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
