Free Follow Me Home by Cathy Woodman Page A

you, just as close as you can bear.’
    â€˜Are you planning to desensitise me? I’m not sure how that works. You’re a shepherd, not a psychiatrist.’
    â€˜I know, but I was just thinking it might help, and just maybe we could go for a walk on the beach together before I move on to my next job, wherever that will be.’
    I gaze at him. His expression is serious, and I think he’s trying to be helpful, not angling for a date, because if it was a date, why not go somewhere dog-free – to the pub or to see a film?
    â€˜I don’t feel as if I’m missing out, you know,’ I say, trying to put him off in his quest to prove to me that a dog can really be both man and woman’s best friend, but then as he shrugs his shoulders, I change mymind. If he’s right and Mick can help me overcome my wariness of dogs, it would be worth having a go. I’d love to be able to walk down the road without crossing over to the other side to avoid Mrs Dyer or Wendy, the dog-fosterer, or Aurora from the boutique, and their dogs. I’d like to be able to spend time on the Green, not necessarily walking, but sitting in the sunshine watching the world go by, or reading a book, without worrying that a dog will approach.
    â€˜Oh go on then, I’ll do it. Let’s see what happens. Go and get him and I’ll see how I feel.’
    â€˜Are you sure?’
    â€˜I’m sure.’
    â€˜All right, but don’t scream or Mick will be more scared of you than you are of him.’ Lewis grins. ‘I’m joking, Zara. I’ll bring him on a lead and stand in the doorway over there. I promise I won’t go any further than you want me to . . .’
    Is he talking about the dog, or do his words have an entirely different meaning? Or am I attaching too much significance to everything he says because on some level I want him to find me irresistible?
    â€˜You wait there. I’ll go and get him.’ Lewis disappears before I have a chance to change my mind.
    I move to the corner of the pen nearest the door, figuring that I’ll have at least one hurdle and a bale of straw as a barrier between me and the dog. A small pulse of apprehension begins to throb at my temple. What am I doing? Why have I agreed to put myself through this? I wipe my palms on Emily’s coat as I listen for Lewis’s footsteps. All too soon he’s back withthe black and white collie with the brown eyes, which is now on a rope lead. He stops in the doorway to the barn, at which some of the sheep look up and start off on another round of bleating and shifting around in the pens.
    â€˜Mick, sit,’ Lewis says. The dog obeys, his gaze fixed on his master’s face. ‘How are you feeling, Zara?’
    â€˜Okay,’ I say hesitantly. The dog yawns, revealing his tongue and teeth. ‘That’s close enough.’ The dog stands up. I take a step back.
    â€˜He can’t do anything. I’ve got him.’ Lewis shows me the end of the rope in his hand to prove it. ‘His overwhelming instinct is to round up sheep, but I can stop him in his tracks with a single whistle. Trust me.’
    â€˜Believe me, I’m trying to.’
    â€˜He’d lick you to death.’ Lewis bends down and ruffles the dog’s hair. ‘Maybe that wasn’t the best way to put it.’ When he straightens, he moves a little closer with the dog at his side. ‘How does that feel?’
    â€˜Not so bad,’ I say, forcing myself to stand my ground. Mick can’t get me. He’s the other side of the hurdle and there’s something in the way his master stands so tall and calm that inspires confidence. ‘Thanks, Lewis.’
    â€˜We haven’t finished yet.’ He chuckles as he takes another short step closer. ‘I know what you’re doing, but I’m. not going to put him away yet. Mick is the best dog in the world – apologies to Miley – and I’d