Tried. Tried again. As she was doing now.
She’d set eight stones in an hour and was feeling as if she’d achieved something amazing.
This could be a whole new hobby, she thought. She could finish the wall.
Horse lay by her side, dozy but watchful, warm in the afternoon sunshine. Every now and then he cast a doubtful glance towards the beach but she’d fashioned a tie from the curtain cords, she had him tethered and she talked to him as she worked.
‘I know. You loved him but he rejected you. You and me both. Jonathan and your scum-bag owner. Broken hearts club, that’s us. We need a plan to get over it. I’m not sure what our plan should be, but while we’re waiting for something to occur this isn’t bad.’ She held up a stone. ‘You think this’ll fit?’
The dog cocked his head; seemed to consider.
The pain that had clenched in her chest for months eased a little. Unknotted in the sharing, and in the work.
She would have liked to be a builder.
She thought suddenly of a long ago careers exhibition. At sixteen she’d been unsure of what she wanted to do. She’d gone to the career exhibition with school and almost the first display was a carpenter, working on a delicate coffee table. While other students moved from one display to the next, she stopped, entranced.
After half an hour he’d invited her to help, and she’d stayed with him until her teachers came to find her.
‘I’ll need to get an apprenticeship to be a carpenter,’ she’d told her father the next time she’d seen him, breathless with certainty that she’d found her calling.
But her father was due to catch the dawn flight to New York. He’d scheduled two hours’ quality time with his daughter and he didn’t intend wasting it on nonsense.
‘Of course society needs builders, but for you, my girl, with your brains, the sky’s the limit. We’ll get you into Law—Oxford? Cambridge?’
Even her chosen engineering degree had met with combined parental disapproval, even though it was specialist engineering leading to a massive salary. But here, now … She remembered that long ago urge to build things, to create.
Air conditioning systems didn’t compare. Endless plans.
Another stone … This was so difficult. It had to be perfect.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’
She managed to suppress a yelp, but only just. Gabe was dressed again, in jeans and T-shirt. He’d come up behind her. His face was like thunder, his voice was dripping ice.
He was blocking her sun. Even Horse backed and whimpered.
The sheer power of the man … the anger …
It was as much as she could do not to back and run.
Not her style, she thought grimly. This man had her totally disconcerted but whimpering was never an option. ‘I thought I’d try and do some …’ she faltered.
‘Don’t.’
‘Don’t you want it finished? I thought … I’ve been reading the books from your living room.’
‘You’ve been reading my mother’s books?’
Uh-oh. She’d desecrated a shrine?
‘I’m sorry. I …’
‘You had no right.’
‘No.’ She lifted the book she’d been referring to. Caught her breath. Decided she’d hardly committed murder. ‘I’ll put this back,’ she said placatingly. ‘No damage done. I don’t think I’ve done anything appalling.’
But then … he’d scared her. Again.
Shock was turning to indignation.
He was angry?
She met his gaze full on. Tilted her chin.
Horse nosed her ankle. She let her hand drop to his rough coat and the feel of him was absurdly comforting.
What was with this guy? Why did he make her feel—how he made her feel? She couldn’t describe it. She only knew that she was totally confused.
‘I’ve only fitted eight stones,’ she said, forcing her tone down a notch. Even attempting a smile. ‘You want me to take them out again?’
‘Leave it.’ His voice was still rough, but the edges of anger were blunted. He took the book from her. Glanced at it. Glanced away. ‘How’s the dog?’
‘He’s fine.’ She was still indignant. He sounded … cold.
The normal Gabe?
A man she should back away from.
‘We need to make a decision,’ he said.
‘I have,’ she said and tilted her chin still further.
‘Hi!’
The new voice made them both swivel. A woman was at the gate. She was middle-aged and sensibly dressed, in moleskin trousers and a battered fleecy jacket. She swung the gate open and Horse whined and backed away.
Even from twenty yards away Nikki saw the woman flinch.
‘It’s okay,’ the woman said, gentling her voice as she approached. ‘I hate it that I lock these guys up and they react accordingly. I can’t help that I’m associated with their life’s low point.’
Horse whined again. Nikki felt him tug against the cord. She wasn’t all that sure of it holding.
Gabe was suddenly helping. His hand was on the big dog’s neck, helping her hold on to her curtain-fashioned collar. Touching hers. His hand was large and firm—and once more caring?
Where had that thought come from? But she felt Horse relax and she knew the dog felt the same. Even if this guy did get inexplicably angry, there was something at his core …
‘Raff told me you’d found him,’ the woman was saying. ‘Hi, Gabe.’ She came forward, her hand extended to Nikki, a blunt gesture of greeting. ‘We haven’t met. I’m Henrietta. I run the local dog shelter. This guy’s one of mine.’
Horse whimpered and tried to go behind Nikki’s legs. Nikki’s hand tightened on his collar—and so did Gabe’s.
Hands touching. Warmth. Strength. Nikki didn’t pull away, even though Henrietta’s hand was still extended, even though she knew Gabe could hold him.
‘You want me to take him?’ Henrietta asked.
No.
Her decision had already been made but she needed Gabe’s consent. He was, after all, her landlord.
‘I’d
