clearly knowing and obeying each order.
Evan’s large, strong hands moved in an assortment of gestures that were each tied to one of those verbal commands. He sometimes repositioned his large, lithe body while getting the dogs to move, too. His hand movements were gentle as, looking straight into their faces, he guided them into the positions he wanted them to achieve. Each time they obeyed a command, a touch or both, he rewarded them with praise.
His tone was encouraging, as if the dogs understood every word, and maybe they did thanks to his accompanying gestures or their limited prior training.
Evan seldom scolded them, but he did distract one or another when they didn’t obey by walking in front and grabbing the dog’s attention by movement and a strong tone of voice.
He also rewarded them now and then by extracting a toy that resembled a small fabric suitcase handle that Amber knew was called a tug from one pocket, and at other times a ball out of another pocket, each time tossing it for an obedient dog to chase and bring back.
Meanwhile, Bear followed all of Evan’s commands, as if he provided an example each time.
The pups that Amber found so adorable, so sweet—and so disobedient—now acted as if they couldn’t wait to receive and obey the next command.
After about twenty minutes, when Evan had worked with all the shepherds—plus Lola—several times, he turned and looked toward Amber and her mother, who both watched him over the fence. It was the first time he’d glanced at them since starting.
“I gather that these pups have had a small amount of training,” he said, “but they’ve a lot to learn. I’ll want to hear more about their background. I assume the intention is for one or all of them to wind up as police K-9s, so I could start their initial training for single-purpose use—just finding and attacking bad guys. But most police departments prefer dual-purpose dogs, those that can also do drug or explosive sniffing, cadaver location, search and rescue or more, and I can help prepare them for that, too, though what they’re taught will depend on their individual skills and what their ultimate handlers will want from them.”
“And you can provide all that training?” Amber asked. She was definitely impressed. None of the others she’d invited here had come even close to what Evan had already accomplished.
“Well, sure,” he said, as if that was a foregone conclusion. He briefly looked her straight in the face, as if trying to read her mind, but only for an instant before he glanced away and turned back toward the dogs.
Amber started walking away and gestured for her mother to follow. They didn’t go far before she stopped, looked at her mother and asked in a low voice, “What do you think?”
“Grab him while you can,” Sonya said equally softly, but with a large smile.
Amber nodded, then called to Evan, “We’d like to discuss a possible job offer with you.” She walked toward him and added, “Please shut the pups into their enclosure, then let’s go into the house and discuss it, okay?”
“Okay,” he agreed—and Amber knew her responding smile was even larger than her mother’s.
Unsurprisingly, after more commands, followed by petting, verbal rewards and a few more tosses of toys, Evan got the three young pups to sit and stay while he locked the chain-link fence gate behind him, as if the dogs lived to obey him. Amber could only grin about that.
But surprisingly, rather than join them directly, Evan held back as they walked toward the house. Amber turned often to look at him, admiring the wide smile on his angular face that was leveled only on the two canines still with him, Lola and Bear.
Maybe it was a good thing he was so wrapped up in communicating with the dogs...for now. Once they reached the house, only the humans would be speaking.
“I’m really surprised,” Sonya whispered from beside her. “I’d figured we’d find the right choice thanks to one of your dad’s cop contacts.”
All the others who’d come to try out for this job had either been sent by nearby police departments after Amber had contacted them, or were recommended as skilled trainers by the law-enforcement associations her father had joined because they had K-9 handler members.
But none had worked out. And this guy, from what Amber had seen online, had appeared potentially perfect.
She knew from his résumé and the references he’d provided that Evan Colluro was in his early thirties, a couple of years older than her. His credentials were impressive: seven years in the military, the last three working in a K-9 unit. He had earned several commendations and had left the military just over a year ago after an injury.
“Hey, I know you’re not an internet fan,” Amber replied softly, smiling as she looked down at her mom. “But sometimes people even meet their true loves thanks to websites. It’s worth a shot at trying to find the right employee there.”
Amber winced at her own words. She had badly misstated her thought. A shot? How stupid of her to use that term.
But, of course, she thought about gunshots constantly since the morning two months earlier when her mother had called to tell her that her dad had been killed.
She hazarded another glance at her mom, who was shorter than Amber and somewhat heavier. Her wavy auburn hair—which, unlike Amber’s, was not its natural color—blew in the breeze.
Amber had worried about her mother, too, before she’d returned home, since her dad had been killed for no apparent reason on the ranch’s grounds. She still worried about her but had seen nothing threatening since she’d gotten back. And the local cops seemed to think the killer could have been a former student, since her dad wasn’t always as nice to the people he taught as he was to the dogs, or maybe it was a robbery gone wrong.
“So how are you going to handle this offer?” Sonya asked, fortunately not latching onto how Amber had misspoken.
“We’ve discussed some terms in emails,” she told her mother, focusing again on what she needed to. “He must be okay with that part, at least, since he’s here.” But however she phrased the actual offer, she wanted to make sure the guy liked it. They needed him to accept it.
Of course, despite that impressive demonstration, no one could ever be as good at training as her father had been. No one could ever fill his shoes. He had worked alone, with no assistants, and had been wonderful at it. But Dad was gone. Dead.
Murdered.
By...who?
The K-9 Ranch was still here. And thanks to her dad’s loner attitude, there was no one skilled enough to take over where he had so abruptly, and terribly, left off.
Amber had no intention of closing the ranch and ceasing the dog training that had been so important to the whole family. Unfortunately, she’d never been taught the necessary skills. She could only hope that Evan Colluro was the right person to take over as their first new trainer, to make sure that the Chance K-9 Ranch survived. “We’ll see.”
They reached the base of the porch and she turned to face the potential employee, who was only a few steps behind them. She tried to look him in the eye, but though he seemed at first to mirror her smile, he quickly lowered his gaze back down to the dogs.
Interesting.
Was
