“Dylan, thank God.” Relief flooded him to see the boy moving. “My name’s Owen, I’ve come to find you.” He dropped down beside the boy. “Are you okay?”
“I hurt my arm.” The boy revealed a bloody gash above his right elbow, and when Owen ran his hand down the limb, the child jerked and sobbed.
“I’ve got him,” he yelled up to Theo. “I think he’s broken his arm, but otherwise he’s all right.” He smiled at Dylan. “Come on lad, we’re going to take you back to your mum and dad.”
The boy wiped his nose and looked along the bank. “I saw the dog fall down,” he said through shaky sobs. “It’s not moving.”
Owen followed his gaze farther along the ditch and saw Mozart’s motionless body.
Nausea rose inside him. It took every ounce of his self-control not to run down to his dog.
Instead, he turned back to the child. “Don’t worry about him. My friend Theo is up there, and I’m going to help you up the bank to him, okay?” He helped the child get to his feet and quickly checked him over. Amazingly, no more bones were broken. He was shivering from both the cold and shock, but at least he was alive.
Owen lifted him into his arms, and with Theo’s help, brought him as carefully as he could up the bank, trying not to touch the boy’s arm. Through the trees, he saw another couple of search groups running up to help. Theo had already dropped his backpack to the ground and retrieved his blanket which he now placed around the boy’s shoulders as he spoke to him in a low, comforting voice.
Only when he knew the boy was safe did Owen turn to the ditch and lower himself back down the bank.
Excited to find the boy, Mozart had leapt into the bush, unaware the ground had dipped sharply away. He’d tumbled down the bank and landed heavily at the bottom.
Owen could see immediately from the unusual twist to the dog’s body that he’d broken his back legs, and maybe even his pelvis.
“Shit.” He dropped to his knees beside the Lab. Horror filled him at the sight of the dog’s closed eyes. “Mozart, no.”
He couldn’t be dead. He just couldn’t. Owen curled his fingers in the Lab’s fur. If he lost both the girl he loved and his dog in the same week, life really wouldn’t be worth living.
Chapter Thirty-One
Skye paced across the car park and back again for the umpteenth time, lit by the lights of the police cars around them. She pulled the padded jacket close around her, shivering in the cool evening air. The sun had nearly set, and the area was flooded with deep red light that looked sickeningly like blood.
She’d spent a long time talking to Sue and Nick, asking them about their son and trying to distract them while they waited for news, but now they were waiting anxiously at the edge of the forest for the rescue party to arrive. Their faces said it all, though, filled with relief that their boy had been found, with tears of exhaustion and joy falling down their cheeks.
Skye was thrilled for them, and so proud of Owen and Mozart that she thought she might explode. But the exultant feelings were topped with a layer of fear following the news over the radio. Mozart had been injured, although it was too soon to tell how seriously.
It took another fifteen minutes before someone yelled the first sighting, and everyone ran over to see the Search and Rescue volunteers appear through the trees. One of them carried the boy, and as he approached, the parents ran up and took Dylan from his arms, sobbing with relief. The paramedics instantly closed around them and took him to the ambulance to check him over.
Skye smiled automatically to see them so happy, but within seconds her gaze searched the forest again, looking for Owen. He didn’t appear for another ten minutes, and when she glimpsed him trudging through the trees, she pressed a shaking hand to her mouth. He looked tired and forlorn. The guy with him was carrying his backpack. Owen had a blanket tied around his neck, and his arms were linked beneath the bundle. Mozart’s front legs stuck out from the top of the blanket like a couple of black twigs.
Everyone rushed over as they approached, but Skye hung back, suddenly hesitant as to her role. She saw Owen glance across at her, but then he turned away to talk to Sue and Nick. She watched Sue reach up and kiss his cheek, and Nick pump his hand, and then both of them looked down at the dog cradled in his arms, Sue pressing her fingers to her mouth in distress.
Owen talked briefly to the police officers, said goodbye to the volunteers, then walked over to her.
“Hi.” Her voice came out breathless and squeaky.
“Hey.” He tried to smile, but he could barely get his lips to curve.
“You found the boy.”
He nodded, took a deep breath, and blew it out. “He’s broken his arm, but at least he’s alive.”
She moved closer and looked down at the dog in the blanket. Mozart lay unmoving, and for a moment cold shot through her as she thought he’d passed away in his master’s arms, but when she touched a hand to his head, he stirred and turned to nuzzle her fingers.
“Oh, thank God,” she said, unable to stop the words leaving her lips.
“Yeah, I know, I have to keep checking to make sure he hasn’t…” Owen swallowed. “I need to get him to the vet in Kerikeri.”
“You want me to drive? You can sit in the back with him, then, and you can call the vet or whatever. You look so tired, Owen.”
He nodded. “Okay, that would be great. He’s really heavy, that’s all.”
Theo came over to put his backpack in the boot, and in the end it took him and Marty helping Owen to get Mozart settled in beside him on the back seat. At one point, Marty had to lift his back legs in, and the dog yelped and bared his teeth at them. Owen got choked up at that point, as the Lab had never shown a trace of violence before.
“He’s in pain, that’s all,” Skye said, taking over when she saw him fighting back the emotion. She tucked the blanket around the dog, suppressing her own tears at the sight of the man tenderly cradling the dog’s head. “He’s not feeling himself.”
She shut the car door carefully and turned to Theo and Marty, who both looked as distressed as Owen. “Thank you, guys, for helping. I’m sure Owen will ring you when he has some news.” She shook hands with them both. “Well done on finding Dylan.”
After getting in the car and closing the door, she started up the engine. It was an automatic, so it wasn’t difficult to work out the controls, and she headed out of the car park, doing her best to avoid the potholes. It wasn’t easy, in the dark, and she bit her lip every time the dog yelped.
“Which is the quickest way?” she asked Owen when she came to the main road.
“Right,” he said, “and then left over the bypass into town.”
“Yep, I know where you mean.”
She drove as quickly as she could without breaking the law, listening to him as he rang the vet’s after hours’ number.
“It’s Owen Hall,” he said, the hoarseness of his voice betraying his emotion. “Jim, it’s Mozart. We were out on a call in Puketi and he fell in a ditch. I think he’s broken both back legs, and maybe even his pelvis.”
Skye bit her lip, her vision blurring. Now was not the time to be girly and give in to tears.
“Yes,” he continued, answering questions. “No, not yet. He’s awake, but he’s in a lot of pain. Yeah, I’ll meet you there. About ten minutes. See you then.” He hung up and leaned back, looking down at the dog and stroking his head.
Skye glanced at him in the rear view mirror, her heart breaking at the sorrow on his face. He loved his dog so much. She didn’t think she’d be able to bear it if he lost him.
“So how did you find Dylan?” She kept her voice light. “Run me through it.”
He cleared his throat and started telling her how Mozart had picked up on the boy’s scent. When he came to the part where Mozart jumped ahead of him, Skye smoothly asked him if the boy had been pleased to see him, and then talked for a while about Dylan’s parents and how thrilled they’d been when the news came through, trying to make him see the
positive side to the events of the evening.
“I know what you’re doing,” he said when she eventually stopped talking. “And I appreciate it. Don’t think I’m not glad we found the boy. I would have stayed in the forest until we found him, for days if necessary, and it’s fantastic he’s back with his parents.”
He stroked the dog’s head. “I’m so pleased Mozart was the one who led us to him. But right now, I know it’s a terrible thing to say but I wish I hadn’t been on call tonight.”
“I think it’s a very normal thing to say, and completely understandable. I know you’re not wishing that little boy harm, Owen. Of course you wish you’d been off duty—why wouldn’t you? Your best friend has been hurt. But it’ll be okay.”
He said nothing, and she couldn’t blame him, because it was a platitude. She wasn’t a vet—she’d not even had a dog since she was young, and she had no idea whether Mozart would recover from his injuries. Dogs broke their legs all the time and went on to walk again, and even fractured pelvises healed. But only the vet would be able to tell them the extent of the trauma, and whether the Lab would be likely to recover.
They said nothing more as they approached the town center, and Owen directed her to the veterinary surgery. She parked right out the front, and as she turned off the engine, a tall man with gray hair wearing a black T-shirt and jeans came out to meet them.
“Hi,” Skye said, walking around to him, “you must be Jim. I’m Skye, Owen’s…friend.”
Jim didn’t bat an eye at the pause and smiled. “Nice to meet you.” He opened the car door. “Hey Owen. How’s it going?”
“He’s shaking, Jim.”
“He’s in shock, mate. Come on, let’s get him inside.”
Together, the two men managed to carry Mozart into the surgery and through to the treatment room. The place was quiet, empty of the usual squawking and yowling cats, dogs, and birds, and only a few lights were on.
A woman was waiting in the treatment room. She was also older, her dark hair threaded with gray, and Skye thought she might be Jim’s wife.
They lifted the dog onto the table, and Owen bent to kiss Mozart’s snout.
“Right,” Jim said, “I need you both to wait outside while I take some x-rays and check him out. Once we know what’s going on inside, we’ll have a better idea of what treatment to give him.”
“I’d rather stay,” Owen said.
“Nope, not while I’m x-raying. Skye, there’s a kettle in the kitchen if you’d like to make yourself both a cup of tea or coffee.”
“That would be lovely, thanks.” She took Owen’s hand. “Come on, honey. We’ll be back in a minute.”
She led Owen through the door to the room Jim indicated. It was obviously a private kitchen with a table and chairs and a bench for preparing lunch while they worked. She sat Owen at the table, filled the kettle, and switched it on. Then she came back and put her arms around him.
He rested his head against her stomach, his posture defeated and tired. He’d carried the Lab for miles across difficult terrain, she thought. No wonder he was exhausted. But he wouldn’t rest until he heard about his dog.
After kissing the top of his head, she left him to make two cups of tea, added plenty of sugar, brought them over to the table, and sat beside him. “Come on, drink a little.”
“I’m not thirsty.”
“Do as you’re told.”
He didn’t even react to her words, just picked up the tea and took a few swallows, and Skye did the same, finding comfort in the hot, sweet drink.
“He’s in the best place,” she said. “You did so well to get him back here.”
“I shouldn’t have let him run ahead,” he said hoarsely. “But he’d caught Dylan’s scent, and he was excited to find the boy.”
“He’s well trained, Owen, but he’s not a robot—he has a mind of his own. He might also have saved your life, and Theo’s—did you think of that? A few more steps going at a fast pace and you’d have fallen down there too.”
His eyebrows rose. “No, I didn’t consider that.”
“There you go.”
“I’d rather he hadn’t have saved my life and still be well.”
“I know. But he’s a Search and Rescue dog and, more importantly, he’s your dog. He would have put himself first to save you any day. That’s what he does, and to take that away from him would be to take away his whole purpose for being.”
“I suppose.” He looked over at her then, a tired smile on his face. “You’ve been so lovely, waiting for me, talking to me, trying to keep my spirits up. I’m glad you came with me.”
“So am I,” she said honestly. “I felt a strong urge to do so—I don’t know why.”
He reached out and took her hand. “Do you believe in Fate?”
“Yes, I think I do,” she said, surprised to find it true. “After Harry died, I lost my faith. I couldn’t believe that if there was a God he’d have taken my brother away like that. But I’m beginning to realize that over the past few years I’ve found a kind of peace in nature, and in people’s actions toward each other, and I’ve seen some people grow stronger after hardship, as if the lesson has been necessary for their future. It’s made me feel there’s a purpose to things we don’t know about—that there’s more to life than what we can see and hear. Watching Kole and Tasha declaring their love for one another today, for example—it was magical, and there was something otherworldly in that magic. Whether it’s God or Fate, I don’t know, but I don’t think there’s any harm in thinking of it like that. Does that make sense?”
He nodded slowly. “I think so. I felt our meeting was destined. That moment when I walked into the airport and saw you standing over by the window—I felt such a tug inside it was as if I’d been looking for you all along. That was why I came to find you after you ran away—I was certain we were meant to be together. It sounds stupid now.” He gave a harsh laugh and shook his head, turning his mug of tea with one hand. “Maybe it was all in my head. But I also feel that Mozart was destined to find that boy tonight, as if that was his purpose. He’d been given to me, and I’d had to train him, so that when Dylan went missing we were there to find him. And now he’s fulfilled his purpose, he’s not needed here anymore.”
A knot appeared at the corner of his jaw. He was obviously clenching his teeth to hold back his emotion.
Skye sipped her tea, her heart racing from his declaration that he felt they were meant to be. “Well, maybe. But if there was any kind of pre-destined purpose to anyone doing anything, it would seem to me that Mozart is nowhere near fulfilling his. If someone has put him here to rescue people, why would He or She take him away after such a success when he could easily go on to help so many others? It doesn’t make sense. So although it’s sometimes nice to think of a superior being guiding us, I like to believe we make our own Fate, and that Mozart’s life isn’t so worthless that it can be snatched away at someone else’s whim because they’ve decided he’s finished.”
Owen’s lips curved up, and he opened his mouth to respond, but at that moment Jim came into the kitchen, and they both stood to hear the verdict.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Owen’s heart thumped uncomfortably, and he fought against nausea as he prepared himself for Jim’s report. Skye’s hand slid into his, and he tightened his grip, suddenly so glad she was there. Jim was a matter-of-fact, no-nonsense Kiwi guy, and Owen knew he wouldn’t mince his words.
The gray-haired man leaned against the door frame. “The good news is there doesn’t appear to be any internal bleeding, so I don’t think any organs were injured. However, Mozart has broken both femurs, one tibia, and has fractured his pelvis. The hip joint looks okay, but unfortunately there are bone fragments blocking the pelvic inlet, and that’s not good, as it can cause problems with urinating.”
He took a big breath. “Mozart is going to need some surgery, and even if it is successful, it will mean a long recovery period. He’ll need to be confined to a small area fo
r at least four to six weeks and probably longer, and I might even have to keep him here with a urinary catheter for a while. Even if he doesn’t need one, he will need help and support in going to the bathroom for the foreseeable future, as well as with feeding and drinking.”
He looked at his shoes for a moment before lifting his gaze up again. “Mozart will be in a lot of pain, he’ll need a lot of attention, and although he may heal well enough to walk again, I doubt he’ll ever regain the fitness a working dog needs. I have to ask you, Owen, is this what you want?”
Owen clenched Skye’s hand so tight he worried he might crack a bone, but she didn’t say anything, just rested her other hand on his arm and rubbed it gently. He forced himself to take a breath and blow it out slowly, relaxing his grip. “What are you saying? Are you asking if I want him put down?”
“Yes. It might be kindest in the long run.”
Owen wanted to vomit. “No. Absolutely not.”
Jim ran a hand through his gray hair. “Helping a dog in this position to recover would be difficult for any pet owner, but this is your job we’re talking about, Owen. Nobody would think badly of you for making that decision.”
“No. No.” Owen shook his head. He couldn’t think how else to voice his objection—just that one word kept ringing in his ears. End Mozart’s life because he’d been unlucky enough to be injured? If there was even a small chance the Lab could live some semblance of a normal life, even if he never walked again, Owen couldn’t put him down just because the injury didn’t fit in with his plans.
Skye reached out and placed a hand on his chest. She didn’t look at him, but instead spoke to the vet. “I don’t think that’s an option.”
Jim nodded, his face full of pity. “I’m so sorry I had to ask, but I had to check. If you’re certain, then of course we’ll do everything we can to get him walking again.”
Skye spoke again, her voice light and hopeful. “Back in London, I saw a dog in a kind of wheelchair once—a frame with wheels that supported his back legs. Might that be an option for Mozart?”
A Festive Treat Page 23
