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
