pay for medical costs and shit?”

“Yeah, I just
might.” Jaw stuck out, Ian glared at him. “Someone should look
after the poor little bastard.”

Dee raised the
mobile to her ear. “Hi, Dee Miller here. Yeah. Listen, we kind of
have a situa-”

In a
lightening move, Cutter grabbed the mobile from her hand.

Farris grabbed
Dee, which just showed how well he knew her, because Dee was aiming
for her phone back. “Give that back, you horse-faced shithead!” She
lunged forward.

Swearing,
Farris hauled her back. “Damn it, Dee! Stop!”

The dog
whined.

This was not
going well but Del stood her ground, keeping her gaze on the
men.

Brand’s
expression grew ugly. “Always knew you Millers’ were trouble. You
really need a lesson.”

Ian stepped
forward, one arm out in front of Del. “Enough with the threats.
Just bloody go, and you can leave the dog here.”

“Oh yeah?”
Brand’s expression grew uglier. “Or what?”

“Or I’ll ring
the RSPCA myself.”

“That’s dog
stealing. I could have you charged.”

Cutter
growled. “Brand-”

Quick as a
flash, Del lunged forward, grabbed the mobile from his hand and
started thumbing in the cop shop number. When Cutter started
forward, she looked up and hissed, “You touch me, you touch this
phone, and I’ll have you up for assault. You hear me?”

Furious,
Cutter stopped.

“I’ll get it,”
Pierce growled.

“Don’t be
bloody stupid.” Cutter glared at her. “Stop.”

Del’s thumb
hovered over the ‘talk’ button. “Are you three going or am I
pressing this button, then pressing charges?”

For several
seconds it was a stand-off. For the first time Del became aware of
her pounding heart. The three men were furious, Pierce and Brand
openly so, Cutter with a more quiet, deadly fury. This could not
end well if they decided to turn violent.

But she wasn’t
leaving her friends or cousin. Wasn’t going to give ground, not
when it came to her beliefs and morals. If that meant she might get
roughed up, well, so be it. She’d cry about it later when no one
could see her - except Dee, because Dee was, well, Dee, and would
no doubt be in the same predicament.

Chin up, heart
pounding, hand fisting over the mobile, she waited.

There came the
distant sound of a police siren.

Cursing,
Cutter swung back to the ute. “Get in the car.”

Brand reached
for the dog, which shook and whined, crawling on its belly towards
him.

“Not the dog,”
Ian said sharply.

“It’s my-”
Brand began heatedly.

“Leave it,”
Cutter barked out.

“Leave it?”
Astonished, Brand whirled around.

“It’s useless,
you know that.” Cutter started the engine. “Now get in or you’re on
your own. And I swear to God, you say anything…”

Pierce didn’t
hesitate, jumping into the front seat and sliding along, leaving
room for Brand.

Brand
hesitated.

The dog whined
again.

Ian stared
Brand down.

The ute
started moving.

Swearing,
Brand ran for the ute, getting in. Looking out the window as he
slammed the door, he yelled, “That bloody mutt is yours, Ian, and
good riddance! You keep it, you control it, and you pay for it! I
ever see it near my place I’ll shoot it! You hear? And you-” He
pointed at Del but his words were lost as the ute lurched forward,
tyres digging in the blue metal.

As the police
siren grew louder from the street, the ute swung out onto the
opposite side street, fish-tailed, righted itself and drove
off.

The small
group looked at each other.

Farris
scowled. “Scum.”

Shaking his
head, Ian looked at the dog staring after the ute. It took a limp
forward, bewildered at being left behind. When it started to limp
after the ute, Ian called to it.

It didn’t know
what to do, looking in the direction the ute had disappeared to Ian
and back again.

Voices sounded
in the shop behind them, Phil and Maggie, two of the local cops,
spilling out the back door of the newsagency.

Whining, the
dog dropped to its belly.

Ian carefully
approached it, talking softly.

Heart still
pounding a little, Del handed the mobile to Dee. “Here.”

“Hells bells,
I’ll need to buy a new one.”

“Why?”

“Can’t
fumigate it after that moron had his hands on it.”

“Yep, throw
it.”

“What’s going
on?” Phil demanded. “We got some kind of half-arsed phone call that
got cut off.”

“Is
‘half-arsed’ the technical term?” Dee asked.

Arms folded,
Del grinned, relaxing a little.

“It came from
you.” Ignoring her comment, Phil looked at the small group. “What’s
going on?”

Ian stroked
the cringing dog’s head. “A little disagreement over this
pooch.”

Phil and
Maggie looked at the dog.

“The dog?”
Maggie queried. “You’re disagreeing over a dog?”

“Not us,” Del
said. “We had the disagreement with Pierce Harding, Brand Dawson
and Cutter.”

Phil and
Maggie exchanged glances.

“Where are
they now?” Maggie asked.

“Took off when
they heard you coming.” Ian scratched the dog gently behind its
ears. “Typical cowards.”

“Which
direction?” Phil was already thumbing the radio on his
shoulder.

“That way.”
Dee pointed. “Follow the skid marks, you can’t miss them.”

Turning
around, Phil walked a short distance away, talking quietly into the
radio.

“Pierce was
mistreating the dog.” Hands in the pockets of his work jeans,
Farris scowled. “I had something to say about it, he didn’t like
it.”

“Did anyone
get hit?’ Maggie asked.

“Nah. Lot of
posturing, lot of threats, but nothing else.”

Phil’s gaze
swept over the rest of them. “And you’re all here because…?”

“Back-up,” Del
said immediately.

Farris frowned
at her. “You shouldn’t have come out of the shop, Del.”

“Hey, I wasn’t
going to watch both a dog and a friend get hurt.”

“And I’d never
have forgiven myself if you’d got hurt.”

“Neither of us
got hurt.”

Farris
switched his gaze to Dee. “You shouldn’t have come out,
either.”

“Damn fool
women.” Ian straightened, the dog belly crawling to lay at his
feet. “But they’re Millers’, so what can you expect? Hard-headed
and opinionated.”

“Gosh,
thanks,” Dee said.

“Ryder will
ream you a new one when he hears.”

“Ryder can
kiss my fat arse,” was her standard reply.

Ian glanced at
Del. “Don’t know what you’re grinning for, you have Moz to
face.”

“He’s not my
boss.”

Farris looked
at Ian. “Thanks for coming out to help, man. That was decent of
you.”

“Like the
girls said, I wasn’t going to see a friend hurt.” His gaze dropped
to the dog. “Or an animal.”

“Squabble
later.” Maggie had a pen and notepad in her hands. “What about
these threats?”

Farris
shrugged. “Brand threatened to shoot the dog if he saw him near his
property.”

“Arsehole,”
Del muttered.

“Brand happen
to mention if he had anymore dogs?” Maggie waited, pen poised.

Farris
scratched his head. “Not that I can remember.”

“Anything at
all about dogs?”

Del looked at
her curiously, but before she could ask anything Phil was back. The
next few minutes was spent relating what had happened and then Phil
and Maggie left to find the three men and have a word to them.

“Guess they
won’t be charged.” Dee scowled.

“For what?”
Farris shoved a hand through his hair. “They didn’t hit us, we
didn’t get into an actual fight.”

“Pierce aimed
a kick at the dog,” Dee pointed out.

“He’ll just
get a warning, maybe a visit from Moz.” Farris stroked his jaw with
a small grin. “Mind you, getting a visit from Moz would make most
men shit their pants.”

Oh crap. Moz
would not be happy to know that she had been involved in this,
either.

To divert
herself from that sudden unsettling train of thought, Del looked at
the dog. “What are you going to do with him, Ian?”

“Take him to
the vet.”

“You’re
keeping him?”

“Hey, you
heard Brand, he’s mine.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, he
really said that.”