Retrieving a box from the overhead cupboard, Jack scattered a couple of biscuits into Bastian’s bowl then gathered a pair of mugs and the instant hot chocolate mix while he waited for the kettle to boil. His mum always made the whole thing with hot milk, but it was too late for Jack to be bothered faffing around with pots and pans. Besides, Noah wouldn’t mind—the distraction of being out of bed and away from the nightmare would be enough to set him to rights once more.
The dog scoffed his midnight snack then ambled over to the table where he placed his head on Noah’s knee. He’d become attuned to the boy’s moods, offering gentle comfort whenever he sensed Noah was upset. Casting a quick glance over his shoulder, Jack couldn’t help but smile at the image the small boy and the big dog created together.
Jack mixed their drinks, adding a generous splash of milk to increase the creaminess of the flavour and to make sure it wasn’t too hot to drink. He wanted Noah settled back in bed as soon as possible so he’d be rested enough for school in the morning. Both Jack and his mum had agreed it was important to keep Noah to his regular schedule, and with the support of his teacher, he seemed to be coping okay during the day. It was the nights which were the real problem.
Placing the mugs down on the scarred surface of the block pine table, Jack took the chair next to Noah. Bastian immediately circled around Noah’s chair to wriggle his broad body in between them. Jack shifted his seat over to make room. The dog nudged his cold nose into Jack’s hand, a silent demand for more ear scratches. Obliging his beloved pet, Jack sipped his chocolate, keeping a weather eye on Noah who seemed a lot calmer now, his attention all on his own drink.
When only the dregs remained in his cup, Jack placed his hand on the back of Noah’s head. ‘We’ve both got a busy day tomorrow, are you about ready to get some more sleep?’
Noah gave a little nod as he placed his mug carefully on the table. ‘Uncle Jack, would it be all right if I came in with you?’
Christ, the hope and worry in his big hazel eyes was enough to break a man’s heart. ‘Of course, it’s all right.’ He held up a finger and wagged it at his nephew in warning. ‘No farting though.’
His nephew giggled. ‘Bastian farts much worse than me.’ They both looked at the dog wedged between them.
‘You’re not wrong there, buddy. Remember when Nanna gave him cod liver oil to help when he got itchy skin?’ His mother had embraced her new holistic life to the full and it wasn’t only the human occupants of the farm who were subjected to her homemade remedies. Jack didn’t think he’d ever smelt anything so bad in his entire life. Luckily, after speaking to the vet, they’d switched it out for a spoonful of sunflower oil mixed in with Bastian’s food which had eased his skin problems with less dire side-effects.
Noah wrinkled his nose. ‘He was so stinky!’
Bastian turned his head from side to side, giving them both his best innocent face. Jack tugged the dog’s ear, fondly. ‘Yes, mister, we’re talking about you.’ He stood, put their mugs in the sink to soak then turned to hold out a hand to Noah. ‘Come on, then.’
The dog trailed them to the kitchen threshold, his face a picture of pure misery when Jack tried to nudge him back enough to pull the door closed. ‘Forget it, mate,’ he said.
Bastian whined, making Noah tug on Jack’s fingers. ‘Please, Uncle Jack.’
The dog thumped his tail as the weight of two pairs of hopeful eyes bored into Jack. ‘Oh, bloody hell,’ he muttered under his breath. ‘All right, but when Nanna tells me off in the morning, I’m telling her it’s totally your fault.’
His nephew skipped up the stairs, one spoiled dog in tow while Jack turned off the lights and closed the doors. By the time he’d followed up after them, they were already occupying most of his king-size bed, together with the raggedy teddy Noah had had since a baby, leaving a thin sliver down one side for Jack to crawl onto. Wrestling enough of his duvet from beneath the dog to cover his back, he then rearranged the sprawl of little boy limbs until Noah was mostly vertical on the mattress.
A foul smell hit his nose, followed by a giggle. ‘Naughty Bastian,’ Noah said, fooling no one.
‘Yeah, right. Go to sleep, stinky boy.’ Jack punched his pillow into shape, then settled his head onto it with a sigh.
Little fingers curled around his forearm. ‘Night, Uncle Jack.’
‘Night, buddy.’
Soft snores followed not long after, a counterpoint to the dog’s snuffling breaths. Careful not to move his arm and risk waking Noah, Jack rolled onto his back and willed himself to join them in sleep. It wasn’t to be. The first hint of dawn showed behind his bedroom curtains before he finally dropped off.
‘Jack?’ A soft hand on his shoulder shook him awake. ‘It’s past eight o’clock.’
Feeling as though he’d only just closed them, he forced his gritty eyes open to find himself nose-to-nose with Noah’s teddy bear. He flinched back at the unexpected sight. ‘Huh? What?’
His mum, Sally, crossed the room to open the curtains, causing him to fling an arm across his face to shield himself from the already bright sunlight. ‘Have a heart, Mum!’ Two seconds later he was sitting bolt upright in bed. ‘Where’s Noah?’
His mum finished opening the top window, then turned to regard him. ‘He’s downstairs finishing his breakfast. I popped in earlier, but you were dead to the world, so I thought I’d let you sleep a bit longer.’ Her nose wrinkled. ‘It smells dreadful in here.’
Adjusting his pillows so he could lean against the headboard, Jack reached for the steaming mug of black coffee on his bedside cabinet with an appreciative sigh. ‘We’re men, we smell. It’s the law.’
She laughed. ‘Apparently so.’ Her expression sobered. ‘Noah’s a bit quiet this morning, did he say anything to you?’
Jack swallowed a mouthful of the hot, bitter brew, grateful for the energising power of caffeine. ‘Only that he had that dream where he couldn’t find his dad again. He went straight off to sleep after a hot drink.’ The next slurp of coffee finally kicked his brain into full gear, and a feeling of dread stole over him. ‘What time did you say it was?’
‘Just after eight.’
He threw back the covers with his free hand, almost spilling his coffee in his haste to get out of bed. ‘Bloody hell, I need to get a move on. I’m supposed to be planting the top of the south field.’
The weather had taken a dip after the Easter holidays and had only settled down over the past couple of weeks. A decent stretch of sunny days had dried and warmed the soil sufficiently for him to be able to transfer last year’s cuttings from the greenhouse to the fields. Clearing the old plants in preparation had been miserable, muddy work so it would be nice to be out there and feel the sun on his back.
‘I’m sorry, Jack, I just thought an extra hour would do you good, especially after you’d been up with Noah.’
Though he appreciated his mum’s intentions, he wished she hadn’t let him sleep in. With Jason gone, there never seemed to be enough hours in the day to get everything done. He’d have to bite the bullet and hire some extra help soon, but he couldn’t quite make himself do it yet. They had seasonal helpers at harvest time, and he hoped that between him and his mum they could make it through until then.
Taking the step to replace Jason would be a final acceptance of everything they’d lost, and he just wasn’t ready to try and work alongside someone else. They might not have seen eye to eye on everything, but he and Jason had lived and breathed lavender since they were children and knew the inner