by Lucy Gordon
The start of a canine love affair?
Oh, for heaven’s sake … She really was operating on hormones this morning. Mardie whistled. Bounce ran towards her and Bessie came with him.
Wagging her tail.
Wagging her whole body.
Border collies worked for pleasure. Herding sheep had been bred into them for generations.
This dog was seriously good.
She’d kept her distance from the flock. It was a bright morning and the sheep were washed clean with the rain. White against green … it had been possible for her to help.
And if she could help blind …
How much would it cost …?
‘I’ll pay,’ Blake said and she blinked.
‘Pardon?’
‘I can’t keep her,’ he said. ‘I know it’s not fair to ask you to keep a dog I found, but you’ve always had more than one dog. I remember three.’
‘I don’t think …’
‘She’s born to work,’ he said. ‘She’s almost as good blind as Bounce is now.’
‘Bounce will get better,’ she said, distracted and loyal. ‘He’s a work in progress.’
‘And Bessie’s a work of art. You know she’s good. You could use her. I can afford …’
‘It doesn’t always work,’ she said shortly. She’d thought this through it morning, with her face against Clarabelle’s flank. It was the time she did her best thinking, but the conclusions she’d come to this morning were bleak. ‘You think I’d do that to her? Send her to the city, two operations, each one risky. Weeks in a strange place, strange kennels, knowing no one. She’s done that already. She’s been in the pound since Charlie went into care. She’s been thrown out of the Animal Welfare van when it crashed and she’s been wandering lost for a week. You want me to put her through more trauma?’
‘Yes,’ he said bluntly. ‘She could take it.’
‘She can’t.’ Mardie squatted, clicking her fingers, and the gentle little collie came to her. ‘She’s had enough, Blake,’ she said. ‘To put her through operations with no guarantee of success …’
But he wasn’t accepting what she was saying. ‘It would succeed,’ he said, just as firmly. He hesitated. ‘Okay, there’s never a hundred per cent guarantee but it’s close. She’s a young dog. These cataracts haven’t been present for all that long. I’ve had a good look. They’re full, fluid-filled, not old and shrinking. That means less risk of scarring. Underneath, her eyes should be fine. There’s a small risk of retina detachment with the operation, but with the best aftercare the risk is tiny.’
‘How do you know?’
‘I do the same operation all the time on humans,’ he said simply. ‘That’s what I am, it’s what I do—ophthalmology. There’s a vet in Sydney who spent time with me while we were training. He’s a personal friend and, Mardie, I know he’ll do this for me. I’ll pay all the expenses and at the end of it you’ll have a fine working dog. I know she’s my responsibility; I’m not asking you to take her on as a favour. I know she’ll be a fabulous dog. I know she can be cured.’
She stared up at him, stunned. ‘But the cost …’ She couldn’t think of anything more sensible to say.
‘You know money’s not an issue.’
Of course it wasn’t. Somehow she forced herself not to look at Blake, to look only at Bessie. To think only of Bessie. So many things … To take this next step …
‘I’d … I’d have to talk to Charlie,’ she managed.
‘Charlie?’
‘The guy who owned her.’
‘He put her in the pound.’
‘He didn’t have a choice. He was hospitalised himself.’
Bessie was being licked now by Bounce. Her week of escape had left her with interesting smells, and probably interesting tastes. Both dogs seemed deeply content.
Bessie and Bounce … Growing more devoted by the moment.
Hormones. Leave them out of this.
‘How long would she need to stay in Sydney?’ she asked, cautiously. Forcing herself to think past Blake. Beginning to think … maybe.
‘Maybe a week. A few days before for tests and a few days after.’
‘You’d be doing this because …’
‘Call it thanks for the night’s accommodation.’
‘Then we’d be square again,’ she said, a bit too harshly because suddenly … suddenly that was how she was feeling. Harsh. ‘It wouldn’t do to be in my debt.’
‘Mardie …’
‘I’m sorry, that’s not very gracious.’ She rose, reaching a decision. Regrouped. Tried very hard to put harsh behind her.
‘Okay, so I don’t want charity, but this is Bessie we’re talking about. So that’d be it? You’d take her to Sydney, fix her eyes, give her back to me, no strings attached?’
‘What do you mean—strings?’
‘I’m not sure,’ she said. ‘It was only … that kiss. Blake, dumb or not, I don’t want to go down the friendship path again. One cured dog, that’s all this would be.’
‘I never suggested anything else.’
She didn’t reply.
She was being dumb.
He’d never suggested anything else. Of course he hadn’t. So what … else was she thinking?
* * *
He hated not knowing what she was thinking. He’d always known.
He didn’t know now.
He gazed around him, at the farm, at the sunlight on the wet grass, at the great crashed gum in the distance.
The shattered timber …
A friendship finished.
It wasn’t about the kiss, he thought. It was about much more.
‘I should have written,’ he said softly into the morning stillness. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t. I was young and stupid and I didn’t know how to handle my own grief at leaving.’
‘You weren’t sad to be going. You were jumping out of your skin.’
‘I was,’ he said. ‘But I was sad to be leaving you. Gutted.’
‘You didn’t show it.’
‘If I’d shown it,’ he said simply, ‘I never could have left.’
Then the outside world arrived. A police car pulled up out on the road, and Raff, the local cop, strolled across the paddocks to meet them. Someone had obviously reported Blake’s crashed car.
‘Hey,’ Raff called. Blake knew Raff—he’d been part of the pack of local kids and he could see Raff recognised him in turn. Raff greeted him with warmth and a trace of relief. ‘I heard you were at the reunion last night. When Gladys Mitchell called and said a Mercedes was wrapped round a tree I thought it must be you.’ He grinned as he took in Blake’s battered clothes. ‘New fashion for farm work? Give the place a certain style, eh, Mardie? So what happened?’
He listened as a good cop should, but when he was told about Bessie his cheer slid away.
‘Dogs,’ he said bleakly. ‘They’re all over the place, and this one … At least Henrietta will be thankful she’s found. You want me to take her back to town?’
‘I’m keeping her,’ Mardie said, and Raff looked from the dog to Mardie and back again.
‘She’s blind, Mardie,’ he said, as if Mardie might not have noticed. ‘I don’t know how to say this but …’
‘Blake says he’ll fix her for me. He’s an eye surgeon. He knows about cataracts. He’ll take her back to Sydney and cure her.’
Raff whistled, stunned. ‘You’d do that?’
‘Yeah,’ Blake said, feeling suddenly defensive. There was surprise in Raff’s voice—amazement that an outsider was offering to help in what was essentially the town’s business?
He’d never been part of this community, he thought. He’d been the rich kid. The kid who lived with the weird old lady. Now here he was, still on the outside, a guy in a dinner suit, offering charity.
But the charity, it seemed, was acceptable. ‘Hen’ll offer you her kingdom,’ Raff said. ‘Mind, her kingdom consists of lost dogs so I’d run a mile. But what about you, Mardie? Can you afford to keep ano
ther dog?’
Afford …
Were things so tight, then, that the cost of even keeping another dog would be a consideration?
‘Of course I can. And she’s good, Raff,’ Mardie said. ‘Great with sheep. I’ll go in and talk to Charlie.’
‘Charlie?’
‘Her collar said she’s Charlie’s dog.’
Raff whistled at that, too. ‘Of course. I remember … She’ll be great, then. Charlie’s been amazing,’ he told Blake. ‘In his day he’s been the best dog-trainer in the district. Took every championship going.’
And Blake suddenly remembered.
Just before Mardie’s dad died he’d taken them to the local sheepdog trials. They’d seen an elderly man in a battered coat and wide-brimmed hat take all the awards going. Charlie. Charlie’s dogs had moved sheep so skilfully they might as well be attached to them by leads. The dogs simply looked at the sheep and the sheep jumped to obey.
‘I’ll learn how to do that,’ Mardie had declared, and he couldn’t help himself—he looked at Bounce. Who was still sort of … bouncing.
‘He’s a work in progress,’ Mardie repeated defensively, and he grinned.
‘I can see that. Taking a while to settle.’
‘Bessie’ll teach him,’ she said. ‘When she’s better.’
‘So you are serious?’ Raff asked Blake. ‘Will you take her to Sydney with you now?’
And Blake got that, too. This guy was interested in practicalities and he was also protecting his own. He wasn’t having Mardie landed with a blind dog and a half-promise to fix her. Maybe Raff knew, as Blake did, that once Mardie took Bessie on, she’d keep her, regardless.
Once Mardie gave her heart, she didn’t take it back.
And that was a kick in the guts, too.
She’d married?
What was she supposed to have done? Had he expected her to stay loyal to him for fifteen years? Pining for a memory?
He’d moved on. So had she.
‘I need to contact my vet friend,’ he said, but he was speaking to Mardie. He was thinking of Mardie, feeling bad. Okay, he’d let her down in the past, but on this at least he could make good. ‘I don’t know when he could fit her in. And I’ll need to get her there. I imagine I’ll need to take the bus back to Sydney and come back once I’ve organised a car.’
‘I’ll take you back to Sydney,’ Mardie said.
Silence.
Mardie, driving him back to Sydney.
It was little more than a two-hour drive.
Why not?
It was just that …
He saw the corners of her mouth twitch. Uh-oh. She’d guessed his errant thought. His dumb thought.
‘I’m guessing Blake’s worrying that Sydney’s a big, big city and I might rightfully be scared,’ she told Raff, her eyes suddenly alight with laughter. ‘But I hear there’s folk who’ve visited and come out alive.’ She snagged a blade of grass and started chewing. Country hick personified. ‘Ain’t that right, Raff?’
‘He’s right in that there’s perils aplenty,’ Raff said gravely, cop-like, catching on in an instant.
‘Like what?’ she said and put on an anxious face.
‘Restrooms,’ Raff drawled back. ‘Fearsome places. They teach us in cop school. If you use a city restroom, don’t sit on the seat—city germs’ll kill you before you can put your shopping on the floor. And don’t put your feet on the ground or you’ll be hit by a syringe from under the stalls. White slave traders,’ he said, his voice loaded with doom. ‘You’ll wake up in a harem in Bathsheba. You reckon you can risk that, our Mardie?’
Mardie grinned. At Raff, not at him.
‘I reckon I’ll take my chances. Lorraine’ll look after my place for a while. Mum’s happy right now. The forecast for the weather’s settled. It’ll do me good to have a few days away.’
Whoa, Blake thought. A few days? She was coming to Sydney as in … coming to stay?
‘My aunt’s apartment only has one bedroom,’ he said before he could stop himself.
Mardie’s grin widened. She and Raff were still enjoying their joke. ‘Not a harem, then?’
‘Um …’ He managed a limp smile. ‘No.’
‘Too bad. But I have somewhere I can stay in Sydney,’ she said quite kindly. ‘In Coogee. I can take Bounce there. It’ll be easier on Bessie if Bounce is close; a semblance of normality. Is Coogee close to where Bessie will need to be looked after?’
‘Yes.’ As luck would have it, the next suburb to Central Vets.
But … How come she had a place to stay in Sydney? The way she and Raff were laughing … she went often?
There were a million questions he wanted to ask.
He was an outsider. He had no right to ask.
‘I’ll catch the bus back to Sydney,’ he said, not knowing what else to say. ‘I’ll let you know about Bessie’s operation and you can come as soon as it’s scheduled.’
‘Organise it now,’ Raff said, laughter giving way to cop in charge.
‘You don’t trust me?’
‘I don’t want Mardie landed with a blind dog.’ Raff’s smile died. ‘You haven’t been near the place for fifteen years. Why should I trust you? Sorry, mate, but my job’s looking out for this community.’
‘I keep my word.’
‘I trust him,’ Mardie said.
It needed only that—that she gave him a reference as well as everything else. But he glanced at her and she met his gaze and he saw …
It was more than words. She was meeting his gaze head-on, her eyes clear and steady, and he knew that a decision had been taken.
He’d lost something fifteen years ago. A tiny part of that was being given back.
He smiled at her, and she smiled straight back, a wide, cheeky smile that was almost daring.
He’d forgotten how lovely that smile was.
Or maybe he’d always remembered but he’d locked it away in a corner that had stayed locked; a corner that held things that hurt too much to take out and examine.
A corner that held Robbie?
‘You have a change of clothes somewhere?’ Raff asked, watching them both with a bemused expression. It was a cop expression, giving nothing away but maybe understanding more than they wanted.
‘No, I …’
‘There’s nothing in the car except your laptop and briefcase,’ Raff said. ‘I searched it. I also wasted a few minutes searching in case you were dead. You might have phoned, Mardie.’
‘The phone’s down.’
He swore. ‘Sorry, that’s right, a tree crashed on the lines between town and here. It should be up by lunchtime. Okay, moving on, you need to organise the dog and then you need to organise something to wear. You go out in public like that and I’ll have calls to arrest you for indecent exposure.’
Raff was right. He was indecent. His ripped shirt was hardly there.
Both Mardie and Raff were gazing at him. Raff with speculation. Mardie with … something else.
She started to smile and then … suddenly her smile turned again into a blush. He watched as she fought, but failed, to keep her colour under control.
It wasn’t just a blush. It was sheer, breathtaking beauty.
Mardie …
‘I’ll take him into town and buy some gear,’ she managed, trying to sound practical despite the blush. ‘If he can organise Bessie’s operation for this week I’ll take them both to Sydney tomorrow.’
‘Excuse me,’ he said. ‘Is this about me? And I can take the bus.’
‘Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth,’ Raff said shortly. ‘If Mardie’s happy to take you … Sunday’s the soccer bus. You don’t know what you’re missing.’
‘I can’t stay here another night.’
‘There are bed and breakfasts in town,’ Raff said. ‘Though most of your reunion lot are staying for the weekend. You’ll be lucky to find anywhere.’
‘Don’t be dumb,’ Mardie said. ‘You can stay and help me get rid of the rest of the tre
e.’
‘Organise the vet first,’ Raff said.
‘I told you, Raff, I trust him.’
‘Yeah, you’d trust anyone,’ Raff said and handed Blake his radio. ‘Satellite,’ he said. ‘I can get signal anywhere. For emergency cop stuff. Or, in this instance, emergency dog stuff and protecting-Mardie duty. If Mardie’s putting you up for the weekend and you’re imposing a dog on her, it’s the least I can do. Mardie might trust you. I want proof. Ring your mate and see if you can get this operation organised. Now.’
CHAPTER FIVE
COLIN could do it. ‘For no one else,’ he said, ‘but for you, yes. I leave gaps for emergencies. Cataracts don’t usually rate but in this case I’ll slot her in. I’ll need her here three days beforehand for tests and eye-drops. If everything’s good then I’ll schedule surgery for Thursday. She’ll need careful monitoring afterwards but you should be able to do that yourself.’
He’d worry about aftercare later, Blake decided, relaying the part about surgery and tests but not the aftercare. He knew it’d be complicated, and things were complicated enough.
Raff left, promising to send a tow truck for the car. Promising to let Henrietta know about Bessie.
He left grinning.
He’d backed Blake into a corner. Instant dog surgery.
He’d backed him into staying another night with Mardie.
Staying with Mardie was the biggie. He felt … It felt …
As if he was out of control, and Blake Maddock was a man who didn’t like being out of control.
The trip into town made him feel even worse. Mardie had offered to buy clothes for him, but that seemed weird. What he hadn’t thought through was how weird it would be to walk into Morrisy Drapers and have every person in the shop recognise him.
They already knew what had happened. Of course. Banksia Bay was like that. He was wearing his battered dinner-suit trousers and Raff’s spare jacket with cop insignia. Inconspicuous R Us.
He felt like a flashing neon.
‘Oh, you poor boy.’ Mrs Connor, who ran Morrisy Drapers, was a gusher. ‘We hear your car’s a write-off. But Raff says it’s a rental car so that’s lucky. But you were even luckier you weren’t killed. And all for a stray dog. My old dad says never swerve for animals. They’re not worth losing your life over.’
