But the dog quivered against her, huddling tight, as if he was desperate for the poor amount of warmth she could provide. His eyes were pools of limpid despair.

He looked at her.

NYP. NYP.

Since when had anything ever been Not Her Problem? There was no way this dog was going back to one of the Welfare cages.

She did not need a dog. She did not!

But in her arms the dog quivered and huddled closer. She felt the silkiness of his ears. She could feel his heart, beating so fast… He was so afraid. He was totally at the mercy of the decision she made right now.

And, with that thought, her vow to leave dogs behind disintegrated to nothing.

What were dreams, anyway?

‘Mr Holt, I need your help,’ she said, attempting to sound like a teacher in control of the situation.

‘Yes,’ he said, sounding cautious. As well he might.

‘I can’t leave the children,’ she said. ‘This dog needs to go to the vet. That’s what happens with sick dogs, doesn’t it, boys and girls. You remember Dr Cray? We visited his surgery last month. I’m going to ask Bailey’s father if he’ll take him to Dr Cray for us. Will you do that for us, sir?’

Then she looked straight at Nicholas, meeting those deep green eyes head on. Not His Problem? Ha. He was asking her to teach his child. Payback happened early in Banksia Bay.

‘I don’t know about dogs,’ he said, sounding stunned.

‘That’s okay,’ she said, wrapping the little dog more tightly in his towels. Before he could demur, she handed him over, simply pressing the dog against his chest and letting her hands fall. She wasn’t about to drop him, but he wasn’t to know that. He was forced to release Bailey to take the dog.

‘Dr Cray does a midday surgery, so he should be there,’ she said. Then, as he still looked flabbergasted, she thought maybe a little more explanation might be required. Explanation but no choice. She couldn’t afford to give him a choice.

She so wanted to take this dog herself, but some things weren’t possible. Nicholas would have to do.

‘I’m not sure where our Principal is,’ she said. ‘These children are mostly country kids. We know about injured animals. We know the vet can help, only first we need to get him there. We ask our parents to help all the time-four of our mums and dads helped with swimming lessons this morning. I know Bailey’s only just joined the class but we know you’ll want to help as well. So please, can you take this dog to the vet? Tell Dr Cray I’ll be there after work and I’ll take care of the expenses.’

And she mustn’t forget Bailey, she told herself. She was asking a lot here-of both father and son.

She looked down at Bailey and something in his expression caught her. Made her remember…

Her mother, walking into her classroom on one of her fleeting visits. Misty might have been as old as Bailey, or maybe a little younger.

Her mother staying for all of two minutes-‘just to see my kid’. Speaking gaily to her teacher as she walked out. ‘You look after my Misty; she’s such a good girl.’ Then leaving. As she always left. Sending postcards from a life that didn’t include Misty.

Whoa. In the midst of this drama, where had that thought come from? But the memory of it was there, in Bailey’s eyes. She knew instinctively that his world wasn’t certain, and she was asking more of him.

But, unfair or not, she had no choice. She couldn’t leave the classroom and she could hardly toss the dog outside untended. What to do?

Give him the choice, as she’d never been given the choice.

She stooped. ‘Bailey, we need your father’s help to take this dog to where he can get bandages on his cut leg. Will you go with your dad to the vet’s, or will you stay here with us and paint cows? Your dad will come back after he’s left the dog with the vet. Won’t you, sir? Is that okay with you, Bailey?’

Big breath. She was asking so much. And if she was right in what she sensed…if this little boy had been left in the past…

But it seemed Bailey trusted his father far more than she’d trusted her mother. He thought about it for a moment, looked up at the little dog wrapped in towels and then he gave a solemn nod, answering for both of them.

‘My dad can take the dog to the vet.’

‘That’s wonderful.’ It was indeed wonderful. ‘Aren’t dads great? Will you stay with us or will you go with him?’

‘Stay with us,’ Natalie said urgently, and Misty blessed Natalie’s bossy little boots. ‘I have heaps of paint.’

‘I’ll stay,’ Bailey said, giving a cautious smile to Natalie.

‘That’s excellent.’ She straightened and the look she gave Bailey’s father was pure pleading. This was outrageous. If Frank could hear what she was doing he’d sack her on the spot. But what choice did she have?

‘So will you do it for us?’ she asked, and the dog looked hopelessly out at her from where it was cradled against his chest and she knew she was pleading for all of them. For the kids in her classroom, too. Every single one of them wanted a happy outcome for this dog.

‘Please?’

CHAPTER TWO

WHAT had just happened?

One minute he had been a father intent on enrolling his son in his new school. He’d been ready to fill in forms, reassure Bailey, do all the things a responsible dad did.

The next he was standing in the sunshine, his arms full of bleeding dog, with a worried schoolteacher watching his rear. Making sure he followed directions.

An army commander couldn’t have done it better.

Bailey would be safe with her.

That was a dumb thing to think at such a time-after all, what risk was there in leaving his son in a country primary school, in Australia, in a tiny seaside town where the most exciting thing to happen was…was…

Well, a dog being run over, for a start. Even that was more excitement than Nick wanted.

And it was a whole lot more excitement than this dog wanted. As Nick felt the dog tremble he put the me angle aside and focused on the creature he was carrying.

There’d been no time to examine him in the classroom. Miss Lawrence had wanted him out of there.

That was unfair. Her first responsibility must be to the children in her class and she’d put them first. If she’d taken the time to see exactly what was wrong, then the children, too, would have seen. Maybe that would have been distressing.

So he did what he was told. He turned his back on the school and headed for the car.

To the vet?

That, at least, was easy. Banksia Bay’s commercial centre consisted of the one High Street running down to the harbour. Right on the town’s edge was a brick building set back from the road. There was a big tree out front, a large blue sign saying ‘Vet’ and a picture of a dog with a cocked leg, pointing to the tree.

He and Bailey had smiled at it when they’d arrived in town. It was barely a block and a half from the house he’d rented.

‘We could get a dog,’ Bailey had said, but tentatively because maybe he’d already known the answer.

The answer would be no. Nick wanted nothing else that would tear their hearts. He was totally responsible for Bailey now, and for Bailey to have any more tragedy…

Look at this dog, for instance-running away, being hit by a car. He didn’t know how badly it was injured. In all probability, there was still a tragedy here.

If there was then he’d lie to Bailey, he decided. This dog obviously belonged to a nice farmer who lived a long way out of town. The farmer would come and collect him. No, it’d be too far to visit…

The dog in question quivered again in his arms-the trembling was coming in waves-and he stopped thinking of difficulties. The sensible thing would be to set the dog on the car seat beside him but when he went to put him down he shook so much he thought okay, if it’s body warmth he needs, then why not give it to him?

If Miss Lawrence was here she’d hold him. She’d expect him to hold him too.

She was one bossy woman.

Strong? Independent? Like Isabelle?

Not like Isabelle. She was a country schoolteacher. She wasn’t a risk-taker.

She was…cute?

Now there was a dumb thing to think. He’d come here to set himself and Bailey up as safe and immune from any more risk-from any more tragedy.

From any more complications.

Isabelle had been dead for little more than a year. Even though their marriage had been on the rocks well before that, it hadn’t made her death less shocking. Less gut-wrenching. It was far too soon to think that anyone, much less Bailey’s new schoolteacher, was cute.

Hard not to think it, though. And maybe it was okay. Normal, even. She was a country schoolteacher and her ability to intrude on his life would be limited to teaching his son.

And asking him to take a dog to the vet.

It took two minutes to drive the short distance to the vet’s. When he carried the dog in, an elderly guy with heavy spectacles and a grizzled beard emerged from the swing doors behind Reception. His glance at Nick was only fleeting; he focused straight away on the blood-stained towel. ‘What’s happened?’

A man after my own heart, Nick thought. Straight to the core of the problem.

‘Miss Lawrence from the local school asked me to bring this dog in,’ he said as the vet folded back an edge of the towel so he could see what he was dealing with.

‘Misty?’ The vet was touching the dog’s face, running his fingers down his neck. Feeling for his pulse. ‘Misty doesn’t have a dog.’

‘No, he ran into the schoolroom while…’

But the vet had found the collar. He fingered the nylon-checked the number, winced.

‘It’s the second.’

‘Sorry?’

‘From our local Animal Welfare Centre.’ The vet took the dog from him, holding him with practised ease. ‘Henrietta gives dogs every chance, only there are never enough homes. When the dogs have stayed there for…well, it’s supposed to be ten days but she stretches it as long as she has room…she brings them to me. Three months after Christmas, cute pups turn into unwanted dogs. Yesterday morning she had a van full and some driver ran into the back of her. Dogs went everywhere. This is one of them.’