his hand in his. His voice was full of horror. ‘Has he been shot?’
Shot? What sort of question was that?
‘He looks like he’s been hit by a car,’ she said, to the class as well as to Bailey. Every first grader was riveted to the little animal’s plight now. ‘He’s hurt his leg.’ Anything else? She didn’t know.
She looked down at him and he looked up at her, his eyes huge and pain-filled and hopeless. His shivering body pressed against hers, as if desperate for warmth.
She’d owned dogs since childhood. She loved dogs. She’d made a conscious decision not to have another one.
But this one… He was an injured stray and he was looking at her.
Uh oh.
‘Do you want me to call someone to deal with him for you?’ That was from Nicholas-with that question he surely wasn’t Adonis. This wasn’t a hero type of question. This the sort of response she’d expect from Frank.
Find someone to deal with him. Who?
Frank himself? If the Principal wasn’t in his office, she had no one to turn to. Every other teacher had their own class.
She could make a fast call to Animal Welfare. This was their dog. Their problem. They’d collect him.
That was the sensible solution.
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.
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
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
