Page 3 of A Home Among the Snow Gums
It was. A new client, who she’d met last month after an escape attempt through rusty barbed wire led to an intervention involving pliers and a tetanus jab. The owner was currently on the list Sandy, the clinic receptionist, had taped to the wall above the photocopier in the back office with the heading CAUTION: HASN’TPAIDVETFEES.
‘Millie,’ Hannah called. ‘Millie! Come!’
The dog stopped. Its shaggy body was heaving and its face wore the pop-eyed look that she didn’t need a vet degree to know meant it was terrified. Fireworks. The border terrier wouldn’t be the only dog in town currently being sent loopy by the noise, but hopefully she was the only one who had done a runner.
Ignoring the drinks that were now lined up on the counter, Hannah took off after the dog, who had bounded past a stand selling sparklers and glow-in-the-dark bracelets and was on a trajectory to crash headlong into a woman who had a baby on her hip and a kid swinging from her hand.
‘Millie!’ Hannah called again and lunged forward to put her boot on the trailing lead.
Just as she landed on it, a large figure loomed in the corner of her eye from the far side of the sparklers’ stand. Their boot landed smack bang on top of hers.
‘Oof,’ she said, fighting to recover her balance, while a hand (most definitelynothers) landed on her rump and set her upright.
‘Sorry,’ said a deep voice in her ear that was delicious and totally irritating all at the same time, and which eroded every thought in her head other thanBloody Tom Krauss.Even the pulverised toes in her left boot forgot they were in pain.
‘It’s gonna bite me! It’s gonna bite me real bad!’ wailed a high-pitched voice.
‘I’ll get the dog,’ said Tom.
Bossy and dictatorial as ever. She shot a look up at his face and—yes, damn it—he hadn’t grown ugly since she last saw him, which was bloody selfish of him. Uglying himself up a little was the least he could do after the way he—
Well. No need to dwell on The Incident. That was in the past, but for the love of god, why couldn’t he just stay up the mountain so she didn’t have to feel this weirdthingevery time she saw him? And, hang on just a darned minute,shewas the animal professional in the vicinity.
‘I’llget the dog,’ she said. ‘I’ll have the owner’s number back at the clini—’
Too late, Tom was hauling in the uncooperative dog like he was reeling in a marlin. Hannah turned to the mother, who was attempting to bend down to the boy. The little bloke’s knee was skinned and he was sitting on the grass having himself a good noisy cry.
‘You okay?’ Hannah said to the mum.
‘Do I look okay?’ said the woman, who seemed as flustered as Hannah felt, although for different (she assumed) reasons. She was a local, Hannah knew her face, but she couldn’t place her. ‘Here, take Margot, will you?’
And before Hannah knew what was what, she’d been given a baby.
‘Oh, I’m not sure I know how to look after your kid—’ She stopped talking as the baby put up a hand the size of a cat’s paw and patted her cheek with it. That was kind of sweet. She did an experimental sway from side to side, the way she did when she had a fractious pup on her hands who was objecting to being separated from its mastitisinflamed mother. The baby gurgled, which was also sweet, and way nicer to listen to than the wails coming from the bigger kid.
She looked over at Tom. He had somehow managed to get the naughty dog to sit down beside the toddler, and he’d lowered himself onto one of the copper log barriers that demarked the carpark from the foreshore.
He wore a faded plaid shirt and well broken-in jeans and his hair had grown out since she’d last seen him. He was blonder. Thinner. Paler. He also looked annoyingly adorable, perched on the rail next to the kid and the dog.
‘You need to learn to keep a hold of your dog, mate,’ said the mother, who was patting the kid’s bloody knee with a tissue that she had just—OMG—spat on. Really, did the general populace know nothing about germs?
‘I’m not the owner,’ Tom said, but he wasn’t paying much attention to the mother. ‘Hey, kid, what’s your name?’
The kid stopped wailing like he had an on/off switch. ‘Barney.’
‘You want to pat the dog, Barney? She’s being good now.’
‘She knocked me over.’
‘That’s because she was scared before, like you were. Now she wants to make it all better.’
Hmm. Tom was handling the kid crisis. Well, he could handle the lost dog, too, and with a bit of luck, she’d be long gone from the beach before he returned from tracking down the owner.
‘You see that man?’ she said into the baby’s tiny ear like she was sharing a secret—which, in fact, she was. ‘The hottie with the scruffy cheeks and the blue, blue eyes? Well, him and me in the same place is bad news.’
The baby burped and it sounded like a question. Who knew babies were such excellent confidants?
‘He cuts up my serenity,’ she said. ‘And I’m too chicken to ask myself why.’
