Their Baby Bargain

by Marion Lennox

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THE howling could be heard in the next continent. It went on and on, an awful, dismal, baying loneliness, filling the house, ringing out toward the sea, dreadful and searing in its intensity.

  Luke, who was sleeping right beside it, woke as if he’d been shot.

  Wendy, who was dozing fitfully, stirred and winced and reached automatically into the cradle beside her bed, in a swift gesture of comfort for the baby. But it wasn’t her baby who was doing the howling.

  And in the next-door boxroom, Gabbie sat bolt upright at the sound, gave a whimper of fright and made a frantic dive straight underneath Wendy’s bedcovers. From there she poked up a quivering nose and ventured to ask, ‘What is it? What is it?’ The child was trembling like a leaf. ‘Wendy…’

  ‘It’s nothing to be afraid of.’ Boy, Bruce could wake the dead, here. Wendy suppressed a sigh. ‘Uncle Luke came home-came back last night-and he has a surprise for you. I’d imagine that’s what the noise is.’

  Gabbie’s nose emerged another inch or two from under the quilt. Tucked up in bed with Wendy, she was brave enough-sort of. ‘A surprise?’

  ‘That’s what I said.’

  ‘For me?’

  ‘Go take a look. You know where Luke will be sleeping. Or trying to sleep.’

  Nobody could be sleeping now. Even Grace was stirring. The howl sounded on and on into the dawn, and Gabbie’s fingers clutched Wendy’s.

  ‘That’s the surprise?’ Her eyes were like saucers. ‘It sounds awful.’

  ‘It’s not awful. Go see.’

  Gabbie gulped. ‘Not without you.’

  Now how had she known she’d say that? With a sigh, Wendy hauled back the bedcovers and poked her feet into her slippers. She pulled on a robe-at least she could be respectable here-and then took Gabbie’s hand. A gurgle from the crib reminded them both that they weren’t a pair. They were a team.

  ‘Grace wants to see, too,’ Gabbie announced and Wendy nodded.

  ‘Of course. Why not.’ She lifted the baby, and Grace’s bright button eyes twinkled up at her. ‘Your big brother is home,’ she told her. ‘And he’s brought our Gabbie a present. A present that’s intent on breaking the sound barrier. Okay, team. Let’s go meet this present before it splits our eardrums.’

  The puppy was not happy.

  Last night things had been different and interesting and exhausting for a pup. First there had been the initial meeting with Luke-an hour while he’d played and rolled and generally talked his way into a new owner’s heart. Then he’d been put into a cardboard box which had taken all of one small dog’s ingenuity and energy to escape from. There’d been some very interesting tummy collywobbles-courtesy of cardboard consumption-and by the time he’d arrived at Bay Beach, met Wendy, been given warm milk and been put to bed, the small Bruce had been so exhausted that he’d slept all night.

  But now he’d woken in a strange bed, with a strange person and there wasn’t another basset-hound in sight. No mum. No brothers and sisters. It was enough to freak a small pup right out, and freak Bruce did, at the top of his lungs. His howl went on for ever, no matter how much Luke picked him up and told him he was okay and offered him puppy food and anything else a small dog could desire.

  He wanted none of it. He howled and he howled and he howled.

  And that was how Wendy and Gabbie and Grace found him. Still howling. They opened Luke’s bedroom door with caution, and Luke was sitting up looking resplendent in pale blue pyjamas with bright red sailing boats all over-he’d made a special effort to make up for the red-hearted boxer shorts-and Bruce was sitting on his knee, his small basset nose was raised to the moon, and he was howling with all the gusto of generation after generation of basset-hound ancestors-and maybe a bit of wolf ancestry thrown in for good measure.

  Wendy stopped dead at the sight before her. There was Luke in his sailing-boat pyjamas, helplessly holding a howling basset puppy. They looked truly, truly ridiculous! Oh, dear…

  She’d never seen a man look so helpless. One man in charge of his world-but not in charge of one small puppy.

  ‘Oh…’

  By her side, Gabbie breathed deeply, awestruck at the sight. She took in the scene, and her mouth dropped wide open. ‘It’s a puppy,’ she whispered. ‘A puppy!’

  ‘It’s a very noisy puppy,’ Wendy said, but she wasn’t sure she could be heard over the racket. She knelt so she could hear what Gabbie was saying.

  ‘Why is it crying?’ Gabbie whispered, still clutching Wendy’s hand as if Bruce might leap on her, fangs bared. Ha!

  ‘I guess he’s missing his mummy.’

  ‘Then where’s his mummy?’ Gabbie’s big eyes flew to Luke, and suddenly there was accusation behind them.

  ‘Hey, I didn’t steal his mother,’ Luke said, wounded. He could see straight away what she was thinking. ‘He was being sold anyway.’

  ‘He was being sold?’

  ‘Puppies need owners,’ Wendy told her gently, giving her a small and gentle push forward. ‘Your Uncle Luke decided that this puppy’s owner would be you. I guess that means, from now on, you’re the puppy’s mummy. If that’s what you want.’

  ‘Oh…’ The little girl’s breath sighed out in a long, jagged rush of awe. ‘Oh…’

  ‘If you want him,’ Wendy said. She gave a rueful look at Bruce, who’s nose was still in the air, whose ears were back and who was still howling at the moon as if there was no tomorrow. Oh, dear. Maybe…maybe a basset-hound wasn’t such a great choice.

  But…

  ‘I can be his mummy?’ Gabbie whispered.

  ‘He needs a mummy.’ It was Luke now, speaking above the noise. He cast an uncertain glance at Wendy and then focused on Gabbie. This was important. ‘I tried to act like his mum last night but I’m not very good at it. See…he doesn’t think I make the grade.’

  ‘How can I be his mummy?’ Gabbie seemed totally befuddled.

  ‘You might try cuddling him and giving him some breakfast,’ Wendy suggested.

  ‘Mmm.’

  For a long, long moment the little girl considered this, while, unconcerned with these stupid humans, the puppy howled on. Then, appearing at last to come to a decision, Gabbie solemnly released Wendy’s hand. She walked those last few steps forward, and put her hand on the puppy’s head.

  ‘Don’t cry, puppy,’ she said.

  The puppy cast her a doubtful look-and went right on howling.

  But instinctively Gabbie knew what to do. She took a deep breath, took her courage in both hands and lifted the puppy up until her eyes met his.

  ‘Hey, puppy, this is a good place to be,’ she told him, and her voice was even a little stern. ‘This is a place for people without mummies. Grace and me don’t have mummies and Wendy’s our mummy and it’s really good here. And if you like, I’ll be your mummy and we’ll have fun together. And you can play in my cubby.’

  There was suddenly silence. Miraculously there was silence. The whole world held its breath while Bruce seemed to consider his options.

  Wendy and Luke’s eyes met, and they held their collective breath.

  Girl and dog were nose to nose. The puppy eyeballed his new mistress for a long, long moment-and then, very slowly, the tiny tail stirred and waved.

  And one pink tongue came out for this final investigation. Tongue met nose. Bruce was meeting his new mistress. His…mummy? And Luke looked up at Wendy and grinned and grinned, as if he’d personally achieved a miracle.

  Which, come to think of it, Wendy conceded, he had.

  Despite his peculiar pyjamas.

  And then, after that, they all sort of landed up in the bed. It was a big bed. Luke was already in it, Gabbie and Bruce were caught up in bedcovers and it seemed silly for Wendy to keep standing by the door when Gabbie was holding Bruce and telling Wendy to come and feel how soft his ears were… How wet his tongue was… How fat his tummy was…

  So Wendy came and perched on the edge of the bed, staying as distant as she cou
ld from this pyjama-clad threat to her placidity! But then Bruce lunged at Grace. Grace toppled over in her delight at trying to reach this wonderful new toy, and Wendy had to separate them and she fell sideways…

  And Grandma’s bump just fitted her exactly-and there was no use resisting. So she and Luke lay side by side, and she gave in and let her sensations have their sway and chuckled at the sight of this ill-assorted brood getting to know each other.

  It felt just wonderful.

  But it also felt…dangerous.

  What was happening? Luke was holding Grace up in the air above his head, making her chortle with pleasure. Gabbie and Bruce were somewhere under the bedclothes-good grief!-any minute now there’d be a puddle and then there’d be trouble! The bed wasn’t big enough to lie too far apart, and the bumps wouldn’t allow it anyway. The soft cloth of Wendy’s nightgown was brushing those crazy flannelette sailing boats, and the warmth radiating out from his side of the bed was seductive in its charm…

  ‘Breakfast,’ Wendy said jerkily, and sat up fast. She was aware that her face was suffused with colour-which was silly. ‘And that puppy needs to go outside.’

  ‘No, he doesn’t,’ Luke said lazily, and grinned.

  ‘If you don’t know your puppies…’ Heavens, why was the man’s smile so…so darned irresistible?

  ‘It’s the very fact that I do know my puppies,’ he said, still watching Wendy with that strange, enigmatic smile that had the power to make her heart do all sorts of things it had no business doing. ‘Or rather, I know one puppy in particular. That puppy is very, very close to me and I also know that there’s a warm, wet puddle right under my left big toe. That tells me he no longer needs to go outside at all, and I do hope we now have a working washing machine, Miss Maher.’

  ‘We have a working washing machine.’ She tried to look disapproving but it didn’t quite come off. ‘Right…right under your left big toe?’

  ‘Actually right on my left big toe,’ he corrected himself. He held Grace high again and grinned his gorgeous smile at his baby sister. ‘And, unless I’m very much mistaken, there’s a certain moistness about you, too, Grace Grey. So I believe our Wendy’s right. We rise, we dry off, we have breakfast-and then we hit the day. Because there’s all sorts of things I want to do today. All sorts.’

  ‘Aren’t…aren’t you going back to Sydney?’ Wendy managed, trying not to look as if she cared. It didn’t quite come off.

  ‘No, Wendy, I’m not,’ he told her dryly. He reached under the bedclothes and retrieved Bruce, holding him high with his baby sister. One baby in one hand, one puppy in the other, and he eyed them both with misgivings. ‘Rightly or wrongly, I’ve decided a few days spent here are in order-for me to get to know my new family. My entire new family!’

  And she could make of that what she would.

  An hour later, Wendy was outside hanging freshly laundered sheets over the washing line and trying to come to terms with the fact that Luke had decided to stay on. He had the right, she guessed-but she badly didn’t want him to.

  Why? It was important for him to get to know Grace. She knew that. Bonding was good. So what was the problem with him staying?

  It was her, she thought crossly. It was the way her body responded to him. He made her feel like no one had ever made her feel before. Including Adam. Luke walked into the room and it sort of lit up.

  He had the two children mesmerised-they were shrieking with laughter now as he rolled over and over on the south lawn, showing Gabbie how much faster she could roll downhill, teaching Grace to roll herself from one side to the other, and fending one puppy away from two baby noses. Gabbie, who normally held herself totally aloof, seemed besotted.

  ‘Which I’m not,’ Wendy told herself sternly. ‘I can’t afford to be. I’m the employee here.’

  But still…

  ‘Wendy, we need help.’ Suddenly he was right beside her, handing her the next sheet, and holding one end so they could peg together.

  ‘We need help? I’m the one who’s doing the washing.’ She glared at him. ‘You didn’t leave the children alone with the dog, did you?’

  ‘Bruce is hardly going to eat them.’

  ‘No, but-’

  ‘And I’ve taught Gabbie the proper way to pick Bruce up so she won’t hurt him. She really is a very intelligent little girl. You need have no qualms, ma’am. Everything is in order.’

  ‘I-’

  ‘And now I’ve helped you hang the washing,’ he said virtuously. ‘So it’s your turn to help me. I need you.’

  I need you… Three small words, but they had the power to twist her heart. Ha! Need! This man needed no one.

  ‘What for?’ She glowered with distrust but her distrust was ignored.

  ‘The canoe’s still under the house,’ he told her. ‘I checked. And there’s life jackets. I reckon there’s even one I can cut down to make a ring for Bruce. The morning’s gorgeous, Miss Maher. The urgent work is done, so forget the housework. Forget responsibilities. There’s places here that you’ve never imagined, and it’d be my very great privilege to show them to you.’

  ‘But-’

  ‘No argument. I’m your boss, remember.’ He put a finger on her lips, and he couldn’t have guessed just what sensations the touch engendered. She could hardly tell herself. ‘Just come and see. And prepare to be amazed!’

  She was. There was no other word for it.

  Wendy had never done anything like this in her life, and she could only sit in her end of the canoe, hold on to Grace and Bruce-and wonder!

  They’d launched the canoe, with Luke pulling, Wendy and Gabbie pushing and Grace and Bruce inside as they’d hauled it down across the sloping paddock to the beach. Then Luke had secured them all in assorted life jackets, had looped Wendy to Bruce and Grace-‘So if you all go overboard you’ll bob around together like three really weird corks until I can fish you all out’-and they’d set sail. Or set paddle if you were being picky. Which Wendy was past being.

  There was hardly any need for life jackets. The day was brilliant. The water was turquoise clear; it was shallow and as calm as a millpond, and Bruce and Grace and Gabbie were so amazed they hardly moved.

  They just watched. And why not? To the left of the farm, the beach gave way to a series of shallow cliffs and it was here that Luke directed the canoe. He handled the canoe as if he’d spent a lifetime behind the paddle-‘Which I have,’ he told them. ‘A childhood of paddling and permanent calluses can’t easily be unlearned.’

  Wendy had expected just a run along the cliff line, but to her astonishment as they neared the cliffs Luke steered right for the rocks. Just as she was wondering what on earth he was doing-they looked as if they’d bump hard into the granite rock face-she saw that they were heading for an opening.

  Luke didn’t pause. Catching a wave which ran them right in, he steered inside-into an underwater cavern that had to be seen to be believed.

  It was utterly magic. Wondrous.

  The first cavern was big and dark and gloomy, and Gabbie clutched Wendy, and Wendy clutched the two babies-dog and Grace-but there was no need to worry because they were all as still as church-mice. The canoe glided forward into the darkness-and then there was another opening…

  ‘Oh…’

  Wendy’s breath was let out in a long sigh of discovery and delight. This, too, was a cavern, but instead of being gloomy it was lit by a hundred fissures leading up through the rock to the brilliant sky beyond. The sun glimmered and streamed from above, down into the shallow water. The sea beneath them was no more than three feet or so deep, the bottom was sandy, and a thousand little fish of every conceivable colour flitted and darted around their boat, in and out of the sunbeams.

  ‘Oh…’ It was all she could think of to say. She sounded inane, but there seemed nothing else, and Luke sat back and beamed like a genial genie who’d produced this miracle out of a bottle.

  ‘This is my cubby,’ he told them proudly. ‘My grandpa showed me this place when
I was four years old and, as far as I know, I’m the only person in the world who knows where it is. And now I’m sharing it with you.’

  He was talking to Gabbie. He must be.

  But Wendy, glancing up from the wonder of the water below the boat, saw that Luke’s eyes were resting on hers.

  ‘I’m sharing it with you,’ he said again, more softly, and she knew, suddenly, his words were meant for her alone.

  It was like a kiss, she thought. More. It was like a declaration made right there and then, and it took her breath away. Like a fool, she blushed crimson and started to stammer.

  ‘I…it’s wonderful. Like…like a pirate’s cave.’

  ‘Full of treasure,’ he said gently, and his eyes were still on hers.

  Good grief! This man had seduction down to a fine art! Wendy was feeling heat rising from all sorts of places she had no idea heat could rise from. Totally bewildered, she held close the nearest object-Grace-and held her over the water. Grace’s small hands reached out for the darting fish while Wendy fought wave after wave of mounting colour and emotion.

  ‘We can beach the boat here,’ Luke told them, steering the boat into the far end of the chamber where the water shallowed out to a wide stretch of soft sand. The sun glimmered down here, too-not in a steady stream but rather as individual slivers of silver, like a light show that would have cost thousands if it were man-made, but here it was done for them for free.

  Up above, there were fern fronds casting their shadows over the fissures in the rocks, and the dappled light had the fronds indented into the sunbeams, and waving and shimmering in the warm sea air so the sunbeams danced and glimmered and cast a spell that was almost unbelievable in its beauty.

  Wendy could hardly take it all in. She was speechless and some of the sensations she was feeling had nothing to do with this place. It had everything to do with the way this man was looking at her-the feel of his hands as he helped her out of the boat, and the way his eyes glinted down at her as if he sensed exactly what she was feeling.

  Thank heaven for the children. Without them…oh, without them, who knew? But they were there. Thank heaven…