by Stella Quinn
A deep woof sounded as he let himself into the back office. Jane Doe. The vet nurse would have taken her for a walk before he left for the day, but she’d cope with another. Who knew? Maybe the old girl had sniffer-dog skills hidden under all that fur.
He grabbed a lead from the row of hooks lining the wall by the door and headed into the sleepover room, where Jane Doe was tucked up with her pups.
‘How’re you doing, sweetheart?’
The old lab thumped her tail against the floor and scampered up, dislodging the pups dozing against her belly.
‘Fancy a walk?’
The dog pricked her ears. She knew the word ‘walk’ fine, like she knew ‘treat’ and ‘sit’ and ‘nice try but get away from my sandwich’. She was someone’s pet for sure, or had been.
He unlatched the gate and led her into the corridor. ‘We’re going on a Poppy hunt, Jane. You ready to earn your keep?’
‘Talking to dogs now, Josh?’
Josh looked up at the man standing in the doorway. Tall. Fair hair worn short and sharp as a seasoned Navy officer, eyes just as ruthless. Shoulders that could withstand a premiership quarter tackle, or at least they could back when they’d been on the same Aussie Rules team at school. ‘Tom Krauss. It’s been a long time, mate.’
‘Same. I hear you’re up to your old tricks schmoozing all the ladies in town.’
Josh sighed. Some gifts just kept on giving. ‘What do you mean by that exactly?’
His old schoolfriend cocked his head. ‘Nothing,’ he said after a pause. ‘Mrs LaBrooy told me you took her out for coffee.’
Well, that would teach him to jump down the throat of anyone who made a half-baked innuendo about his past. He grabbed Tom’s hand, shook it then pulled him in for a back-slap and hug. ‘Sorry. It’s been a long day. My daughter’s run off, and my old schmoozing tricks, as you so tactfully phrased it, are the reason.’
‘Hell, Poppy’s run off?’
‘Yep.’
‘Tell me what I can do.’
That. That was the reason he’d moved back to Hanrahan. More than the chance to get into his own vet practice. More than the majestic historic building he could live in rent free, the mountain air he could breathe, the gleaming blue of clear, cold lake water he could see from damn near every street in town, the row of Codys at rest in the cemetery.
Community. Friends who’d grown up with him, known him as a skinned-knee brat freewheeling through town on his battered BMX; sat shoulder to shoulder with him at birthday parties at the old ice rink while they woofed down milkshakes and hot chips and tried to out-belch one another. Friends who were ready now, without a prompt or a prod, to help.
‘I’m heading up to the bus depot on the main road. Beth thinks Pop might have booked herself back to Sydney when she ran out of here, and she’d need a bus to get her into the train station at Cooma.’
‘Let’s go.’
Josh gave the lead a tug and Jane Doe stopped sniffing the hem of Tom’s jeans and fell in beside him. As they let themselves out the side door, his brain worked around to the incongruity it hadn’t noticed until now. ‘What are you doing here anyway, Tom?’
Tom shot a glance up to the top floor, where lamplight shone from behind Hannah’s new curtains. ‘Don’t ask.’
Josh inspected his old friend’s set expression. ‘If you and Hannah are—’
‘We’re not.’
Hmm. If Tom had been upstairs, that would explain why Hannah hadn’t been answering his calls.
‘No sign of an hysterical fifteen-year-old girl up there?’
‘No, Josh. She would have been a welcome distraction, I can tell you that much.’
Okay. He could grill Hannah about Tom later. One drama a day was his limit, and Poppy being missing was the only thing he could care about right now.
He flicked on the torch, shone it into doorways and alleys as he and Tom walked down Dandaloo and cut through Quarry Street up to the main road at the back of town. He hunted around for a question to ask to take his mind off his worry.
‘So you left the Navy, I hear.’
‘A while back, yes.’
‘They finally wised up and booted you out.’
Tom gave an easy grin. ‘You wish. You’re looking at a decorated officer.’
‘Uh-huh. So why does a decorated officer ditch the Navy and head on home to the farm?’
‘Well, I’ve been working as a civilian for a few years, so it’s not like I ditched the Navy last week. I came back here to be with Dad. Mrs LaBrooy didn’t tell you?’
Josh frowned. ‘Tell me what?’
‘Dad has multiple sclerosis. It was me come home and keep the business going, or sell the horse stud. Easy choice.’
He doubted Tom would tell him if it had been the toughest choice of his life—he was a guy who played his cards close.
‘You got a good equine vet looking after those nags of yours?’
Tom punched him in the arm. ‘You are such an operator, Cody. And yes, your sister’s been known to come and look at my horses.’
‘Hey, I topped my class in equine studies. Interned at Dalgety Flats Stables six months last year. Just saying … there’s more than one Cody in town now.’
‘Dalgety Flats? The Frasers?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Heard they had had a winner in the Golden Slipper last year.’
‘You heard right. Three-year-old colt named Gondwana.’
The bus depot loomed ahead, an ugly squat building that was a tribute to shoddy council development approvals in the eighties. Jane plodded along beside him, her huffs sending a cloud of mist into the night air.
Beth had been right about the cold. Even now, in spring, the nights could turn bitter. And Poppy wasn’t dressed for mountain weather.
He stumbled at the thought of Poppy shivering somewhere in the dark. No … he couldn’t think that. He kept up the horse chatter to drive the image from his head. ‘You interested in racing stock out there at the Ironbark Station? Or are you breeding working horses?’
‘Quarter horses mainly, but I’ve a few special horses in the mix. You’ll have to come out and see my mare, Buttercup. I just paid a fortune for her. She’s in foal, a bit early in the season, but there was an opportunity to match her with a good bloodline. She’s a thoroughbred, built for racing, or was, until injury ended her career. I think she’s going to foal me a winner.’
‘A Triple Crown winner?’
‘Why not? A bloke can dream, right?’
A bloke sure could dream. Hadn’t he dreamed his whole life of being a vet in a large animal practice?
The arrival of Poppy into his world had changed things—he’d not taken up that scholarship. He’d had bills to pay, cots to buy, nappies, mashed up carrots and kindergarten fees to provide. But he’d never lost his dream, not in ten years of labouring on high-rise construction sites in downtown Sydney.
‘Yeah,’ he muttered. He paused in front of the closed ticket window at the depot. ‘Hang on to Jane Doe, will you, Tom? I’ll go find someone inside.’
‘No worries.’
He pushed his way through the heavy glass door. Bored-looking travellers sprawled across vinyl seats, but Poppy wasn’t one of them. He approached the desk and grilled the young man at the only open counter.
‘I’m looking for my daughter. Fifteen, grungy clothes, hair dyed black. Here’s a picture.’
He pulled up the photo files on his phone. He had hundreds of photos on there, thousands perhaps, and ninety-nine per cent of them were of Poppy. He showed the guy his screen.
‘She been in? Sometime after one? She’d have been looking for a bus to Cooma, and then train to Sydney.’
‘Sorry. I’ve been here since noon. Haven’t seen her.’
Bloody hell. Where could she be? He headed back outside, and Tom must have seen the despair on his face.
‘I know the local police officer. Her name’s Meg King, and she’s one of the best. Let’s get her involved. I can call
the old crew. Jacko—remember him? He’s driving again now so if we can prise him away from Tracy, we take a quarter of town each; we search until dawn if we have to.’
There was a sob in Josh’s chest, bucking just under the surface wanting to pound its way free. He choked it down, nodded.
‘Okay, yes, okay. I promised Beth I’d let her know if Poppy wasn’t at the depot. Let’s head back to the clinic and we can get your police friend to meet us there.’ Josh turned to the man he’d grown up with but hadn’t bothered to keep in contact with for the last decade and a half. More fool him. ‘Thanks, Tom. I mean it.’
Tom just nodded. ‘Here, take your girlfriend. I was warming to her, but then she tried to pee on my new boots. She’s all yours.’
‘Let’s walk down the other side of the street. There’s a few service alleys we should check.’
‘You got it.’
They crossed the street, the light from Josh’s torch flickering silver lines across the pavement. Maybe Beth had heard something by now. He dug around in his pocket for his phone.
‘Well, well, what do we have here?’
‘Hmm?’ Josh frowned down at his screen. Beth’s message was another dead end; none of Poppy’s friends had heard from her. No selfies adorned Instagram with a convenient sign in the background letting him know where she could be found.
‘Some new chick I have definitely not seen in Hanrahan before. Brown hair—or is it dark red? Easy on the eye, my friend … and she’s not alone.’
Josh ran a hand over his jaw, feeling the stubble there. Police, that had to be the first call. Then Beth. Then Hannah, damn her, could snap out of whatever Tom Krauss-funk she was inhabiting and come downstairs and help.
Tom’s last words finally sank into his brain. ‘Not alone?’
‘Ugly orange skirt. Boots that look like besser bricks. A nose that is one hundred per cent Cody. And I oughta know—I went to school with one of them, and I’ve wasted a mess of time getting the cold shoulder from the other. I think we’ve found your daughter, Josh.’
He looked up from his phone and on the dimly lit footpath were two figures walking towards them. Holy crap, Tom was right. He could have kissed him. He would have kissed him, except Tom was looking at his watch and muttering blather like gotta go, and now the drama’s over, and see ya, mate.
He ignored it all and lunged forward, earning himself a yelp from the startled labrador by his side.
‘Poppy? Honey, I’ve been so worried. Come here and give your dad a hug before he embarrasses all of us by crying in the street.’
And then she was in his arms. All five-foot, eyebrow-pierced, stroppy inch of her. She felt just about as perfect as a daughter could feel.
CHAPTER
10
Oh! Poppy’s dad was the big handsome vet?
She hauled in a breath. Wait, so Poppy’s story about the gossip in town was about Josh Cody? And—she flicked through the kid’s story in her head—if he was in business with Poppy’s aunt … then that meant the Cody and Cody Vet Clinic wasn’t a husband-wife team, but a brother-sister team.
Not that who he was in business with was any concern of hers.
He met her eyes over the top of his daughter’s head, thanks and questions written across his face.
‘Er, hi again,’ she said. ‘Vera. From The Billy Button Café.’
He smiled, a grin so brimful of charm she was able to understand how Poppy’s mum, whoever she was, had fallen under its spell.
‘You don’t have to keep introducing yourself. I know who you are.’
Oh boy. And now she knew who he was: single; too good-looking for her peace of mind; and with daughter-shaped emotional baggage which she had just sort-of employed.
Poppy was peeling herself out of her dad’s chokehold. ‘Guess what, Dad?’
‘What?’
‘I’m going to be a waitress.’
‘You are?’
‘Yep. Vera’s offered me a job for the holidays.’
‘I see.’ He raised his eyebrows in Vera’s direction. ‘Honey, can you call your mum? Let her know I found you.’
‘My phone’s dead.’
Josh rolled his eyes. ‘Of course it is. When you charge it again, maybe you’ll see the three thousand messages I’ve left for you.’
‘Oops. Sorry, Dad.’
‘No, it’s fine. I’m the one who’s sorry. We’ll talk, okay? Here, use mine. Your mum and Ron are worried about you.’
He handed his phone over to Poppy then looked up at Vera. She figured some sort of explanation was in order, so stopped running the ears of the dog through her fingers and stood up straight.
‘About the job,’ she began.
He nodded. ‘About that. Listen, you got time for a coffee or something? My place is just down the road. I’d like to get Poppy inside out of this cold.’
Vera hesitated. It was late, and she’d been planning a long bath and a deep-bottomed beverage. She shot a glance at her watch and dithered.
Saying yes would be a mistake. Get involved with no-one and avoid all drama … that had been her mantra as she packed up her life in Queanbeyan.
But … she had just employed this guy’s daughter. Maybe it was her civic duty to prove she wasn’t going to be an ogre of a boss.
Besides, she just had a cold, lonely apartment to go back to, with only her worries about guilty pleas for company, and this reckless spark the vet had lit in her brain felt good. When had she last felt good?
‘Sure,’ she said, recklessness winning out over caution, for now. She turned with Josh and started back down Paterson Street in the direction of the lake. Poppy’s chatter to her mother filled the air behind them.
‘You live above the vet clinic?’
‘Yeah. We, as in my sister Hannah and me, own the building together. It’s been in the Cody family for generations. Our grandparents ran a haberdashery from the ground floor, back when haberdasheries were a thing. There’s apartments on the upper storeys. Hannah’s on the top floor, I’m the middle floor.’
‘That’s handy for work.’
He smiled. ‘Sometimes too handy. And since I’m the junior partner, Hannah thinks it’s my job to deal with the middle-of-the-night pet dramas.’
‘So you bought into your sister’s practice?’
‘Well, “buy” probably isn’t the right word. Me and Hannah made a deal.’
‘Oh? What sort of deal?’
He shrugged. ‘She’d have let me into the business for nothing. But she’d used her savings to fund the fit-out—the treatment rooms, the x-ray machine, the dog run out back—and worked hard the last few years to build the practice up into a profitable business, so I found a way to pay her in kind.’
In kind? What an idea. If only she could pay the rent on the café in cakes and chicken ribbon sandwiches.
‘I worked construction when I left school. Ten years. I can knock out walls, lay tiles, plumb a shower. Hannah gave me the idea. The apartments on the upper storeys hadn’t seen a paintbrush since about 1920 when we moved in, so I strapped on my toolbelt and worked out my half of the practice fixing up her apartment. My place will be next and then, when time and money permit, we’re going to restore the street frontage to its original condition.’
A vision of Josh wearing a toolbelt and a patina of sawdust and man-sweat drifted across her mind’s eye, and she tripped on a crack in the footpath. She stiffened as his arm came up under hers and set her back on her feet.
‘You okay?’
Vera could feel herself blushing and unglued her fingers from Josh’s muscled forearm. What had they been talking about? Her mind had gone blank all of a sudden. Oh, right. Buildings. In kind. Kindness.
How messed up was her world that kindness felt like a word from a foreign language?
‘Construction to vet school. That seems like a big jump.’
‘Journalist to café owner and cake expert. Seems like you don’t mind a leap yourself.’
Vera stood stock-sti
ll on the footpath. How the hell did some random guy, who she’d barely met, know she used to be a journalist? And if he knew that, what else did he know? Her voice, when it came, was low. ‘It’s a long story. One I have no intention of sharing. I don’t know how you heard that, but—’
Josh touched her arm. ‘Hey. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. I’ve got a few long stories myself, one of which crawled out and bit me on the bum today. Bit Poppy, too.’
She sighed. ‘Don’t tell me. Small-town gossip. Poppy did give me a mangled version that made virtually no sense. It seems like I was prying, now, but at the time I had no idea who she was or how to get her home without a bit more information.’
He reached his arm around her and gave her shoulders a little squeeze. It felt good. Too good, for a woman who’d sworn off men forever.
‘Whatever you did, it worked. This is the nicest Poppy’s been to me since I told her I was moving to Hanrahan.’
Vera eased herself away and looked back over her shoulder, to where Poppy was nattering away on the phone about puppies and bus travel and how to store meringues like a professional. Josh was right, at least Poppy looked a whole lot happier than when she’d first seen her, weeping in the shadows of the skip bin.
‘I should have guessed when she mentioned a guinea pig,’ she said, as she followed Josh across the park over to Salt Creek Flats Road.
‘Excuse me?’ He was looking at her like she’d lost her marbles. Which, truth be told, she may very well have done. She’d barely been in town a month, and already she was halfway to forgetting her personal vow to never get involved with any guy, ever again—no way, no how. Problem was, when she made that vow, she didn’t know she was about to meet a warm-hearted vet with a flirty grin and a kooky daughter.
‘Poppy was going on about boys keeping their trousers on, and older women, and unexpected babies, which didn’t make a lot of sense, and the guinea pig threw me for a total loop. I should have realised the guinea pig was my biggest clue. Who else has guinea pigs for clients other than vets?’