Читать книгу Her Valentine Sheriff - Deb Kastner - Страница 11

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.