Page 84 of A Fresh Start at Bramble Cottage
“Quite.” There was a grim note in his voice. She suspected that if he had ever found out who’d done it, they would have lived to regret it.
“It must have been a lot of work, rearing such a tiny thing.”
“It was.” He rubbed his cheek against the dog’s head. “Bottle-feeding for the first couple of weeks, getting him to pee and poo. Good job I’m used to that sort of thing, looking after a couple of hundred cows.”
And it would have cemented them closer than most owners and their dogs, she reflected. “He was lucky to have found you.”
He smiled down at her, all the tension eased from his face. “I was the lucky one.” He nuzzled the top of the little dog’s head again. “He’s my best buddy.”
They reached the lane and turned in through her gate, their footsteps crunching on the gravel path. Vicky felt a little flutter in the region of her heart. She had invited him into her house...
Of course it was just because of Rufus — to warm him up, give him something to eat. But even so, could this be a chance for a reset... ?
She opened the door and flicked on the light. “Come on in.”
He stepped inside and glanced around. “Ah, your new kitchen. I like it.”
“Dan did a really good job.” She hoped he wouldn’t notice the slight tremor in her voice. “Thank you for recommending him.”
“And the rest of the place?”
“Just as good. He sanded and sealed the floorboards, and they look fabulous. And my new sofa came this morning — it’s one of those really big old-fashioned-style ones, with huge squashy cushions. It looks perfect in the sitting room, in front of the fire.”
She knew that she was babbling, but she couldn’t help it. Her heart was beating so loudly she thought he must be able to hear it.
“You can wash the mud off him in the sink while I do his scrambled egg.” She lifted the washing-up bowl out of the big Belfast sink and put it to one side. “I’ll get some towels for you to dry him with.”
“Thanks.”
She hurried upstairs to fetch the towels from the linen cupboard, glad of the excuse to escape for a moment to try to compose herself. The sight of him in her kitchen, so big, so...male, really wasn’t good for her sanity.
She returned to find that he had put Rufus in the sink and was gently splashing him with warm water. A little to her surprise the little dog didn’t seem to mind at all. She laughed as Tom took the towels from her.
“You’re almost as muddy as he is.”
He glanced down at his T-shirt, laughing too, then in a move she hadn’t anticipated he tugged it off over his head.
So much for composure. The sight of his powerful body — the smooth sun-bronzed skin, the swell and dip of hard muscle, the smattering of dark curling hair across his wide chest...
Quickly she turned away. “I’ll... get that scrambled egg going — he can have it as soon as he’s had his bath.”
Her hands were shaking so much she was afraid she’d drop the eggs. But she managed to whip up the mix and pop it in the microwave without any disasters.
“Coffee?”
“That would be good.”
He lifted Rufus out of the sink and wrapped him up in one of the towels to scrub him dry. “He’s exhausted — he usually fights like mad when I try to give him a bath. Unfortunately he likes to roll in stinky things, so it’s a frequent necessity.”
Vicky filled a dish with water and set it down on the floor. “Here — he’ll probably want this.”
“Thanks.”
Tom put the pup down beside the bowl and he lapped it up thirstily. The microwave pinged and she took out the scrambled egg, and tipped it onto a plate. It disappeared as swiftly as the water, and then with a huge sigh he just lay down, his head on his paws, and immediately fell asleep.
“Here.” She folded a spare towel and laid it on the floor of the inglenook, close to the warmth of the range cooker. “He’ll be more comfortable on this.”
Rufus didn’t even open his eyes as Tom lifted him onto the towel. He just curled round in a tight ball, snuffling, and slept on.
