Nikki and the Lone Wolf (8 page)

There was something about her expression. She was sounding defiant, braving it out, but things were rotten in this woman's world as well. Nikki and Horse, both needy to the point of desperation.

That need had nothing to do with him. He should pull away—but he didn't.

‘Attitude,' he said, deciding he'd be decisive, and she blinked.

‘Pack leader attitude?'

‘That's it. So who decided to come down the beach, you or Horse?'

‘He was miserable.' She sounded defensive.

‘So you followed.'

‘I held onto him. He would have run.'

‘But he walked in front, yes? Team leaders walk in front. The pack's at the back.'

‘You're saying I need to growl at him? Make him subservient? He's already miserable.'

‘He'll be miserable until you order him not to be, and he decides you're worth swapping loyalty.'

‘I shouldn't have let him come down to the beach?'

‘There's not a lot of point being down here, is there?' he said, gentler as he watched her face. And Horse's face. He could swear the dog was listening, his great eyes pools of despair. ‘He's been dumped by a low-life. How's it going to make him feel better to stare at an empty sea? It's up to you to take his place.'

‘The low-life's place?'

‘That's the one.'

‘I haven't had much practice at being the low-life,' she said. ‘I'm a follower. Dumb and dumber, that's me.'

‘We're not talking about your love life.'

‘We're not?'

‘That's shrink territory, not mine.'

‘Like your stone wall.'

‘Do you mind?'

‘Butt out?' She sighed and tried for a smile. ‘Fine. Consider me butted. What do I need to be a pack leader? A whip? Leathers?'

‘Discipline.'

She grinned. ‘Really? Don't tell me, stockings and garters as well.'

He stared at her in the moonlight and he couldn't believe it. She was laughing. Laughing!

The tension of the night dissipated, just like that. Except…a sudden vision of Nikki in stockings and garters…

He almost blushed.

‘I mean,' he said, trying to stop the corners of his mouth twitching, ‘you tell Horse what you expect and you follow through. He's hungry? Use it. Call him, reward him when he comes. Teach him to sit, stay, the usual dog things. But mostly teach him no. He's galloping towards you with a road in between; you need to hold your hand up, yell no and have him stop in his tracks. The same with coming down here. You can bring him down here on your terms, with a ball, something to do to keep him occupied. The minute he stares out to sea like he's considering the low-life, then that's a no. Hard, fast and mean it.'

‘You're good at training dogs?'

‘I had a great dog. Smart as Einstein. She trained me.'

‘I'm sure Horse is smart.'

‘Prove it.'

‘I'm not sure…'

‘Henrietta's daughter takes personal dog coaching. I'm amazed Henrietta hasn't introduced you already.'

‘Henrietta left a card,' she conceded.

‘There you go.'

‘You're not interested in helping yourself?

‘No.' Hard. Definite. He watched her face close and regretted it, but couldn't pull it back.

‘I'm not scary,' she said, almost defiantly, and he thought what a wuss—was he so obvious?

‘I'm busy,' he said. ‘This is the first full day I haven't worked since…'

‘Since Jem died?'

‘Nikki…'

‘I know.' She tugged Horse towards her a little, which forced his hand to let go of the collar. Which meant they were no longer touching. ‘You want me to butt out. Respect your boundaries. I've been respecting boundaries for years. You'd think I'd be good at it.'

‘I didn't mean…'

‘You know, I'm very sure you did,' she told him. ‘Tell me what to do.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘With Horse,' she said patiently. ‘Training. What should I do first?'

‘Take his collar and say “Come”.' This was solid ground. Dog training. He could handle this.

‘Come,' she said and tugged and Horse didn't move. Stared rigidly out to sea.

‘Come!' Another tug.

Gabe sighed. ‘Okay, you're on the head end. We're going to roll him.'

‘What?'

‘He has to learn to submit, otherwise he'll spend the rest of his life waiting for his low-life. Say “Down”.'

‘Down.'

‘Like you mean it!'

‘Down!'

‘You sound like a feather duster.'

‘I do not.'

‘Pretend the boat's sinking. The kid at the other end is standing there with a tin can and a stupid expression. He bails or you drown. Are you going to say “Bail” in that same voice?'

‘He's an abandoned dog. He nearly died. He's hurt and confused. You want me to yell at him?'

‘He's hurt and confused and he needs to relax. The only way he can relax is if he thinks someone else is in charge. You.'

‘You do it.'

‘I'm not his pack leader. Do it, Nikki, or you'll have him howling at the door for weeks, killing himself with exhaustion. You say “Down” like you mean it and we bring him down.'

‘I don't…'

‘Just do it.'

‘Down,' she snapped in a voice so full of authority that both Gabe and the dog started. But he had the dog's back legs and Nikki had his collar. Gabe hauled his legs from under him and rolled him before Horse knew what had hit him.

The big dog was on his back. Shocked into submission.

‘Tell him he's a good dog but keep him down,' Gabe said.

‘This is cruel. He's not fit…'

‘He's going to pine until we do it. Do it.'

‘G… Good dog.'

‘Now let him up again.'

The dog lumbered to his feet.

‘Now down again.'

‘Down!'

Once again Gabe pushed his legs from under him. The dog folded.

‘Good dog,' Nikki said, holding him down and the dog's tail gave a tentative, subjugated wag.

‘Once more.'

‘Down!' And this time Gabe didn't have to push. The dog crouched and rolled with only a slight push and pull from Nikki.

‘Good dog. Great,' Nikki said and her voice wobbled.

The dog stood again, unsure, but this time he moved imperceptibly to Nikki's side. He looked up at her instead of out to sea.

‘Now tell him to come and tug,' Gabe said, and Nikki did and the big dog moved docilely up the beach by her side.

‘Good dog,' Nikki said and sniffed.

‘Why are you crying?'

‘I'm not.'

‘You're allergic to command?'

‘I'm not built to be a sergeant major.'

‘Horse needs a sergeant major,' he said as he fell in beside her. ‘You are what you have to be. Like me being owner of half a dozen boats, employing crews.'

‘You don't like that?'

They were walking up the track, Nikki with Horse beside her, Gabe with his hand hovering, just in case Horse made a break for it. But Horse was totally submissive. He was probably relieved. He'd spent too long as it was waiting for his scumbag owner. He needed a new one.

There were parallels. Caring for Horse…

Taking on this town's fishing fleet.

Nikki was waiting for an answer. Not pushing. Just walking steadily up the track with her dog.

She was a peaceful woman, he thought. Self contained. Maybe she'd had to be.

Why the sniff? Tears?

Ignore them.

‘I never saw myself as head of a fleet,' he told her. ‘But when the fishing industry round here started to falter I was single with no responsibilities. I'd been away, working on the rigs, making myself some serious money. I could afford to take a few risks. But in the end I didn't need to. Fishing's in my blood and I knew what'd work.'

‘But now… You enjoy it?'

‘Fishing's my life.'

‘It sounds boring.'

‘So you do what in your spare time?' he demanded. ‘Macramé?

‘Dog training,' she said steadily. ‘I now have a career and a hobby and a pet. What more could a girl want? What do you have, Gabe Carver?'

‘Everything I want.'

They reached the house in silence. Reached the porch. Nikki opened the door and ushered Horse inside. Hesitated.

‘He'll stand at the door and howl,' she said, and he looked at her face and saw the tracks of tears. What had he said to upset her?

‘Only if you let him.'

‘How do I not let him?'

He sighed. ‘Where's he sleeping?'

‘In my bedroom.'

‘Not on your bed. You're pack leader.'

‘I know that much. Besides, the bed's not big enough.'

‘So show me.'

She swung open the bedroom door. A bed, single, small. He looked at her in surprise. He hadn't been here when her furniture was delivered so he was seeing this for the first time. It was practically a child's bed.

‘You don't like stretching?'

‘Not if there's no one to stretch to.'

Silence. There were a million things to say, but suddenly nothing.

The bedroom was chintzy. Pretty pink. Dainty. It made a man nervous just to look at it.

Horse whined and he thought
I'm with you, mate
. To sleep in a bedroom like this…

But at least Horse had a sensible bed. Henrietta knew dogs, and she'd provided a trampoline bed that was almost as big as Nikki's.

‘Say “Bed”,' he told Nikki.

‘Bed.' Horse didn't move an inch.

Gabe sighed. ‘Bail the dratted boat.'

‘Bed!'
That was better. Sergeant major stuff.

Gabe shoved Horse from behind. Horse lumbered up onto the trampoline.

‘Say “Down.”'

‘Down,' Nikki said and the dog rolled.

‘Stay,' Nikki said and stepped back and grinned as Horse did just that.

Horse looked up at her and put a tentative paw down onto the floor.

‘Stay!' Her best ‘bail the boat' voice.

The paw retreated.

‘How about that?' Nikki said, her smile widening. ‘I'm a pack leader.'

‘You'll make a great one.'

‘I will,' she said and turned to him. Fast.

She was suddenly a bit too close.

She was suddenly very close.

‘Make sure the dog stays there,' he said, a bit too gruffly. They were by the dog's bed, so close they were almost touching. They were by Nikki's bed as well. It was just as well it wasn't his bed, he thought, the wide, firm, king-sized bed he'd bought for himself when he'd come back here to live.

He had a sudden flash of recall. Last night. Nikki tiptoeing in to check he wasn't dead, leaning over him…

He could have…

No.

But she was so close. He turned to go—a man had to make a move—but suddenly she'd taken his hands in hers, tugging him back to face her.

‘Thank you,' she said. ‘For coming down to the beach to find me.'

‘You're welcome.' He hadn't gone down to find her, he
thought, but he wasn't thinking clearly and it seemed way too much trouble to explain.

‘And I can see why you don't want to get involved. I won't ask you to. I've been a nuisance. But I meant well. I mean well.'

‘You do.' Big of him to concede that much.

‘And your head really is better?'

‘Not hurting at all.' Almost the truth.

She smiled. It was a really cute smile, he thought. He could see the tracks of those unexplained tears and it made her seem cuter. All in all…

All in all, Nikki Morrissy was really cute all over.

‘Goodnight,' she said and then, inexplicably, unaccountably, she stood on tiptoe and she kissed him. Lightly, a feather-touch. Maybe she'd even meant it to be an air-kiss but he moved. Maybe he tugged her a bit closer and her lips brushed his.

Burned.

She pulled back, startled. Which was how he felt. Startled.

To say the least.

‘Just…thank you,' she said. Struggled for words. Struggled to find something to talk about other than the kiss. ‘And…and I'm so sorry your dog died. Jem must have been amazing.'

‘She was.'

‘You want to tell me about her?' she said but there were limits, even if she was looking at him with eyes that'd melt an iceberg.

She was his tenant.
His tenant.

He'd helped her as much as he could.

‘Goodnight,' he said and backed to the door.

‘I didn't mean to kiss you,' she murmured, but he hardly heard her.

A man had to take a stand some time. A man had to know when to retreat.

He retreated.

T
HERE
was no reason to get up. The sensation was so novel it had Gabe lying in bed at five in the morning thinking the world was off balance.

All but one of his boats were out. They'd left in a group yesterday morning and weren't due back until tomorrow. The one stuck in harbour through lack of crew—the
Lady Nell
—was the one needing least attention. The propeller was checked. The cray-pots were mended.

Even his dratted bookwork was up to date.

He could sleep until midday if he wanted.

He didn't want. His world was out of kilter.

Because of lack of work?

Because of Nikki.

Because she'd kissed him?

Because she'd touched him with her crazy floundering from assertive career woman to a woman who was exposed on all sides.

She'd taken in a dog as big as she was. She'd given her heart and in doing so… She'd pierced a part of him he'd protected with care for years.

And he didn't want it pierced. He had to close it off again fast, but the fact that she was living right through the wall was enough to do his head in.

He could evict her. Because of the dog?

He was turning into his father.

His window was wide open. From where he lay he could see the gap in the stone fence. He thought of Nikki's face as he'd yelled.

He'd hurt her.

Last night she'd cried and he didn't know why.

The wall was there, looking at him, as it had looked at Nikki.

He climbed out of bed and went to get his mother's books. Went back to bed. He read for an hour.

Looked at the wall.

The thought of picking up those stones, taking up where his mother had left off…

How could he do that?

How could he start again?

His mother. Lisbette. Jem. Pain at every turn.

He thought of the appalling time after Lisbette left. Realising that all she'd said had been lies. Realising the extent of what she'd stolen from him.

After Lisbette, he'd taken Jem and headed west, where his experience landed him a job on a rig supply boat. Jem was included—he was a package deal, employ me, my dog comes too. But it was no problem. Jem loved their life at sea and Gabe was good. Within a year he was captaining his own boat. He could get stuff to the rigs in weather no one else would face.

He worked hard. Crew came and went. Jem was his only constant.

The protective layer he'd built around himself grew thicker. He was okay.

Moving back here… That'd been a risk, but he'd heard stories of the trouble with the fleet. Maybe the loneliness had got to him. It wouldn't hurt to help the people who'd once been good to him; who'd tried in their way to stand between him and his father.

And that was okay, too. By the time he came home the house had lost the worst of its memories. Only the shades of his mother remained.

He'd been able to step in and maintain his distance. He and Jem.

Now, just him.

And Nikki and Horse.

Who made him think of finishing the wall…

He did not need them interfering with his solitary lifestyle.

He tossed the books aside. Pulled on his fishing gear. He'd head to the harbour.

He had to get out of here.

He had to get away from Nikki?

Away from the thought of letting down some of his carefully built defences. How could a man ever do that? And why would he want to?

 

Nikki and Horse sat on the wharf, watched the seagulls and watched the early morning sun glinting over the distant sea.

The harbour was deserted. Most of the boats were out. The only ones left were pleasure craft and the tenders used to take owners out to bigger boats at swing moorings.

Swing moorings. Tenders. She smiled to herself. She'd only been here three weeks and already she was learning the local lingo.

‘Do you know it already?' she asked Horse. ‘Were you a fishing dog?'

Horse was subdued but pliant. He'd woken at first light and whined. Nikki had taken him outside. He'd done what he needed to do and then looked longingly towards the beach.

‘No,' Nikki told him in her best Leader-Of-The-Pack voice and hauled him back inside. She cooked bacon and eggs for breakfast and shared. She was fed up with Dinners For One and it was fun to cook for an appreciative appetite. Horse wolfed the bacon and nuzzled her hand in what seemed like gratitude, but then he whined and looked at the door again.

He was torn between two loyalties. Lady with the bacon or the sod who'd abandoned him.

‘Choose me,' Nikki said but Horse still whined.

She needed displacement activity.

So here they were, sitting on the jetty, trying not to stare at the only decent boat in port.

Gabe's boat. The
Lady Nell
.

Big and powerful and workmanlike. Like Gabe himself.

He'd made her cry.

Not…not him, she thought. It was the mixture of all sorts of stuff.

For the last two months she'd been caught up in her own drama, her own betrayal. But so much more had happened to Gabe.

He didn't want sympathy. There was no way he'd take it, but the touch of his mouth on hers…

It made her want to take him and hold, tell him the world wasn't such a bad place; there were decent people, people who could love…

He didn't want to hear it. Neither did she.

Was she still in love with Jon?

If Jon appeared in front of her right now, told her his marriage was over, had been over for years, it had all been a misunderstanding, would she go back to him?

It was doing her head in.

She was sitting on the wharf letting her head implode.

It was still really early. Six-thirty. Uncivilised. What was she doing here?

Horse whined and turned and jerked on his lead and Nikki swivelled to see. Gabe was striding along the jetty.

Dressed for work. Fisherman's overalls with braces. Rubber boots. His shirt sleeves were once more rolled to above the elbow.

Striding purposely towards his boat, seeing her, stopping dead.

‘Nikki,' he said in a tone that said she was the last person he wanted here. She flinched but Horse surged forward and was
too strong for her to hold. Henrietta had provided her with a choke chain—to be used ‘just for the first week or so because he's so big and there's nothing of you'—but there was no way she was using it. So Horse hauled and she followed.

Feeling foolish.

His expression said she ought to hike out of here fast, taking her dog with her.

‘H…Hi,' she managed as Horse reached him and attempted to jump. Gabe caught the dog's legs, placed him firmly down.

‘Sit,' he growled and Horse sat. ‘Hey,' Gabe said, unable to hide pleasure. ‘He must have had some training.'

‘I'm worried someone's looking for him,' she ventured. It seemed as good a way as any to start a conversation with someone who obviously wanted her somewhere else.

‘Henrietta kept him for ten days. Raff, our local cop, broadcast his details to every cop, to every marine outfit, to every fisherman within two hundred miles up and down the coast. He was found with no collar and evidence of severe neglect. There's no suggestion there of a happy ending.'

‘Well, he has one with me,' she snapped, because he was looking at her as if…she was stupid. Dumb for offering this dog a home?

‘You can't hold him,' he said mildly and she flushed. Maybe she was reading more into his words than he intended but she was keeping this dog, regardless of what her tough-guy landlord thought.

‘Henrietta gave me a choke chain. I tried it on myself. That's exactly what it does—choke. There's no way I'm putting it on Horse.'

‘You tried it on yourself…?'

‘It's awful. You tug on it, you think you're choking.'

‘You only use it while you're training.'

‘Did you use one on Jem?'

‘I got Jem as a pup. And I'm bigger than you.'

‘I do weights,' she said, glaring. ‘If I want to stop Horse, I can.'

He nodded. Grinned. Walked the few steps to his boat and leaped aboard. Disappeared into the wheelhouse and came out holding…what?

A chunk of salami.

He walked back to Horse, showed him the sausage, let him sniff, backed off and called. Waving the salami.

‘Here, boy. Nice sausage. Come and get it.'

Horse lunged forward.

Nikki held with all the power she possessed and yelled with all the power in her lungs. ‘No!'

She wrenched Horse back, then dived in front of him so she was a barrier between dog and sausage. She planted her feet.

‘Sit,' she said in a voice she didn't know she had.

Horse sat.

Wow.

She looked down at the dog, at his great goofy desperate-to-please expression, and once again she wanted to cry.

She glanced back at Gabe and caught an expression on his face that was almost similar. ‘Wow!' His echo of her thought was so pat she found herself grinning.

‘We've been practising all night,' she lied smugly, bending down and hugging Horse. ‘Good dog. Great dog.'

She straightened, still grinning—and Horse surged forward to Gabe and grabbed the sausage.

She burst out laughing. Horse wolfed the sausage in two gulps, returned to her side and sat like a benign angel. Obedience personified.

‘I think I'm in love,' Nikki said and knew she was.

‘You've made a good start,' Gabe conceded.

‘I…are you going fishing?' Stupid question. He was dressed for fishing.

‘Just checking pots.'

‘Pots?'

‘I have cray-pots laid along the coast. I don't have a crew but I can do that myself.'

‘You're taking your boat out by yourself?'

‘Yes.' He swung himself on board and unlocked the wheelhouse. ‘I'll be back this afternoon.'

‘What about your head?'

‘It's fine.'

‘I read on the Internet. Forty-eight hours after concussion…'

‘You're not still expecting me to drop dead?'

‘I keep feeling that crunch,' she said miserably. ‘And the side of your face looks awful.'

It did, he conceded. He'd looked in the mirror to shave and pretty near died of fright.

‘I'm fine,' he said.

‘Please don't go fishing alone.'

What else was he expected to do? ‘There's no one else to go fishing with,' he said explosively. ‘Since you sent the rest of my crew out without me.'

‘I meant it for the best. You can't go out.'

‘You're going to stop me how?'

She took a deep breath. She collared Horse and she tugged him forward.

Horse reacted almost too well. He leapt the gap between wharf and boat, and Nikki was hauled after.

She caught her foot on the safety line and sprawled. Gabe reached her before she slid into the water. Tugged her up so she was standing on the deck beside him.

Held her.

‘What sort of crazy stunt…? You could drown yourself.'

‘I'm an excellent swimmer,' she managed, gasping, hauling herself back from him. She felt winded and stupid, and the feel of those arms… They had a girl thoroughly discombobulated. ‘And if I hadn't fallen over Horse…'

‘Anyone would fall over Horse,' he said grimly, and turned to see Horse heading along to the bow, standing there like a
figurehead on a bowsprit. Any minute now he'd raise one paw and lean into the wind.

‘He's used to boats,' he said.

‘He needs to be used to boats,' she said. ‘We're staying on board until you see sense. Your crew will be back tomorrow. It won't kill you to stay on land.'

‘I want to check my cray-pots.'

‘Then take someone with you.'

He glared. She crossed her arms and jutted her jaw. Tree-hugger chaining herself to a mighty oak. Or ship.

He sighed. He slipped into the wheelhouse and started the engine. Strode aft and released the rear stay. Strode forward—and their connection to the wharf was gone.

She gasped. ‘What…?'

‘You want me to have company?' Gabe snapped. ‘Fine. Make yourself at home and stay out of my way.'

 

When tree-huggers chained themselves to trees they didn't expect their trees to get up and walk. Or get up and sail out of the harbour.

Uh-oh. Uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh.

There was a twenty-yard gap between wharf and boat. Should she jump off and swim for it?

Dragging Horse behind her?

Horse was still doing his merman impersonation at the bow. His nose was pointing into the wind, every sense quivering.

Yesterday he'd looked half dead. Now…he almost looked beautiful. If you looked past the mangy coat.

Coat.

She was wearing a light pullover. Cotton. She glanced at Gabe, who was intent behind the wheel, ignoring her. He was in his weatherproofs, dressed for work.

Her pullover was pale pink. Her jeans were a soft blue.

She was wearing her Gucci loafers.

Hardly fishing gear.

‘There's a jetty at the harbour mouth,' Gabe growled, seemingly intent on keeping the wheel steady. ‘I'll put you off there.'

‘You've done this to frighten me.'

‘I've done this because I have work to do,' he snapped. ‘You're in the way.'

‘I'm not in the way,' she muttered. ‘It's a big boat.'

‘You don't seriously want to come to sea with me?'

Deep breath. Resolution. ‘If you're stupid enough to want to take the boat out by yourself, then yes, I do,' she said. ‘It was me who hit you. I feel responsible. If someone else hit you, you'd be welcome to be as stupid as you want. I wouldn't care.'

‘You don't have to care.'

‘I told you. I hit you, I don't have a choice.'

‘Get off at the jetty.'

‘No.' Back to tree-hugging. She was not, however, sounding as sure as she might have been.