‘So, what…?’

Jessie lifted her tray of syringes and dressings from the top of the bag and found what she was looking for. A leather muzzle. Normally she could manage without-if she could reach the dog from behind-but Harry was wedged firmly into his hiding place and could only be faced head-on. To put her hands into his refuge was to risk losing a finger.

‘OK.’ She looked back at the collie. The big dog hadn’t moved. The teeth were still drawn back in a grimace half of pain, half of menace.

‘No sudden movements,’ she said shortly.

Niall nodded. He didn’t move.

‘OK, Harry,’ Jess said gently, turning her full attention on the dog. ‘Let’s help you. Come on, boy. We’re here to help.’

She talked for five minutes, taking all the time in the world. The dog had hurt himself by his lunge forward and Jess was prepared to wait for the agony to settle. She needed the terror to recede from those huge, pain-filled eyes.

She knew this dog. Frank Reid was a friend and Jess saw Harry often when she dropped in to Frank’s farm. She’d removed a burr from his ear last summer and he’d let her help as soon as she had his trust.

This time he was more desperately hurt. It would take time-but she could afford to take it.

‘Come on, Harry,’ she said gently. ‘We’re here to help. You can trust us.’

Inch by inch she edged forward, her eyes never leaving the dog’s for a moment. Beside her, Niall Mountmarche watched and listened-but didn’t move either. He sensed that he could destroy all her efforts with a movement. At least the man had the rudiments of common sense.

Jessie held the muzzle forward, letting the dog see it. He hadn’t seen such a thing before-so he didn’t know it wasn’t to be trusted. Jess let it lie like a handkerchief in her hand, holding it forward.

‘Hey, Harry…’

An inch more…An inch more…

The dog’s lips moved. His body shuddered and he lunged forward, desperately defending…