your employee-employer relationship-then you’ll need to leave this wonderful place that’s so right for Gabbie, and you won’t be able to take care of Grace any longer.’
‘That’s right.’
‘So be sensible.’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ she told her wayward heart. She sighed again and went back to bed.
But not to sleep.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE howling could be heard in the next continent. It went on and on, an awful, dismal, baying loneliness, filling the house, ringing out toward the sea, dreadful and searing in its intensity.
Luke, who was sleeping right beside it, woke as if he’d been shot.
Wendy, who was dozing fitfully, stirred and winced and reached automatically into the cradle beside her bed, in a swift gesture of comfort for the baby. But it wasn’t her baby who was doing the howling.
And in the next-door boxroom, Gabbie sat bolt upright at the sound, gave a whimper of fright and made a frantic dive straight underneath Wendy’s bedcovers. From there she poked up a quivering nose and ventured to ask, ‘What is it? What is it?’ The child was trembling like a leaf. ‘Wendy…’
‘It’s nothing to be afraid of.’ Boy, Bruce could wake the dead, here. Wendy suppressed a sigh. ‘Uncle Luke came home-came back last night-and he has a surprise for you. I’d imagine that’s what the noise is.’
Gabbie’s nose emerged another inch or two from under the quilt. Tucked up in bed with Wendy, she was brave enough-sort of. ‘A surprise?’
‘That’s what I said.’
‘For me?’
‘Go take a look. You know where Luke will be sleeping. Or trying to sleep.’
Nobody could be sleeping now. Even Grace was stirring. The howl sounded on and on into the dawn, and Gabbie’s fingers clutched Wendy’s.
‘That’s the surprise?’ Her eyes were like saucers. ‘It sounds awful.’
‘It’s not awful. Go see.’
Gabbie gulped. ‘Not without you.’
Now how had she known she’d say that? With a sigh, Wendy hauled back the bedcovers and poked her feet into her slippers. She pulled on a robe-at least she could be respectable here-and then took Gabbie’s hand. A gurgle from the crib reminded them both that they weren’t a pair. They were a team.
‘Grace wants to see, too,’ Gabbie announced and Wendy nodded.
‘Of course. Why not.’ She lifted the baby, and Grace’s bright button eyes twinkled up at her. ‘Your big brother is home,’ she told her. ‘And he’s brought our Gabbie a present. A present that’s intent on breaking the sound barrier. Okay, team. Let’s go meet this present before it splits our eardrums.’
The puppy was not happy.
Last night things had been different and interesting and exhausting for a pup. First there had been the initial meeting with Luke-an hour while he’d played and rolled and generally talked his way into a new owner’s heart. Then he’d been put into a cardboard box which had taken all of one small dog’s ingenuity and energy to escape from. There’d been some very interesting tummy collywobbles-courtesy of cardboard consumption-and by the time he’d arrived at Bay Beach, met Wendy, been given warm milk and been put to bed, the small Bruce had been so exhausted that he’d slept all night.
But now he’d woken in a strange bed, with a strange person and there wasn’t another basset-hound in sight. No mum. No brothers and sisters. It was enough to freak a small pup right out, and freak Bruce did, at the top of his lungs. His howl went on for ever, no matter how much Luke picked him up and told him he was okay and offered him puppy food and anything else a small dog could desire.
He wanted none of it. He howled and he howled and he howled.
And that was how Wendy and Gabbie and Grace found him. Still howling. They opened Luke’s bedroom door with caution, and Luke was sitting up looking resplendent in pale blue pyjamas with bright red sailing boats all over-he’d made a special effort to make up for the red-hearted boxer shorts-and Bruce was sitting on his knee, his small basset nose was raised to the moon, and he was howling with all the gusto of generation after generation of basset-hound ancestors-and maybe a bit of wolf ancestry thrown in for good measure.
Wendy stopped dead at the sight before her. There was Luke in his sailing-boat pyjamas, helplessly holding a howling basset puppy. They looked truly, truly ridiculous! Oh, dear…
She’d never seen a man look so helpless. One man in charge of his world-but not in charge of one small puppy.
‘Oh…’
By her side, Gabbie breathed deeply, awestruck at the sight. She took in the scene, and her mouth dropped wide open. ‘It’s a puppy,’ she whispered. ‘A puppy!’
‘It’s a very noisy puppy,’ Wendy said, but she wasn’t sure she could be heard over the racket. She knelt so she could hear what Gabbie was saying.
‘Why is it crying?’ Gabbie whispered, still clutching Wendy’s hand as if Bruce might leap on her, fangs bared. Ha!
‘I guess he’s missing his mummy.’
‘Then where’s his mummy?’ Gabbie’s big eyes flew to Luke, and suddenly there was accusation behind them.
‘Hey, I didn’t steal his mother,’ Luke said, wounded. He could see straight away what she was thinking. ‘He was being sold anyway.’
‘He was being sold?’
‘Puppies need owners,’ Wendy told her gently, giving her a small and gentle push forward. ‘Your Uncle Luke decided that this puppy’s owner would be you. I guess that means, from now on, you’re the puppy’s mummy. If that’s what you want.’
‘Oh…’ The little girl’s breath sighed out in a long, jagged rush of awe. ‘Oh…’
‘If you want him,’ Wendy said. She gave a rueful look at Bruce, who’s nose was still in the air, whose ears were back and who was still howling at the moon as if there was no tomorrow. Oh, dear. Maybe…maybe a basset-hound wasn’t such a great choice.
But…
‘I can be his mummy?’ Gabbie whispered.
‘He needs a mummy.’ It was Luke now, speaking above the noise. He cast an uncertain glance at Wendy and then focused on Gabbie. This was important. ‘I tried to act like his mum last night but I’m not very good at it. See…he doesn’t think I make the grade.’
‘How can I be his mummy?’ Gabbie seemed totally befuddled.
‘You might try cuddling him and giving him some breakfast,’ Wendy suggested.
‘Mmm.’
For a long, long moment the little girl considered this, while, unconcerned with these stupid humans, the puppy howled on. Then, appearing at last to come to a decision, Gabbie solemnly released Wendy’s hand. She walked those last few steps forward, and put her hand on the puppy’s head.
‘Don’t cry, puppy,’ she said.
The puppy cast her a doubtful look-and went right on howling.
But instinctively Gabbie knew what to do. She took a deep breath, took her courage in both hands and lifted the puppy up until her eyes met his.
‘Hey, puppy, this is a good place to be,’ she told him, and her voice was even a little stern. ‘This is a place for people without mummies. Grace and me don’t have mummies and Wendy’s our mummy and it’s really good here. And if you like, I’ll be your mummy and we’ll have fun together. And you can play in my cubby.’
There was suddenly silence. Miraculously there was silence. The whole world held its breath while Bruce
