Chapter Three

Izzy

I’m so shocked, I stay sitting there, staring after him.

He and Rosie have broken up?

Stunned into silence, I watch Albie and Leon, Hal’s cousins, walking across the grass to the offices, one of Leon’s four dogs, a Wire Fox Terrier called Wishbone, leaping around them trying to get at the ball in his hand, but my mind’s filled with thoughts of Hal, as I think back over my long relationship with him.

Throughout his youth, well, right up to his mid-twenties, Hal was a tomcat, going out with a different girl every week, making his way through the university until I was sure he’d slept with every single female there except me, even the teachers. It was just the way he was. He didn’t take anything seriously except his studies, although I have no idea how he managed to do so well when I’m sure he didn’t get a second of sleep, judging by how exhausted the girls were who rolled out of his room in the mornings.

We graduated veterinary school together, and I was just starting to look around for jobs when he, Leon, and Albie sat me and a couple of the other graduates down and told us about their new plan to start up an animal sanctuary. They explained that it was going to be an independent foundation, although they were going to work closely with the SPCA, which is why many of us are also SPCA officers.

All three cousins are incredibly wealthy, although you’d never guess it from looking at them as they don’t flash their money around, apart from Leon, sometimes, who likes his sports cars and fancy suits.

They get their money from their fathers, the three King brothers who run the Three Wise Men business that makes medical equipment for children. It says something about Hal and the guys, though, that—just like their fathers—they all want to use their money to help others. With the fathers, it was sick kids, with their sons, it’s animals in need.

It was Noah, Matt King’s adopted son, who first had the idea for the sanctuary, which is why it ended up being called Noah’s Ark, and it was he who bought the estate, and who oversaw the creation of the various components—the veterinary center, the grooming center, the hotel, which is the place where the animals stay while being treated, the re-homing center, and the numerous offices that keep the whole foundation running.

But all his cousins—or step-cousins, whatever you want to call them, because they’re not actually related—have played a huge part in its creation. Hal’s a vet, and he heads the Animal Welfare Team that goes into the community to investigate reports of animal abuse. I work closely with him, both in the surgery and out on the road. I can’t imagine doing anything else now.

Most of the King family work at the sanctuary, but there are also lots of other staff, people I’ve known for a long time. We’re like one big, happy family. Or we were, anyway. I’m not sure what’s going to happen now.

Rosie joined Noah’s Ark about a year ago. She’s a veterinary nurse, and sometimes she works in my surgery, and sometimes with the other vets. Hal fell for her the moment he saw her. I’m not surprised. Rosie’s stunning. She’s blonde, petite, curvy, everything I’m not, plus I overheard Hal tell Leon once when he thought I wasn’t listening that she goes like a train, which must be high on the list of Hal’s requirements for a suitable partner, I’m sure. The Dog Whisperer turned his charm on her, and she was in his bed within a fortnight.

I thought that would be it. I thought that the following week I’d be consoling her after he dumped her, the way I’ve consoled so many other women over the years. But to my surprise they stayed together, and she eventually moved in with him.

Everyone would say Rosie and I are friends, but privately, although I’d never admit it to anyone—least of all Hal—I don’t like her that much. She’s the sort of person who’s nice to your face and rude about you behind your back. To the guys especially she’s warm and funny, but once they leave the room, she can be bitchy and mean. I wouldn’t have thought Hal would like that in a woman, but then maybe he’s never seen that side of her.

About a month ago, Rosie confided to me that she thought Hal was on the verge of proposing. Amused that the playboy tomcat was finally going to settle down, I waited for the announcement, and for Rosie to come in flashing her ring around. But it never materialized. Both of them refused to talk about it, so I have no idea what happened.

Since then, Hal’s been different. He’s been quieter, less gregarious than usual. He doesn’t go out with his mates as much, and in the evenings or at weekends I’m just as likely to find him in the Ark somewhere working with the animals as I am in one of the bars in town. Rosie’s been quiet too. And now, all of a sudden, he’s dropped the bombshell that they’ve broken up.

A deep sense of sadness settles over me. I love Hal like a brother, and I want him to be happy. He needs a good woman, someone who’s kind and gentle—because he can’t abide cruelty to people or animals—someone who can match his obviously high sex drive but also his intellect. Someone who’ll be able to challenge him but also walk by his side. He deserves it. He’s honest, loyal, funny—when he’s not being an ass—and he has the biggest heart of anyone I know. And now it’s broken, and it makes me want to cry.

Listlessly, I get out of the van and walk across the square. I should call in at the surgery and see how he’s doing with the dog. But even as I approach the door, I glance across at the daycare center and see Rosie standing there, leaning against the door, watching me.

“Hey.” I turn and walk across to her. She’s pale as milk and looks completely miserable. Behind her, the dogs in the yard yap and bark at us, wanting to play, but Rosie ignores them.

“Are you okay?” I stop before her.

She gestured to the van with her head. “I saw you go out with Hal. Did he… tell you about us?”

“He said you’ve broken up. When did that happen?”

“On Friday. He stayed at Leon’s over the weekend.” She bites her lip. “Did he tell you why we broke up?”

“He didn’t tell me anything, Rosie, you know what he’s like. What’s going on?”

A tear runs down her cheek. Her arms are folded, but she releases one for a moment to wipe the tear away. “You’ve got to talk to him,” she whispers. “You’ve got to convince him to have me back.”

I frown, studying her. Her words imply it wasn’t a joint decision to part. Why would Hal dump her? “What happened?” I ask her.

But she’s obviously too emotional to talk about it. “Please,” she whispers, more tears joining the first. “You know him better than anyone else. Just talk to him. Tell him I love him. I can’t bear not being with him.” Her face crumples.

I go to put my arms around her, but she turns and runs off, around the building.

I blow out a breath. I can’t deal with all this emotion and drama. I don’t want it. I walk across the square to the surgery, thinking how much I like my life. I know it was hair-raising out at the farm, but generally the Ark is calm and quiet, a place of refuge. I’ve thought before how sometimes it feels as if it’s a sanctuary for people too—if any of us are upset or worried, we always come here and find comfort with the animals, who don’t care about what we look like or what a failure we think we are.

I approach the surgery and feel a wave of quiet pleasure. I love this place, and I spend much more time here than I do at home. The buildings are long, low, and white, and the surgery itself is all cream tiles, white walls, and bright paintings of animals done by Noah himself. If you look out of the windows, you can see right across the Bay of Islands. I’ve watched storms roll in and whip the waves to peaks like mountains, and I’ve watched a thousand sunsets and seen them turn the ocean to every color of the rainbow. I look forward to going to work every day.

This afternoon, though, I walk in tiredly. For once, the waiting room is empty—we’re a general veterinary center too, but we close from twelve until two p.m. to make sure we have time to deal with the rescue animals. I peer into Hal’s room, find it empty, and walk across to where I can hear voices. He’s taken the dog into Stefan’s room, and two of the nurses are in there too, dealing with the new arrival.

Stefan is a friend Hal has known since he was born. The two of them decided as children they wanted to be vets, and he graduated from veterinary college the same year as us. Hal talked him into joining us at the Ark, and Stefan is now in charge of the veterinary center. His grandfather was Scandinavian, and although he’s not blond I can totally imagine him with his hair braided and tattoos all over his head like Ragnar Lothbrok from the TV series.

“…then take her to Jules to get cleaned up,” Hal is saying. “Tell her to crop her short, get rid of those knots, so we can deal with those sores.”

“Sure.” Stefan’s already checking out the dog, who’s lying there like a sweetheart, letting him lift her paws and look at her teeth without moving a muscle.

Hal bends and strokes her ear while he whispers something into it before he leaves her. She watches him with the forlorn look I’ve seen on plenty of women as he walks away. Yet another female who’s fallen under his spell.

Surprised he’s not dealing with her himself, I watch him walk toward me. “Lunch,” he says firmly, taking my arm and propelling me out of the door.

“I’m not hungry,” I protest, which is true; the drama has shoved all thought of food from my mind. But he ignores me, takes my hand, and pretty much drags me out of the surgery and across the square to the canteen.

It’s little more than a small break room, but we have a company come in to heat up pies, make sandwiches, and pour lattes for the staff, and usually there’s someone in here taking five minutes for lunch. Today, though, maybe because it’s nearly two o’clock, it’s empty, and Hal takes one veggie pie and one steak one out of the cabinet, adds a couple of boxes of sandwiches and two apples, orders two lattes from the woman at the counter, and takes the food over to a table by the window.

“Sit,” he says, pointing to the chair opposite his as he sits. I do so, obedient as one of his dogs. He opens the pie packet and passes it to me. “For God’s sake, eat something. You look like you’re about to fall over.”

I give in and take a bite of the pie. It’s hot, the flaky pastry leaving buttery crumbs on my lips, and I realize as soon as I swallow the first mouthful that I’m starving, and I eat the rest of it in seconds, while he watches me with quiet amusement.

“Better?” he asks as the girl brings us over our coffees.

“Thanks,” I tell her. “And yes. I think all the drama’s used up all my energy. You know, with you knocking out the guy with the gun and everything.”

He gives me his first genuine grin of the day. “That impressed you, didn’t it?”

I shrug, but it did. I’ve watched him play rugby a hundred times and so I’d expected him to go for the guy when I distracted him, but I’ve never seen Hal hit anyone before. If I’m honest, it was kinda sexy. Am I really that prehistoric that I get turned on by a show of brute strength? I open the box and take out the salad sandwich. There’s something about Hal that brings out the base passions in women. I’ve seen it all too often over the years. I’m a tad surprised it has the same effect on me, though. I thought I’d trained myself to be immune to Hal’s charms long ago.

I push the thought away. He must know I’m going to want to ask him about Rosie. If he didn’t want to talk about it, he wouldn’t have come to lunch with me.

He takes a huge bite out of his steak pie and chews. Despite his love of animals, I’ve never been able to convince him that mushrooms taste better than meat. There are flakes of pastry on his lips and, true guy style, he wipes them away with the back of his hand.

Everything about this guy is one hundred percent masculine. It strikes me, watching him sitting there in the sun, seeing how his shirt is stretched over his shoulders and biceps, just how big he is. Not just tall, but big, in breadth and depth. His dad, Brock, is pretty big too, so I guess he gets it from him, plus Hal’s played rugby all his life. There was talk of him moving to Auckland to one of the big rugby-focused schools when he was a teen, with the glittering promise of an All Blacks career, but Hal has only ever wanted to be a vet. He still plays for the local team, though, along with Albie, Leon, and some of the other guys at the sanctuary, so he’s pretty fit.

Briefly, I find myself wondering whether he’s big all over. I’m not comfortable thinking about Hal and sex in the same sentence, though, and I tug my thoughts away from it as if I’m trying to bring an untrained dog to heel, and concentrate on eating my sandwich as I think what to say to him about Rosie.