Nikki and the Lone Wolf / Mardie and the City Surgeon: Nikki and the Lone Wolf / Mardie and the City Surgeon. Marion Lennox
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the porch. Her Hound of the Baskervilles. Horse.
CHAPTER THREE
NIKKI almost tripped and so did Gabe. They were focused on each other. Gabe’s face was dark with anger, and Nikki was just plain terrified. Gabe was still only wearing boxers and that didn’t help. Neither was looking at their feet and the dog was sprawled like a great wet floor mat.
Both of them stumbled and both had to grab the door jambs to keep their balance.
Both stared down in amazement.
The dog was even bigger than Nikki had thought last night. Four feet high? It was impossible to tell. All she knew was that, prone, he practically covered the small porch.
He was almost as flat as a doormat. He lay motionless, only the faint rise of his chest wall telling her he was alive.
‘It’s Horse,’ she said blankly.
The big dog stirred at her voice. He hauled his great head off the floor, as if making a Herculean effort. He gazed up at her and all the misery of the world was in that gaze. It was a ‘kill me now’ look.
She didn’t know a thing about dogs. If she’d been asked, she’d confess she probably didn’t like them much. But that look …
Her heart twisted. In the face of that look, she forgot her landlord and she sank to her knees. ‘Oh, my … Oh, Horse …’
‘What do you think you’re playing at?’ Her landlord’s voice was like a whip above her. ‘You’ve brought him in here …’
She wasn’t listening. The big dog was so wet he couldn’t get any wetter. While she watched, a shudder ran though his big frame and she thought … she thought …
She had to help. There was no way she could walk away. Not your problem? Ha.
‘Hey, it’s okay.’ She ignored Gabe. She could only focus on the dog. She could only think about the dog.
‘You caught him.’ Gabe’s voice had lost its edge as he took in Horse’s condition.
‘I didn’t catch him. Maybe he found the meat and followed our scent. Pushed into the porch. Do you think he wants more?’
‘Has he been here all night?’
‘Are you nuts? Look at him. He’s soaking. Why doesn’t he move? Should we take him to the vet? Will you help me carry him to the car?’
‘Fred will put him down,’ Gable said bluntly.
‘Fred?’
‘The vet.’
That brought her up short. Last night’s phone conversation was suddenly replaying in her head.
This dog had been on his way to be put down when he’d escaped. If they took him to the vet, that was what would happen.
‘No,’ she said. It was all she could think of to say.
‘Do you want a dog?’
‘I …’
She swallowed. Did she want a dog?
She didn’t. She couldn’t. But she wasn’t thinking past now.
‘I’ll think about that later,’ she said. ‘He’s not going anywhere until he’s dry and warm and fed. Can you help me take him into my place?’ She looked up at Gabe, and then she thought …
Anger. Uh-oh.
Maybe there were a few unresolved issues to be addressed before he’d help her.
She was aware again of his body. That chest. Those shoulders.
Hormones.
Anger.
‘I slept,’ he said, carefully neutral. ‘Through my alarm. That might be because it was moved from my bedside table.’
‘I slept through it too,’ she confessed. ‘That’s because I forgot to set it.’
‘My crew …’
Act efficient, she decided. Brisk. As if she knew what she was doing. ‘Hattie’s on the … let me think … on the Mariette,’ she told him. ‘Because they’re short a crew member. Frank called in sick so the Lady Nell’s staying in port. You have the day off.’
He didn’t answer. He looked speechless.
‘So can you help me with the dog?’ she asked.
‘You took my alarm.’
‘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