Page 16 of Sweet Dreams at the Forever Home on Muddypuddle Lane (The Forever Home on Muddypuddle Lane #2)

Biscuit was as delighted to see Elijah and Nora, as they were to see the dog.

His tail was already wagging like mad as they approached his kennel, and when Elijah opened the door, Biscuit’s back end nearly wagged itself off.

He was uttering little whimpers of delight and dancing around, and Elijah laughed at his antics.

‘I think someone is pleased to see us,’ he said. ‘Do you want to wrestle him into his harness, or shall I?’

‘Wrestle is the right word for it,’ Nora said. ‘He gets so excited it’s hard to put it on him, so you do it. I’ll stand and watch you struggle.’

As though Biscuit knew what they were saying, he immediately calmed down and only danced a little when Elijah slipped the contraption over his head and hooked his front paws through.

‘I swear he understands every word we say,’ Elijah said, clipping the lead onto it and handing it to her. ‘You can do the honours.’

It was as they were strolling away from the kennels, Nora holding the lead, the dog padding between them, it struck Elijah that they were acting like a couple taking their pooch for a walk.

He felt comfortable with her, as though her being upset just now had breached a barrier between them, and had created a kind of bond.

A silly notion really, since the barrier – Biscuit – still separated them, literally and figuratively.

How could he be friends with the woman who might take away the dog he had given his heart to?

Yet he felt closer to her now, and he wished he knew what she’d been upset about. Still was upset about, he sensed.

‘Are you okay?’ he asked, hoping she wouldn’t think he was being overly solicitous or, worse, nosey.

‘I will be.’ She sounded determined.

‘Men can be such bastards.’ It was a stab in the dark, but relationships were often the cause of tears.

Nora’s laugh was unexpected. ‘It’s not a man.’ She gave him a sly look. ‘Unless you’re referring to yourself and your unreasonable determination not to let me have Biscuit.’

‘That’s unfair,’ he said lightly. ‘Anyway, my determination isn’t unreasonable – I’ve fallen in love with him, just like you. Plus, I can give him a better home.’ He grinned, to show there was no malice behind it.

‘We’re back to that, are we? In that case, who’s going to look after him while you’re at the bakery, hmm? No one, that’s who. I’ll have him with me all the time.’

‘Not all the time, surely? What about when you want to go to the pub, or out for a meal or something?’

Was it his imagination or did her face cloud over? If it did, her expression quickly cleared as she retorted, ‘The Black Horse is a dog-friendly establishment, and if dogs aren’t welcome somewhere, then I won’t go.’

‘Damn it, I thought I had you there. Okay, I finish work at about one-thirty in the afternoon, so I can take him for humongous long walks afterwards.’

‘ Humongous? That far, eh?’

‘I’m used to running marathons – for fun,’ he added, doing a little jog on the spot to demonstrate and nearly losing his footing.

Biscuit looked up at him with a “what are you doing” expression.

The track over the mountain was uneven underfoot, rocky and gravel strewn, and Elijah recalled the many times he’d run across it without giving it a second thought – although it had always been a relief to reach the relative smoothness of Muddypuddle Lane, even if the tarmac was pitted with potholes.

‘But you don’t anymore,’ she said softly, the breeze catching her words and whisking them away.

His mood took a downturn. ‘No.’

Biscuit must have sensed it, because his tail took a downturn too, and he whined uncertainly. Elijah ruffled his ears. ‘I’m okay, boy.’

‘Are you?’ Nora was studying him.

‘I will be,’ he echoed, with a wry twist of his lips.

‘It’s a big adjustment, not running anymore.

I’ve been doing it for years, so to suddenly stop…

’ He stared into the distance, his mind not on the rolling moorland, nor the view over the valley, but on past runs where he’d felt strong and lithe, his feet eating the miles, his mind clear.

‘Have you always run marathons?’ she asked.

‘Not at first. For years I used to run just to keep fit, but then you start getting into it, you know?’

Nora snorted. ‘Not really. I refuse to even run for a bus.’

‘I bet you used to run around when you were a child. Show me a kid that doesn’t.’

‘Me. I never liked sport.’

‘Running isn’t sport. Or, it doesn’t have to be. It’s just exercise, a way to keep the body moving and to not put on weight.’

‘Never trust a skinny cook.’ Her eyes were smiling.

‘Unless they run ten miles every day, and then they’ve got a good reason to be skinny,’ he rejoined.

‘Is that why you do it?’

‘I’ve never really thought about it. The two kind of went hand in hand. I used to bake because I enjoyed it, and I ran because I enjoy that, too.’

‘It’s no consolation, I know, but at least you can still bake.’

‘Hmm…’

Her gaze turned to scrutiny. ‘Don’t you enjoy it anymore?’

She was perceptive, he realised. ‘Not really.’

‘Why not?’

Elijah shrugged. ‘Life.’

‘Hey, that’s my line.’

He decided to be honest. ‘I really don’t know how it happened, but at some point, baking became just another job. Maybe when my marriage fell apart? I’m not totally sure. But it was all I knew how to do, and I was good at it, so…’ He pulled a face.

‘You still are.’

‘Thanks.’

‘I mean it. I’m not just saying it. I used to call in everyday for something.’

‘But not anymore?’

‘No…’

‘Maybe when you’ve reached your target weight? I’m sure Biscuit would love to see you.’

Nora barked out a laugh. ‘You’re a trier, I’ll give you that.’ She became thoughtful for a moment. ‘I hope you don’t mind me asking, but when did your marriage break up?’

‘Twelve years ago. You’d think I’d be over it by now.’

Her eyebrows rose. ‘You’re not?’

He poked his tongue into the side of his cheek as he considered his reply. ‘Actually, I am. I don’t love my ex anymore, if that’s what you mean, but I don’t seem to have moved on since I moved out. Or rather, was kicked out.’

‘It wasn’t amicable?’

‘You could say that.’ Elijah tried not to think about all the shouting, the crying, the recriminations, the accusations. There had been fault on both sides, his and hers, but she’d always laid the blame squarely on his shoulders.

‘You’ve got a son, haven’t you?’

‘Yeah, Cameron. He’s twenty-two.’

‘It must have been hard on him.’ She paused next to a low, flat outcrop of rock and lowered herself onto it.

Elijah sat next to her, Biscuit between them like a chaperone, and puffed out his cheeks. ‘It was. Luckily, he follows me in that he loves his running – much to his mother’s annoyance. It’s the one thing we had in common, the one thing we could do together.’

‘I see.’ She didn’t elaborate. She didn’t need to, because he could tell by the sympathy on her face that she understood.

He hadn’t been na?ve enough to think that their running days would last forever, but he’d hoped they’d have lasted a while longer. ‘You’ve not got any kids, have you?’

‘Never met the right man to have them with, and didn’t fancy giving motherhood a go on my own. Never been married either, and although I’ve had a couple of long-term relationships, nothing lasted. I had great fun on the way though, lived my best life.’

‘You sound as though it’s all over.’

She dropped her gaze. ‘Nothing lasts forever, does it? Things change.’

He wanted to ask what, but with a note of finality she said, ‘I don’t know why I’m telling you all this,’ and he guessed the subject was closed.

‘Because you want me to feel sorry for you and withdraw my application to adopt this gorgeous chap?’ he teased, putting his arm around the dog and pulling him close.

Biscuit gave him a slobbery wet lick on the chin, his expression happy. He clearly preferred it when the humans were discussing less weighty matters.

‘Hey, you, get your hand off my dog!’ she cried, and Biscuit licked her as well, making her giggle. It was a pretty sound, and one Elijah would like to hear more often.

With her arms around the dog, she looked happy and relaxed, and he found he couldn’t take his eyes off her. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d told her he thought she was perfect. Her face glowed and her hair shone in the afternoon sun, and when her lips parted in a smile, he wanted to kiss them.

What would she taste like, he wondered? Were her lips as soft as they looked? And would she close those lovely eyes and melt into him when he held her?

‘What are you staring at?’ she demanded, jerking him out of his thoughts and as he flailed around for an explanation, she asked, ‘Have I got dog slobber on me?’ She pointed to her face.

Relieved, he said, ‘Just a smidge,’ and wiped an imaginary streak off her cheek with his thumb.

She was so close he could smell the warmth of the sun on her skin and the perfume she wore.

His thumb tingled, and he closed his fist around it and looked away, fearing she might see the flare of desire in his eyes.

Biscuit made a soft sound in the back of his throat and wagged his tail, and Elijah was glad of the distraction the dog provided.

‘It’s lovely up here, isn’t it?’ Nora said.

Had she noticed his sudden discomfort, the awkwardness that he’d felt as the unfamiliar passion stirred him.

‘It is,’ he agreed, his voice sounding strange. He swallowed and put a hand up to his eyes to shade them as he stared absently at the view. He would have preferred to look at her, but he didn’t dare.

Maybe it hadn’t been a good idea to share such intimacies with her, to tell her things he usually kept private, but it was done now and he couldn’t take them back. And he was still none the wiser about what made her eyes dim and her expression cloud, and why she’d cried on his shoulder.

Something was deeply troubling Nora and he wished he knew what it was, but he had a suspicion he’d never find out.

Maybe it was better he didn’t, because he was thinking about her far more than was good for him, when she probably didn’t think about him at all.