Her Valentine Sheriff
Deb Kastner
CUPID TO THE RESCUERugged and tough deputy sheriff Eli Bishop isn’t scared of anything. Except dogs. When he’s assigned a K-9 partner, he thinks things can’t get any worse. Then he learns who’ll be training him. Local vet Mary Travis is sweet as sugar…but she’s also Eli’s ex-fiancé’s sister. Revealing his humiliating phobia to her is not an option. Neither is developing feelings for Mary—who’s built her career around the dogs Eli fears. When a terrible storm hits their town, Mary and Eli must find the courage to work together and save lives—and fall in love.SERENDIPITY SWEETHEARTS: Three small-town matchmakers finding Texas-sized love
Cupid To The Rescue
Rugged and tough deputy sheriff Eli Bishop isn’t scared of anything. Except dogs. When he’s assigned a K-9 partner, he thinks things can’t get any worse. Then he learns who’ll be training him. Local vet Mary Travis is sweet as sugar…but she’s also Eli’s ex-fiancée’s sister. Revealing his humiliating phobia to her is not an option. Neither is developing feelings for Mary—who’s built her career around the dogs Eli fears. When a terrible storm hits their town, Mary and Eli must find the courage to work together and save lives—and fall in love.
Serendipity Sweethearts: Three small-town matchmakers finding Texas-size love
Eli swallowed hard as Mary called for the K-9 to come forward.
“Bullet, volg.”
Bullet obeyed, coming to heel next to Mary’s left side. She scratched him under the chin. “Who’s my good boy?”
That was apparently code for at ease, for the dog bounded forward, barking playfully. After a moment, he approached Eli. Eli stood perfectly still, waiting for the dog to—
What? Chomp his leg off? Go for his throat? He had to get over his nerves.
Like yesterday.
“Can I touch him?” Eli asked tentatively.
“Absolutely. He’s yours, you know.”
Eli reached forward, then paused. “Wait. What do you mean, he’s mine?” Mental alarms pealed in his ears. “He belongs to the police department, right?”
“The department paid for him, yes.”
“Good, then.” For a moment he’d had the unnerving picture of having to take the dog home with him. “So now what?”
“Now we train.”
“Train? I thought the dog already was trained.”
“Oh, Bullet’s trained,” Mary replied, her chuckle softened by the kindness in her gaze. “I was talking about you.”
DEB KASTNER
lives and writes in colorful Colorado with the Front Range of the Rocky Mountains for inspiration. She loves writing for Love Inspired Books, where she can write about her two favorite things—faith and love. Her characters range from upbeat and humorous to (her favorite) dark and broody heroes. Her plots fall anywhere in between, from a playful romp to the deeply emotional. Deb’s books have been twice nominated for the RT Reviewers’ Choice Award for Best Book of the Year for Love Inspired. Deb and her husband share their home with their two youngest daughters. Deb is thrilled about the newest member of the family—her first granddaughter, Isabella. What fun to be a granny! Deb loves to hear from her readers. You can contact her by email at debwrtr@aol.com, or on her MySpace or Facebook pages.
Her Valentine Sheriff
Deb Kastner
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil,
to give you a future and a hope.
—Jeremiah 29:11
To those who are lost, that God may find you, and that you may find Him. And to those whose path
is shadowed, that He might give you light.
Contents
Chapter One (#u519d613e-b47e-5068-bd59-e480c23d01b8)
Chapter Two (#ud869aa3b-878a-58d8-8c9c-8ce2ced82bb8)
Chapter Three (#u13d8cf1a-2c40-595a-ad15-25124ae2c662)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)
Questions for Discussion (#litres_trial_promo)
Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One
Serendipity, Texas, had gone to the dogs.
Literally.
Eli Bishop couldn’t help but find some dark twist of humor in that irony—for him, anyway.
Despite the uneasiness skittering up his spine, he stood ramrod-straight with his shoulders set and his chin up, the last man of five comprising the straight line of the small-town police force. Anxiety clouded his chest as Captain Ian James elaborated on his new plan for a Serendipity police dog.
“Due to the recent influx of over-the-border drug trafficking, we’ve decided to incorporate a K-9 unit into the Serendipity Police Department,” the captain announced, his hands clasped behind him and a stern set to his dark blond brow. He paced back and forth in front of the small squad of cops assembled before him, making eye contact with each one down the line.
“It is imperative that we stop these crimes before they become a threat to the peace and security of our town, and the best way to do that is to acquire a fully trained K-9 unit. I’m pleased to announce that, as of January 1, we’ve been funded for one of our own. We’ll be using it both in police work and, as the need arises, in search and rescue to deal with increasing difficulties in weather situations through our county. I have been working in tandem with a national agency to select the best possible candidate among our officers to work with the K-9 in this program.”
The hair on the back of Eli’s neck stood at full alert as the captain stopped before him. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
This was irrational.
Unreasonable.
He was making a big deal out of nothing. He was stronger than the fear of dogs he’d carried with him since childhood. He was. But that didn’t stop his shoulders from rippling with tension as he pulled in a long, calming breath through his nostrils and fisted his clammy palms tightly against his sides.
He couldn’t let a stupid phobia wreck an opportunity for promotion. He had always been competitive and ambitious, whether it was playing football in high school or being first in his class at the police academy. With his personal life recently taking a serious nosedive, he was at the point where there was nothing he wanted quite so much as the opportunity to prove his mettle to the department. His career was all he had left, and he was game for almost anything, except—
Please, Lord. Not this.
Eli forced himself to remain motionless, his gaze steady but empty. Over the years he’d perfected the art of not showing what he was thinking. It had held him in good stead, until now. He wasn’t sure he could mask these emotions.
“Bishop, you’ll be pleased to hear that the honor is yours.”
Eli tried to steady his breathing, but his throat closed around the air.
Pleased? This wasn’t an honor. It was a horror. His own personal nightmare. He clenched his jaw in a vain attempt to control the tremor that ran through him.
He could handle bad guys. Knives. Guns. Whatever else was thrown at him, no matter how frightening. Even a broken engagement, as awful as that had been.
But dogs? That was another thing entirely.
Eli cleared his throat. “Sir, may I respectfully suggest—”
Captain James abruptly sliced the air with a clipped movement of his hand and shut Eli down midsentence.
“Perhaps I haven’t made myself clear.”
The captain’s voice was in command mode, and Eli knew he’d already lost the battle. Probably even the war.
“This is a direct order. I have taken the liberty of vetting you for this training through the national organization I mentioned. Everything has been approved and arranged. Mary Travis is expecting you at her house at promptly fourteen hundred hours today to start working with your new partner. She’s training the K-9 herself, and she’s graciously agreed to help you adjust to your new role as handler.”
Eli stifled a groan as the bad news kept piling on. He knew it would take more than a little adjusting for him to be able to work with a dog, especially an aggressive one. A K-9 would no doubt fall into that category. He definitely needed to bring his A game, if he wasn’t going to come out looking like an idiot.
What was worse—far worse—was that Mary Travis probably already thought he was a moron with a capital M. After all, it was her sister, Natalie, who’d left Eli high and dry one week before their wedding. No explanation. No hint of what was to come, or that anything had even been wrong with their relationship.
Clearly something had been. He still didn’t know what.
Mary probably knew more than he did—which was exactly why he didn’t want to work with her.
He nearly choked on his own breath as tidal waves of humiliation washed over him. He would rather have been paired up with practically anyone else in town—anyone who hadn’t had a front-row seat to the way Natalie had ditched and disgraced him. He was certain his ego would never be able to withstand the hit were Mary to discover he couldn’t even handle himself around a dog.
“Sir, Mary’s work as a large-animal vet has her in high demand,” he pointed out. “I’m sure she’s already overbooked as it is. Are you certain she is going to have time to—?”
“Ms. Travis,” the captain barked, cutting Eli off midsentence, “is already on board for this project. Her assistant is taking over her veterinary practice, so she can focus on her training kennel full-time. She has certification in search and rescue, and is branching out to include training small-town police K-9 units. Her expertise in this project will be invaluable, and you will follow her instructions. Do we understand each other?”
Captain James stopped and faced Eli, nose to nose, with their gazes locked in unspoken combat. The sharp smell of wintergreen gum tickled Eli’s nostrils. He bit the inside of his bottom lip, knowing that sneezing would definitely not be the response the captain was looking for. There was nothing to say that would change the decision, so despite the fact that his pulse was working overtime and his mind was screaming to the contrary, Eli remained silent.
The captain jerked his chin affirmatively and flashed Eli a satisfied smile. “Bishop, we’ll talk promotion and benefits later. Company dismissed for lunch.” Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked away.
The squad visibly relaxed, all except for Eli, who remained stiff at attention for several more seconds. He couldn’t seem to break the hold the captain’s words had on him. Red-hot electricity bolted down his spine, setting every nerve ending aflame. Adrenaline roared through him, and his fight-or-flight instinct burned in his veins the same way it did when he was in pursuit of a suspect.
Only this was worse, because he wanted to flee.
He had to cool off and get his head on straight, if he was going to face the afternoon class with any form of dignity intact. Thankfully, after lunch and some paperwork, he had time for a quick ride on his motorcycle. His bike was his refuge—especially with the mild January wind in his hair and the freedom of the road with no one else around for miles. He did his best thinking and praying on the open stretches of land around the small town he called home.
Soon he was heading southbound on the road out of Serendipity, the reassuring purr of the motorcycle engine underneath him. He had a little less than an hour to wrap his mind around his new responsibilities before he had to present himself at Mary Travis’s place, hopefully with a clear head and the fortitude he’d need to complete the task at hand. He revved the engine and sped down the highway, keenly aware that he was exceeding the posted limit. He was a cop, and he should know better, but there wasn’t a car on the road for miles. It was a token protest against circumstances entirely beyond his control.
After about twenty minutes, Eli turned his bike back toward Serendipity, slowing his speed to match his own reticence, even as he reminded himself that there was no sense putting off the inevitable. Surely God had His reasons for this trial. It came with a promotion, for one thing. And maybe, just maybe, it would take the heat off of Eli’s personal life.
A tough guy with a dangerous dog. Who could beat that?
Maybe he’d no longer be known as the sap who’d been ditched almost at the altar. There had to be an upside, right?
He just hoped Mary Travis wouldn’t be able to see through the thin veneer of courage he’d worked up during his ride.
He pulled his bike in front of Mary’s light blue ranch-style house and removed his helmet, sweeping the sunglasses from his eyes. Mary’s home stood on a fairly sizable plot of land—not enough for ranching or farming, but plenty of room for her kennels. He could already hear high, piercing yips and low, throaty barks coming from the vicinity of her front door, and his stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch that he sternly refused to call fear.
He paused for a moment outside the front door, swallowing hard and mindfully unclenching his fists. He’d forgotten to ask Captain James how long he anticipated this procedure would take.
One week, maybe?
Two?
Hopefully he could get in and get out without much time and hassle. Accomplish his objective and move on.
Eli combed his fingers through his hair, slid his palm across his scratchy jaw and straightened his shoulders, unwilling to yield to the tightness in his chest. He knocked firmly, knowing he’d have to be heard over the raucous cacophony of wildly barking dogs.
Mary surprised him by answering right away, almost as if she’d been waiting for him. Maybe she had been, since they had an appointment scheduled. Hopefully she hadn’t been watching him struggle from behind her front curtain. He shifted uncomfortably.
“Eli,” she greeted with a warm but somewhat reserved smile. She straightened her black-rimmed glasses, calling attention to pretty green eyes. “Please come in.”
Easier said than done, since the door was crowded with canines of various shapes, colors and sizes. He eyed the doorway but didn’t move.
Mary merely laughed. “Or maybe I should have said, ‘Welcome to the chaos.’”
* * *
Mary could see that Eli looked uncomfortable, probably something to do with the chaos she’d just mentioned. She pulled on the collar of her large black Lab, Sebastian, urging him out of the way. She used the other hand to point behind her, commanding the rest of the dogs surrounding her to move backward. In hindsight, she realized she should have penned them all in the den before Eli had arrived, but she hadn’t thought about it. She was used to dogs milling around her and getting under her feet, but most people—Eli included, if the expression on his face was anything to go by—weren’t accustomed to it.
He looked miserable, as if he would rather be anywhere but here—not that she could blame him for feeling that way. And that, she was certain, had nothing whatsoever to do with the dogs. Her chest tightened, and raw emotion scratched at her throat.
Great. So now she was about ready to burst into tears.
Real professional, Mary. Get a grip on it.
She straightened her glasses again and with them her spine, determined to do whatever must be done.
If it was anyone except Eli—but it was Eli. And this was a part of the process neither one of them could avoid. Since the moment she’d heard that Captain James had selected Eli for the K-9 unit, she’d been concerned about their working together. Eli had every reason for wanting to avoid being around her, and there was nothing she could do to make it easier for him.
Or her, for that matter.
And Eli was still standing on her front porch.
“Get back, Horace,” she ordered, gently pushing a fluffy husky’s hindquarters for emphasis. “Francis—off you go,” she said to a Boston terrier with three legs. “And you, Sebastian,” she said to the Labrador retriever whose collar she still held. “Back to the den. Shoo!”
Eli’s striking blue eyes widened and his jaw went slack when the animals obeyed.
“What?” she asked hesitantly.
“I can’t believe all those dogs did what you wanted them to do. It was almost as if they understood what you were saying to them.”
Astonished and not a little bit perplexed, Mary shook her head. Hadn’t Eli ever been around a dog before? Serendipity was a ranching community. Nearly every family in town had at least one working dog, a collie or a shepherd to help herd their stock. But Eli’s amazement appeared to be genuine.
“Of course they did what they were told. They recognize the tone of my voice, if not the words. Dogs are smart animals. Even if they didn’t exactly comprehend what I was telling them, they understand my hand gestures and body language. Weren’t you around any dogs growing up?”
He stiffened and shifted his gaze away from her. “Nope.”
She waited for him to elaborate. He didn’t.
“Cat person?”
“Not so much.”
“I see.” She didn’t. But what was she supposed to say? “Then this will be a new experience for you.”
“Yep.”
Enough with the clipped answers, already. She was sufficiently nervous to begin with, even without having to carry both ends of the conversation. Was this what it would be like to work with him over the next few weeks? Curt, almost brusque responses to every question she had for him?
His attitude confused her. She knew Eli to be friendly and kind, and right now he wasn’t either. She took a deep breath and fervently prayed for guidance. And patience. It was apparent she was going to need healthy doses of both to get through the rest of this day. She stepped sideways, holding the screen door for Eli so he could maneuver around her and into the house.
He dragged his fingers through his thick black hair and eyed the doorway but didn’t move to enter.
“Let’s try this again, shall we?” she prompted. “Please, come in.”
Eli stepped gingerly into the house and halted suddenly, raising his arms to shoulder level as a tan-colored whirlwind jumped out from behind the door, yipping up a storm, turning in tight circles and sniffing at Eli’s ankles. The little apple-headed Chihuahua couldn’t have been more than seven or eight pounds, but he was full of spit and vinegar, and she supposed he could appear a little startling to guests.
Once again Mary chided herself for not locking up the dogs before Eli arrived. His disdain for, or at the very least discomfort with, this whole situation was evident in every step he took and his closed expression. She watched helplessly as Eli braced himself, his shoulders squaring as he pressed his lips into a straight, firm line.
Mary reacted instinctively against the wave of anxiety and embarrassment that washed over her, hastily scooping the dog into her arm. She was angry at Natalie all over again for putting her in this position. Here within her own home, Mary stood, awkward and uncomfortable, when she should be completely in her element. Here with the dogs she fostered and trained, and her newly created Rapport Kennel. Here with Eli, a man she’d known since her youth and greatly admired.
No, it was not fair, and it was not right.
But thanks to Natalie, the situation was at best uncomfortable and at worst impossible. Not knowing what else to do, she held up the Chihuahua for Eli’s inspection. “Behave yourself, young man.”
Eli lifted a questioning brow.
Mary offered a confused smile and then burst into gentle laughter. “I was speaking to the Chihuahua,” she clarified. “This little guy is Goliath. His bark is worse than his bite. It might sound like he’s growling, but in truth he’s just talking to you.”
“Good to know. Snarls aren’t a warning—they’re a welcome.” He tentatively reached a hand forward so Goliath could sniff his fingers. “On someone’s planet, anyway,” he rumbled under his breath. Mary thought he was speaking more to himself than to her, but she answered him anyway, choosing to make light of the comment, and not take it as an insult to her and her profession.
“Yep, that’s my planet, all right.” Mary was aiming toward cheerful, although she was fairly certain she’d missed the mark by a wide distance. “My world, filled with dogs of every size, shape and form.”
The left side of Eli’s jaw twitched. “Sounds like paradise.”
Sarcastic much? He was about as enthusiastic about this new program as a chicken with his head on the chopping block, which left Mary to wonder, not for the first time, why he’d been chosen for the K-9 unit. Everyone in town, including Captain James, knew Eli had been jilted by Natalie. Surely it had occurred to him that the situation might lead to difficulties with the training. It had certainly occurred to her; though at the moment, she didn’t have a clue what to do to make this an easier transition for Eli. Surely he had to realize that she couldn’t help what her sister had done.
Maybe there wasn’t anything she could do, except plow forward, right through the middle of Eli’s morose attitude. She lifted Goliath to eye level and turned the dog so she was addressing his snout. “He’s only six months old, so he’s still learning his manners. Goliath, that is not how we treat guests in our home.”
The Chihuahua yipped once and licked Mary’s thumb.
Eli cleared his throat and rocked back on his heels, jamming one hand into the pocket of his blue uniform slacks.
“Captain James spoke to you?” he prodded, scratching the back of his neck with his free hand, his dark hair curling around his fingers.
“About the new K-9 unit?” Mary nodded. “Oh, yes. I have to say, Ian is quite enthusiastic about the idea.”
“Isn’t he, though,” Eli mumbled in agreement. He didn’t sound happy about the prospect.
She decided not to acknowledge his lack of enthusiasm. Surely things would get better once he got to know his new partner.
“It’s a great opportunity for you and for me, as well. I don’t know how much you’re aware of the work that I do here. I’m just now getting my training kennel off the ground. Your department is my first official K-9 program. My proving ground, so to speak.”
“Meaning I’d better be on my best behavior.”
His eyes lightened to sky-blue, and the strain around his mouth eased, lessening the gravity of his expression. When he looked like that, it was harder to ignore the fact that this was the man she’d had a secret, desperate crush on for so many years....
But that was in the past. She was years past being a silly teenager crushing on the hotshot high school football star. He was a client now—the most important client she’d ever had. She couldn’t let herself lose sight of that just because he had the bluest eyes she’d ever seen.
“You’d better believe it. Are you ready to meet your new partner?” A lot of thought had gone into the pairing of dog to man and man to dog, and she was proud of what she’d accomplished. She couldn’t wait for Eli to meet his new partner, and her eagerness bubbled over in her voice. She recognized that this was one of those defining life moments she’d look back on, either with delight or utter mortification. It was all on Eli to make that call. If he lightened up, this could be good—maybe even fun. Working with a K-9 was every bit as much about enthusiasm and reward as it was about effort and exertion. Perhaps more so.
“Sure. Whatever.” He shrugged offhandedly, as if it didn’t matter to him one way or the other whether or not he met his partner.
Mary sighed in exasperation. Even if he wasn’t thrilled about working with her, she thought he’d display a bit more interest in his new dog. His cavalier attitude was going to have to change, or they would never be able to work together. Where was the man with the happy-go-lucky smile for the world? Who had replaced him with Mr. Chip-on-His-Shoulder? Was it just because of Natalie, or was something else entirely wrong here?
Mary hadn’t a clue. And it wasn’t as if she could ask. How did one even broach a subject like this?
She paused and tilted her face up to his, her gaze lingering on him, questioning him without words. Rather than meeting her eyes, his gaze wandered to somewhere in the vicinity of her chin.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“I don’t know what you mean.” It was an adamant denial, even though she hadn’t accused him of anything. He gestured toward the den. “I’m trying to follow orders here. Please. Lead the way.” There was an element of pleading in his tone that hadn’t been there before.
He was giving off mixed signals all over the place—which he clearly wasn’t going to acknowledge. And if he wouldn’t, she couldn’t.
“So we’re good, then?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am.” His voice was low and gruff, and his gaze turned so dark that his stormy blue eyes took on an almost black hue to them.
She wasn’t going to solve any of their problems this way. Maybe the best thing to do was to bring out the big guns—
—or more specifically, the Bullet.
Chapter Two
Eli’s chest tightened almost painfully as he followed Mary through the front room and into the den. In his opinion, it was more of a kennel than a living space. There were several crates, the smaller stacked on the larger, but they were all empty. The dogs who’d greeted him at the door were lounging on fluffy pillows of various shapes, colors and sizes, all of which looked as if they had been haphazardly tossed around the room. Chew toys, ropes, tennis balls and rawhide bones littered the floor.
The whole place was messy. Lived-in. And distinctly feminine. Everything from Mary’s choice of floral wallpaper to the soft pastel curtains screamed woman, unlike his own apartment, which was meticulously clean and simply furnished with only the bare necessities in mahogany and stainless steel. Not much in the way of decor, other than a couple of family pictures on the wall. Eli didn’t require too many things to live comfortably.
Besides, he liked clean. Uncluttered. Mary apparently felt differently.
He didn’t know what he’d expected the inside of Mary’s house to look like, since he knew she shared her space with all her dogs. He supposed he hadn’t really considered it at all.
In any respect, this wasn’t it. These pups looked as if they were living the lives of royalty, not as if they were working animals. He surveyed the dogs. The Chihuahua wasn’t a K-9, formidable attitude notwithstanding, but he supposed some of the other dogs could be.
In addition to those he’d seen in the front room, there were three other large canines—one a creamy yellow color but otherwise identical to Sebastian, a gray dog with whiskers and a lot of fluff on its legs and another that looked a little like Lassie from the old television show.
He wondered which of them would be his. To his relief, they were not overly intimidating. None of them seemed as if they could be a police-trained K-9, either, not that he really knew how to assess one.
“If you’ll follow me to the back patio, I’ll introduce you to your new partner. He’s in the yard getting some exercise with some of the other pups.”
“There are more?” The question was half tongue-in-cheek jesting and half utter bemusement. “How many dogs did you say you have again?”
Mary glanced back and smiled. “Too many. I’ve lost count.”
Eli shook his head and chuckled. “I’m not surprised.”
She stopped at the sliding glass doorway and turned to face him, gesturing back toward the den. “You’ve met Goliath,” she said, pointing to the Chihuahua. “The gray one is a standard schnauzer—Periwinkle. I call her Perry.” Upon hearing her name, the schnauzer pricked her ears. “And of course I have my SAR dog, Sebastian. He’s a Labrador retriever, and he pretty much never leaves my side.” She took a breath and smiled, making a sweeping gesture that encompassed both the den and the yard. “The rest of this sorry lot I’m either fostering or training.”
“SAR?”
“Search and rescue,” she elaborated.
“I see. And my dog?”
“Bullet. He’s a Dutch shepherd. That’s him right there,” she said, aiming her finger to the far corner of the yard.
Eli’s gaze shifted to where she’d pointed, his shoulders tensing as he silently observed Bullet, a mostly black-furred dog with a bit of tan on his face and legs. He was trotting around the perimeter of the wooden security fence as if he were staking his claim on it. The dog circled a few of the obstacles in the yard—a balance beam, a chute and a couple of jumps—punctuating his sniffing with an occasional ominous bark.
Bullet was definitely more what Eli had imagined in a K-9, both in aggression and demeanor. Eli was pretty sure bad guys wouldn’t want to run into the sharp-toothed end of this dog. He wouldn’t.
He steadied his breath, trying not to think of another dog, another time, a terrifying episode that had resulted in permanent bite marks and gashes on his right forearm and shoulder. He had many scars on his body, everything from the sharp edges of an angry bull’s horn across his ribs to the ragged pucker of a knife wound on his chin. Yet comparatively, those had been easier to heal, emotionally speaking. He didn’t dwell on them.
Not like his inexplicable, irrational fear of dogs. Experts even had a scientific name for it—cynophobia—which didn’t help him a bit. He couldn’t get over it, no matter how hard he tried.
He swallowed hard, his muscles rigid as Mary called for the K-9 to come forward.
“Bullet, volg.”
Bullet obeyed the command immediately, coming to heel next to Mary’s left side and sitting on his haunches, looking up at her expectantly for his next instruction. She reached down and scratched him under the chin. “Who’s my good boy?”
That was apparently code for at ease, for the dog bounded forward, barking playfully. After a moment, he approached Eli, circling his legs and sniffing him. Eli stood perfectly still, staring down at the dog and waiting for him to—
What? Chomp his leg off? Go for his throat?
His imagination was getting the best of him, and it certainly wasn’t helping him with this situation. He had to get over his nerves.
Like yesterday.
“Can I touch him?” Eli asked tentatively.
“Absolutely. He’s yours, you know.”
Eli reached forward, allowing Bullet to sniff at his fingers before he scratched the dog behind the ears.
“Good boy,” he said to the dog, and then paused abruptly as Mary’s words penetrated his muddled brain. “Wait. What do you mean, he’s mine?” He straightened, mental alarms pealing in his ears. “He belongs to the police department, right?”
Mary’s gaze widened, and her lips pursed, accentuating her cheekbones. She must have realized he was staring at her, because she immediately dropped her gaze. Her heart-shaped face turned a pretty shade of rose.
“The department paid for him, yes,” she answered after a tentative pause.
“Good, then.” Relief washed through him. For a moment he’d had the unnerving picture of having to take the dog home to live with him. Thankfully that wasn’t the case. “So now what?”
“Now we train.” Mary straightened, resuming the professional demeanor with which she’d met him at the door. “Since it’s Friday afternoon, I suggest we break for the weekend and pick this up first thing Monday morning.”
“Train? I was given the impression that the dog already was trained,” he said, cautiously running a palm down Bullet’s neck. Eli jerked his hand back when Bullet raised his head. “Isn’t he a certified K-9?”
“Oh, Bullet’s trained,” Mary replied, her chuckle softened by the kindness mingling with the amusement in her gaze. “I was talking about you.”
* * *
Mary paced the front room, glancing out the window every few minutes, waiting for Eli to arrive for his first official training session with Bullet. It seemed as if the weekend had dragged on for a lifetime, but Monday morning had finally come, and Eli was due soon. They’d agreed on eight o’clock to start, and it was only half past seven, so it wasn’t as if he was late. She was just anxious to see him again—to get started on the real training process. It was an exciting moment for her and for her newly established Rapport Kennel.
If nerves over her business weren’t enough to make her antsy, she couldn’t seem to be able to get Eli out of her mind. It bothered her more than she cared to admit—because if she were being honest, this wasn’t all about work. It was about the man she was working with.
Eli. The man who for years had filled her dreams, as hopeless as they were. Mooning over a man who hardly knew she even walked the planet. But that was long ago, when she was an awkward teen. She’d been over him for years.
He was her past. Except now, he wasn’t.
He was very, very present.
If she could have framed the expression on his face when she’d teased him about training him and not the dog, she would have hung it over her fireplace, where she could appreciate his handsome mug every time she walked by. Of course that might be a little problematic to explain to visitors, since it was none other than her very own sister who had jilted him for another man only a week before their wedding.
Not exactly the kind of picture a woman ought to place on the mantel, even in her mind and even in jest.
She was still angry at Natalie. At the moment, they weren’t on speaking terms. It grated on her, knowing that in Natalie’s tinted reality, Eli had been nothing more than the last in a long string of broken hearts. Her sister had always been a bit of a narcissist, but her selfishness had hit an all-time high with this one. Without a word of explanation to anyone, she’d left the state with a wealthy fellow the family had never even met. It was cruel, even for her.
How could Natalie have done such a thing? And to Eli, of all men? He deserved so much better than that.
He was a decent guy through and through. He didn’t purposefully snub anyone, not even in high school, when he was the handsome and sought-after star running back on the football team. He went out of his way to make folks feel welcome—even going so far as to take pity on an awkward ninth-grade girl standing alone in a shadowed corner of her first Sweetheart Social.
He wouldn’t remember that particular incident, of course.
But she did.
She’d never forgotten any of the kind things he’d done for her over the years. To be honest, if only with herself, she’d have to admit that her feelings for Eli had shaded every romantic relationship she’d had over the years. No other man could compare to him, or at least to the man she’d built Eli up to be in her mind. It wasn’t fair to the men she’d dated, and it definitely wasn’t going to make working with the man Eli was now any easier.
He could hardly live up to perfection, and that was pretty much what she’d made him out to be.
Past tense. That part of her life was over long ago. She was over this. She was over him. She had to be. Now more than ever. How else would she be able to endure working with him every day?
And she was going to work with him. It might have come as a complete shock to her when Captain James had arranged for the two of them to work together in the new K-9 unit, but she wasn’t about to turn down the opportunity she’d been praying for. If she presented a competent K-9 unit to the Serendipity Police Department, she’d be able to use that reference to get other clients in surrounding small-town areas, places that might otherwise not be able to afford to train such units. It was her dream to run a full-time training kennel, and she found she couldn’t give it up, not even to spare Eli the discomfort of having to work with his ex-fiancée’s sister.
She sank into the plush forest-green easy chair in the corner of her living room and folded her legs, wrapping her arms around her ankles. Resting her forehead on her knees, she closed her eyes and offered her heart to God in prayer.
She didn’t realize how much time had passed, but at eight o’clock precisely, Eli knocked rhythmically on the door, shave and a haircut, two bits.
She was ready, and she hoped he was equally prepared for his first real lesson with Bullet. He’d seemed a little aloof about the dog on Friday.
She opened the door and smiled in greeting, and he simply marched past her.
“Let’s do this,” he said over his shoulder, already halfway to the den.
No Hello.
No Good morning.
No How was your weekend?
Just a curt Let’s do this, in a voice that, while not what she would term callous, was nevertheless, in Mary’s opinion, a little rough around the edges. Or maybe she was being oversensitive, and he was ready to get down to business.
“Okay, then,” she answered blithely, tamping down her own emotions. Eli was probably nervous. She decided to cut him a break—this one time. She passed him, heading through the den toward the backyard without glancing around to see if he followed.
She didn’t have to. She felt his gaze drilling into her back and knew he was scowling. What was up with that? Had he fallen off the wrong side of the bed? Eaten soggy cereal for breakfast?
As she stepped outdoors, she paused a moment, enjoying the sight of Bullet playfully barking and chasing Periwinkle and Sebastian around the yard. The dogs always made her feel better.
Eli was still staring at her, waiting for—something. For his training to begin, she supposed.
“Bullet, volg,” she called crisply, bringing the dog to heel.
“Do I have to talk like that—in another language?” Eli asked, stepping beside her and crossing his arms over the wide expanse of his chest. “What is that, anyway? German?”
He was so close, and so big, that she had the impression he was invading her personal space. She wished it didn’t rattle her, but it did.
“You’re close. It’s Dutch. And, yes, I’m going to be teaching you a few Dutch words. Bullet is trained to respond to the language, though he knows most commands in English, as well.”
“It figures,” Eli groused, his brows lowering over startlingly arctic-blue eyes. “Dutch language for a Dutch dog. Just what I need. My partner and I not only have communication problems, we don’t even use the same language.”
Mary chuckled and laid a hand on his arm. “Bullet isn’t really Dutch, and that’s not why we use the language. He was bred right here in Texas. The foreign words help us—and the dogs—stay in the zone.”
He shrugged one shoulder and quirked his lips. “I thought I was done being forced to learn new languages when I graduated from high school.”
“I promise it’s not as painful as you’re making it out to be. Only a few words and they’re fairly easy to pick up. You’ll have a good time working with Bullet. Before you know it, it’ll feel like it’s all fun and games for you—probably the best time you’ve ever had on the police force. K-9 is at least as exciting as guns and knives.”
Eli scoffed and shook his head, and Mary raised her eyebrows. Frustration burned deep lines of aggravation in her chest.
Why was the man being so contrary today? He was acting like a toddler who didn’t want to eat his vegetables. It didn’t add up for a man as normally well tempered as Eli Bishop to be so unreasonably grouchy—not without a good reason.
But what reason could he have? Something was certainly stuck up his craw. Was he that uncomfortable working with her?
She sighed inwardly. She wouldn’t blame him if he was. She wasn’t feeling entirely composed herself. But the two of them would have to find a way to overcome the awkwardness between them, or they’d never be able to see this project through to completion—and that had to happen. It had to happen.
Could she bring up the source of the uneasiness between them? Force the issue? Address the elephant in the room—the one by the name of Natalie?
She cringed. While it would probably be better to bring their issues out into the open, the truth was, she was a bona fide, full-fledged chicken—just hear her cluck! She could no more mention Eli’s relationship with Natalie than she could make the Earth orbit backward around the sun.
“We’ll start with some basic commands, and then we’ll play a few games,” she instructed, consciously shoving her own emotions to the side and hoping Eli would do the same. She would have plenty of time to mull over their issues later, when he wasn’t around to pick up on it. “Use volg to bring him to heel on your left side.”
“V-log.” Eli stumbled over the word. Bullet cocked his head, clearly interested in the strange man, but he didn’t respond to Eli’s voice as he had with Mary’s. That was to be expected. Eli had to learn to give the commands with authority, and Bullet had to learn to trust Eli. It would just take time.
Mary took two large steps backward, away from Eli, giving Bullet a subtle hint to focus on the man before him. “It’s volg. Try it again.”
“Volg,” Eli commanded in a low, firm voice, fisting his hands as he spoke. Bullet circled around him and sat perfectly at his left heel. Eli glanced up, his surprised gaze meeting Mary’s. A smile crossed his lips. “Now, that’s better.”
Her stomach fluttered and pride welled in her chest, though she wasn’t certain whether it was from Eli’s reaction or Bullet’s successful training. “Sure. See? It’s not so bad. You just have to practice the new words until they become second nature to you. Probably a lot like your job—working through the ranks, learning as you go.”
“Yeah,” he agreed soberly. “Working through the ranks.”
After applying the heel command successfully several more times, Mary taught Eli the words for stay, come, sit and down. Bullet, of course, already knew the commands. Eli fumbled through the Dutch, but he was a quick learner, and clearly determined to make it work between him and his new partner, which was exhilarating for Mary to watch.
Yet even in their best moments, there was some silent but unsettling subtext within the interchange between the dog and the man. It wasn’t anything so blatant that she could immediately pinpoint the problem and correct it, but the exchange wasn’t as flowing and straightforward as it should have been. Mary couldn’t quite put her finger on what was off about it, but something was wrong.
She took her cues from Bullet rather than Eli. The dog occasionally shied sideways, which was unlike the well-trained K-9. Bullet’s skittishness suggested his handler was agitated, and Mary watched Eli closely, looking for signs of anxiety. His expression was sober and his jaw set in determination, but she didn’t necessarily think that was cause for concern. Eli had always been a bit of a perfectionist. Clearly he wanted to be successful in his new endeavor. There was nothing wrong with focus and resolve. But sometimes when Eli would mix up his commands, the dog didn’t know how to respond and returned to Mary’s side, which only served to set Eli’s face into a deeper scowl and widen the distance between him and his new K-9 partner.
How was she going to get him to relax? He’d been so laid-back in high school. She remembered him as the guy who always had a smile on his face, and his nature had been easygoing and friendly. But that was only her teenage love-struck observation. Maybe that wasn’t his true personality at all...at least, not anymore.
People grew up. Things changed. And she couldn’t say it was the first time he hadn’t met her expectations. When he’d become engaged to Natalie, Mary had assumed he’d join in their family life and culture, but that had never happened. Serendipity was a small town with country ways, and family was a big deal here. Yet it hadn’t appeared to matter to Eli.
Maybe he wasn’t the way she had imagined at all.
Maybe he was still bitter and frustrated from being jilted only one week before the wedding.
Maybe he didn’t like this situation.
Maybe he didn’t like her.
Whatever was behind his shady mood, if he wanted this program to work, he’d have to get over it and put forth a little more proactive effort.
He’d—they’d—get a lot further if he would relax. Bullet wasn’t going to respond to inconsistent or turbulent emotions. The dog needed regular praise and enthusiastic feedback or all of the training in the world meant nothing. Bullet wouldn’t work unless he thought it was a game.
How to express that to Eli was another thing entirely. She’d trained plenty of dogs, but this was her first cop. She didn’t know how best to proceed, but she was fairly certain Eli wouldn’t respond to criticism, even if it was constructive.
She paused, examining her own thoughts and actions. Dumping all the training commands on him at once might not have been such a great idea. Just because she’d easily picked up Dutch didn’t mean Eli was going to. He’d been a jock in high school and had been good at math. She couldn’t recall his performance in English or in the Spanish class he’d taken.
What if learning a new language had proven difficult for him in the past? That would certainly explain a lot, perhaps even why he was resisting her every effort on his behalf. Her heart softened toward him. Maybe if she backed off instead of pushing him so hard, his relationship with Bullet would progress naturally. It was certainly worth a try.
“Let’s take a break from all this hard work. Why don’t you and Bullet play for a while,” she suggested.
“Play?” He turned to her and crossed his arms, another defensive gesture that set Mary’s teeth on edge. “What does that even mean? You make it sound like we’re fifth graders on a swing set.”
“Something like that.” Mary pinched back a sharp retort, refusing to be thrown by his cranky attitude and determined to work through it. She’d have to show him how much fun it could be to work with Bullet. She leaned down and scooped up a simple white bath towel that had been rolled the long way and strung together with rubber bands.
Eli arched a brow. “A towel? Really?”
Dog training wasn’t about expensive equipment and fancy gimmicks. Mary ignored him and waved the towel toward Bullet.
“Come on, boy,” she encouraged in the high voice she instinctively used with animals and children. “Come and get it.”
Eli observed her silently, his lips pressed, and his posture stiff, while she played tug-of-war with Bullet and then threw the towel across the lawn for the dog to retrieve.
“You want to give it a go?” Mary offered the towel to Eli but he didn’t grab for it. Instead, he took a step backward and jammed his hands into the front pockets of his pants. His lips curled downward. He wasn’t nearly so handsome when he frowned.
He shook his head. “If you’re only going to play with him, I think I’ll pass. It doesn’t look that complicated. You go on ahead. I’ll grab one of those lawn chairs over there and watch.”
Now it was Mary’s turn to frown. She was doing everything she could to encourage him. What was his problem?
“Eli, seriously. You are never going to bond with Bullet if you don’t personally interact with him. You guys are supposed to be a team, a unit. Dogs have different personalities just like people do. You have to learn his quirks and characteristics, and he needs to get to know your idiosyncrasies, as well.”
Eli scoffed under his breath, but loud enough for Mary to hear it. The man was thoroughly exasperating in every respect. He was certainly nothing like the guy she’d been putting on a pedestal all these years.
Maybe he never had been.
“Are you going to do this or not?” she demanded, at the end of her emotional rope and quickly losing patience.
“All right, already.” He snatched the towel from her grasp and tossed it across the yard in a long, high arc. “Nag,” he muttered crossly, under his breath.
“Somebody’s got to be,” she retorted, propping her fists against her hips. “Do you give Captain James this much grief?”
His eyes widened. “No, of course not. I—”
He paused. His frown deepened for a moment before he offered her a rueful smile. “You’re right, of course. I’m acting like a class-A jerk, aren’t I?”
His grin sent her stomach aflutter. “You said it, not me.”
“I’ll try to do better,” he promised.
“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” she assured him, surprised at the intensity of the relief that washed through her. She hadn’t realized how very much she didn’t want to have to butt heads with Eli. She could only pray things would go better from here, now that he’d checked his attitude. She’d just known he’d be the kind of man willing to own up to his mistakes, and it was heartening to be proved right.
Bullet sat on his haunches directly in front of Eli, wagging his tail. Eli tentatively reached for the towel and removed it from Bullet’s mouth. “Now, what did you say when you tossed this old rag for him?”
“Apport. It means fetch.”
“Yeah. I figured.”
“Actually here’s a little bit of useless trivia. I named my business Rapport Kennel. It’s a play on words.”
“Clever,” he said, displaying his admiration in both his voice and his gaze.
Mary couldn’t help but smile. She liked seeing the kinder side of Eli. Finally she was seeing a glimpse of the man she believed would eventually make an outstanding representative of the K-9 unit for the Serendipity police force.
“And what words do you use to play tug-of-war?”
“Grrr,” she said with a laugh. “Just wag the cloth in front of his nose. He’ll take it from there.”
For once, Eli did as he was instructed and didn’t complain about it. “All right, fellow. Show me what you’ve got.”
Bullet barked and leaped for the towel. Eli involuntarily snatched his hand back and the dog bounded off with his prize.
“Hey, now,” he protested, rushing off after the dog. “Get back here. That’s not fair. You caught me off guard.”
Mary wasn’t sure that the dog had caught him unaware. It looked more like he’d startled him—she wouldn’t go so far as to call it fear, but she noted it on her clipboard nonetheless. She was probably being too conscientious, but this was her first time training a K-9 team. It had to be perfect. Better to be safe than sorry.
Bullet advanced and retreated playfully, eventually dropping the towel by Eli’s feet so he could play, too. Eli didn’t hesitate this time. He made a low rumble from deep in his chest and shook the towel at the dog. Soon the two were in a full-out tugging match, dashing up and down the lawn as man attempted to best the beast. Bullet was clearly enjoying the interchange, but Mary watched Eli carefully, uncertain about how he felt about the exercise. His expression, coupled with the firm set of his jaw, appeared more resolute than exuberant. But at least he was trying. She had to give him that.
She sighed softly, her gaze lingering on Eli. There was much to appreciate. He was a large man and firmly muscled, but he moved and turned with a fluid grace of a bird in flight. She couldn’t help but admire the way his biceps strained against the short-sleeved material of his uniform shirt as he weaved and pulled, jumped and twisted. He was absolutely stunning to observe—from a purely objective point of view. What woman wouldn’t notice?
Reluctantly she shifted her attention from Eli in particular to the interchange between dog and man, noting on her clipboard both strengths and weaknesses in their movements as a team, points Mary would eventually need to address. For now it was enough just to watch. If she enjoyed the exchange a little too much, and if her eyes strayed a little too often to Eli, it was for her alone to know.
She inhaled deeply and strictly reprimanded herself. Keep your mind on your work, girl, or you’re headed for trouble.
Eli wasn’t here to have her gawk at him. If he should happen to glance over and catch her expression in an unguarded moment, that would be the end of their association for sure, and she would lose the best chance she had to make her goal of running a training kennel a reality. Her dreams were worth too much for her to lose on something as silly as being caught gaping at an attractive man—even Eli.
Especially Eli.
Bullet vaulted around the man, anticipating Eli’s moves with Bullet’s own clever efforts. They were testing one another, each trying to best the other, and Mary couldn’t help but smile indulgently. She could give herself a pat on the back for a job well done. They were getting to know and figuring out each other. Strengths and weaknesses, just as she’d instructed Eli to do.
The two were well matched. Mary had known they would be. Eli wasn’t aware of it, but she’d chosen this dog specifically for him. And vice versa. They’d make a good team one day, when their training was done.
“Here’s his favorite toy,” Mary called, lofting a tennis ball at Eli, who caught it with ease. “Give it a toss and check out his response time. He’s amazingly fast for his size.”
Eli drew his hand back and threw the tennis ball in a high arc, whooping when Bullet dashed off after it. “Look at that dog run. No wonder you named him Bullet.”
Pride welled up in her throat, and she smiled. “You got that, did you? Trust me, it’ll come in handy when you’re taking down a bad guy.”
“Only the bad guys, though, right?” he asked. His tone was light but his gaze not so much.
“Of course. Bullet knows which side of the fence he’s working.”
Eli made a show of wiping the sweat from his brow in relief. “You have no idea how glad I am to hear that.”
He sounded like he was teasing, but Mary sensed a serious undercurrent. “I assure you—once you’ve spent some time with Bullet, you’ll find he’s totally trustworthy. He’ll have your back better than any partner you’ve ever had.”
He raised a brow. Somehow he didn’t look convinced, even when Bullet brought the ball back to him, sitting before him and lifting his head, offering the tennis ball to him.
“What do I do now?”
“Take the ball and throw it again. And again. And again. Bullet never gets tired of playing with his ball. That’s what makes him so easy to train. He has a strong, almost obsessive drive.”
“If you say so.” He didn’t sound like he believed her, and once again, Mary came to the conclusion that he was one of those men who had to see to believe, like the apostle Thomas with the wounds of Jesus.
It took all types, she supposed, though it would be a great deal less of a hassle for her if she didn’t have to prove every little point to him. She would, though, even if Eli dragged his feet each step of the way. His reluctance made her all the more determined to find success with the K-9 team.
After several minutes of tossing the ball for Bullet, Eli pulled up to Mary’s side, his eyes bright and his chest heaving with effort.
“What’s wrong?” she queried when he hovered next to her, an expectant look in his eyes. “Has Bullet worn you out already?”
She realized as soon as the words left her lips that she’d said the wrong thing.
Again.
The brief hint of diversion and elation in his eyes disappeared as his lips curled downward and his brows lowered.
“Don’t you think we should stop goofing around and get back to work?” His voice grated on her last nerve.
She felt as if he were judging her, accusing her of wasting his time. Like he knew better than she did what they ought to be doing as part of their training. And right when she’d thought they were starting to make a little bit of progress. The man ran as hot and cold as a faucet. Any semblance of composure she’d regained watching him play with Bullet cracked like a baseball through a glass window.
She knew exactly what she was doing, and she wasn’t wasting time, despite what Eli might have to say on the matter. She forced a chuckle she didn’t feel and met his gaze in an undeniable challenge. “That was work.”
“Come again?”
“I said—” she began, but he cut her off midsentence.
“I know you’re trying to take it easy on me with all of this playing with the dog stuff. You don’t need to do that. Don’t water it down for me. I’m ready to give those Dutch commands another go.”
Water it down for him? So much for a teachable moment. At least the dog didn’t interrupt when she spoke—or question her every instruction.
“I see.” She stared at him, taking his measure. Something wasn’t adding up. She sent up a silent prayer for guidance, wishing she could put her finger on what that something was.
“What?” he asked, sounding mildly annoyed. He shifted his weight onto the balls of his feet, as if he was getting ready to pounce.
Mary noted the movement and shook her head. “I think we’ve done enough obedience training for one day. There’s a lot more for you to learn. I have something else in mind for you right now.”
Eli groaned. “Don’t tell me there’s paperwork.” He shook his head. “No, don’t answer that. Of course there’s paperwork. I’m a cop, and I’m still on the clock.”
“No paperwork. Not today, anyway.”
“Whew. Glad to hear it. Paperwork is the least favorite part of my job. I like to be up and active.” He stretched side to side as if getting ready for a run.
“Then this next activity will be perfect for you.”
“Yeah? What am I doing?”
“You, plural,” she reminded him. “You’re a unit now. I assure you there will be plenty of movement involved—for both of you. I want you to run through a confidence course.”
Chapter Three
A confidence course?
What was that supposed to mean? It felt like a personal dig, right into his rib cage. Was his lack of assurance so obvious that she felt the need to fix it? Was he wearing a flag on his back?
Great. It was only day one of training, and he was already failing miserably at his new assignment. She’d already figured him out, even if she was too kind to admit as much. How was he going to prove himself to her after this, never mind the whole department? Indignity chewed at his gut.
“What’s a confidence course?” He squared his shoulders and lowered his eyebrows, blockading his emotions behind steel doors in the furthest recesses of his heart. All he could do now was redouble his efforts to appear impervious to his circumstances and completely at ease with his dog.
“Loosen up,” she murmured, her voice rich and reassuring.
As if he could relax.
Another emotional jab, this time a direct uppercut to the jaw. She certainly had his number.
“Nothing to get stressed about. I just want you to run Bullet through some of these obstacles here.” She gestured toward the agility stations positioned across the lawn. “We won’t do all of them. Just enough for you to get your feet wet.”
“Right. Then it’s an obstacle course.” Many of the hurdles looked like the ones he’d faced when he was at the police academy. He’d excelled there, first in his class. Physically and mentally, he’d conquered the course and bested his fellow officers with ease. It had seemed so simple back then. All he had to do was let his aggressive nature take over, and he’d blown the competition away.
He wasn’t so sure he was going to do as well on this one. He could only speak for himself and not for his barking teammate. And he wasn’t the least interested in unleashing Bullet’s aggressive nature.
No, thank you.
That, he supposed, was the crux of the problem. He was used to fending for himself. Now he’d been thrown into a situation where he had to work as a team. It didn’t help that his partner was an uncompromising canine.
“Let’s not call it an obstacle course,” Mary suggested, stroking her finger down the perfect little dimple in her chin. “I don’t want you to think of the stations that way. Bullet will sense it, if you tense up, so I want you to let loose and have fun with it.”
“Have fun with it,” he repeated blandly. Yeah, like that was going to happen anytime soon.
“I prefer to think of the stations as challenges. It’s mostly a team-building exercise, if you will, as you learn to navigate the course together. You’re the unit leader, so it’s up to you to set the pace. Snap the lead on to his collar and let’s get started,” she continued, handing him a six-foot leather leash.
“Which one do you want me to do first?” He attached the lead, gaining Bullet’s immediate attention. Now would be a good time for him to prove himself. He only wished he felt more certain of his success.
“Let’s go with the low hurdle right there. Set yourself at an easy jog and—”
Eli didn’t let her finish. He bolted into motion with Bullet at his heel. When he reached the hurdle, he leaped over it with ease, expecting the dog to follow. Instead, Bullet sidestepped and ran around the jump, then turned in a circle around Eli, twisting him into a knot with the leash.
Making him look like an utter fool. Thank you, muttinski.
Thoroughly exasperated, he spun around on his heels, trying to extricate himself from the six feet of leather cord. It was all he could do to stay upright, and the last thing he needed was to face-plant himself in the dirt right in front of Mary. He imagined she was probably laughing at him already.
“You almost had it right,” she said, reaching down to untangle the leash from Eli’s ankles. She didn’t appear to have found his distress amusing. He wanted to hug her. “There was only one minor detail you might want to work on.”
“Only one?” Eli snorted. He’d already made enough mistakes to fill an entire stack of Mary’s clipboards. “And that would be?”
“Well,” Mary said, pursing her lips and then breaking into a smile. “Theoretically Bullet is the one who is supposed to navigate the hurdle. You’re there for moral support. It was a nice jump, though. I’d give you a nine out of ten for technique.”
He ought to be—expected to be—embarrassed at her teasing and laughter, but, for some unknown reason, she had put him at ease. Maybe it was the kindness in her eyes or the sweetness of her smile, but even though there was no doubt she was poking fun at him, he didn’t feel like she was mocking him. Instead, he was pleasantly surprised to realize she was having fun with him, making light and joy of what would otherwise have been painfully awkward.
After being utterly humiliated by Natalie, Eli didn’t trust women as far as he could throw them. But Mary was different. With her, what you saw was what you got. No games. It would have been enough for him to relax and feel comfortable around her—if it weren’t for the dogs.
“You want me to give it another go?” He quirked his lips upward to show he was still in the running.
She smiled back at him and nodded, waving a hand toward the hurdle.
“All right, buddy, let’s show the pretty lady how a K-9 jumps.” He jogged toward the hurdle with Bullet on his left, and then dodged to the side as they approached the station. He wasn’t giving the dog anywhere else to go but over, and he expected Bullet would have no problem complying. He was a large, energetic dog, and the jump was a small one. How hard could this be?
His plan was working well, all the way to the last moment, when Bullet pulled up and sat firmly on his haunches. Eli barely had time to react, changing direction just before the leash became taut. He didn’t want to choke the dog, but he didn’t want to land in an inglorious heap, either.
“Come on, big guy. Over the hurdle.” He yanked gently on the lead, but Bullet obstinately fought him, wagging his head back and forth, and resisting the pressure Eli put on him. Eli wanted to throw up his hands in defeat.
That wasn’t going to happen.
“You’re embarrassing me, here, dude,” he whispered to the dog. He swiped his palm across the stubble on his jaw, turned toward Mary and cleared his throat. “What am I doing wrong?”
“It’s all about enthusiasm. Bullet’s being stubborn to test you, to see how much you’re going to let him get away with.”
“So I need to be stricter with him?”
“The opposite, actually. Show him how excited you are to have him go over the hurdle, and he’ll gladly cooperate with you.”
“Excitement,” Eli repeated in a less-than-enthusiastic tone. He scratched the back of his neck. This was more complicated than he’d imagined it would be. Mary made it sound like he needed to appeal to the dog’s emotions. He couldn’t even begin to comprehend such a thing. “Like how, exactly?”
Mary stepped forward and took the lead from Eli’s slack fingers. She patiently walked the dog in a circle and straightened him out toward the jump.
“Come on, Bullet,” she said in an overly energetic, saccharine-sweet falsetto. “Let’s jump. Jump for me, Bullet. Come on. Come on, boy. You can do it.”
It seemed like an awful lot of words for a single command, but Eli had to admit it worked. Bullet bounded forward and sailed over the hurdle with a foot to spare, then eagerly sat in front of Mary, waiting for her praise, which she gave in abundance.
“Your turn,” Mary said, returning the dog to Eli. “Just remember to make it fun for him, and he’ll do whatever you want him to do. It’s not work for Bullet. It’s a game. And be sure to give him lots of praise when he gets things right.”
Eli gnawed the inside of his bottom lip thoughtfully.
“Fun. Right. All right. Bullet, jump.” He nudged on the dog’s lead and Bullet bounded forward, looking as if he were going to clear the hurdle with ease, as he’d done with Mary. At the last moment he once more turned, darting around Eli and leaving him yet again entangled in the six-foot leash.
Eli groaned. “I’m never going to get the hang of this,” he muttered under his breath. He twisted, trying to release himself from the leather and only succeeding to make things worse.
“Sure you are. Let’s get you out of these knots first, and then I want you to go stand right in front of the hurdle that’s troubling you. I think the running start is giving him too much time to consider his alternatives.”
Bullet hadn’t considered his alternatives when Mary had put him over the jump. So why was it so difficult for Eli to communicate with the K-9? It seemed to him it wasn’t the hurdle that was troubling him, it was the dog.
With Mary’s help Eli got the lead untangled from his ankles. He took a deep breath and tried again.
“Volg,” he commanded Bullet in a low, serious tone. The dog instantly responded, his attention completely on Eli as he walked toward the hurdle.
“Now put him in a sit-stay and step to the side of the jump, loosely holding the lead in your hand.”
Eli commanded the dog to sit and stay using the Dutch words he’d been taught earlier in the day. To his surprise, Bullet responded to his voice.
“Good for you!” Mary praised. “I’m impressed. You remembered all of the foreign words. It took me a week to get them right.”
Her praise was unexpectedly sincere, and Eli felt his ego crank up a notch or two. Not that she really had anything to be impressed about, but her kindness only made his resolve to prove himself quicken in his chest. He doubted she’d really had as much trouble learning the Dutch words as she was saying, but that only strengthened the impact of her words. Yet he was grateful she was giving him the opportunity to succeed.
“Remember, the more enthusiastic you are, the better Bullet will respond.”
Eli moved to the far side of the hurdle, taking the slack from the lead and clicking his tongue. “Come, Bullet. Over.”
Mary’s laughter fluttered across the air between them. “You call that enthusiasm? Where’s your animation? That sad excuse for excitement wouldn’t motivate me to jump over any hurdles.”
He wasn’t trying to get her to jump. Anyway, it was impossible for him to rustle up any kind of real excitement. He’d been dreading every moment of this day from start to finish. Of course, he’d gone out of his way to make sure she didn’t know that, so he supposed he’d better start showing some of that animation she was talking about.
“Um—good boy,” he said, his voice low and even. “Good boy, Bullet.”
Mary propped her hands on her hips. “If that is the best you can do, we are in real trouble. Try using the voice you use when you talk to babies.”
His gaze widened on her. “Babies? I don’t usually talk to babies...ever.”
“That’s right. You don’t have any nieces or nephews yet, do you?”
Eli couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought of his sister, Vee, with a baby. She and her husband, Ben, were a couple of adrenaline junkies who were married to their fire department careers and the stateside mission ministry they were both involved in. And his older brother, Cole, was still serving in the navy. “I think it’s safe to say that it is going to be a while.”
“Try it anyway,” she encouraged. “High, soft voice.”
“Good boy,” he repeated. He was aiming for a higher tone, but his voice was naturally low. Could he help it if he sang bass in the church choir?
Mary wrinkled her pert little nose at him. “Would that boring monotone motivate you?”
“I guess not.” Mary could be stricter than a drill sergeant, even if she was a lot prettier to look at. He cleared his throat and tried again.
“Good boy!” This time his voice came out high and a little bit squeaky. It was embarrassing, really. Thank goodness none of the guys were around to hear it.
Mary let out a whoop. “That’s it. Do it again.”
He led Bullet the opposite way over the hurdle. The dog easily cleared the jump and turned toward Eli, wagging his tail. “Good boy. Good boy! Who’s my good boy?”
Oh, the depths to which he had sunk.
Mary clapped in delight. “You’ve got it. I knew you had it in you.”
To bounce around like an overactive toddler, talking in falsetto? He certainly never would have guessed he had that in him anywhere. Nor, up until this moment, had he ever wanted there to be. But if he could get the dog to do what he was supposed to do and please Mary in the process, so be it.
“Let’s move on,” she suggested. “Next up is the supported balance beam.” She led him to a plank of wood that was about a foot wide and six feet long, propped up by a couple of old sawhorses that looked as if they’d seen better days.
“How do I get him up there?” Eli asked, eyeing Bullet. There were open stairs on either side of the sawhorses, but Eli wasn’t sure how Bullet would respond to climbing a rickety old set of steps.
“The same way you did with the hurdle. Guide him with the lead. Then once he’s up on the beam, you’ll want to support him until he gains confidence.”
“Support him how?”
“Put your arms around his middle. Give him enough room to move, but let him know you’re there to catch him if he falls.”
Eli swallowed the rising wave of panic that billowed into his throat. Just the idea of embracing a dog around his middle made the hair stand up on his neck. Nerves turned his stomach to mush. That Bullet had been trained by Mary only marginally lessened the dread pulsating through his veins.
He led Bullet to the stairs, half expecting the dog to balk as he had with the hurdle, but apparently Eli had established at least the semblance of authority, for Bullet climbed the stairs on the first try. Eli thought the dog looked stable enough as Bullet stepped out onto the plank. Eli kept one hand close to Bullet’s flank and urged him farther out onto the beam.
“This first time, I’d really like it if you’d keep both arms around the dog.” Mary’s voice was firm, an order and not a suggestion.
“Hasn’t Bullet done this before?”
“Yes, but not with you. If he should fall off the beam under your guidance, it will be that much harder for you to convince him of your leadership abilities, much less get him back up there again.”
“Like a kid learning how to ride a horse.”
“Yes. That’s it, exactly. You’re Bullet’s partner. You want him to trust you implicitly, as much as you trust him to have your back in a dangerous situation.”
Which would be exactly 0 percent. If only she had any inkling of how very skeptical he was of the canine species. He had to admit that Bullet seemed obedient enough, but he couldn’t help that niggling bit of doubt that it would take only one frightening split second for the dog to turn and bare those sharp teeth on him.
With an entire lifetime of emotional resistance hindering him, it took every bit of strong will and self-control for him to wrap his arms around Bullet. Mary standing there tapping her pencil against her efficient little clipboard was the only thing that kept him in the game at all. He clenched his jaw and heaved air into his chest as he guided the dog across the beam, only releasing his breath when the dog trotted amiably down the back set of steps.
“Good job,” Mary said, writing something on the graphed page on her clipboard. “You only forgot one thing.”
“What now?” Eli shook his head, his frustration mounting. She had no idea that he’d just gone against every self-protective instinct in his body to complete the mission she’d given him. “He crossed the plank and I didn’t let him fall down.”
“Praise, praise, praise,” she reminded him in the high voice she used with the dog. “Don’t ever forget to make this a happy time for the dog.”
Eli wanted to roll his eyes. Happy time for the dog. Good grief.
“You want me to do it again?”
Mary glanced at her watch. “No, I think we’re almost done for the day.”
Relief washed through him that they’d finished the torture course, until his mind zoned in on one word. “Almost?”
“There is one last activity I’d like you and Bullet to complete together. Not paperwork, I promise.” She nodded toward the house. “After you.”
He swept a hand toward the patio, wondering what kind of new torment he was in for now. “Ladies first.”
Eli followed Mary inside, more conscious of the dog trailing at his heel than he cared to admit. Mary displayed such effortless, fearless grace around her animals. What would she think of him if she discovered it had taken every last ounce of his courage to get through today’s activities? He’d rather have been on the receiving end of gunfire. But at least he’d successfully worked through his first lesson, and that was saying something.
It would get easier. Wouldn’t it?
“You mentioned one last activity?” His nerves crackled down his spine, and his fingers twitched into balled fists. Bullet had noticed, if not Mary. The dog kept nosing at his left palm.
“The same thing I imagine you do after exercising,” she offered over her shoulder. “He needs to get cleaned up.”
Eli skidded to a halt. Bullet circled him once and then sat down in front of him, peering up expectantly, waiting for a command.
Like what? Shower?
No way was he giving a seventy-five-pound bundle of fur and razor-sharp teeth a bath. He suddenly wished he was in Houston or Dallas and not in the tiny town of Serendipity. There were no groomers in town that he knew of. Otherwise he’d drop the dog off with a professional and pick him up when he was clean.
Of course he had the sneaking suspicion Mary wouldn’t let him off the hook that easily, even if the option were available. She turned to face him, her hands propped on her hips. She’d been doing that a lot today. It felt like a reprimand. Eli stiffened.
“I’m going to ask you outright. How do you feel about the dog? Do you think you are well matched as partners?” Her green-eyed gaze met his and she tilted her chin with a stubbornness that surprised him. She was challenging him. Did she suspect the truth? “Don’t you agree that Bullet will be more than sufficient for your purposes?”
“He’s okay, I guess.” Without lowering his gaze, Eli reached forward and scratched Bullet behind the ears. Never let the enemy see your fear.
Not that Mary was an enemy, though at the moment she felt mighty close to one.
“You guess? Bullet cost the department quite a tidy sum of money. He’s been specially bred, and I trained him myself. All he needs is a good handler. You’d better be certain you are going to be that man, or I may be forced to request someone else for the job.”
If he was going to back out, this was the moment. She’d left that door wide open and was practically goading him through it. Had she seen through the thin veil of his facade?
A part of him wanted to run for safety and not look back. But Eli wasn’t the kind of man to retreat from a challenge, even if this was the hardest trial he’d ever had to face. He’d experienced enough failure recently to last a lifetime. He couldn’t afford to make any more mistakes. He had something to prove to himself—and to the men he worked with.
No excuses.
Nope. Not gonna happen.
“You don’t have to do that,” he countered firmly, pressing his lips to keep the quiver out of his voice. She wasn’t the only one who could be determined. “You have my word. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
And he would. He would never have chosen this job of his own accord, but it was a promotion, not to mention the opportunity he’d been waiting for to redeem his value to himself and the world, to prove he wasn’t a loser. He wasn’t about to allow Mary to hand it off to another man.
She observed him silently for a moment before speaking. He felt like a fish in a bowl, and he struggled not to twitch.
Finally, after what felt like ages, she adjusted the rim of her glasses and nodded. “Okay. Let’s go, then. I keep the tub in the mudroom.”
Eli followed her, feeling like he should say something more to dig out of the hole he’d shoveled himself into, but what was there to say? He couldn’t tell her why he was so reluctant to work with Bullet. He had to prove he was as enthused about the program as she and Captain James believed he should be, and that he was the right man for the job.
Tough and invulnerable. That’s what he wanted them to see. That’s what he wanted to be, although he expected that would be a long time in coming. As the saying went, just fake it till you make it, right?
He followed Mary to her laundry room, which was little more than a partitioned area off the kitchen. Clothes littered a large table between the washer and dryer. Some of the garments were stacked into loose piles, but mostly it was a haphazard mix of blouses and jeans. To the right side was a freestanding rack which contained more than a dozen empty wire hangers and no clean clothes.
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