His stomach dropped into his feet. Yesterday when they’d eaten lunch together, Rowan had reinforced his previous statement ofshowing up, becausehe had. He’d been there to help at Ruff to Regal, even turning up to help with the exterior decorating of his home.
Marcus chewed his lower lip. Rowan had accompanied him to the beach last night to help Jack and him secure things for the weather warning. Had it been too much? Had he decided that was the final time he’d show up? He hoped not.
Tammy headed the group of residents who’d pledged to help out, her arms holding a large plastic box. Her red face indicated she was struggling with its weight. Marcus rushed forward, placing his clipboard on top of the box before relieving Tammy of it.
‘Good morning, Tammy, what do you have in there?’
‘Morning, Marcus. It’s the dog biscuits.’
‘Wow. Are you expecting a small army of pooches? I was thinking fifty at most—thirty five pre-registered, and fifteen walk-ups.’
‘Yeah, but they aren’t going to eat one biscuit each, and you never know, you might get double the amount of entries you are predicting.’
Marcus baulked. He hadn’t thought of that. It was a good job he hadn’t been the one in charge of making and supplying the biscuits.
He watched the residents head to their designated duties without needing direction from him, sighing with relief. So far so good. ‘This way, Tammy. I’ve got an area at the back of the big marquee for you to be based with these.’
Marcus swept his eyes over the beach before he entered the marquee. The sun was shining, the gentle lapping of waves meant the sea was calm, and everyone was where they were meant to be. All they needed now, was the dog contestants and their owners. Marcus felt his chest swell with pride.
As he left the main marquee, he almost bumped into the reverend. ‘Ah, there you are, Marcus. You’ll be pleased to know I’ve done my first blessing.’
Marcus’s brow lifted, causing a ripple of lines. ‘Really? Have the contestants started to arrive already?’
Reverend Townsend chuckled shaking his head. ‘No, it wasn’t flesh and blood I blessed, it was this site.’
Marcus’s brow smoothed, and a broad smile lit up his face. ‘Thank you, reverend. I can breathe easy now knowing the Big Man upstairs has my back.’
Reverend Townsend belly laughed, throwing his head back. ‘We all refer to Our Father as a man, buthemight well be a woman.’
‘Well whatever label we give the source up there, I’m grateful to have him orher, in my corner.’
Reverend Townsend nodded his head, and with a huge smile, turned around and headed for the tent Marcus had provided for him to do his dog blessings in.
His peripheral vision caught sight of a figure that made his pulse race. He turned to see Rowan’s large back, his hands resting on his hips, as he stood back admiring the quiet zone.
Marcus’s step had a spring in it as he walked over to him.
‘Is Atlas at your rented home?’ He had no idea why the wordrentedhad slipped into his sentence.
Rowan spun around on hearing his voice, and Marcus noticed his eyes checking him out from head to foot, instantly stirring butterflies in his chest.
He couldn’t stop his eyes doing the same thing. Rowan was wearing a tight fitting white long sleeved T-shirt, rolled up at the sleeves, the couple of buttons it had at the top, unbuttoned, letting the black hairs on his chest peek out.
Marcus swallowed hard.
‘No. I decided he should be here. It will do him good. He’s inside in the shade.’
Marcus nodded, ‘I’m glad. It wouldn’t be the same without him.’
As if he knew they were talking about him, Atlas’s head appeared, poking out from the half-opened flap of the small marquee.
To both of their amazement, Atlas pushed through the opening and walked up to Marcus, sniffing the hand down by his side.
Marcus looked across to Rowan, his eyes wide. ‘Is he—’
Rowan’s features softened. ‘Yes, he is... He’s waiting for you to pet him.’
Marcus slowly ran his hand over Atlas’s head. His fur was soft, yet oily, in need of a bath. ‘Do you think he trusts me enough to groom him now?’
