SHE WAS SCRUBBING the kennels when Bryn came to find her the next morning. Not that they needed scrubbing, but she had to do something. She’d been up since dawn, edgy and unhappy, and here in the kennels, chatting to the last of her resident dogs, she could find a kind of peace.
Today Bryn and Alice would be leaving. With the cheque she’d receive for services rendered she could reopen the empty pens. She could hire someone to help her until Maureen was fit enough to come back. She could move on.
She’d done a great job these last weeks, uniting one sad dog with one bereft child. She should be over the moon.
Instead she was scrubbing and swearing—and occasionally pausing to swipe a sleeve across her eyes.
And then the pen door swung open. Bryn’s beautiful brogues were suddenly at foot level. Uh oh. She sniffed and swiped her face a couple more times before she hauled herself up to face him.
‘It’s the disinfectant,’ she said, and for the life of her she couldn’t stop herself sounding defensive. ‘It makes my eyes water.’
He handed her a handkerchief—oh, for heaven’s sake, it was linen. She repaid his generosity by blowing her nose and pocketing it.
‘I’ll post it back washed,’ she told him.
‘Keep it.’
‘Then deduct it from my pay.’
‘Kiara...’
‘Let’s get this over with,’ she said roughly. ‘Are you packed? Where’s Alice?’
‘I assumed she was out here with you.’
‘I haven’t seen her.’ She frowned. For the last few days, the little girl had been bouncing out of bed at the first sound of anyone stirring. This morning she’d assumed she was in the house with Bryn. ‘Maybe she’s just savouring her last morning in the attic.’
But she saw unease on Bryn’s face at the same time she felt it herself, and wordlessly they made their way back to the house. Up to the attic.
With Bryn still limping—he should still be using his cane—Kiara beat him to the top of the stairs. She knocked. ‘Alice?’
Nothing.
Her heart did a stupid lurch. Maybe she was out in the garden, she told herself. Feeding the chooks one last time? But surely, she would have seen...
She knocked again and entered.
No Alice. No Bunji. Just a bed, carefully made, and a note lying on the coverlet.
Dear Kiara
I heard you and Bryn talking last night. I know you can’t afford to keep me, and Bryn doesn’t want me, but Maureen does. She tells me all the time.
She says, ‘You’re just like my grown-up girls. My house is so empty now. I’d love it if I could take you home with me.’
Maureen kisses me and hugs me, and I like it. Bryn says she’s getting better, so I’m going to find her and ask. If she says no, then I’ll have to stay with Bryn, but Bunji and I want to try.
Bryn says it’s just over the mountains. I saw the glow last night. We’re leaving now, really early, so I can still see the glow and know the way.
I made Bunji and me two jam sandwiches. I took an apple, and I borrowed your yellow torch. I hope you don’t mind. We might be gone all day but don’t worry.
Alice
Bryn was now in the doorway. She handed him the note and then went to the high gable window that looked out over the mountains toward Sydney.
Alice could surely have seen Sydney last night. It was such a vast city that its glow could be seen for miles. Many, many miles.
And between here and that glow was a mountain range so vast, so overwhelming that it had taken years before the first settlers had found courage and endurance enough to cross it. The Great Dividing Range. The Blue Mountains. Most of it was impenetrable bushland, peaks, chasms, ravines, land so wild it had never been—could never be—built on.
If Alice had left before dawn... Dear God, she’d been gone for at least three hours. Maybe more. How long before dawn had she left? She’d have been walking in the dark.
She turned and saw Bryn staring at the note. His face was as ashen as hers felt.
‘She’ll have gone out the back,’ she managed, but her voice was a thready croak. ‘If she’s following the glow... She can’t possibly be trying to go by road—from here the road looks like it’s going in the wrong direction.’
Then he was at the window beside her, staring out across the wilderness. A few hundred metres from the house the land fell away to a massive ravine. They could see the rock walls of the other side.
‘She’ll have tried to go around,’ Kiara whispered. ‘She’ll never have tried to go straight across.’
‘She doesn’t know...’ It was a groan. ‘Hell. She heard what I said. Kiara, she heard. She thinks I don’t want her.’
There was a moment’s silence while last night’s conversation replayed in both their heads, and if Bryn’s face was ashen before then it was worse now.
‘We’ll find her.’ She put her hand on his shoulder and then, because it seemed the only thing to do and she needed it as well, she tugged him tight and held. There was no time, but for these few seconds she took what she needed from that hug. And maybe he did as well, because when they parted his face was set.
‘I’ll go. There looks a path leading from the back...’
‘There is,’ she told him. ‘But it peters out when the ground drops sharply at the edge of the ravine. There’s a viewing platform Grandma built.’
‘Then that’s where I’ll start. She might even have had the sense to stop there.’
‘If she did then she’d be back now.’
‘Then I’ll go on. I have my phone. If I find her, I’ll ring, but can you contact emergency services? Surely they’ll come.’ He was already heading for the door.
‘Bryn. Stop!’ She made her voice as firm as she could make it, and it came out almost as a yell. ‘No. You can’t make bad worse.’
He paused, looked back, looking ill. ‘I have to go.’
‘Do you know these mountains?’
‘No, but...’
‘And is your leg strong enough to climb? To move fast?’
There was a dreadful silence. His leg was healing. Every day it grew stronger, but he still walked with a perceptible limp.
‘Kiara, I have to.’ It came out a groan and she moved again to hug, a strong, all-encompassing hold where she held as much of him as she could.
‘It’ll be hard,’ she managed, forcing back fear that made her own legs tremble. A little girl, out there alone... It felt appalling but she had to be sensible, and she had to make Bryn see sense as well. ‘Bryn, you put your life on the line once before for Alice, but this isn’t such a life and death situation. Sure, it’s thick bush, but it’s daylight now and she has Bunji. If she was on her own, she might try and climb down unsafe places to take a shortcut, but Bunji’s limping, too, and she loves her.’
‘So I’ll find her...’
‘You won’t.’ She put all the authority she could muster into her voice. ‘Bryn, we’ll have help in minutes. The first responders will be the team from the local fire brigade. They know this country like the back of their hands—they spend half their time fighting fires, and the rest of their time looking for lost hikers. I’ll go with them because this area around here is my domain. Grandma taught me all about her country. I know every animal trail, every track within five kilometres. There’s a sort of track leading down into the first ravine. If we can’t find her within an hour, we’ll send for back up. Because it’s a child, we’ll have rescue teams, helicopters, the works. But, Bryn, you need to stay here.’
‘I can’t.
‘You must. There’s every possibility she’ll change her mind when it gets hard, and she’ll come back. You need to be here.’
‘I can’t bear...’
‘You have to bear,’ she told him. ‘We’ll find her.’
He stared at her wildly, raked his hair and then swore and swore again. ‘I do love her,’ he said helplessly.
And at that, she drew his head down to hers and she kissed him. Hard, long, fiercely.
‘I think you do,’ she said simply when she finally pulled away. ‘I’ve watched you with her. I think...maybe you love more than you believe you possibly can?’
What followed was a nightmare.
Waiting, waiting, waiting.
As Kiara promised, the fire brigade arrived in minutes. Serious men and women, dressed in bright yellow clothing and sturdy boots, with two-way radios, backpacks with ropes, medical supplies, compasses, maps.
It was obvious that Kiara was right—they did spend half their time searching for lost hikers. Their captain spoke seriously to Kiara and to Bryn, and a search was organised in minutes. The captain saw Bryn’s limp at a glance, and she handed him a receiver.
‘If I can leave this with you then I won’t have to leave one of my team behind,’ she told him, and he wondered if she said that to any relative desperate about a lost one. As if giving him a job could take his mind off worry. Ha!
‘If we don’t find her in an hour, we’ll bring in further emergency services and choppers,’ he was told. ‘We have heat-seeking choppers if we need them—kangaroos mess with thermal imaging but our people are pretty good at discerning what’s ’roo and what’s kid. And you said she has a dog with her? That’s a double image and it should help. We’ll report back to you, and you’ll hear everything that’s going on. Don’t worry, mate, we’ll have her back to you in no time.’
They didn’t.
Three hours later there was a lot more than one fire brigade team searching. Police were tracing every sighting of a kid and dog between here and the hospital—just in case Alice had changed her mind about the route. There were now ten official trucks lined up on the road outside. Emergency services had split into teams and were heading in from here. Others, Bryn gathered, were heading in from the other side of the ravine. As soon as word went out, local bushwalking groups, plus concerned locals, had abandoned their plans for the day and were splitting into more teams, heading down the ravine from a myriad entry points. There were two choppers overhead.
How hard could it be to find one kid and one dog?
There were more people in the kitchen now—they’d set it up as a field base for all services. He was still allowed to be on radio duty, but the set was taken over when orders had to be relayed.
He was going mad, and as the day wore on it grew worse. He tried to phone Kiara, but her phone seemed dead. ‘There’s no reception at the bottom of the ravines,’ one of the emergency services people told him. ‘She’ll be with a team, and if she needs to contact you, she can use their radio.’
She didn’t.
The day wore on. He couldn’t eat. He couldn’t think. As dusk fell and one of the local ladies—Donna had organised a food tent out at the front—put a hamburger in front of him he thought he might be ill.
Finally, someone handed him a radio. ‘It’s Miss Brail, sir. Wanting to talk.’
‘Kiara.’
‘Bryn.’ Her voice was unsteady, and she tried again. ‘Bryn.’
‘No...’
‘No news. But I’m at the bottom of the second ravine. The experts have done an assessment and they think, given the time frame, she may well have made it to here. The guys have camping gear. They dropped in supplies so we’re staying put for the night. We figure...’ Her voice cracked a little, but he heard a ragged breath and then she continued, more calmly. ‘The thought is that she and Bunji are probably hunkered down behind a log, or somewhere that takes the edge from the wind. It’s breezy down here and...and she’ll be cold. Thank God it isn’t raining. But we’re searching again from dawn. Teams are searching across the top ridges and working their way down. We’ll find her.’
‘But tonight...’
‘She has Bunji and she’s a sensible kid. We’ll find her.’
‘Kiara...’
‘See if you can get some sleep, Bryn.’
‘As if I could.’
‘I know. Bryn...’
‘Kiara...’
‘I know it won’t work,’ she whispered softly. ‘But for what it’s worth... know that I love you.’
And she disconnected.
How was a man to sleep after that? He didn’t bother to get undressed, just lay in the dark and stared at the ceiling.
Somewhere out there was a little girl lost. A kid who needed him, who depended on him.
Somewhere out there was Kiara.
A woman who loved him.
He could do nothing.
And at some time in the small hours, when the lorikeets in the gums outside were starting their pre-dawn squawking, when the kookaburras’ raucous laughter was once again starting to echo across the valley, he was hit by self-knowledge that almost blindsided him.
He’d been thinking, Why not me who could be there searching?
He’d been thinking, Why not me who could be lost?
He’d swap with each of them in a heartbeat, and with the first rays of dawn there it was. The sickening realisation that if he lost either of them, he’d lose part of himself.
They were part of him. How could he exist if he lost either? He’d do anything—anything—to keep them safe, happy...home.
Was that what was meant by love?
And as the sun slowly rose over the mountains, he knew that it was.
They found them at midday.
There was a crackle on the main receiver set. Bryn was sitting on the veranda steps, staring bleakly at nothing, and he heard someone answer. With so many search teams on the ground and in the air, the job of manning the main receiver had been handed to someone who was not...so emotionally involved? A cop. Sergeant Someone. There were so many people now, so many teams using this as a base.
But as the receiver cracked into life, everyone stilled as they always did. Straining to hear.
‘Is that right?’ And with that...was there exultation in the exclamation? He couldn’t hear what was being said at the other end, but he could hear the cop. And unbelievingly he heard: ‘Yeah? Both safe? And the dog? Well, I’ll be... Geezers, mate, you’ve made our day. Give us a minute while I go tell the dad.’
The dad. With strangers coming and going, introductions had been brief and relationships had been blurred. Maybe it had just been assumed that he was family?
But then the cop was out on the veranda, kneeling beside him, hand on his shoulder.
‘They’re safe, mate. All of them. Your missus was in the team that found them. They’ve been huddled in some sort of cave, scared to go on. It seems the kid had the sense to stay put when she realised she was lost. She’s a bit scratched, hungry and thirsty and cold, but the guys said to tell you your missus is sitting on the ground with them, bawling her eyes out, hugging kid and dog like she’ll never let go. We’ll winch them all out as soon as we can but, mate, they’re gonna be okay.’
There was a cheer around them, small at first as only those within earshot had heard, but then the ladies in the food tent outside heard, the teams changing shifts heard, the nosy parkers who’d edged into the front yard heard. The car horns went, the town heard, the roar of celebration rang out seemingly over the whole mountain range.
They were safe.
His family was safe. His little girl. His floppy-eared dog.
His Kiara. His love.
His life.
Two hours later Kiara was sitting in a chopper, going home. Alice, bundled in blankets, was huddled close. Bunji was wedged somewhere between them.
I’ll take them, she thought as the chopper rose from the ravine where Alice and Bunji had spent an appalling thirty-six hours. If Bryn really doesn’t want them then they’ll stay with me. Whatever it takes... Sure, I’ll be broke but if I give up Two Tails, get a job as a normal vet, I might be able to afford...
She was too tired to get past that thought. The chopper was sky-high now, clearing the massive eucalypts, heading home.
And then they were descending, to land on Birralong’s football field. She could see clusters of people beneath them. A crowd to welcome them home.
There was a cloud of dust as the chopper settled and then a wait until the blades stopped rotating.
‘We’re not going to go to all this trouble to see you swiped with blades,’ one of the crew told her, and his grin matched the relief in her own heart.
So many people who cared.
Maybe she could stay at Two Tails. Maybe the community might help. Maybe...
And then the rotors stilled, and silence fell. The doors were hauled back and people in green camouflage suits—army?—were helping them down.
She hardly saw them, because coming towards them...
Bryn.
Maybe someone had been holding him back because he emerged from the crowd like a runner released by the starter’s gun. His limp simply wasn’t there. Ten long strides, five interminable seconds, and he was with her.
She was set down by the chopper. The ground felt good under her feet. Great. Alice was being handed down after, and she went to take her into her arms.
But Bryn was before her. He was gathering Alice up, tight against his chest and then, in one purposeful move, he was gathering her in as well. Alice was sandwich-squeezed between them, and they were hugged as if he’d never let them go.
‘Br... Bryn...’ Alice quavered, as if the child was scared of a scolding.
‘Oh, love,’ Bryn said and then there was a silence while he hugged some more and struggled to find words to go on.
But then the words came...
‘Maybe you’d better call me Dad,’ Bryn told her, and he kissed the top of her head. ‘I think... You’ve never had a dad, have you? Alice, I was so scared. I thought I’d lost you. Alice, what you heard me say was dumb. You and me...we’re family. We’re a team. And if it’s okay with you, I’ll never let you go.’
‘D-Dad?’ Alice said wonderingly and subsided into her blankets and was hugged some more.
Bunji was at their feet now. One of the team had set her down and she’d gone straight to them, part of the sandwich hug.
Part of family?
‘Love?’ Now Bryn was talking to her. To Kiara. She pulled back a little so she could see his face, and what she saw there... She went straight back into the hug. Back into where she most wanted to be in the world.
‘You know what I said about marriage?’ Bryn’s voice was still unsteady.
‘Mmff?’ It was all she could say. Her face was muffled against his chest. People were milling around them now, people cheering, guys with cameras, journalists with notebooks ready. The noise was deafening but she heard only Bryn.
‘I’d like to restart that conversation.’
‘Mmm... Mmmff?’
And when he started talking it was as if they were completely alone, in their own world, a world where suddenly, magically, things were as right as they could possibly be.
‘I got it wrong,’ he told her, and his hold tightened even further. ‘Kiara, you know all those dumb banners that people put up when they propose, saying Love you for ever. Will you marry me?—that sort of thing?’
‘Um...yes?’ Sort of. She was so confused but she managed to get the word out.
‘I should have organised banners,’ he told her. ‘In fact, I still will. A million banners, my love, or at least as many banners as the sky can hold. If they’re not real to the world, then they’ll be real to us.’
‘B...?’
‘Banners,’ he said, definitely and surely. And the banners will say only one thing. Kiara, you have my heart.’
They honeymooned in Queensland. If Bryn had ever thought of honeymoons he might have thought of the Bahamas, Hawaii, the Maldives, somewhere exotic and sensational. But when he and Kiara thought about it there seemed no option but to make their honeymoon a family affair. Which meant staying in Australia because...well, dog.
‘Because this is what we are,’ Bryn had said. ‘From this day forth, we’re a family, so let’s start as we mean to go on. All in.’
Which meant Alice—of course. And then Bunji—naturally.
And then, when Kiara suggested they might like a little—just a little—time alone, Bryn had thought about Maureen, now almost recovered, back home with her beloved Jim, aching to be with Kiara and Alice but still a little shaky and frail. He’d tossed the idea to Kiara and she’d beamed. Thus they’d suggested Maureen and Jim might like to join them. A little Bunji and Alice dog-and-kid-minding might suit everyone.
Then they chose as their destination one of the magnificent islands bordering the Great Barrier Reef—one of the few where turtles didn’t breed because...well...still dog. There was no way Bunji could be left behind.
They rented two beachfront villas, but then Kiara’s friend Hazel said there was no way her best friend was being married without her. That meant hiring yet another villa, because Hazel would be travelling with her brand-new husband, Finn, and the pair intended to bring their precious, ready-made family as well.
And finally, on a stunning morning on a pristine, sun-soaked, tide-washed beach, Kiara Brail and Bryn Dalton were ready to be married.
Bryn stood on the sand before the celebrant, under the slightly wobbly arch of frangipani that Alice and Maureen and Jim had constructed with care and with love and with laughter. Behind him was Maureen, already sniffing and clutching her Jim, then Hazel’s beloved Finn, Finn’s daughter, Finn’s granddaughter, and then a dog called Bunji and a dog called Ben.
Both rescue dogs.
But who had been rescued? Bryn thought, as he faced the celebrant, a wizened old surfer with a smile almost as broad as his face. It felt as if he had. And suddenly he was thinking of ‘Two Tails.’
Two Tails had been named because of the phrase happy as a pup with two tails.
It had also been named for the combination of words: two tales—the story of before and after.
That pretty much summed up his life, he thought. This was his second tale—his happy ever after. His life felt as if it was starting right now.
He’d already made some huge changes. He’d keep his medicine because that was what he did, but it needed to be a part of his life, not the whole. He’d resigned from his teaching role, and he’d quit as head of department at Sydney Central. Amazingly his resignations had left him almost giddy with relief. There was no way they’d move Two Tails—it was perfect where it was, and he wanted to be part of it. With his money, with Hazel and Finn’s support, it could be the best refuge ever.
The best home ever.
Where they could always be...well, happy as a pup with two tails.
Coming down the sandhills now were Alice and Hazel, bridesmaids in matching flowing sarongs, beaming like two conniving archangels whose plans had finally come to fruition. And here was Kiara. His bride.
She was simply dressed in soft white broderie anglaise—Alice had whispered to him that that was what the lacy confection was. It was sleeveless, clinging to her breasts, moulded to her waist and then flowing in soft folds to her bare feet and ankles. It was all white, bar for the tiny rainbow ribbons threaded through the lace. Her dusky curls were threaded with the same ribbon, and Alice had tucked frangipani into her hair.
‘She’s going to look bee-yoo-tiful,’ she’d told Bryn and as the music swelled, as he turned to watch his bride approach, Bryn could only agree.
Mind, she would have looked beautiful in dungarees, he thought. She was his Kiara. His love. His life.
The music faded from the sound system the celebrant had set up, and the old surfer beamed at the pair of them. ‘Are you ready to start?’
Was he ready? Kiara looked up at him, her eyes misty, and he thought his heart might well burst.
Two tales—before and after.
Happy as a dog with two tails.
Perfect.
He couldn’t resist. He kissed the bride, right there and then, and then he nodded to the celebrant.
‘We’re ready,’ he said, and Kiara smiled and smiled.
‘Yes, we are,’ she whispered, and kissed him back. ‘We’re ready for the rest of our lives.’
If you missed the previous story in the Two Tails Animal Refuge duet, then check out
The Vet’s Unexpected Family
by Alison Roberts
If you enjoyed this story, check out these other great reads from Marion Lennox
Healing Her Brooding Island Hero
Falling for His Island Nurse
Mistletoe Kiss with the Heart Doctor
All available now!
Keep reading for an excerpt from One Night with the Sicilian Surgeon by Tina Beckett.