The Geography of Happiness (Mackenzie Country)

Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

Terry

“Pass. The. Towel.” Hannah’s serious training voice drew me out of my room and toward the open bathroom door where I stood in the shadows of the hall and smiled at the sight of my fully dressed daughter sitting on a footstool in the shower with her elbow crutches leaning against the tiled wall. Her attention was glued to Gabby who was busy dragging a towel from the heated rail over to where Hannah sat. Once it was in her hands, Hannah showered the dog with praise.

“Oh, what a good girl. What a good, good girl.” Hannah’s arms filled with shaggy golden retriever as she hugged Gabby tight. Two days working with Zach and her excitement for the programme hadn’t diminished one little bit.

My mood, on the other hand, was suffering a rollercoaster of emotions—excitement to panic and everything in-between. Emotions I’d struggled to keep hidden from Judah when he’d called to quiz me about how things were going and interrupted a fun text exchange with Spencer that had stimulated a parade of less than PG images through my brain.

I’d had to feign some excuse and promise to call Judah back just so I could finish the conversation with Spencer, a conversation that had essentially been about nothing. I was clearly acting odd enough that Hannah had spent most of the time sending curious looks my way and trying to find out who I was texting. Since I hadn’t mentioned Spencer’s visit the day before, I’d simply told her it was a friend, which earned me a puzzled and slightly stung expression.

I didn’t blame her. I rarely kept secrets, but to Hannah’s credit, she didn’t resort to the usual teenage pout and sulk in response to me having any life she wasn’t fully aware of. I almost felt guilty, but I was kind of enjoying the idea of having something just for me in a week that was full of excitement for her. It was a week I’d been dreading, but it was turning out to be the best time I’d had in a long while.

Later that night when we’d finished dinner, I’d satisfied Judah’s curiosity, Hannah was in bed, and I called Spencer back and we talked on the phone for an hour. We told each other about our day, and he had me in fits of laughter, recounting the story of Hawthorne’s cow standing on his foot. It had taken three of them to push her off, and he was currently on his couch with an ice bag on his bruised foot and “couldn’t I pretty please just pop over and kiss it better for him?”

The powerful urge to do just that had shocked me to the core.

When it came to my turn, I’d been reprimanded about not putting enough fun in my day, and Spencer had laughed himself silly when I tried to convince him that balancing the hardware store’s accounts did count as fun in my books, especially when I got it right. He swore to show me the error of my ways in a voice that promised a whole lot more than I thought I was ready for.

He’d told me how soft my lips were and I’d told him I liked his cologne. He said that I tasted like honey and I told him it was Manuka from my morning toast and that the antibiotic qualities would kill any germs he’d introduced.

We both laughed.

He told me about living in small-town Oakwood and I told him about Painted Bay and the hellish tourist season. He told me about Matt and the station guys who he counted as his best friends, and I told him about Kane and Abe, Leroy and Fox, and Morgan and Judah.

He talked more about his parents and brothers, and I told him about growing up in my brother’s shadow—Mister Perfect, an adventure superhero, and a business savant, all rolled up in one very nice man. It was challenging to live in the same house, especially when I got Amber pregnant at the ripe old age of sixteen, while Kelvin had been travelling the continent climbing Everest and K7 or K9 or whatever it’s called.

Spencer had commiserated.

He’d told me he wanted to spend time with me again.

I’d said I wasn’t sure. The man was messing with my head, and not just that. In two days, Spencer had thrown a spanner in my life, and I was asking questions about myself that I’d never asked before. And for a guy who generally struggled to feel... things ... romantic things, sexual things, without needing to live in the other person’s pocket for about fifty million years, Spencer had me spinning in circles in just a few days and I was losing my mind, not to mention googling every possible sexual identity on the planet, trying to understand it.

Who was I? I didn’t know anymore. Spencer had flipped so much of what I thought I knew about myself on its head, which to be fair wasn’t much to begin with. I simply didn’t get it. I wasn’t that moony guy. Never had been. Not even with Hannah’s mother. The only person I’d ever daydreamed about was Judah and look where that got me. Nowhere in a hurry. And this thing between Spencer and me had about as much chance of having legs as that. Which meant no chance at all. So, there was that.

But every time I decided to take the sensible route and call it a day, tell Spencer that we needed to stop the chit-chat and flirting, that I wasn’t ready for any of it, I’d remember that kiss and... oh lordy. For a guy who rarely ever felt any serious sexual craving for more—more skin, more lips, more... everything—it was hella hard to just walk away, no matter the risk to my heart.

And there was serious fucking risk.

And guilt. As stupid as it was, I felt guilty for wanting Spencer when Judah didn’t even know about me. And a part of me even felt like I was betraying him or maybe betraying my old feelings for him. I didn’t understand how I could have these strong feelings for Spencer so quickly when Judah had taken me months. I’d always thought he’d been the one who got away. I wasn’t so sure anymore, and I didn’t know whether to be happy about that or whether to question everything I thought I’d felt for him. Had I got things wrong? And did that mean I couldn’t trust these new feelings either?

None of it made sense.

I stepped into the light of the bathroom and Hannah’s hand flew to her chest. “Dad! You scared the sh—heck out of me. What are you doing?”

“Strange as it is—” I crossed to the vanity and grabbed my electric toothbrush, studiously ignoring my reflection, which told a sad story of sleep deprivation. “—I’ve heard that removing your clothes before you take a shower does tend to guarantee a more satisfying experience.”

Hannah snorted. “We’re in training , Dad.”

“Oh.” I added toothpaste to the brush, popped it into my mouth, and talked around the buzz. “I wondered what that noise was.”

“You’re so not funny.” She bopped me on the bicep. “Zach gave me a bunch of commands to practise, but Gabby’s picking it up so fast I’m gonna have to get more. Did you see her get the towel back onto the rail when it dropped?”

“I did,” I spluttered, wiping a run of toothpaste from my chin. “She’s a smart cookie.”

“I’ll do it again.” Hannah freed herself from her dog and instructed Gabby to sit.

The retriever obeyed.

“Away.”

Gabby walked to the door where she turned and waited.

“Nothing new there,” I observed.

“ Dad .” Hannah rolled her eyes.

“Sorry.” I zipped my mouth.

Hannah refocused on Gabby. “Pass the towel.”

Gabby made a beeline for the towel, hanging awkwardly from the heated rail where she’d left it, and tugged it free. She dragged it over to Hannah who took it from her mouth and accidentally dropped it to the floor.

“Pass the towel,” Hannah repeated.

Gabby did as she was told and once again offered it to Hannah.

“Good girl!” Hannah scruffed the mane of golden hair around Gabby’s neck. “You’re so good. So smart.”

It was pretty impressive. “So, pass is the new command, I take it?”

Hannah nodded. “We’re teaching her that it means find and give me whatever item follows it. This time it was a towel. But it could be anything. A book. A drink. My phone. An apple. A jersey. Whatever.”

A notch formed between my eyes. “But she can already pick up clothes if you ask her to.” I was confused.

“ Yes ,” Hannah said in a barely patient tone like she was explaining it to a child. “But I have to point at them and show her exactly what I need. Zach says once she learns this command, then I can teach her the names of a whole lot of items to add at the end and she’ll be able to go and get them from another room without me even having to be there. Zach wants me to future-proof Gabby’s training by teaching her commands and words that I’m likely to need at some point down the track. Then I can practise and get them perfect before I actually need them, because one day I’m going to need her help a lot more.” Her eyes flicked to mine. “We both know that.”

Zach says. Zach wants . I ignored the niggle of irritation at hearing Hannah’s obvious adoration of the man in her tone. It wasn’t Zach I was irritated with; it was the fact that she was growing up and I wasn’t the only person she was turning to for help anymore. Zach was great at what he did, and they worked well together. It’s a gift, not a problem, idiot. Get over yourself.

Besides, Hannah was right. There was no pretending her JIA wasn’t advancing and increasingly restricting her mobility. Watching her stretch awkwardly for her elbow crutches before struggling shakily to her feet said a lot about that change. A year ago, Hannah mostly managed with just her canes around the house, but she was relying on her elbow crutches more and more. And since we’d been in the Mackenzie, I hadn’t seen her use her canes even once.

As much as I tried not to worry about her future, it was hard. Although the biologic meds she was on had slowed the progression of her condition, surgery was still on the cards. But the idea of osteotomies, joint replacements, or—heaven forbid—cervical fusion freaked me the hell out. Those solutions weren’t taken lightly because there was no going back once you started down that path. Fusions couldn’t be unfused, and new joints didn’t last forever.

“Hey, don’t do that.” Hannah pulled my face down so she could kiss me on the cheek. “It is what it is, right, Dad? We do what we can and keep going. That’s what you’ve always taught me. I’ll go get breakfast started.”

I returned a kiss to her hair. “Thanks, sweetie.”

“Don’t be so quick to thank me.” She eyed me pointedly. “While we eat, we’re gonna discuss that dog you found. Miller. It’s a cool name, Dad. Can’t believe you came up with it. Can we please go see him? Please .”

Another chance to see Spencer? My heart ticked up at the thought.

“On one condition.” I narrowed my eyes at my daughter. “We are not taking him back with us. He’s going to the shelter to find his forever home, understood?”

Hannah flicked me on the nose. “Don’t recall saying anything about taking him home. I just want to see him.”

I sighed. “All right. I’ll check with Spencer, but no promises, okay?”

“Works for me.” Hannah slipped into the hallway and I watched her go, wondering when exactly the little girl I used to know had grown into this charming and smart young teenager.

I’d spent years watching Hannah fight through the pain and tears just to stay on her feet; struggling with the side effects of drugs just to make it through another day; and holding on to every scrap of independence she could. Some days our father-daughter bond almost broke with the weight of the struggle. Other days we worked together like magic.

And yet, somehow, I’d missed the biggest transformation of them all. My little girl was emerging into a young woman and her need for me would continue to dwindle, as it should. The only question left to answer was how to ensure she was still talking to me when it was all done.

I put the toothbrush aside and rinsed my mouth. Then I leaned on the vanity and stared at my sorry reflection in the mirror. Thirty years old and I’d been a dad for fourteen of them. Most days it felt like I’d leap-frogged straight over the free-and-selfish twenties and gone straight to middle age. Crow’s feet in the corners of both eyes, skin that wouldn’t know moisturiser if it fell in a vat of the stuff, and abs that laughed in the face of every gym membership gathering dust in my drawer. Not to mention the occasional grey hairs that began appearing a year ago and had suddenly picked up momentum.

I barely recognised the man in the mirror, fourteen years and a lifetime ago from the teenager he’d once been. And it wasn’t just about the looks. Most of the dreams I’d nurtured as a kid had died a lonely death as well.

“Are you going to get in that shower or not?” Hannah called from the kitchen. “I’m ready to put the toast in.”

“On it.” Enough navel gazing. I flicked the shower mixer all the way around to way too fucking hot but that’s how I like it and stepped under the spray. I was out and halfway dressed when Hannah knocked on the bedroom door.

“Mum wants to talk to you.”

Mum. I couldn’t stop the flinch that came with hearing Hannah use that name for the woman who’d walked out on both of us when Hannah was four years old and newly diagnosed. A few letters a year that slowly dwindled to nothing didn’t make her deserving of the title, and although I’d tried to keep my feelings on the matter hidden from Hannah, I wasn’t at all sure how successful I’d been.

“I could hear you growling from the hall.” Hannah shoved her cell phone into my hand the minute I opened the door. “Play nice.”

Apparently, I hadn’t been very successful at all.

I pushed the door closed and walked over to the window. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself.” Amber sounded relaxed and happy, which only pissed me off further. “Hannah seems to be having a ball down there. I’ve never heard her so excited, especially about next year.”

“Nothing is decided yet,” I snapped, my stomach curling into a knot. “And I’d appreciate you not building her hopes up. You don’t get a say in this, Amber.”

Amber was quiet for a moment. “I wasn’t asking for one. Just know that I’m here if you can use me in any way.”

I didn’t respond. Amber had been back in Hannah’s life all of two seconds and was already shaking things up. She’d married a few years back and was living in Wellington—go figure. And when she’d heard Hannah was thinking of going to Nolan, she’d been quick to offer help, telling Hannah that she had family on call if she needed it.

Family? Jesus Christ. Amber wouldn’t know the meaning of the word if it slapped her in the face. And yes, I realised the total injustice of that statement. People change and I was sure Amber had changed as well. I just wasn’t sure I cared.

The silence built and Amber sighed. “I’m not the enemy, Terry. I’m trying really hard to make up in some small way for what I did back then.”

I huffed, unable to hide the disgust in my tone. “Yeah, well, forgive me if I don’t get too excited about your efforts. We could’ve done with some of that a long time ago.” I winced at the anger in my voice. Dammit. I’d promised myself I wouldn’t let her get to me anymore.

“Do you think I don’t know that?” she answered softly. “I’ll keep apologising for what I did as long as I live. You don’t have to like me, Terry. In fact, you don’t have to have anything to do with me at all. What I did was inexcusable. I was young and scared and depressed. I used to look at her and feel... nothing. Do you know how terrifying that is? I had zero idea how to be a parent.”

“And you think I did?” I scoffed. “I was drowning too, Amber. But when you left, I didn’t have a choice.”

She sighed. “I know. You were always stronger than me. I ran and I shouldn’t have. I know that. I should’ve stayed and got some help. Like I did later. The crazy thing is, the only reason I was even able to leave was because I knew she was safe with you. Safer than she was with me. Better off. You were— are a much better parent than I would ever have been to Hannah. I was a mess?—”

“So was I,” I reminded her, bitterly. “You weren’t the only one who was terrified.”

“I know,” she admitted quietly. “But I wasn’t exactly thinking straight. And at least your parents had your back. They were amazing. Mine just didn’t want to know.” She sighed and took a deep breath. “I can’t change the past no matter how much I might want to. I’m just trying to be a part of Hannah’s life in whatever way she’ll have me, and I count myself lucky that she seems to want that too.”

Unfortunately, she was right.

But Amber didn’t stop there. “Who knows, maybe the move to Wellington will turn out to be a good thing for all of us.”

My head snapped up. “What exactly does that mean?”

“Nothing.” She quickly backtracked. “I only meant that you’ve done such an amazing job bringing her up to have her even ready for something like this.”

“I don’t know that she is. Ready, I mean,” I said flatly.

Amber sighed. “Well, if you do decide that she can take the scholarship, then all I’m saying is that I can be on call for her if she needs it, so you can have a bit of a life again too. Maybe even meet someone.”

I bristled. “Meet someone? Like you did, you mean? When you had zero other responsibilities. My role as Hannah’s dad doesn’t stop just because she goes to a boarding school, you know. I’m in this thing for life. And I’ll be the one on call for her, not you.” I was overreacting and I knew it.

“Hannah really wants to do this, Terry,” Amber said very carefully. “Maybe it’s you who’s not ready.”

And that was it. I was done. “Now wait just a goddammed minute.” I was shouting and couldn’t seem to stop. “You know nothing about me and damn little about Hannah, so don’t think you can stumble back into our lives after ten years and suddenly become some kind of expert. Who the hell do you think you are? And just so you know, if, and I repeat if , I agree to Hannah attending Nolan next year, it won’t be without me. She’s only fourteen, Amber. She’s too young to know what’s good for her or what she can and can’t cope with. So, it doesn’t matter if you’re there or not. I’ll be there, looking after her like I’ve always done.”

“Terry, I just?—”

“No,” I talked over her. “I’m asking you to keep your opinions about Nolan to yourself around Hannah. You don’t get a say in this, and I won’t have you whispering in her ear about things that are none of your concern and making me look like the bad guy. Understand?”

Amber said nothing.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” I fumed, my fists clenched around the phone. “And now I’m done with this conversation.” I hung up without giving her an opportunity to respond and threw the phone on the bed. Then I wrung my shaking hands together and whisper-shouted into the room, “Fucking fuck, fuck.”

But it was a little late for discretion. When I turned to leave the room, Hannah was standing in the open doorway watching me with sad eyes.

She shook her head. “So that went well.”

Shit. “Hannah, I?—”

“And it’s not eavesdropping when you’re shouting the cottage down, just so you know,” she pointed out, the hurt carved deep on her face. “I love you, Dad. But you’re wrong. I do know what’s good for me, and a future with dance in it is good for me. And I know what my body can handle. It’s my body after all, not yours. And do you really think I’d put my future at risk by not taking my pills, or being careful enough, or not using my aids? I might make other stupid choices. I’m a teenager, after all. I’m supposed to do that, like every other able-bodied kid out there.” She paused for emphasis, and shame curled in my chest.

“But when that happens,” she kept going. “I also know that you’ll have my back. I know I can call you any time and you’ll be there. You taught me that. You taught me to take risks and believe in myself. And up till a minute ago, I thought you believed in me too.”

Oh fuck . I stepped toward her but she retreated. “Hannah, I’m sorry. I do believe in you. You know I do. I was just angry. Your mother?—”

“Is my mother,” she stated baldly. “She’ll never be you , Dad, but she does care. And she is trying. Don’t you think I deserve to get to know her a little? Yes, she walked out on us, and I still hate her a bit for that, but I’m trying to give her a chance.” She paused, drawing a shaky breath. “Maybe you could try too, even if just for me.” She closed her eyes and took a breath. When she opened them again, the disappointment I saw rocked me to the core. “Breakfast is on the table,” she huffed. “I’m not hungry anymore.” And with that, she headed to her bedroom and slammed the door.

I tried to follow, to apologise again, but when I knocked on the honey-coloured wood, Hannah sent me packing. So instead I sat at the dining table and played with my cold toast, feeling like a shit father.

I was fucking this whole thing up and everyone knew it. Hannah, Judah, even Amber. Trouble was, I didn’t know how to stop the train wreck I could see was coming up fast. If I didn’t get my head out of my arse soon, none of us was going to survive this in one piece.

The worst of it was that I suspected Amber had nailed it when she said it was me who wasn’t ready for Hannah to take up this opportunity, not Hannah, and knowing even she could see it so clearly just made me want to scream. She didn’t have the right to know me that well. It was me who’d held the fort when she’d scarpered. Me who’d been the one to hold Hannah and cry with her when the pain was too crippling to handle. Me who’d given up everything to make sure Hannah had the best chance to reach her full potential in life. And now I was fucking it up.

How to feel like a selfish bastard in one easy lesson.

I’d only managed one bite of my toast when Hannah reappeared fifteen minutes later. She chatted away as if nothing had happened but her mood felt brittle. I was about to try and explain my behaviour again, but she raised her hand.

“Please, can we just leave it, Dad? We’ve got a big day,” she said by way of explanation. “I don’t want Gabby worried.”

I glanced at the retriever and nodded glumly. “Fair enough.”

“Have you asked if I can see Miller?” Hannah pierced me with a look that dared me to risk her ire further. Never said my little girl wasn’t smart.

“I’ll call today,” I promised.

Seemingly satisfied with that, Hannah disappeared into the bathroom to titivate her hair into something more stylish than just the usual ponytail she wore at home. I suspected she might have a little crush on Zach, regardless of the man’s sexuality, and it wasn’t like I could blame her. Zach was a handsome guy. But for all his clean-cut country-boy looks, the shepherd didn’t unbalance me in nearly the same way that Spencer did.

When Zach’s ute pulled in front of the cottage a little before eight thirty, Gabby ran to the window and Hannah yelled for me to tell Zach she wouldn’t be long.

I opened the front door and held up my hand, indicating five minutes.

Zach nodded and cut the engine. Then he slid out of the driver’s seat and wandered around the ute to meet me coming down the path. The early November sun cast a warm glow over my skin, lifting my spirits from the doldrums cast by the morning’s family drama.

“I packed a few goodies for your morning and afternoon tea.” I handed Hannah’s backpack to Zach along with a container full of cheese and crackers and chocolates.

“Awesome. I’ve got a chilly bin in the back. And we’ll need Hannah’s chair today. I want to see how they work with it.”

I ran back to get Hannah’s wheelchair and then watched as Zach stowed the food in the cooler and the chair safely on the bed of the ute. A leggy huntaway eyed me curiously from his cage and I let him sniff the back of my hand. “Hello, boy.”

“This is Jojo.” Zach smiled softly at the dog. “Holden used her on the hill yesterday, so I’m dropping her off at ours on the way past. Hannah and Gabby are going off-piste with me today. I want to see how they work together in and around town—shops, roads, people, cafés, tourists, buses, other dogs, the whole gamut. From the sound of it, Painted Bay is a teeny tiny place and I need to see if their training carries over to a more complicated environment. If anything needs tweaking, I’ll add it to the list, but I also suggest you try and get Hannah and Gabby into Auckland a few times over the next couple of months. It all helps.”

I nodded. “Understood.”

Jojo let out a mournful bellow and I almost jumped out of my skin. “Man, she’s loud.”

Zach laughed. “Yeah, she’s pissed she’s missing out on working the woolshed today. Holden’s brought in some of the mob for a vet check.” He shot me a thoughtful look. “You should wander over if you’ve got nothing else planned. It can be quite entertaining.”

My gaze slid sideways to Jojo and I schooled my expression. “Is that so? Maybe I will.”

The sound of tyres rolling on gravel caught Zach’s attention and he chuckled. “Speak of the devil.”

I followed his gaze to where Spencer’s ute was coming up the drive on its way to the woolshed, no doubt. Just the sight of him waving from the driver’s seat set my heart a thumping. Jesus Christ. What was it about the man?

Before the ute passed, it slowed down, and Spencer called out the driver’s window, “Morning Zach. Terry.” His gaze lingered on mine. “Remember to have some fun today, yeah?” Then he tooted his horn and was gone in a cloud of dust, leaving me red-faced and awkward.

Zach turned to me with surprise written on his face. And did I mention awkward? “Fun, huh? Is there something I’m missing?”

My cheeks blew hot. “He’s just teasing me. Did you hear about the dog I found?”

Zach grinned. “Miller, right? And yes, everyone knows about Miller.”

I groaned, “Fucking small towns.”

Zach laughed.

“Anyway,” I continued, “I was telling Spencer about not being used to having spare time on my hands, and he suggested I try and have some fun.” I pulled a face and shrugged. “I’m not sure I even know what that means anymore.”

“Sounds serious,” Zach observed.

I huffed. “Just you wait until your baby arrives. I’m gonna call and ask how much spare time and fun you’re having then.”

Zach grinned and raised both hands. “You’ve made your case.”

I looked across to where the dust was still settling on the driveway. “Spencer meant well, and he has a point. He’s a friendly guy.”

Zach chuckled. “Oh yeah. Our Spencer is a very friendly guy. Friendly, friendly, friendly.”

The way he said it had me narrowing my eyes. “Now you’ve got me curious.”

Zach shook his head. “Nothing to worry about. And I’m just kidding. Spencer is a great guy. One of the best. But he’s also the most eligible bachelor around these parts. Good-looking. Owns his own business. Has all his teeth. There’s a trail of broken hearts all over the Mackenzie.”

“Oh.” My blush deepened as everything suddenly made sense. I wasn’t special at all. Spencer’s flirtatiousness was simply a natural part of who he was.

“So how is our namesake doing?” Zach’s question jolted me back to the conversation. “Miller?” He replied to my questioning frown.

“Oh, right. Spencer said he’s fine. And I’m sorry about the name. I warned Spencer that I was crap with that stuff, but he thought Miller was a good option. He said he once had a German shepherd called Miller.”

Zach blinked. “Really? That’s odd. I thought I knew all Spencer’s dogs.”

“It was when he was a kid,” I quickly explained, sensing I’d somehow made a mistake. “On his family’s farm back in Martinborough.”

Zach stared at me. “Spencer comes from Martinborough?” He looked confused. “I always thought he was a born and bred Southerner. Then again, he never talks about his background much, or at all, if I’m honest. We even joke that he sprang from the womb with a stethoscope in one hand and a pair of long rubber gloves in the other.”

“Oh.” I wasn’t sure what to say to that. “We just got to talking, I suppose.”

“I guess you did.” Zach studied me with obvious interest and my palms started to sweat.

The crunch-crunch of Hannah’s elbow crutches on the gravel allowed me to duck Zach’s shrewd gaze and put an end to the conversation.

“There you are.” I opened the passenger door for Hannah to climb in.

“Sorry,” she puffed. “I forgot Gabby’s service jacket.” She declined my offer of help and set about clambering into the ute on her own.

“No problem. And I asked your dad to get your chair. We’re going to try a few different mobility challenges today.”

Hannah beamed. “Cool.” She settled herself in the front seat and I opened the rear door for Gabby.

The retriever leaped gracefully into the ute trailing her lead behind, not that she really needed it. When she was working, Gabby stuck to Hannah’s side like glue, the lead secured somewhere on Hannah’s person or her chair on a quick-release clip.

“I’ll have her back by five,” Zach said, sliding into the driver’s seat and buckling his seat belt. He shot me a wink. “It’s date night with Luke and he gets grumpy when I’m late.”

I grinned. “Well, we can’t have that.”

Zach rolled his eyes and started the ute. “It’s his turn to plan, so God knows what we’ll be doing. Last time it was a picnic in the whelping room with a new litter of pups clambering all over us. Take it from me, eau de puppy pee does not make for a romantic setting.” But his soft shiny eyes told another story. “See you at five.”

A cloud of dust followed their journey along the station road toward Tekapo. I watched until they were out of view.

Have some fun. Spencer’s words rang in my head, and I briefly speculated what his take on the whole Hannah-Amber fiasco might’ve been. Then I wondered why I even cared what he thought? Spencer had even less right to an opinion on Hannah’s future than Amber. And yet for some reason, I did care, and I found myself wanting to tell him and wanting to hear his response.

Have some fun.

I groaned aloud as I glanced between the cottage, the driveway that led to the woolshed, and the lake. The forecast was for a clear sunny morning but with rain rolling in by midday. I had a lot of hours to fill until Hannah returned, and I wasn’t much for sitting around. Between the store and Hannah, my life was a constant whirlwind.

I spun toward the lake and took a few calming breaths. The air was heavy with the scent of damp grass, a crisp mineral tang from the lake, and a warm musky odour rolling down from the woolshed. The occasional bleating of sheep cut through the still of the morning, but the sound only added to the peace, like white noise.

My jaw worked as I debated my options. Spencer had been clear in his invitation to visit in the woolshed and maybe even have lunch together. But what would the others think? And why did I even care? No one knew me in the Mackenzie. And there was no guarantee Spencer would even have time to talk, regardless of what he’d said. Plus, Zach had been clear that the man was known for his liaisons. What if I was just another challenge in his eyes?

Have some fun. Step outside your comfort zone. Spencer’s words again.

I strolled down to the lake’s edge, dipped my toes in the crystal-clear water, and gasped. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph . I yanked them back onto the warm stones and sucked in a breath. It felt like it had just melted from the glacier that morning. People swam in that? Were they fucking crazy?

I glanced once more to the driveway and then back to the lake. I replayed the morning’s disaster in my head, the look of disappointment on Hannah’s face, and thought, fuck it.

Before I could change my mind, I’d stripped down to my briefs, left my clothes hanging on the old rowboat, and taken the plunge.

And motherfucking fuckity fucking shitballs, it was freezing fucking cold.

So cold I couldn’t catch my breath.

So cold my brain shut down in protest, which was probably a good thing as it meant my reflexes took over to keep me from drowning and force some oxygen into my lungs.

I gulped some air and then dived under the water, pumping my arms and legs to jump-start some circulation. And when the blessed numbness finally kicked in, I pushed off the bottom and swam the fastest twenty-five metres in the history of the world before beating a hasty retreat back to the shore, cursing and stumbling over the uneven stones with my blue balls lodged somewhere around my armpits; my skin a charming shade of what-the-fuck-are-you-doing corpse white; and a jump-the-queue fast ticket to hypothermia.

Safely out of the water, I grabbed my clothes and sprinted for the cottage and the hottest shower I could possibly stand. A few minutes later as I stood under the steaming needles of water wearing a grin from ear to ear, I realised I’d forgotten all about my shit start to the morning, and I’d actually had fun, goddammit. Motherfucking Spencer Thompson could eat his damned heart out and I couldn’t wait to tell him.