If they became her tenants he’d share Ketchup. Ketchup would be on Bailey’s bed in no time. Kid and dog. Perfect fit.
Their house was truly appalling. Bailey’s suggestion was even sensible.
If only she could ignore Nicholas.
She was a grown woman. Could a grown woman get her hormones under control enough to consider a sensible plan?
Surely she could.
Misty set the whole thing in front of Gran, and Gran considered it. Misty knew she did. Gran did a lot of considering these days.
Gran’s eyes were closed tonight but, when Misty settled Ketchup on her bedclothes, against Gran’s hand, she saw Gran’s fingers move against his furry coat. Just a little, convulsively, as if she was remembering something she’d forgotten.
Gran loved dogs.
Love was a dangerous concept, Misty thought. She’d fallen for Ketchup, she was falling for Bailey, and where were her plans now? In a muddle, that was where.
‘I shouldn’t have agreed to keep Ketchup.’
Gran’s fingers moved again.
‘You’re a soft touch, too. We both are.’ She lifted Gran’s spare hand to her cheek. ‘Oh, Gran, this is dumb. I have fallen for Ketchup, and I would like someone living in the other side of my house. Bailey needs a good place to live and it’s sensible. It’s just…Nick touched me. I’m scared I’ll get involved and I want to be free. But free’s not an option. I’m being dumb.’
She had to let her plans go.
She already had, she thought, or she almost had, the moment she’d fallen for Ketchup. And maybe letting her plans go was her only option.
Six months ago, the doctors had told her Gran had weeks to live. But Gran was still here, and there was no thought of her dying. And in the end… How could Misty possibly dream of a future with Gran not here?
Ketchup was deeply asleep now. He’d had a huge day for an injured dog. She should have him at home, right now.
‘It’s okay to live alone,’ she told her grandmother. ‘I don’t need anyone to help me care for Ketchup, and I don’t need complications.’
Gran’s hand slid sideways. The tiny moment of awareness was gone.
Misty’s thoughts telescoped, out of frame. To a future without Gran?
She’d thought of what she’d do when Gran was gone, but now…Gran was here but not here, and she could well be like this for years.
The future looked terrifying. Living in that great house alone. Never leaving this town.
What to do?
Since Gran’s first stroke she’d been trying to plan, trying to figure her future. But in truth she’d been planning since before she could remember. Making lists.
Maybe she should stop planning and just…be.
She wouldn’t mind Nicholas and his little son living next door. It wasn’t exactly a bleak thought.
She wouldn’t need to rush home to feed Ketchup on nights when she had to stay back at school.
That was a sensible thought.
And then… Another sensible thought. The resurgence of the dream.
‘You know, if anything happened to Gran,’ she told Ketchup as she settled him back into her car. ‘Just saying… If it did, and if Nicholas and Bailey were living in my house… They could look after you while I tried out a yurt. Just for a while.’
Yes. Her dream re-emerged, dusted itself off, settled back into the corner of her mind, where it had been a comfort for years.
‘You’re making me realign my existence,’ she told Ketchup. ‘Two days ago, I was alone. What are you doing with my life?’
Ketchup looked at her and shifted his tail, just a little, but enough to make her smile. She did want this dog.
‘Maybe you’re my nemesis,’ she told him. ‘I thought Gran’s death would be the thing that changed my life. Maybe it’s you.’
She bent over to hug him and got a lick for her pains.
‘Enough.’ She chuckled. ‘I’m not used to kisses.’
A kiss. A touch? She was thinking again of Nick’s hand on hers. The strength of his fingers. The warmth of skin against skin.
Ketchup wasn’t her only nemesis. There was something about Nicholas that was messing with her plans in a far bigger way. In a way that was much more threatening.
She had to be sensible, she told herself. She had a dog and a grandmother and a house that was too big for her. And if there was something about Nicholas that scared her…
Yep, she just had to be sensible.
He’d agreed to get a dog.
Bailey had gone to sleep planning dog kennels. Tomorrow they’d build a kennel and they’d start to make this place habitable. They were settled. Here.
He’d leased this place for three months. He’d find somewhere else after that, maybe near the school. It’d be okay.
He and Bailey and dog-a young healthy dog-could live happily ever after.
So what was there in that to make him stare up at the ceiling and think…and think…?
And think of Misty.
She tossed the concept around all night and in the morning there was only one answer.
So ask him. Now, before she chickened out.
She didn’t have Nick’s cellphone number. She could go into school and fetch his parent file, only she’d have to drive past his house to get it. Which was stupid. Cowardly, even.
Ketchup was deeply asleep. She’d had him in a basket beside her bed all night. At dawn he’d stirred. She’d taken him outside and he’d smelled the sea and sniffed the grass. He looked a hundred per cent on yesterday. She’d cuddled him and cooked them both breakfast. He’d eaten two bacon rashers and half a cup of dog food and returned to his basket.
He was now fast asleep on Gran’s old woollen cardigan and he didn’t look as if he’d stir any time soon.
Unlike Misty, who was stirring so much she felt as if she was going nuts.
It was eight o’clock. The world must surely be awake.
So ask him now.
He heard the knock as he stood under the shower. Which was cold. The hot water service gave exactly thirty seconds of tepid water. ‘Bailey…’
‘I heard,’ Bailey yelled, sounding excited, which was pretty much how he’d sounded since Nick had said the D word last night.
‘Don’t answer it.’ He groped for his towel, swearing under his breath. It could be anyone out there. Do not take risks.
‘Bailey, don’t…’ he yelled again but it was too late. There was a whoop of pleasure from the hall.
‘It’s Miss Lawrence. Dad, it’s Miss Lawrence. She’s come to visit.’
Bailey was still in his pyjamas, clutching his teddy, rumpled from sleep. He was beaming with pleasure to see her. He looked adorable.
He also looked big with news. He was jiggling up and down, stammering with excitement.
‘I’m getting a dog,’ he told her before she could say a word, and she blinked in astonishment.
‘A what?’
‘A dog.’ He did another jig. ‘We’ve talked about it. I think we should look at the lost dogs’ home ’cos Dad says Ketchup was from the dogs’ home and he’s good. But I want a dog who can run. Dad says I can choose but he can’t be old. And he can’t be sick. We’re going to build a dog kennel, only Dad says he doesn’t know if we can buy wood and stuff on Sunday.’
His joy was enough to make the hardest heart melt, and Misty’s wasn’t all that hard to start with. A dog of his own…
This little boy had lost his mother in dreadful circumstances. His only friend was his father. But now… To have his own dog…
‘That’s…’ But she never got to answer.
Nick strode from the bathroom, snapping orders. ‘Bailey, don’t answer the door to strangers…’
He was wearing nothing but boxers.
Misty was a woman with sound feminist principles. She didn’t gasp. She didn’t even let her knees buckle, which she discovered they were more than willing to do. Women with feminist principles did not gasp at the sight of near naked men. Nor did they allow their knees to buckle, even if they wanted to.