BooksBarbecue
Back Any Way the Wind Blows Save as PDF
Chapters (100)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. 54
  58. 55
  59. 56
  60. 57
  61. 58
  62. 59
  63. 60
  64. 61
  65. 62
  66. 63
  67. 64
  68. 65
  69. 66
  70. 67
  71. 68
  72. 69
  73. 70
  74. 71
  75. 72
  76. 73
  77. 74
  78. 75
  79. 76
  80. 77
  81. 78
  82. 79
  83. 80
  84. 81
  85. 82
  86. 83
  87. 84
  88. 85
  89. 86
  90. 87
  91. 88
  92. 89
  93. 90
  94. 91
  95. EPILOGUE
  96. AGATHA
  97. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  98. Also by Rainbow Rowell
  99. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  100. Newsletter Sign-up

“He’s older than I am, so it was his thing first. Maybe I’m the one who stole it. Maybe it was meant to be him all along.”

Baz thumps his head against my biceps. “Are we going to argue about Smith Smith-Richards every night in bed?”

I grin. Suddenly I’m smiling so big I can hardly see.

“What are you laughing at, Snow?”

I’m not laughing. I shrug. I squeeze him. He’s solid. I like it.

47

AGATHA

Niamh is with a patient when I walk in.

“Your dad’s next door.” She’s got a three-headed dog squirming on her exam table, and she’s holding her wand over its heads. “Stay!”

All three heads whimper, but the dog stays put.

“I was looking for you,” I say, “but I’ll come back.” Or maybe I won’t. This is probably a bad idea …

Niamh turns her head. “You were looking for me?”

“Yeah, but I can come back.”

She frowns at me. “Say what you need to say. Nigel doesn’t care.”

“That hellhound’s name is Nigel?”

She pets one of the heads. “You’re a good dog, aren’t you, Nigel?” Nigel jumps when he hears his name, and starts scrabbling off the exam table. Niamh tries to stop him.

I rush over to help. “Where’s his owner?”

“I asked her to step out,” Niamh says. “She was enabling him.”

I’ve got my arms around the dog’s belly. “Enabling?”

She holds her wand up again. “Nigel, stay! Please!”

The dog settles a little, but he’s still wriggling in my arms. I pat his—their?—flank. “Good boy, Nigel. That’s right.”

“He wouldn’t calm down at all with her in the room,” Niamh says.

“Can you sedate him?”

“I’d rather not for something so simple.” She holds one of the heads with both hands. “Hellhounds don’t respond predictably to meds.”

“Who keeps a hellhound as a pet?”

“You should see what people keep as pets,” she says. All of Nigel’s heads are nuzzling and nipping at her. “Nigel’s sweet. He’s just excitable. Hold him steady…”

I try.

Niamh moves quickly, taking each head in hand, flipping all six of Nigel’s ears to look inside. He doesn’t like it, but Niamh is deft, and she keeps him in hand.

“Ah, there it is,” she says, after a moment. She points her wand in an ear. “Just a tick!” The dog yelps, and Niamh strokes his face with both hands. “There you go. All gone now, Nigel. Nothing serious.” He whines, trying to lick her. His other heads are snuffling in her jacket.

“I really think he deserves three names,” I say.

“She’s absolutely right, isn’t she, Nigel?”