Chapter Six

After a night spent cozy in her bed, Delilah found herself humming as she headed to the barn for the day’s session. There was something about this ranch that had worked itself into her soul. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but she could definitely name this feeling—happiness.

Today she planned to start with Will Turner. Though she’d kind of led Zero to believe it would be a lot harder to train the other dogs after the sweet Elizabeth Swann, she didn’t actually think it would take long at all to get Will Turner on the right side of obedient. Once she did that, the Captains would be a snap, since they were already a two-for-one.

The German Shepherd eyed her warily as she herded him from his stall. He hadn’t liked the idea of being shut up overnight, but after she’d bribed him with treats, he hadn’t given her a lot of grief. Though part of her had wondered if he’d still be in there this morning.

“Good morning, Mr. Turner,” she murmured. “Thank you kindly for humoring me with the whole stall idea. You and I both know you could leap over the door with half an ounce of effort.”

Why he’d chosen to do as she’d commanded him, she hadn’t figured out yet. This dog lived to make his humans miserable, as best she could tell. There was a slight possibility it amused him and a definite possibility he knew stealing pastries and wrestling with the Captains annoyed the hands that fed him.

Will Turner stuck his tongue out and pierced her with his knowing doggy gaze.

“Yeah, yeah, here’s your bonus treat.” She rolled her eyes. “You’re too easy if that’s all you expect for sticking to your new home until morning.”

The dog gulped down his treat and rewarded her by lifting his paw up in the air to shake. Will wonders never cease? The dogs could train themselves. Delilah raised her brows and complied with a perfunctory pump.

“Well, well. Someone was watching the session yesterday. Trying to show up Elizabeth Swann, are we?”

She threw him two treats for that, impressed to the nth degree he’d not only learned the trick on the sly but also performed it for her. This dog wanted her approval for some reason.

He’d earned it, no doubt.

Within two hours, Will Turner had indulged her with his mastery of sit, stay, heel, walking on a leash, and then had started training her by insisting that rolling over did in fact deserve a treat. She had to laugh the third time he showed his belly and woofed at her.

“You’re just a big show-off,” she told him and emptied the bag into his mouth because he’d just made her job a heck of a lot easier.

It was the second day, and she had Elizabeth Swann and Will Turner eating out of her hand. Literally. The rest of their progress? She’d love to say she was just that good of a dog trainer, but even she couldn’t sell that to herself. Someone had worked with these dogs before. Zero’s grandpa?

Likely. But it wasn’t like she could ask, not unless she wished to clue in her boss that he might possibly be paying her for something completely unnecessary. Granted, she hadn’t started with the Captains yet, and they might prove to be pretty difficult, but there was no doubt in her mind if Zero knew the dogs weren’t quite the handful he’d envisioned, she’d be out the door with no loan and nowhere to go.

No, she’d be keeping the dogs’ advancement to herself, thanks.

Since she’d willfully given Will Turner the last of her treats, she needed to make a quick run to town and maybe scare up some lunch. She blinked at the bright light as she exited the big red barn into the bare side yard that needed a few pecking chickens to complete the picture. The sun stood high overhead, making it close to noon if she had to guess, a requirement since she didn’t own a watch.

Zero waltzed into view, poetry in motion as his boots rolled across the scrabbly dirt. He wiped a hand across his forehead, muscles in his forearms bunching deliciously with the effort. That painting would be done with a plain background, nothing to detract from the subject. She’d call it Yum, and not one woman on the planet would question why.

When he caught sight of her, he slowed down, the corners of his mouth turning up ever so slightly. What was this? It was almost a smile, the first of which she could recall him voluntarily granting her with.

It made her greedy for more.

“I enjoyed dinner last night,” she told him, hoping it didn’t sound like as lame of an excuse to speak to him as it did to her.

But she’d been thinking about him all day, and these precious few seconds she’d been granted in his presence presented an opportunity she couldn’t pass up.

Though she had to admit, Zero’s personality confused her. Sometimes he seemed almost accessible, readily engaged in the conversation, but the next? Like talking to a brick wall. A long-suffering one at that, who had little time for mere mortals just doing the best they could.

A puzzle of a man, for sure.

Especially since she still didn’t get the draw between them. What was it about him? The man was short-tempered, crabby, and had never given her one iota of encouragement…and maybe she’d just answered her own question. She’d never been able to resist a challenge.

“It was just spaghetti,” he countered, his tone as gruff as always.

But after working so closely with him in the kitchen the night before, she’d learned a few things about him, and this was his “you’ve struck a nerve” voice. Interesting. What had she unwittingly poked at? His culinary skills?

“Spaghetti you made for your family. And I was included. That made it special in my book,” she said. “I’ve never had a family dinner, not that I remember anyway. So I appreciated every bit of it.”

His expression softened. Transfixed, she watched as his gaze opened up, revealing a brief flash of something she wanted to understand a whole lot better.

“I guess that’s my lesson to stop taking things for granted,” he murmured.

“Not like I was accusing you of that,” she said with a self-conscious laugh. “Just saying, you know, not all of us are used to that kind of thing.”

“We do it every night. You’re always welcome.”

How about that? The simplicity of the sentiment warmed her, though she tried not to read too much into it, especially since this wasn’t the first time he’d mentioned the standing invitation. But that was before. This was now, and she wanted it to mean something.

“I’ve never had a man cook for me once, let alone on a continual basis. I wouldn’t dream of missing it.”

“You’re hanging out with the wrong sort of men,” he advised. “Any man worth your time should know his way around a kitchen. What do you like to eat?”

“Are you asking me on a date, Mr. Renshaw?” Judging by the way his face morphed back into the solid barrier it usually resembled, it was the wrong thing to tease him about and was definitely not what he’d meant.

“I’m asking you what you like so I can cook it for you,” he explained flatly. “That’s all.”

Oh, well, of course. But wasn’t that almost like a date? She tucked her tongue in her cheek and opted not to mention that. “Steak. And chicken. I actually like almost everything. I’m not terribly picky.”

Starving doctoral candidates rarely had that luxury. Nor did she have men of any sort paying this close attention to her likes and dislikes. Just this one. There might be swooning in her future.

“I’ll take that under advisement next time I go to the store.” Zero glanced at the sun and started edging away. “Gotta get back to the fence.”

“I’m headed into town,” she blurted out, in an obvious, desperate attempt to keep him in her orbit for a bit longer.

Who could blame her? The man had just offered to cook for her on a regular basis. Maybe he asked everyone what they liked, but there was no one else here right now except the two of them, and dang if she didn’t want to peel back a layer or two of Zero Renshaw, just to see what other surprises he had hidden under his brick wall.

“Don’t let me keep you,” he said, throwing out an arm to indicate she should get on with the getting on. “Tag and I are going to the MacGregors’ later to check out their cows.”

A timely reminder of her purpose here, and it was to train dogs, not to spend another hour working out how to convince him cooking dinner for a woman did in fact equal a date. Even if there were other family members present. Some cultures insisted on it, in fact.

Delilah let Zero walk away, cursing how the man turned her brain into mush. She had no business thinking about him as anything other than her boss. None. But that didn’t seem to be enough of a reminder to stop her from envisioning a scenario where he made it very clear dinner was a date and she better get used to the idea. Because he was interested in her in a way that put a flutter in her tummy.

She jumped in her car to steer away from this madness.

The concrete road running in front of the Flying Pig stretched both ways for miles without even a sign to break up the lot of nothing. Delilah recalled Sheridan mentioning the closest town, Hush, lay to the left, so she steered her car in that direction, praying they’d have a grocery store that catered to pets instead of livestock.

The town was so tiny she almost missed it. Miller’s Feed and Seed and a gas station with a list of meats painted on the window sat at a four-way stop. A block over, a squat white building with big windows could pass for a church. Next to it, a larger but just as squat brick building boasted a sign declaring it to be the Hush Police Station and City Hall. A few houses sat beyond that. No horses tied up at the entrance to anything, though she wouldn’t be shocked if that was actually a common sight.

The Feed and Seed featured a limited selection of dog treats, but since beggars couldn’t be choosers, she loaded up, swiping basically the entire shelf into her basket.

The cashier, a willowy, ash blond woman with a ruddy face of the variety that came from being outside every day for forty years, eyed her curiously. “You must be the dog trainer the Renshaws hired.”

News traveled fast in this place.

“Did they send out an APB on me?” she asked, half joking.

The cashier laughed and held up one of the bags of dog treats that must have given away Delilah’s status. “Don’t have to around here. Tag Ryland came in yesterday, which is the same as taking out a full-page ad in the paper as far as telling folks stuff. I’m sure we’ll see you around.”

Mystified as to why Tag would find her worth mentioning to anyone, let alone a random cashier at a store that sold giant bags of horse food, Delilah nodded. “I’m Delilah Kersey, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

“Carol Miller. Like the sign.” She pointed over her shoulder to the placard behind her with the Miller Feed and Seed logo emblazoned on it. “Been in business fifty-seven years next month. Not me personally, of course, since I’m perpetually twenty-nine.”

“Oh, sure,” Delilah agreed instantly with a conspiratorial smile. “I was just thinking you don’t look a day over twenty-eight. Your parents started the place?”

Carol touched her nose and tapped. “I took over for good ’bout fifteen years ago when Mom and Dad ‘retired’ with huge air quotes because they don’t know what that means. I catch Dad in the back still trying to unload pallets of Horse Chow. At eighty-five, the man should know better, but he doesn’t listen to me or Doc Lowrey. You know how they are.”

No, she didn’t. Except for the workaholic part. That she knew about her father pretty well.

Odds on, the elder Millers had known Grandpa Renshaw, and if she came across the couple, she might ask if they knew anything about the history of the dogs, strictly for her own information. Delilah stored that information away and bid Carol goodbye.

After she got back to the ranch, she’d scarcely shut the car door when she spied a strawberry blond head peeking over the painted white railing of the porch. Hunter. Who must not realize he hadn’t turned invisible.

“I see you,” she commented with a laugh. “You don’t have to hide from me. I’m not going to get you in trouble again.”

The little head poked up to where she could see his eyes but not much more. The kid spent a lot of time on the porch. It only just then occurred to her that he might be hiding from something else. Or avoiding something—a reality she knew all too well.

“Did you go to town?” Hunter asked, his gaze on her bag.

Door number three—he’d been waiting for her. Why? She held it up. “To the feed store to get more dog treats.”

“So you can get the dogs to do what you say?”

She nodded. “Like I showed you. The treats are rewards.”

Man, his life must be boring if this was the conversation he wanted to be having. But she couldn’t ignore the fact he’d taken a strong interest in her activities, and more to the point, she didn’t think she should ignore it. Hunter needed a friend or some attention or both.

Mindful of the dressing down she’d gotten from Zero the day before, she nodded to the house.

“Ask your mom if you can come to the barn to watch my training sessions this afternoon,” she told him. “You don’t have to participate or anything unless you want to.”

He brightened visibly and vanished inside the house, letting the screen door slam against the frame. Okay, then. That suggestion had hit the mark, at least with Hunter.

When he came back, his smile told her he’d gotten his mom’s approval. Great. The boy had made huge strides yesterday, which couldn’t continue if his mom kept him away from Delilah.

“You want to work with Elizabeth Swann again today?” she asked him as they walked down to the barn together. “Or you want to see all the cool tricks Will Turner can do?”

“Can we do both?” he asked, his eagerness nearly breaking her heart.

Exactly how long had he been haunting that porch waiting for her to come back from the store?

“Sure, Buddy, you bet.” She handed him one of the treat bags. “Put that one in your pocket. It’ll be yours.”

“For my very own?” When she nodded, he took the bag reverently as if she’d filled it full of hundred-dollar bills and bubble gum and maybe some Manga, or whatever kids his age liked. “How many can I give Elizabeth Swann?”

“As many as you think you should. The point is to reward her good behavior and withhold treats when she doesn’t do what she’s supposed to. It’s kind of hard to do that sometimes, because she’s so cute and sweet. But you have to remember that you’re trying to help her become the best dog she can be, right?”

All of that rolled off her tongue so easily, despite never being told stuff like that during her own lessons on how to train dogs. Her father’s teaching philosophy hinged on negative reinforcement, both with people and animals. Before she’d adopt that as her own method, she’d get in her car, drive away, and never return.

Hunter nodded solemnly. “That’s what my dad used to say when he made me go to bed before I wanted to.”

“Really?” She swallowed, torn between whether she should pull at that thread because he wanted to talk about his dad or change the subject in case this one was too painful. But he wouldn’t have brought it up if he hoped she’d ignore the comment, would he? “Which part, about helping you become the best dog you can be?”

Hunter laughed, as she’d hoped he would. “No, silly. He said he was helping me become the best boy.”

“Oh, I see. My mistake.”

He grew quiet, stepping back toward one of the empty stalls as he got the lay of the land, likely trying to assure himself the dogs wouldn’t barrel into the main thoroughfare in a tangle of fur and bared teeth.

“It’s okay,” she told him. “The dogs are all in their rooms, patiently waiting their turn. We’re not going to have a pack of badly behaved degenerates roaming the ranch anymore, doing whatever they please. We have nothing but civilized dogs here now.”

As he puzzled through that, his little face screwed up. “You already got them trained?”

“Oh, no, not completely,” she threw in hastily in the world’s worst backtrack. “We’re still working on things. I just don’t want you to be worried about the dogs bothering you or getting too close when you’re not expecting it.”

“They scare me sometimes,” he admitted quietly, and she could tell it pained him to do so. “I didn’t use to be. Before.”

He didn’t have to tell her before what. “Oh, Buddy, I’m sorry. They don’t mean to scare you. Is there something in particular that they’re doing different now than they did before?”

There was so much more she wished she could say, more she should say, given that she had a unique understanding of losing a parent, having an emotionally unavailable surviving parent, and dogs as a whole.

But she wasn’t being paid to act as Hunter Bassett’s therapist. There was no upside in this situation, and she couldn’t fathom which would be worse—being good at it and then leaving or being bad at it and then leaving.

“I guess maybe I’m different,” he said, impressing the pants off of her with his insight. “Not the dogs.”

Maybe he already saw a therapist. It wouldn’t be unusual. “Did someone tell you that?”

He shrugged. “No, I just feel different inside. Nothing works right, and it’s like there’s a giant hole that used to be full of my dad.”

Geez. Her heart twisted so hard it nearly brought tears to her eyes. There was no way she could ignore his obvious suffering. “That’s because you need a dog.”

This was a bad road to be going down, not when she had so much work to do already, but she couldn’t stop herself from veering off on this fork, whatever it looked like.

“You mean like you said before? That Elizabeth Swann could be my friend?”

“You got it. She can be that and a whole lot more.” The glint in his eyes pushed her words out faster, words she shouldn’t be saying but couldn’t stop herself from spitting out. “She can make it so you’re different. Maybe not the same as you were before, but maybe that’s okay. She can help you be the someone you’re going to be now.”

In other words, Hunter needed much more than a friend. He needed an emotional support dog, plain as day. And she’d never trained one before.

How hard could it be, though?

As Hunter absorbed what she’d told him, she started to as well, and the resulting realizations put a pit in her stomach.

She wasn’t supposed to be training emotional support dogs. Getting Hunter used to Elizabeth Swann and calling her his friend was one thing. This was something else.

Going down this path meant doing something entirely different than what she’d been hired to do. It was one thing to tell Zero she had experience with basic obedience training—which wasn’t exactly a lie, just a slight omission of the fact all of her experience lay in watching other people do it. But it was another thing entirely to willfully abandon the training path laid out before her by the man who signed her paychecks.

Surely that man, the same one who’d so fiercely hugged his nephew yesterday, would be on board with getting the boy some desperately needed love to fill the hole he so readily admitted his father’s death had left inside him.

It was just one dog. Not all of them. The rest could still herd cows and watch for predators.

The bold plan marched through her head, refusing to be dismissed. Especially not when Hunter slipped his hand into hers and glanced up at her.

“I would like it if Elizabeth Swann could be my friend and sleep with me and make it so I’m not afraid anymore,” he told her.

That sealed it. One emotional support dog coming up.

But given Zero’s mercurial personality, she couldn’t risk telling him her plan right off the bat. What if he fired her on the spot? She couldn’t risk that, not until her loan came through. And honestly, she wouldn’t deal well with not being able to finish working with Elizabeth Swann on Hunter’s behalf, either. Or never seeing Zero again, for that matter. He intrigued her, maybe more than he should, but she’d hate to give up her new hobby of trying to rattle him.

Better to keep her mouth shut.