‘You were sick. I thought I’d killed you. It was the least I could do.’
‘You took my phone.’
‘Yes, and I talked to Hattie. She agrees you need a day off.’
‘It’s not her business. It’s not your business.’
‘No,’ she snapped. ‘And neither is this dog but he’s freezing. Get over it and help me.’
Her gaze locked with his. She could feel his anger, his frustration, his shock.
His body …
His body was almost enough to distract her from his anger, his frustration, his shock.
But she couldn’t think of it now. She had the dog to think of. And, while she was chiding herself, Gabe stooped and touched the dog’s face.
The dog tried to raise his head again. Failed.
‘Don’t think you’ve heard the last of this,’ he said grimly. ‘But this guy’s done.’
‘Done.’ Nikki cringed. ‘He’s not dying.’
‘Close to.’ He’d moved on, she thought. All his attention was now on the dog. He seemed hesitant, as if he didn’t want involvement, but the dog stirred and moaned, and something in Gabe’s face changed. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘If you’re serious, let’s get him into my place. The fire’s going. Did you stoke it?’
‘Yes. I did it for you.’ Or not exactly. In her night-time prowls she’d tossed a couple of logs on the fire at each pass. It had seemed comforting. She’d been in need of comfort, and the thought of taking the dog in there now was a good one.
‘Can you get up, big boy?’ Gabe asked. ‘Come on, mate, let’s see you live.’
Gabe was fondling him behind the ears, speaking softly, and the dog responded. He gave Gabe another of those gut wrenching looks, another moan, then heaved. He managed to stand.
Standing up, he looked like a bag of bones with a worn rug stretched over him. Only his ears were still full fur. They hinted at a dog who’d once been handsome but that time was long past.
He swayed and Gabe stooped and held him, still fondling him, while the dog leaned heavily against him.
‘So you decided to come and find some help?’ he said softly. ‘Great decision. You’re safe here. You even seem to have found a friend. Mind, you need to beware of pokers.’ But he wasn’t glancing up to see how she took the wisecrack; he was totally focused on the dog. ‘Let’s get you warm. Miss Morrissy, could you fetch us some towels, please? A lot of towels. Put some in the tumble dryer to warm them.’
‘It’s Nikki,’ she said numbly.
‘Nikki,’ he repeated, but he still didn’t look up.
The dog took a staggering step forward and then stopped. Enough. Gabe lifted him into his arms as if he were a featherweight, and the dog made no objection. Maybe he knew he was headed for Gabe’s fireside.
Nikki headed for towels.
But, as she went, she carried the image of Gabe, a big man with his armful of dog.
He was making her heart twist.
It was the dog, she told herself fiercely. Of course it was the dog.
Only the dog. Anything else was ridiculous.
She did not need hormones.
Horse was freezing. It hadn’t been raining, yet he was soaked—had he been standing in the water all night?
Nikki fetched her hairdryer. Gabe sponged the worst of the salt crust from his coat, then towelled him dry as she ran warm air over his tangled fur. The big dog lay passive, hopeless, and Nikki felt an overwhelming urge to pick him up and hug him.
He was so big … She’d have to hug him one end at a time.
She also wanted to kill whoever had abandoned him. To do something so callous …
‘Your cop friend said he was thrown from a boat.’
‘He’ll still feel loyal to the low-life who did it to him,’ Gabe said grimly. ‘I’d guess that’s why he’s been standing in the shallows howling.’
She sniffed. She sniffed more than once while she wielded her hairdryer, and she had to abandon her work for a bit to fetch tissues. She couldn’t help herself. The emotions of the night, the emotions of the past two months, or maybe simply the emotions of now, were enough to overwhelm her. This gentle giant being betrayed in such a way …
She’d set towels by the fire for Gabe to lay him on. With her hairdryer and Gabe’s toweling, they dried one side of him. Then Gabe lifted him. She replaced the sodden towels with warm ones and they dried his other side.
Gabe spoke to him all the time. Slow, gentle words of comfort. While Nikki sniffed.
Gabe’s words were washing over her, reassuring her almost as much as the dog. His kindness was palpable. How could she ever have thought he’d ignore a dog in trouble on the beach? His hands stroking the dog’s coat … his soft words …
He was a gruff, weathered fisherman but he cared about this dog.
He’d been rude and cold to her the day they’d met. Where was that coldness now?
She tried to imagine Jonathan doing what Gabe was doing now, and couldn’t. And then she thought … what was she thinking? Comparing Gabe and Jon? Don’t even think of going there.
Um … she was going there. Gabe’s body was just a bit too close.
Gabe’s body was making her body feel …
No. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Focus on dog.
The big dog’s body had been shuddering, great waves of cold and despair. As the warmth started to permeate, the shaking grew less. Gabe was half towelling, half stroking, all caring.
‘It’s okay, mate. We’ll get you warm on the inside as well.’
‘Do you think he got the steak?’
‘I’m guessing not,’ he said. ‘Not in the state he’s in—the food would have warmed him and he wouldn’t be so hopeless. There’s all sorts of predators on the beach at night—owls, rats, the odd feral cat. I’m guessing that’s why he’s here. He came back round the headland looking for the steak, then when we were gone he followed our scent. There was nowhere else to go.’
‘Oh, Horse.’
Grown women didn’t cry. Much. She concentrated fiercely on blow-drying—and realised Gabe was watching her.
‘Horse?’ he said.
‘I’ve been thinking of him
