The Geography of Happiness (Mackenzie Country)

Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

Terry

By the time the sun began to dip over the sawtooth ranges on the western side of the valley, I’d finished my book and started on another. Goosebumps popped up my arm as the lengthening shadows were accompanied by a lick of cooler air, so I put my book aside to don a sweater and grab a beer from the fridge. I returned to the deck and stretched out on the low wicker lounge chair to watch the gleaming blush of sunset slide over the lake. And with nothing to think about except plans for dinner, errant thoughts of a certain Spencer Thompson and his velvety voice drifted in to fill the vacuum.

A low-grade warmth filled my belly and I shook my head, not sure what the hell was wrong with me. I couldn’t be crushing on the guy because I didn’t do that shit, like ever. Realising I liked someone in that way was more often than not a belated surprise to all concerned, especially me. I wasn’t exactly what you called highly sexed. Sometimes I wondered if I was sexed at all. Except I knew that wasn’t true. There had been one or two people in my life who’d caught my attention in that way—but those were hardly standout numbers for someone who’d hit his thirties.

Judah Madden had been one of those. By the time I realised I was growing inconvenient romantic feelings for the guy, he was already my best friend, and then he fell head over heels in love with his soulmate, Morgan. Go figure. And because of that awkward conundrum, Judah still had no idea that my sexuality was... well, whatever it was—a crapshoot or absent most of the time, to be perfectly honest.

I was too worried that if I told him he’d look back and put the pieces together and that would be... well... mortifying, to put it mildly. But the longer I didn’t say anything, the harder it was to tell him and the more he was going to be hurt. So yeah, I was fucking up that side of our friendship big time. Go me.

But Judah had been the first guy I’d ever felt strongly about, the one who answered that nagging question in my brain about if maybe I liked more than just women. But it had taken me a long time to decide if what I thought I felt for him was real or simply because we’d clicked from the minute he returned to Painted Bay and we’d both needed a friend. I didn’t have a lot of those and even fewer I trusted to share my problems with. The connection and sense of belonging that came with someone actually having my back had been confusing as hell. Friendship or more than that, who the hell knew? By the time I figured it out months later, it was too late. Judah and Morgan were an item, and I’d never felt anything remotely close since, or even before if I was honest.

Which meant the idea that I could be attracted to Spencer so quickly was just plain ridiculous. I wasn’t sure that Spencer even qualified as a crush since my libido rarely got above a simmer and I could comfortably go months—read: years—without a warm body in my bed and not miss it. One of the many, many reasons Amber and I hadn’t lasted.

Spencer was a nice guy that I found attractive and happened to feel at ease with. Case closed. That he was also gay or bi or whatever was nothing more than an interesting wrinkle I needed to ignore. I was away from Painted Bay, in neutral territory free from the usual eagle-eyed blabbermouths, stressed, and vulnerable. Spencer was nothing more than a benign disturbance in my universe, a distraction from the real decisions I was supposed to be making. I needed to get my head out of my arse and focus.

The roar of an engine caught my attention, and I turned to see Zach’s ute heading toward the cottage with Hannah waving madly out the passenger window. Zach pulled up out front and Hannah was out of the vehicle as fast as her elbow crutches allowed. Before she’d even reached the ramp, I was being regaled with the day’s adventures. Gabby, on the other hand, motored past me with barely a glance as she headed to wait by her food bowl.

Hannah made it up the ramp, still talking non-stop, and plonked in the chair opposite to finish telling me all about Gabby’s brilliance, the scenery, how wonderful Zach was, Gil’s scrummy sugar cookies, how she’d met all the shepherds, and how it felt to ride behind Holden on a quad bike.

“And we saw Spencer on the road when we were coming back to the station,” she rattled on.

My ears perked up. “Really?”

“Yes, he was on his way back from seeing a sick horse, and he let me look in his truck. He has everything in there. You should see it, Dad.”

“It was very kind of him to let you take a look,” Zach added.

“And he showed me some photos of a litter of puppies he was off to check as well. They were so cute.”

“I hope you thanked him.”

Hannah rolled her eyes. “Of course I did.” And then she was off once again, listing all the other things they’d done.

My smile grew bigger by the second and my stupid eyes filled at the pure exhilaration on her face. When her monologue finally ran dry and I’d displayed a suitable level of appreciation with all the appropriate questions, I finally got the hug I’d been jonesing for all day, before she disappeared inside to feed Gabby.

Zach watched her go, also wearing a grin from ear to ear. “She’s a great kid.” He took a seat on the top step and leaned back against the post.

“That she is.” My voice ran thick with pride. “Some days, it’s hard to believe she’s only fourteen.”

Zach studied me quietly. “Yeah. She’s got a real maturity about her.”

Like I needed reminding. “Do you have kids?”

“No.” Zach hesitated. “Well, not yet . Luke and Gil had a daughter back when they were married, but Callie was killed in a car accident a few years back and it’s taken both of them a long time to figure out how to move on after that, not that you ever really do, not completely.”

His words hit like a physical blow, and a flash of panic squeezed my heart. “Oh god. Shit. I’m so sorry.” The idea of losing Hannah was my worst fucking nightmare. I couldn’t even begin to go there.

“It’s fine,” Zach reassured me. “They’re both quite open about it.”

The meaning of his words finally sank in. “So, Luke and Gil were...”

“Married?” Zach chuckled. “Yes, indeed they were. And Holden and I were— are best mates.” He outright laughed at whatever he saw in my expression. “Yeah, don’t even try to get your head around it. Luke and I met after his and Gil’s marriage was already over. I won’t say it didn’t have its awkward moments, but we got over ourselves and the four of us get along really well. Luke and I actually rent a cottage on the station, close by the main gate.”

“Um . . . wow.” I was pretty sure I was gawping. “That’s . . . great. Unusual, but great.”

He laughed again. “Actually, weird is the word I think you’re looking for. And to answer your earlier question, Luke and I actually have a baby on the way.” He patted his belly. “I know, I carry it well, right?”

I couldn’t help but laugh.

“It’s still early days,” he continued. “Twelve weeks, give or take. We’ve just started telling people.”

I blinked. “That’s amazing. Congratulations.”

Laughter danced in his eyes. “Thank you. A cousin of mine unexpectedly offered to be our surrogate, and although it was much earlier than we planned, she’s thirty-six and it needed to happen sooner rather than later. So, we said yes, and the little terror is due next April. And when I say little terror, I mean it. We used Luke’s swimmers and that man’s middle name is Trouble. Gil and Holden have agreed to be godparents or whatever they call them these days— pain in the neck springs to mind but that’s just me.” He laughed again and I found myself liking the guy more and more. “Man, you should see your face.”

Heat rushed into my cheeks. “Sorry. I just... well... to be honest, I don’t know what was going through my head.”

More laughter. “Don’t worry, it’s a look I’ve gotten used to whenever I tell our story. We’d give any soap opera a run for their money. Anyway, back to today. I wanted to let you know that Hannah is a delight and an absolute natural. Her dog handling skills are excellent for someone her age. She’s mentally flexible and adapts easily. That’s half the battle won right there. She’s also quicker on her feet than I expected with her elbow crutches, and she’s got great balance. She’s been dancing for a few years now, right?”

I nodded. “My best friend, Judah, used to be a professional ballet dancer before starting this dance programme for kids living with disabilities. Hannah doesn’t always need the elbow crutches. There are days, sometimes even weeks, she can manage just with her canes, but the elbow crutches give her more stability, plus she’s been needing them more and more this last year.”

Zach glanced through the window behind me. “Well, the dance training certainly shows. It’s no wonder she’s been offered such an amazing opportunity at Nolan. She’s one very focused and determined young girl.”

I snorted. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

Zach grinned. “That determination and focus mean we’ll accomplish more than I’d planned for the week, which is good news. However, I’d still recommend a one- or two-day follow-up in January just to boost her confidence ahead of the big move to Wellington.”

“ Possible move,” I corrected. “I haven’t made a decision yet.”

Zach must’ve seen something in my expression—panic, no doubt—because he scooted closer and lowered his voice. “Listening to Hannah, it sounded like it’s already decided.”

“It’s not,” I answered firmly. “Hannah’s just choosing to ignore the fact.” I made a mental note to have another chat with my daughter.

Zach fell quiet for a moment and I could tell he was choosing his words carefully. “Well, if it helps any, from what I’ve seen and with Gabby at her side, Hannah would be more than capable of managing the mobility side of things. I know that’s not all there is to consider and I totally get that you’re worried, but I think it’s a good start.”

“Worried? Try terrified.” I blew out a long put-upon sigh. “What else has she been telling you?”

He raised a brow. “Remember I said that I’d be chatting to you both individually?”

I groaned. “Keep your secrets then.”

Zach chuckled. “You need to trust that I’d pass on anything I considered important for you to know. But Hannah also needs to feel free to talk with me about all her challenges.”

“And I’m one of the all , I take it?”

Zach’s mouth tipped up in a smile. “Does that surprise you?”

I sighed. “Not a bit.”

“Good, because I’d be more worried if she didn’t name you as one of her challenges. It’s only natural. Kids and parents butt heads. Especially teenagers. And the impact of a parent’s opinion and views—spoken or not—can’t be over-estimated on how a kid copes with change.” He studied me for a moment. “Hannah did mention one thing I was going to check with you. She said her mum would be living close by in Wellington.”

“Oh, Jesus,” I muttered, rolling my eyes. “You’ve clearly had the full immersive experience.”

Zach smiled kindly. “I doubt it. Hannah was very... circumspect in what she said on the topic.” He rested a hand on my shoulder. “But she does know that you don’t like any of it. Wellington, her mother, the whole thing.” His look of concern made it clear I was doing a less than grand job of hiding my feelings from my daughter.

My gaze darted to where Hannah was planted in front of the television while surreptitiously trying to eavesdrop on our conversation, no doubt. She glanced up and caught me staring, her smile lighting up the cabin. I dropped my voice and whispered, “How badly am I fucking things up?”

Zach huffed out a laugh and raised both palms. “Don’t ask me. No kids, remember?”

“Yet,” I reminded him, keeping my eyes on Hannah. “Be afraid, my friend. Be very afraid.”

Zach laughed and headed back to his vehicle with the jaunty step of all those yet-to-be parents convinced they’d never be like the rest of us.

I watched him go with a smile on my face.

His turn would come.

Nothing surer.

And I’d pay good money to be there when it happened.

As dinner passed and the evening died away, any wishful thinking on my part that Hannah might move onto a fresh topic of conversation died the death of a thousand paper cuts to my tired brain. By the time Hannah finally shooed Gabby to their bedroom around nine, I’d been subjected to more information about Zach, the shepherds, station life, service dog programmes, and the life of merino sheep than I could ever possibly want to know. In fact, I was starting to envy the damn sheep. Five months cruising the high country in relative isolation was beginning to have its appeal.

I gave Hannah and Gabby fifteen minutes to get settled, then wandered down the hall to say goodnight. I expected her to be reading with Gabby sprawled across the end of her bed as usual, but instead, Hannah was fast asleep with her book lying unopened in her hands.

I tiptoed over and moved the teenage detective story to the side table before pulling the covers over Hannah’s exposed arms and brushing her blond curls from her lashes. Gabby stirred and opened a single eye just to check what I was up to, then closed it again.

I squatted at the side of the bed and lightly stroked my daughter’s cheek. “Goodnight, Princess Pineapple.” It was her nickname from childhood, but one that I was now strictly forbidden from using outside the house. I considered the rule grossly unfair since Judah was still permitted to call her angel eyes, and the bastard took great pleasure in lording that fact over me on a regular basis.

I backed silently from the room, pausing in the doorway for one last look. Asleep in her bed, Hannah appeared impossibly young and delicate, and I thanked the heavens yet again for the gift of her in my life. When I’d been sixteen, Amber’s pregnancy had seemed anything but a gift. How wrong I’d been. I killed the light, closed the door, and made for the kitchen to unpack the dishwasher before heading to bed.

An hour later, after thumbing several magazines and struggling through fifty pages of a less than stellar historical fiction, I found myself reaching for the card on my bedside table. The one Sonja had given to me before I left the clinic.

Spencer Thompson MVS

Oakwood Veterinary Clinic

I read the name for the umpteenth time, turned it over, and noted the two phone numbers on the back: one for the clinic and the other a cell.

I twirled it in my hands and told myself the twisting knot in my belly was nothing but concern about Miller settling in all right. It was natural. Cute dog. Overly responsible rescuer. Shelter guilt. It made sense.

But the eyes staring back in my head, although brown, didn’t belong to Miller. Nor did the silken voice, or the mischievous laugh, or the scent of leather and lanolin that kept fogging up my brain.

“Fuck it.” I reached for my phone, dialled the cell number on the card, and then... hung up. Ugh. I was being ridiculous. I’d regret it. It was a crazy, idiotic idea. And a mistake. The biggest mistake.

No argument there.

I was staring at the phone like it carried the plague, so when it suddenly rang, I barely managed to juggle the thing to my ear and stop it from falling to the floor. “Yes?” I practically squeaked, my cheeks blazing hot enough to fry an egg.

“Terry?” Spencer’s mellow tone travelled down the line all the way to my belly. My name had never sounded so good.

But . . . how did he?—

“I added your number to my contacts, in case you’re wondering,” he quickly added, like he had read my mind.

Oh. I screwed my eyes shut and pulled a face. Idiot. “Oh, right. Yes, of course. I guess you’re on call a fair bit with emergencies and stuff.”

Spencer huffed. “Such is the life of a vet. This is actually my work line. I have a private cell as well so I can maintain some semblance of sanity. Matt and I switch around being on call and I turn mine off when it’s his turn. Tonight, it’s my turn, so you’re in luck. What’s up?”

“Well, it’s hardly an emergency,” I apologised. “But I wanted to check in on Miller. I told Hannah what happened and she’s worried about him. I thought if I talked to you, then I could put her mind at rest... in the morning... when she wakes up, because I won’t wake her now... obviously.” I cringed at the stumbling explanation, and there was a long pause at the other end of the phone. I really couldn’t lie to save myself, a fact which always landed me in a ton of shit with Judah, who thought it was hysterical.

“Well,” he began slowly, “the last I saw of our boy, he was eating and drinking and doing all the other things good pups do. So you can reassure Hannah that Miller is fine.” He made no attempt to hide his obvious amusement at my failed subterfuge, which only served to fan the heat in my cheeks. Thank Christ he couldn’t see them.

And also ... our boy? That sounded way too nice to my ears.

“Oh... that’s... good then,” I faltered, then whacked my palm on my forehead because I really did suck at all this bullshitting stuff. “Okay, so full disclosure. I might’ve called for my benefit, not Hannah’s.” I didn’t need to clarify exactly which benefit, did I?

The admission earned me a soft chuckle. “Say it isn’t so.”

“Smart-arse,” I griped. “And I also rang to apologise again for holding you up today. I hope your afternoon went well.” I hope your afternoon went well? Really, Terry? I was such a loser.

Luckily, Spencer didn’t seem to mind my obvious lack of grey matter. “As it happens, I didn’t get stepped on or bitten or get my boots shat on even once, so all in all, I consider that a successful afternoon. How about you?”

I chuckled. “Me? Oh, you know. Saved a few lives, worked on my latest bestseller, put all the MasterChef contestants to shame, and was asleep on the deck by two. It could’ve been sooner, of course, but winning that pesky Nobel Peace Prize this year requires at least a little effort.”

Spencer’s booming laugh made me grin like a loon. “Sounds positively exhausting.”

“What can I say? You either have it or you don’t.” I hesitated, unwilling to finish the conversation while at the same time not having a clue why. “Anyway, thanks for being a good sport about the late call. I apologise again, and now I’ll let you go.”

“No apology needed,” he reiterated. “As it happens, I was in bed reading a lengthy and very dry article on parasitic infestations. Believe me, the distraction is more than welcome.”

“Oh.” The depth of my conversational skills was truly astounding, but my brain was stuck on an image of Spencer wearing animal print pyjamas à la Dr Dolittle . I repeat, what the fuck is wrong with me? That image quickly morphed into him wearing a tee-shirt and briefs and even quicker into nothing at all.

Hell to the no.

I swallowed hard and aimed for levity. “To be honest, I’m not sure what to think about the whole rating-above-parasites thing. I mean, on one hand, it’s incredibly reassuring. It would suck to rate below them, right? May as well delete my Tinder profile right now or rewrite it to appeal to those with an entomology fetish.”

Spencer snorted and then dissolved into laughter. “You’re fucking hilarious, you know that, right?”

No, no I wasn’t. I was just... feeling uncomfortable things and losing my mind.

I should’ve quit while I was ahead, but I was on an unfortunate roll.

“On the other hand, I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was secretly hoping for something at least on the level of primates, although I wouldn’t say no to the whole marine dolphin-whale thingy either. A beluga maybe? We share a similar pale complexion, after all, and I bet it sucks to blush red underwater. Like waving to the sharks to just come and get you. Aaaaand I think I should stop talking now and let you get back to your riveting article.” I paused, then added. “Go the parasites, yay.” I slow punched the air even though Spencer couldn’t see me.

“You have a Tinder profile?” he asked, sounding... I wasn’t quite sure how he sounded. Intrigued? Surprised?

I blinked. “That’s what you took out of all that? Do I have a Tinder profile? No, I don’t. I was employing a little artistic licence.”

He chuckled. “Good to know.”

“Now I really have to go?—”

“And condemn me to a world of tapeworm and flukes instead of this fascinating conversation with you?”

“Now I know you’re taking the piss,” I countered.

“Not at all,” he answered, his tone suddenly a lot more intimate. “Would it help if I told you I was secretly hoping you’d call? That way I wouldn’t have to angst over coming up with some trifling excuse to call you ?”

Me? And okay, my heart might’ve pattered a little at the admission because since Spencer had already confirmed that Miller was okay, there was no mistaking the implication of him calling me at ten thirty in the evening.

I might even have come up with a snappy answer if my brain could somehow move past the obvious flirtation. I couldn’t even remember the last time someone had flirted with me, but years seemed about right. Then again, I was mostly ignorant about that stuff. Judah’s voice rang in my head. Oh. My. God. You’re totally oblivious to all the signs a woman likes you. Not entirely true, but what point was there in responding if I felt little in return?

“Earth to Terry?” That flirtatious tone was back in Spencer’s voice, which meant the other had been no fluke—parasite pun fully intended. I wasn’t misreading a thing. But I also had no clue how to respond or even if I wanted to.

Cue a little deflection. “Did you miss the part where I’m a single dad with no personal life to speak of?” I shot back. “In the arena of interesting conversations, the tapeworm would likely have me beat, hands down.”

Spencer laughed. “Now you’re just playing hard to get.”

I gulped. Because yeah. Definitely and terrifyingly... flirting. And it was ramping up. And I wasn’t shutting it down. There was no way Spencer could be sure about my sexuality, so he was winging it based on my reactions, and I was giving him way too many of those. If I wanted it to stop, there was only one option.

“Oh.” I tried to feign a dawning realisation of Spencer’s intent, which probably sucked like all my other attempts at being squirrelly, but too bad. I wasn’t ready for any of this... for Spencer, least of all. “I, um... I don’t think... I mean... shit, I’m sorry if I gave you the impression, but I, um, well, I’m not... gay.” Not an actual lie, right?

My stumbling response drifted into a long silence on Spencer’s end, and I pictured that tiny crease forming between his chocolate brown eyes as he digested my words; the same one I’d noticed while he was examining Miller, his focused look.

This time, however, his focus was clearly on me. But as the silence spun out into the realms of uncomfortable, I realised I didn’t want to hear whatever response was brewing behind those beautiful eyes. I didn’t want to further my evasion, and I certainly didn’t want to outright lie about what I felt, so there could be no more questions.

And so I did what any self-respecting, chicken-shit grown-up in my position would do—I bailed. “Actually, I should really go and let Gabby out for one last pee,” I fudged. “Thanks again, Spencer. I’ll tell Hannah that Miller is fine.”

After a long few seconds, when I thought he might actually call me on my bullshit, Spencer instead offered a quietly spoken, “No problem. I’m sorry for misreading things. Sleep well, Terry.”

I hung up before I changed my mind and blurted out what I really wanted to say. That I wasn’t straight. That I was attracted to him. That talking with him had been the highlight of my day. And that I wanted to do it again.

But I didn’t do any of that. I also didn’t get out of bed. I didn’t go to Hannah. I didn’t let Gabby out because she never peed at that hour. I didn’t even put my phone away.

I just lay on my bed with my hands shaking and my heart thundering in my chest.