The Dalmatian Dilemma

by Cheryl Harper

  Reyna’s snort wrinkled some of the peaceful atmosphere.

  “Are you snorting at me? At my pain?” Sean drawled, determined to play off the sharp ache in the region of his heart at her dismissive sound.

  “Never at your pain, but your definition of hero is kind of small.” Reyna took the leash from Dottie’s mouth again. “Chew toys. That’s my first purchase in the morning.”

  Sean turned to face her. “What does that mean? About my definition of hero?”

  Reyna stared straight ahead, her focus on the parking lot instead of the dog chewing on her other shoestring. “You’re the guy who rescues dogs and vets and women who need help in the middle of the night and friends who need a laugh and old guys named Charlie who have no one else to turn to and grandmothers who love disco. I’ve known a lot of men and women who flew dangerous missions, but I’ve never met anyone else like you. You have time for what matters, for what people need—you have time for the people who can get lost too easily.”

  She kept staring straight ahead and didn’t look at him. Though he wanted her to.

  “So don’t tell me you aren’t a hero. I abandoned my sister because I needed to get away from being a Montero. You wouldn’t have done that.”

  Whatever he’d wanted to say was gone when Reyna waved her hand. “None of that’s important. You’re a hero, so don’t say anything silly like that to me again.” She stood and brushed off her shorts. Her untied shoe flopped down on the sidewalk and Dottie immediately scooped it up in her mouth. Reyna bent down and wrapped an arm loosely around Sean’s neck for a hug before seesawing back up the stairs, one sneakered foot and one bare foot. “And I think I’ve changed my mind.”

  Sean couldn’t have figured out what she meant even if the conversation had followed a recognizable pattern. He was stuck on the scent of roses that followed her. It suited her perfectly, especially in the dark night, just the two of them.

  “Your service animals...” She touched Dottie on the head. The dog stared up at her with her mouth clamped around the shoe. “They’re important. If you’ll help me train Dottie, I want to go ahead with your plan. We’ll start with the volunteers you’ve identified, and roll out the full program after we work through this first class of dogs. Brisa will be happy, too.” Reyna offered him her hand. “Deal?”

  Sean stood and took her hand. “What about your father?” He didn’t let go. “I’ll help you no matter what, Reyna.”

  She snorted again. “See? That’s what I mean. I’m offering you the perfect opportunity to get whatever you want, but you’re going to insist on doing the right thing, even if you lose your leverage.”

  Sean studied her face. “You might have a point.”

  “We’re going to do this—we’ll get your program up and going. Dottie is going to become the station’s perfect mascot, and I will earn my spot on the crew.” Reyna shook her head. “But when my father finds out, there will be consequences.” She shrugged. “Like the last time I refused to follow his rules.”

  Sean hadn’t let go of her hand. He didn’t want to. She’d disappear inside when he did. “Consequences for me?”

  “Possibly. Brisa and I have a little protection, but you... Your job...” Reyna stared up at him. “Just make sure you understand that my father won’t hesitate to put your job on the line to pull us all into what he wants. When I left home the first time, Dad tied the strings up tightly for Brisa, so she’s been here, dealing with him alone. I did what I wanted the first time around. I don’t want the consequences of my decisions to overwhelm either of you this time.”

  “I was looking for a job when I found this one, Reyna, and honestly, I’ve seen you and your sister face off. Surely your father is smart enough to avoid the heat y’all bring.” He couldn’t contain the smile as she rolled her eyes. “It’s going to be okay. I’ll set up the training and let you know when we start.”

  “Okay.” Reyna pulled her hand free. “See you in the sunlight, Sean.” She was behind a closed door before Sean was free of the spell.

  “See you in the sunlight,” he repeated. It was almost poetic, something he’d never associated with Reyna Montero, but the sentiment made perfect sense.

  Both of them wore masks during the day. Hers said competent, confident, a leader. His was confident, too, but also easygoing, laid-back, with a joke always on his lips.

  But tonight they’d both been who they were underneath all that.

  Not quite as strong or confident, but real.

  It had taken the miracle of falling in love with a puppy to bring this side of Reyna out. He was reminded of that instant when she’d asked if love was supposed to happen like that. The thread between them had snapped into place.

  In the sunlight, she’d be on her guard again, her protective facade in place.

  He could fall for the other Reyna, the one she protected. The problem would be finding her again.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  AFTER A WEEKEND of doing her best to teach Dottie some manners while carefully avoiding making a bigger nuisance of herself to her next-door neighbor, Reyna was excited to return to Sawgrass Station for her first official day.

  When the chief had informed her that the first order of business was taking the ladder truck for a drive, Reyna was nearly certain she’d hit the jackpot. The academy’s lessons on the big ladder trucks and smaller engines that pumped water had been minimal. Starting them up, which was complex; working the electronics, also a challenge; and getting comfortable with the height had been the focus. They’d done most of their practice in a simulator.

  But today, this morning, Reyna was sitting behind the wheel of an actual fire truck and the adrenaline was sweet.

  Almost as sweet as facing down the runway in a jet.

  “Your buddy Pulaski is not a big fan of the truck?” Baptiste asked as Reyna snapped the lap belt closed.

  “Took out a school bus in my first run through the driving simulator. Never been the same since,” Pulaski answered from his spot on the jump seat behind Baptiste. He was wearing headphones to monitor communication in the cab. “The horror of fake kids screaming takes a minute to forget.”

  Baptiste raised his eyebrows at Reyna. “Ain’t never heard that before.”

  “Pulaski went first but everybody in the class learned a lesson from his run. We all slowed down.” Reyna shook her head. “I only sideswiped a light pole.”

  “That could happen today, too, but let’s hope there ain’t no buses running,” Baptiste drawled.

  “Second-guessing the chief’s assignment, Baptiste?” Reyna asked as she turned the switches and pressed the buttons to start up the truck. The immediate thrum of the engines was like magic—every one of her senses was alert, prepared for anything.

  “Never. For me, riding in the truck never gets old.” Baptiste shook his head. “Might wish I had a helmet, but I’m prepared to die.”

  Reyna rolled her head on her shoulders to loosen the tension in her neck. “Where to?”

  “We’re gonna take a practice turn around this parkin’ lot first.” He pointed. “Take me in a circle, nice and slow.”

  Reyna followed his directions and then did the same thing in reverse to show she could.

  “All right, now let’s head for the open road.” Baptiste sighed. “But let’s stay off the interstate.”

  Reyna enjoyed the spark of anticipation. Driving this big red beauty on a call would be thrilling. Even today on a sedate run on the city streets around Sawgrass Station, her senses were sharper than they had been since she’d retired. She was focused and she followed Baptiste’s directions perfectly. Warning lights, check. Light bar, check. Siren blast, check. Horn at the intersection, check.

  And it was over too soon. Reyna fought the sinking sensation as she made the wide turn back into Sawgrass Station.

  Baptiste said, “Think you might have found your calli
ng.”

  Since she was already considering how to convince the chief to send her for the specialized driving course, Reyna thought he might be right.

  “Let’s back it into place, then.” Baptiste stretched to look one way and then the other, and pointed at the middle opening. This was a test.

  Reyna checked over her shoulder to see Pulaski’s concerned expression. If they knew some of the places she’d maneuvered in and out of...

  Focusing hard, Reyna enjoyed the sizzle of a challenge. Then she backed forty-plus feet of ladder truck into the middle bay of the station in one try.

  The urge to celebrate was nearly overwhelming, but she tamped it down.

  Baptiste whistled loud and long. “You absolutely just did that.” Then he held up his hand for a high five and Reyna smacked it hard.

  Sliding out of the high seat was sad but exhilarating, especially when Pulaski rounded the truck to meet her.

  “Guess that Air Force training comes in handy sometimes.” Reyna smiled sweetly at him.

  Pulaski followed Baptiste’s lead and held up his hand. Reyna smacked his twice as hard and had to fight the urge to strut into the station. Up to that point, she hadn’t been sure that this plan was the best for her life. Running Concord Court was an awesome calling and responsibility.

  But today? She was alive and she could not wait to climb back up into that driver’s seat.

  “Come on,” Baptiste said, already heading inside. “Meeting’s in a few.”

  She walked into the room of unknown firefighters whom she was going to have to connect to, a much harder job. Reyna braced her shoulder against the paneled wall of the common room at Sawgrass Station and tried to pretend she was perfectly comfortable. Her new uniform? The navy T-shirt and twill station cargo pants were fine. Pretending that she didn’t notice or mind the surreptitious glances from everyone in the room? That was disconcerting. The key to that was forcing the muscles in her face to relax. Since her normal expression in such situations might be called “Resting Worried Face,” it was something she worked on now and then, especially around new groups. That only meant she was thinking.

  Reyna scanned the firefighters and realized no one was paying a bit of attention to her at that moment.

  Dottie was snoozing in the captain’s chair and all eyes were on her.

  “I understand we have a couple new distractions, but focus up, people,” Mort Fields snapped. A small rustle filled the space as everyone turned back to him. “This week a crew will be cleaning and doing maintenance on Engine Three, led by Rashid. Training will continue with our new recruits, Montero and Pulaski. They will also be shadowing several of you for the next few weeks.” Fields waved at them. “Many of you know Pulaski’s father, heretofore known as the first Pulaski. This Pulaski’s an army veteran, aced his physical aptitude and has no natural talent for working with dogs.”

  Pulaski dipped his head to acknowledge the comment but didn’t argue.

  Fields waited for the rumble of welcomes and trash talk to die down. Reyna straightened up. Her turn was coming.

  “And Montero here comes to us from the Air Force. Decorated officer. Has trouble with her gloves, so don’t let her drop you on your head.” Fields stared at her over his clipboard.

  Reyna tipped her chin up. She’d wear gloves twenty-four hours a day for the rest of her life if that was what it took to never drop anything again, just to show them. She definitely needed the practice.

  “Montero speaks Dottie’s language, so for now, she’s training and caring for the dog. She and Pulaski will take most of our school visits when the school year kicks off and most of our community outreach, but I’ll still require volunteers when I ask for volunteers.” He dropped his clipboard. “Do I need to give my speech on the importance of community support to you, to me, to first responders all over this city?”

  Reyna bit back a smile at the solemn headshaking that went around the room. He’d obviously given the talk more than once. They did not want to sit through it again.

  “I didn’t think so, and your next opportunity is coming up. Back to School Blowout, the citywide festival that’ll be taking place at Bayfront Park, is in two weeks. Montero will be Dottie’s handler. We’ll have a photo booth along with several police K9 units. Baptiste will be cooking jambalaya for sale, which is always a moneymaker. The volunteer group is planning to sell baked goods. I need guys to operate the engines, sit in the dunking booth, and make up the volleyball team that will defeat whatever losers the cops put out on the court.” Fields stared over his reading glasses. “Pulaski will be in the dunking booth, for sure.”

  Reyna turned to see what Pulaski thought of the decision. His lips were a tight line, but he nodded.

  “I knew I could count on you.” Fields waited for the rest of the slots to be filled by volunteers. Reyna almost volunteered to captain the volleyball team, but Fields added, “This volleyball game needs to be good. Otherwise, we’re looking at some new volunteers for extra kitchen duties.”

  She’d clap from the sidelines this time. She hated cooking, and dishes were worse.

  No one in the room groaned or argued. Reyna understood why there was no response.

  Fields had his guys trained well.

  And she’d gotten off lucky. How hard could a photo booth with Dottie be?

  As if she’d heard her name, the dog came trotting out of the chief’s office with a file folder in her mouth.

  The dog loved paper. Reyna would have covered her face with her hands, but Dottie dropped the file immediately when she realized everyone was staring at her. Then she sat beautifully and wagged her tail. The response was immediate. “Aww” was the general consensus. Around the room, people tried to get her attention. Reyna noticed even Pulaski got into the game as he knelt down and snapped his fingers.

  That much distraction made Reyna nervous. They’d been practicing the sign language for “watch me” and “sit” for a couple of days, but Dottie was a work in progress.

  Luckily, Reyna had discovered that cheddar cheese, little bites of it, were Dottie’s obsession. She’d convinced the dog to drop her credit card bill by walking toward the refrigerator on Sunday.

  “You won’t know if you don’t try,” Reyna muttered to herself. She waved to get the dog’s attention and then raised her hand to touch her cheek below her eye, the signal she’d been using for “watch me.” Dottie’s ears lifted. They hadn’t done anything with “come” yet, but Reyna had already decided patting her leg would be the symbol. Dogs instinctively knew that one, right?

  Reyna gave it a shot. She patted her leg and Dottie trotted over before plopping down in a lounge. It could use some work, but Reyna pulled out a bite of cheddar—apparently she was going to be carrying cheese around in a plastic bag in her pocket for the rest of Dottie’s life. The dog took her treat and everyone in the room applauded as if she’d accomplished something outstanding.

  “That dog was a beautiful menace last week,” Baptiste said with a whistle. “Good thing Montero came along, huh, Pulaski?”

  Good thing Sean Wakefield couldn’t sleep at night was more like it, but Reyna loved seeing Pulaski’s grimace so much that she’d never admit to having help.

  “That will be all for today.” Fields motioned everyone out the door. “Pulaski, Montero, we’ll be training Wednesday, Thursday and Friday this week. You’re off duty until then. I appreciate you coming in this morning.”

  “Glad to do it, Chief,” Reyna said as she picked up the end of Dottie’s leash and the folder she’d dropped. “We’ve still got lots of work to do.”

  “Baptiste was right. Good work with the dog.” Fields bent down to press a kiss to Dottie’s head. “Make sure she’s good with crowds. Disappointing kids is something I’ll never be okay with, so a dog that’s scared of kids is going to be a problem.”

  Reyna nodded, even as she wondered how sh
e’d find kids to test Dottie’s response before her upcoming appearance at the big Back to School Blowout the city had thrown for as long as Reyna could remember. All the city services had booths there, along with entertainment, food and lots of fun for kids. Police, fire, EMT... They all collected donations that supported a variety of programs. The fire department had always collected to fund academy scholarships for kids who wanted to become first responders.

  “You get the dog. I get the dunking booth.” Pulaski sighed. “That’s fair.”

  Reyna almost tripped over Dottie as she turned to study Pulaski. Was he being nice?

  “I’m a better swimmer than you are,” he added before his lips curved in what might be a smile.

  Reyna snorted. “Don’t dare me, Pulaski. I know where there’s a pool open for a race right now.” She stopped as he bent to talk to Dottie.

  “What a pretty girl,” he murmured before rolling his eyes. “She can’t hear me. I guess I don’t know how to handle dogs. Never had one growing up.”

  “I didn’t, either.” Reyna shook her head. “Whatever she can and can’t hear, she can definitely see your face. So I think she gets what you mean. She’s pretty smart.” When Dottie glanced up at her, Reyna gave her a piece of cheese.

  “What is that?” Pulaski pointed at the bag of treats.

  “The key to success.” Reyna grinned and slipped the bag back in her pocket. “Be nice to me and I’ll share it.” Her phone vibrated to indicate she had a text, so Reyna pulled it out of the other pocket, relieved she’d remembered to put it on silent before the meeting. If she hadn’t and someone had texted ten minutes earlier, she might be the one sitting in the dunking booth.

  Are you coming into the office after your meeting? The text was from Brisa.

  Reyna typed, Headed in now. Gotta stop to change clothes. Be there in fifteen.

  Her sister’s thumbs-up emoji was a quick response.

  Pulaski held the door open for her and Dottie. “I’m pretty glad to be in the dunking booth. Kids are a lot.”