Her Valentine Sheriff Page 4

  “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 la
ughing 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.