Falling Again for the Animal Whisperer

by Becky Wicks

  ‘You can both come,’ he told her, hoping she’d agree. ‘It’s almost Easter holidays. Emmie will be close to Saxon. Meanwhile, she can ride Blaze.’

  Jodie’s eyes lit up. ‘He’s ready to ride?’

  ‘For someone he trusts, like Emmie. Look, if you’re worried about security after what happened, don’t be. I had the place rigged up—’

  ‘I’m not. But I was going to tell you before this happened, I’ll press charges,’ she told him, clasping the front of his jacket and pulling him closer. ‘You were right, people like that need to be locked away.’

  Her back was against the stable wall. She was looking at him with fierce determination and suddenly all he wanted was her, for ever. ‘Do you know how much I love you? My protector?’

  He pressed his smile to her forehead and she laughed softly. ‘And I love you. We’ll look after each other, Cole, and Everleigh. That’s what Casper wanted.’

  ‘I think you’re probably right about that.’

  ‘And by the way, I spoke to Ethan about moving Emmie down to Dorset on a more permanent basis.’

  ‘Oh, yes?’

  ‘He likes the idea. But only if he can come riding sometimes.’ She grinned at the look on his face. ‘I think he was joking.’

  ‘Whatever makes you happy,’ he said, going in for another kiss. She put her hands up to his handsome face and realised that she’d never loved him quite as much as she did now, knowing he had finally made it to Edinburgh, not just for her but for Emmie.

  ‘You make me happy, Cole Crawford.’

  Eighteen months later

  The lighthouse loomed behind them as Cole steered the boat, and Jodie gripped the sides in anticipation. ‘Do you think they’re here today?’

  ‘They’ll show us if they are,’ Cole said, and she watched his profile in the loose blue shirt and blue baseball hat as he stopped the motor to reach for his camera.

  They weren’t here for the dolphins specifically on this sunny, warm, late September day. Toby had taken some great shots of the new Portland Bill Everleigh Suites from the land, but Cole was determined to take his own promo shots from the water.

  They had more staff than ever but he still liked to do as much as possible himself when it came to Everleigh, just like Casper had always done. As if he didn’t have enough on his plate, she thought in admiration.

  Jodie felt the little red boat bob beneath them as Cole positioned the camera on his lap. She pulled her cardigan tighter around her, and the shimmer of her wedding ring in the sun cast a rainbow reflection on the seat.

  She loved the way the different seasons brought such different opportunities for them in Dorset, from organic farming and nursing newborn lambs in spring, to inviting their guests to marshmallow singalongs round the fire pit in winter. Her veterinary duties had expanded in every way she could imagine now that Aileen had taken over at West Bow. Everleigh had never been so busy or exciting. She had a feeling it was about to get even better...once their baby arrived.

  ‘Did Emmie tell you, she and Toby are doing their next presentation together at school?’ she said to Cole, putting a hand to her swollen belly. ‘They’re sharing how they’ve been making all their own dog food from organic ingredients. It’s a pretty entrepreneurial business venture, don’t you think? Everleigh K9 Complete.’

  ‘I suppose they learned from the best,’ Cole said, with faux smugness. ‘I know Ziggy appreciated trying out all their samples.’

  Ziggy cocked his head up from the bottom of the boat at the sound of his name, and Jodie reached down to stroke his soft, warm fur. He’d been extra-protective of her since he’d sensed the baby growing inside her. ‘At least they’ll pay for their own college educations at this rate,’ she said.

  ‘As long as they don’t stick my face on the dog-food labels, I’m OK with it.’

  Cole saw her wrestling with her cardigan in the breeze and quickly reached for a blanket under the seat. ‘Are you cold?’

  She shook her head as he draped it across her shoulders and laid a hand on the small bump. He was even more protective of her than Ziggy was, and every now and then she’d catch him looking at her in wonder, like he couldn’t believe she was carrying life inside her—his own son. He was going to be the best father, she knew it would come naturally to him.

  Five months in and she was showing through her clothes—the mums at the school were already planning her baby shower. Cole dropped a light kiss on the bump over her stretched cotton T-shirt, and she ran her fingers contentedly through his hair as he went back to looking through his camera lens.

  The new Everleigh Suites looked like somewhere you wanted to be, she thought proudly. They’d had each block painted a different colour, casting a red, blue and yellow splash across the shore behind the boathouse and the paddocks.

  They were already all booked out for the rest of the year—most were guests with disabled or autistic children who were engaged in animal therapy with Cole. It hadn’t been Cole’s plan for the space initially, but after she’d fallen pregnant, the idea had struck her, and it had stuck for both of them.

  The first paying guests were due to arrive any day. They even had customised snorkels and wetsuits in the boat, and Jodie and Evie had personally arranged wine glasses and bedspreads featuring real prints of their rescue horses for the guesthouse bedrooms. The Blaze Boudoir was their best suite. He was the star horse of Everleigh after all, who only Emmie got to ride.

  Jodie was lost in a dream about teaching their son to ride when a movement in the corner of her eye made them both look up. She recognised the fin instantly.

  The mother of the dolphin calf they’d rescued was here.

  ‘She’s coming over,’ Cole said, putting a steady hand on her knee. Jodie was mesmerised. The baby dolphin was fully grown now, at least eight feet long. She watched in awe as the pair of them swam eagerly to the boat, then leapt right in front of the bow, making her gasp. ‘They haven’t come that close in a long time,’ she said, although she and Cole were always greeted like friends.

  She leaned over the edge, feeling Cole’s arm snake around her protectively. The baby dolphin was hovering at the side of the boat, its head above water, eyeing her with what she was sure was a smile. ‘You can tell she knows,’ Cole said, wrapping his arms around her more tightly.

  ‘Knows what?’ Jodie asked, as the creature beamed with intelligence and curiosity in the water below her.

  ‘That you’re pregnant,’ Cole said. ‘Did you know that dolphins can sense when women are pregnant? She’s excited by the heartbeats inside you.’

  Jodie turned to him in surprise as the dolphin let out a squeak and bobbed her head. Dolphins did that all the time but it looked like she was laughing. ‘Is that right?’ she said.

  Cole took the camera up again and positioned her with the dolphin just behind her. ‘Put your hands on your bump,’ he said, as he started clicking the shutter in her direction.

  Jodie laughed, self-conscious all of a sudden. ‘What are you doing?’ she said, just as the mother dolphin leapt into the air with the lighthouse behind her.

  ‘I think we need new photos for the wall,’ Cole said. ‘And this moment, right now, is absolutely perfect.’

  * * *

  If you enjoyed this story, check out these other great reads from Becky Wicks

  Enticed by Her Island Billionaire

  From Doctor to Daddy

  Tempted by Her Hot-Shot Doc

  All available now!

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  CHAPTER ONE

  ‘EASY? KEEP AN eye on Backpackers’ Express, I reckon we might have trouble.’

  Jet Carlson’s voice came through the radio, catching Ryder’s attention as he stood beside the lifeguard buggy. Jet was up in the circular lifeguard tower that overlooked Bondi Beach, keeping watch over the one-kilometre curve of white sand, issuing updates to the lifeguards on patrol. Ryder reached into the buggy and picked up his binoculars and scanned the beach, looking towards the troublesome rip to the south. He picked out a dark-haired man swimming alone where the first waves were breaking as the Pacific Ocean rolled into the shore.

  He picked up the walkie-talkie, certain he was looking at the same man Jet had spotted. ‘Copy that, Central, I see him,’ he responded.

  He stood by the buggy as he kept his eyes on the swimmer. The water to the man’s left was deceptively calm between two sets of rolling waves. Ryder knew the tide was turning and the calm water indicated a passage of water flowing out to sea. If the man got any closer, he’d be pulled out to sea with the tide.

  It was the danger period, after lunch on a hot Sunday. It wasn’t peak season yet; it was only the middle of spring and school hadn’t finished for the year but the beach was still busy. Holidaymakers, shift workers and backpackers all flocked to Bondi at any time of the year. The tide was going out and the notorious rip was going to cause grief. Most likely to an unsuspecting tourist.

  No matter how hard the lifeguards tried, it was impossible to get all the beachgoers to swim between the flags. Ryder knew it was sometimes because they didn’t understand English or the dangers or where to swim, at other times they just chose to ignore the lifeguards and the risks, thinking their swimming ability was better than it was or that the warnings were some kind of joke or scaremongering tactics and the treacherous conditions wouldn’t affect them. It didn’t help matters that the main access point to the beach was closest to the dangerous southern end.

  But no matter what the reason was for swimmers ending up in the wrong place, the lifeguards’ job was to look after them all. The drunk, the stubborn, the unlucky.

  Life was precious and Ryder felt a strong sense of responsibility and, at the end of the day, a strong sense of satisfaction in a job well done, whether that had been saving a life or just preventing a disaster. Not every day brought an emergency, although there was always some excitement, but a quiet day on the beach was preferable to one filled with drama.

  Either way he enjoyed the work. It was interesting and varied and he met people from all over the world and from all walks of life and he reckoned that would hold him in good stead for his future career as a psychologist. If he could cope with the Bondi beachgoers, he could cope with anything.

  He hadn’t worked at Bondi long. It had only been a couple of months since he’d been offered a position and had become one of several lifeguards employed by the local council to patrol the popular beach three hundred and sixty-five days of the year. It was a highly coveted job and usually went to qualified Sydneysiders who had grown up surfing the waves at the local beaches and had years of experience of the conditions.

  He’d had years of experience as a surfer and as a lifeguard at Cottesloe Beach in Western Australia but that was on the opposite side of the country, on the shores of the Indian Ocean. But the Pacific Ocean was familiar to him—he’d spent his childhood surfing the breaks at Byron Bay, on the coast north of Bondi. The ocean on Australia’s east coast had been home to him until one fateful day, just before his eighteenth birthday, when he’d been uprooted from everything that was special to him and moved thousands of kilometres away to the other side of the continent.

  Eventually he’d settled in his new home and when he’d arrived in Bondi, part way through his transcontinental road trip, he hadn’t planned on staying but he’d been offered a temporary position and it had been too good to refuse.

  He’d landed in Bondi at just the right time. Two lifeguards had sustained serious injuries that would keep them off the beach for several months over the busy summer period and the council had been desperate to employ qualified replacements. Ryder had fitted the bill and, fortunately for him, he also had a personal reference from his childhood friend, Jet Carlson, the lifeguard who was currently manning the tower and giving Ryder his instructions.

  He was happy with temporary. He knew he couldn’t stay for ever as he was needed back west, but for the moment this was good. Casual work would allow him to extend his break and make sure he was refreshed and energised when he went home.

  It was a perfect situation, he thought as he had a quick glance along the beach, trying to figure out if there was anyone else keeping an eye on the man he had under watch. Was anyone else aware of his position? In situations like this it could be helpful to speak to someone who knew the swimmer. It could help determine how competent they were in the water.

  But he didn’t really need confirmation, he’d bet his next pay cheque on the fact that this guy wasn’t a strong swimmer. He could see him pushing off the bottom, not wanting to get out of his depth, but the outgoing tide was already taking him further from the beach and the minute he got washed off the sandbar he’d be in deep water.

  As Ryder watched, a wave broke over the man’s head, submerging him. That second or two when he went under was long enough to make him lose his footing. As he surfaced, he was swept into the channel and away from the beach.

  He was in trouble.

  ‘Easy?’ Jet’s voice came through the radio, using Ryder’s nickname.

  ‘I’m on it.’ Ryder leapt out of the buggy, whipped off his distinctive blue lifeguard shirt, grabbed the rescue board from the rack on the side of the all-terrain vehicle and sprinted into the surf. He threw his board in front of him and dived onto it. He paddled strongly out past the small waves that were crashing onto the shore, past the swimmers who were oblivious to the drama unfolding a few metres off the beach, past the break.

  He scanned the sea as pulled his board through the water and caught a brief glimpse of the man’s head as it appeared behind a wave before he lost sight of him again. He dug deep, paddling harder, knowing time was of the essence. His shoulder muscles bunched and already he could feel the burn but he was used to that. He was breathing deeply, his lungs straining, and he could feel his heart racing but he wouldn’t stop. He was getting close now.

  He crested a small wave just in time to see the man go under again.

  Two more strokes.

  He reached over the side of the board, plunging his arm into the water up to his elbow. He scooped his arm through the water but came up empty. He could see the man’s dark hair. He leaned over further, plunging his whole arm into the ocean, the sea reaching to his armpit, and this time his fingers grabbed hold of the man’s head. He pulled him to the surface by a fistful of hair. He knew it would hurt but having your hair pulled was a small price to pay in exchange for your life.

  He dragged the man from the water, holding him by one arm. He wasn’t breathing. Ryder needed to get him securely onto the rescue board and back to shore. The man was of slight build and probably weighed no more than seventy kilograms. Ryder was six feet three inches tall, fit and strong, a muscular ninety kilograms with no excess weight, but even so he strained with the effort of pulling a dead weight out of the water.

  He grabbed his patient under his armpits and hauled him up, draping him across the board. He pulled his legs out of the ocean and waited to see if he would start breathing on his own.

  The man coughed twice, expelling sea water, and began breathing. Now Ryder just had to get him back to the beach.

  He got the man balanced, getting him to lie on his stomach in front of him. It was a long paddle back to shore and he didn’t want the board tipping. He didn’t want to lose his patient and have to go through the process of getting him out of the water a second time.

 
; * * *

  As Ryder brought his board onto the beach two dark-haired women hurried down to the water’s edge. His patient fell off the board into the shallow water as the rescue board hit the sand. Ryder grabbed his board with one hand and hooked his other hand under the man’s armpit, helping him to his feet. His legs were shaky, the small waves almost knocking him off balance, and Ryder kept hold of him, helping to keep him upright.

  ‘Thank you. Thank you.’ The man had recovered enough to speak but his English was heavily accented.

  ‘No worries,’ Ryder replied, even though it was a worry. Beachgoers needed to be aware of the dangers. He didn’t want to be rescuing the same man again today, something that had happened many times before.

  ‘Do you see those flags?’ he said as he pointed north along the beach. ‘Red and yellow? You must swim between the flags.’ He gave the warning, even though he doubted he would be understood, but he had a duty to explain the risks and to attempt to get them to follow the rules.

  ‘Yes, yes.’ The man and his friends all nodded but Ryder suspected none of them fully comprehended his caution.

  ‘Here—very dangerous,’ he emphasised as he waved his hand out to sea in the direction of the rip and tried one last time to stress the need to avoid this area, but he didn’t have time to repeat himself, or to give any other advice, before he heard Jet’s voice again from the radio in the buggy.

  ‘Easy? There’s another one in Backpackers’. I’m sending the jet-ski out but you’ll be faster.’

  Backpackers’ Rip hadn’t finished creating chaos yet and the day was going downhill fast.

  ‘No worries,’ he replied. ‘I’ve got it.’

  The Asian tourists were still thanking him as he picked up his board, turned and sprinted back into the water.