But in her silence Nick had been thinking. ‘It could work well,’ he said slowly. ‘We can share Ketchup.’
Here was an echo of her thoughts. ‘Share?’
‘I told Bailey if we didn’t move into your house we’d get a dog.’
‘Dad…’ Bailey said, unsure.
‘We don’t need our own dog if we have Ketchup,’ Nick said. And all the colour went from Bailey’s face, just like that. All the joy. He’d opened the door for Misty looking puffed up like a peacock, a six-year-old with all the pleasure in the world before him.
Right now, he looked as if he’d been slapped.
‘But you said,’ Bailey whispered. Nick had seen Bailey’s colour fade. In two strides he was beside him, lifting him up into his arms. Holding him close. ‘Don’t you want to stay with Miss Lawrence and Ketchup?’ he asked.
‘Yes, but I want a dog of my very own,’ Bailey whispered.
‘We don’t need…’ Nick started but Misty shook her head. She’d looked at Bailey and thought yes, he does. He does need a dog of his own.
Sharing wouldn’t cut it.
Misty had had a solitary childhood, living out of town with her elderly, invalid grandparents. Her dogs had meant everything to her.
Last night she’d seen an echo of that. Noses on the beach. Ketchup.
Bailey was a great kid. She knew him well enough to realise he’d take great care of a dog.
So say it.
‘What if I give you Ketchup?’ she said, and both guys looked at her as if she’d just declared she was selling her grandmother.
‘But Ketchup’s yours,’ Bailey whispered, appalled. ‘He knows he is. He told me.’
‘I’ve only just got him,’ Misty said gently. ‘He doesn’t really know me. You and Ketchup had a wonderful game on the beach last night.’
‘I want my dog and Ketchup to be friends.’
And Nick obviously had qualms as well, but they were different qualms. ‘The vet says Ketchup’s close to ten years old,’ he said.
Now it was Misty’s turn to look at Nick as if he was selling his grandmother.
‘So?’
‘So he’ll…’
‘He’ll what?’ she said dangerously.
‘If we must get a dog, we’ll get a young one. Ketchup will cause you grief.’
‘Everyone causes you grief,’ she said. ‘That’s what loving’s about. Like you. You love Bailey so you promised him a dog.’
‘I didn’t actually promise.’
‘You did,’ Bailey said and buried his face in his father’s shoulder.
‘I believe I said if we didn’t live with Miss Lawrence.’
His explanation didn’t help at all. Bailey’s sob was truly heart-rending-and Nicholas looked at her as if she’d personally caused this.
Enough. This was crazy. She was starting to feel as if she was causing nothing but heartache.
The sight of Nick hugging Bailey was doing weird things to her. Nick with his gorgeous body. Nick with the way he loved his son.
And Bailey? Somehow this small boy had managed to twist his way right around her heart.
Bailey’s pyjama sleeve was hitched up as he clung round his father’s neck. She could see the savage mark of the bullet, and the scars from the surgery after.
She was messing with Bailey by being here, she decided. Nick had had this sorted, and now she’d come in with an offer that was messing with Bailey’s dreams.
Nick would find somewhere else to live. She didn’t actually need these two guys in her house. Not if it messed with dreams.
‘I believe I need to rescind,’ she said before she could think it through any further.
‘Sorry?’ Nick sounded stunned.
‘My offer is withdrawn.’ She took a deep breath and met his gaze square on. ‘Bailey needs a dog.’
‘Not if he gets to share yours.’
‘He’s not sharing mine. I no longer want you as tenants. Not if it means Bailey misses out on a dog of his own.’
Once again, that look as if she had two heads. ‘This is ridiculous.’
‘It is,’ she said, but then she thought that it wasn’t. She thought of the white-faced little boy on Friday night, grabbing his teddy as soon as he got home. She thought of him last night on the beach, touching noses with Ketchup.
A dog of his own would be perfect.
But Nick’s face…
How had this happened? He was stuck if he did, and stuck if he didn’t.
So help him out. Make his decision for him. She’d always fought for her students’ needs. For Bailey, there was never going to be a better time to fight than right now.
‘So you’re saying…’ Nicholas said slowly.
‘That I’m no longer offering you my house. Unless,’ she said softly, watching Bailey, ‘Bailey has his own dog.’
Nick’s face turned to thunder.
‘Henrietta Farnsworth runs the Animal Welfare,’ she said, briskly efficient now she saw her way. Or Nick’s way. ‘It’s only open weekdays, but on Sundays she feeds and cleans at eleven. You could go choose a dog and then accept my very kind offer by midday.’
‘This is blackmail.’ Nick’s growl was truly menacing, but Bailey had turned to look at her and his look strengthened her resolve. She grinned at Bailey and she winked.
‘I agree with Bailey. He needs his own dog.’
‘Dogs cause you grief. I don’t want Bailey to face that kind of hurt.’
‘You’re saying you won’t get a dog because eventually you might lose him? What sort of argument is that? You’re living in the country now. Country kids know about birth and death. Natalie’s dad’s cow lost one of her twins yesterday. Natalie will tell everyone all the gory details on Monday morning. It’s sad but it happens. You can’t shield Bailey for ever. Choose a young dog and take your chances.’
Silence. She let the silence run.
Nick set Bailey down and Bailey had the sense to remain silent. Nick raked his fingers through his hair again. She’d first noticed him doing it yesterday, when he was drawing his plans for her yurt. His long strong fingers, running through thick wavy hair, had made her feel… Was making her feel…
Uh oh. Let’s not go there.
But she was there. Maybe this man was going to live just through the wall from her.
She shivered, but not with cold.
But he was still coming at her with arguments. ‘I didn’t mean to promise Bailey a dog,’ he started.
She was ready for him this time, growing firmer. ‘Yes, you did or you wouldn’t have said it.’
‘It was a rash moment.’
‘You’ll love a dog. You saw Ketchup and Bailey together. You’ll both love a dog.’
‘But Ketchup’s recuperating.’ He was starting to sound helpless. Helpless and sexy. It seemed an incredibly appealing, incredibly masculine combination.
Stop it. She was a respectable schoolteacher, she told herself. She was a potential landlady. Listen to what he’s saying.
‘Ketchup doesn’t need company.’ His arguments were getting weaker.
‘Ketchup doesn’t need a rough companion,’ she agreed. ‘Or not at first. But we can keep them separate. Like you and I will be separate. I want tenants, not friends.’
‘Really?’
She drew her breath in on that one. Really?
‘We can meet on the veranda occasionally,’ she conceded.
‘And Bailey can play with Ketchup,’ he said, fast. ‘See, he doesn’t need a dog of his own.’
‘I do,’ Bailey said.
‘He does,’ she said. ‘But this is no longer my call. Talk to your son about it. I’m happy to welcome you, your son and your dog into my house, or I’m happy to continue living alone. I need to check on Ketchup. Let me know.’
Enough. She’d thrown her hat into the ring.
Now it was up to him.
‘Up to you,’ she said and she turned and walked back down the veranda steps and drove away.
What had she done?
Nicholas Holt had just backed himself into a very small corner.
Maybe he’d be angry. Maybe he’d decide that yes, he’d buy a dog, but they wouldn’t move into her place. If he thought she was a blackmailer, they just might.