by Lisa Childs
There. At a table near the counter, Elissa spotted a woman who had just stood up. She appeared slender, of medium height, with wavy reddish hair. And yes, she was wearing the anticipated T-shirt.
Smiling, her small purse slung over her shoulder, Elissa began making her way through the tables. In less than a minute she had reached her goal. “Amber?”
“Elissa!” Amber reached out and gave her a brief hug, as if they were already friends.
Elissa, hugging back, hoped that was a harbinger of what was to come.
“Let’s get you something to eat and drink,” Amber said after stepping back. Elissa noted there was already a brown coffee cup on the table, as well as a paper plate with a half-eaten croissant on it.
“Sounds good.” Elissa was rather surprised that she had to argue a bit about who would pay for the café mocha and scone she ordered, but allowed Amber to treat rather than cause even a small rift between them to start with.
If she got the job, she would be glad to treat her boss to coffee or whatever in the future.
In a few minutes, after the barista had done her thing, Elissa sat on the vacant seat at Amber’s table. Her view was of a few occupied tables between where she sat and the order counter.
Amber began their conversation. “I already know the basics from our phone call, but please tell me more about your work with therapy dogs and training their owners.”
Elissa couldn’t help grinning. She pushed her shoulder-length blond hair away from her face as she tried to get serious. But that was impossible, considering how much she loved what she did.
“Well,” she began, “I’ve been at it for around three years. I’m a nurse, too. When I saw how therapy dogs who were brought into hospitals cheered patients so much, actually helping them improve faster, I had to give it a try.”
Not just a try, but much more. She had chosen her dog Peace, a golden retriever, after watching many skilled breeds and rescue dogs. Goldens performed really well as therapy dogs, following their owners’ instructions and giving lots and lots of attention and love to sad and needy patients.
She described how qualified therapy dog handlers had worked with Peace and her from the first, teaching her all she needed to get started. Then she began doing it on her own.
And recently she had paid it forward and begun working with other potential therapy dog handlers in the hospital where she was primarily a full-time pediatric nurse. She had even provided a few classes for would-be handlers and their dogs, even though formal schooling wasn’t generally necessary for therapy dogs. If they had the right personalities for it, their skills could be learned as people worked with their dogs at appropriate locations with expert handlers. But her students had all been appreciative—and had done well, some going on to become certified handlers themselves.
“Yes, we’re aware that most therapy dog handlers learn how to do it by working directly with others at various facilities,” Amber said. “But we want our Chance K-9 Ranch to expand into many different avenues for teaching dogs and their owners. We’re also looking for a basic pet trainer or two, but we especially would like to hire someone who provides therapy dog training—though I realize that it’s mostly the owners who need schooling. We want to start with basic classes at the ranch, then provide some of that hands-on training when the students are ready.”
“Sounds good to me,” Elissa responded.
“And your experience teaching other handlers sounds good to me,” Amber said as she took a sip of her drink. She was an attractive woman with assessing brown eyes and an expressive mouth. Would she be a good boss?
Heck, she and everyone else at her ranch most likely worked with dogs. That certainly spoke well of her, along with the ranch’s reputation.
“Thanks,” Elissa said. “And if you’d like, I can give you contact information for several more people who’ll act as references for me.” She’d asked some of her fellow therapy dog handlers before taking this meeting. She wasn’t attempting to keep her ambition here secret, although she’d also made it clear to those she’d spoken with about it that she would limit her time in this part-time position, if she got it, so it would not affect her full-time job.
Or at least not much.
“Good,” Amber said. “And as I mentioned on the phone, this kind of class is something new around here. We want someone quickly. You’ve got the best credentials and recommendations of any of our candidates so far, but I’ll want you to come to the K-9 Ranch and give a demonstration, preferably in the next couple of days, before we make any decisions. Also—” She stopped speaking and smiled as she gazed past Elissa.
Which caused Elissa, thrilled to hear Amber’s reference to her background, to turn to see what she was looking at.
She smiled, too, as she saw two cops in black uniform jackets, a man and woman, walk into the coffee shop. But she wasn’t smiling at them.
No, she grinned because these were obviously K-9 cops. They both had dogs on leashes at their sides. As Elissa watched, they approached the table where she sat, maneuvering effortlessly through the crowd.
Amber stood. “Hi, Maisie and Doug,” she said as the cops reached them. “And hi, Hooper and Griffin, too.”
Elissa rose, as well, while Amber introduced the officers and their dogs to her. The two cops apparently had more in common than merely being K-9 officers. They were also brother and sister. If Elissa was correct, Maisie, with short, blond hair and an air of being in charge, was the older sibling. Her dog, Griffin, was a golden retriever who appeared older and larger than Elissa’s Peace, whom she’d left at home.
“Hi, Elissa,” Maisie said when Amber had completed the introductions. “So you’re a therapy dog trainer. I’d like to learn more about that. I think Griffin would be a wonderful therapy dog along with his great K-9 skills—which are mostly scenting out drugs and bad guys.”
Hearing his name, the dog looked up at his handler and wagged his fluffy tail. Elissa couldn’t help smiling. “I’d be glad to show you,” she told the cop.
She turned her smile toward the other officer, Doug. He didn’t smile back as he looked at Elissa. Why not? She felt an inappropriate twinge of hurt—no, it had to be irritation—that she immediately sloughed off.
Too bad his sister seemed nicer, though, since even with a neutral expression on his face, he appeared to be one hot, handsome cop. His hair was light brown, darker and much shorter than his sister’s. His chiseled features were dominated by the way his hazel eyes, beneath thick brows, seemed to focus on Elissa, which made her insides churn with something she hadn’t felt—hadn’t allowed herself to feel—for a very long time: lust.
Though he hadn’t spoken after saying hello to her, she determined to break the silence between them. After all, it wouldn’t hurt for her to have additional allies in this area who clearly cared about dogs. “I’d be glad to give you a therapy dog demonstration, too,” she said. “And if it’s possible, I’d also love to watch a K-9 training session sometime.” One that included his German shepherd.
“Then Amber has hired you already?” Doug’s tone sounded somewhat skeptical—and Elissa figured he knew enough to recognize that she had just met her potential new boss.
“Not yet,” Amber said. “That’ll depend on how Elissa’s demonstration at the ranch goes. Does tomorrow work for you, Elissa?”
She’d fortunately anticipated the possibility and scheduled the next day as another day off from the hospital—though she’d been prepared to change that if necessary. “That works great for me,” she said. She turned back to Maisie, though she also would be interested in a response from her brother. “Will you come and watch the demo?”
“Unlikely.” Maisie’s tone sounded regretful. “We’ll be on duty and there’s an investigation pending that we’ll probably be involved in.”
“Well, maybe another time,” Elissa said, hazarding a brief glance toward Doug. He was still watching her with those intense hazel eyes.
“Maybe,” he said, th
en looked down and patted the top of his shepherd’s head. “As long as Hooper doesn’t mind. He provides all the therapy I need.”
*
Doug Murran ran into a lot of women both in his capacity as a police officer and in everyday life, even in a town as small as Chance. Some were nice looking, even pretty.
But few were as attractive as Elissa Yorian.
Maybe it wasn’t only her sexy, appealing appearance in her attractive professional outfit, though. Or her slightly unkempt blond hair framing a lovely, mostly smiling face.
Maybe it was because she clearly loved dogs. After all, she was a therapy dog handler and trainer. She was additionally a nurse, another indication that she cared about helping people.
He cared about helping people, too, though from a different perspective.
He was a cop.
“Do you two have time to join us for coffee?” Amber asked.
“Sure.” He moved his gaze to the K-9 Ranch owner. He’d just been about to suggest the same thing—even though he figured his dear sis, Maisie, would balk at the idea. They’d intended just to come in and leave with take-out coffee. But their next meeting at the Chance Police Department headquarters wasn’t for another half hour.
“Oh, but—” Maisie began from beside him.
“But we can’t stay long,” he added. He didn’t look at Maisie, knowing her gaze would be shrewd and critical.
She knew him well, for multiple reasons—as both his sibling and coworker. But he stayed out of her way—mostly—when she began flirting with a new guy. She needed to learn to do the same with him.
For now, to placate her, he said, “Do you want the usual, Officer Murran? My treat.”
“Yes, thanks, Officer Murran,” she responded, a droll look in her eyes. But telling Griffin to sit, she walked off to pick up a couple more chairs.
While he, Hooper at his side, went to order their regular black coffees and mixed-fruit muffins.
Doug was glad to see that the chair remaining empty after he picked up their drinks and food was next to Elissa’s. He first set Maisie’s stuff on the table in front of her, then took his seat. “Sit, Hooper,” he said, and of course his well-behaved, obedient—and smart—shepherd listened.
“He’s lovely,” Elissa said. “Is it okay to pet him?”
“Sure, in this kind of situation, when we’re not on duty.” He couldn’t help grinning when he saw Hooper ease his head up to meet the gentle scratching that Elissa leveled on him behind his tall ears. Too bad he wasn’t getting the same kind of treatment.
But good thing they were in a social setting here. If Elissa happened to be a civilian involved in some manner in one of their cases, no way could he even consider being attracted to her.
That was how it should be. It had additionally been drummed into both Maisie and him by their wonderful uncle Cy, who was also a cop.
“Like Doug said, we can’t stay long,” Maisie said before Doug had decided how to start a conversation. “But I’ve always had an interest in the possibility of having Griffin trained as a therapy dog for when he’s too old to work as a K-9. He’s a wonderful K-9, and he’s been known to bring down a lot of bad guys, but he loves people, too.”
“Well, if things work out and Elissa becomes our new therapy dog trainer,” Amber said, “you’re more than welcome to participate in one of her classes. No charge, either. You and your dogs have come through for me plenty in the past.”
Doug shot a glance toward Elissa. Would she balk at the possibility of some students who didn’t pay? He’d heard that therapy dog handlers were mostly just volunteers anyway, but Elissa was here interviewing for a job. Of course, she’d probably still get paid by Amber, who had often demonstrated what a good citizen and training supervisor she was during her fairly short career in that position here.
“Really?” Elissa said. “How?”
“I’ll tell you all about it if things work out between us,” Amber said.
“That gives me an even better reason to do a really good job at tomorrow’s demonstration.” Elissa’s smile, first at Maisie and then at him, caused a slow sizzle to build inside him. That was emphasized even more when Elissa said to Amber, “Will the demo be just to you, or will others be present?” She shot a quick glance toward Doug that then landed on Maisie. To his surprise, he had a real urge to be at the K-9 Ranch tomorrow. Too bad he figured it wouldn’t work out.
“Oh, my mother and some of my staff might be there, too,” Amber replied.
“One in particular ought to be there,” Doug added somewhat slyly. “How about your head trainer Evan?”
He knew of their mutual attraction and half expected her to blush a bit, or to attempt to stick a bland expression on her face, but instead Amber’s grin widened. “Oh, absolutely,” she said. Then she looked at Elissa. “He joined us recently after some really great demonstrations. And now he’s continued to prove himself to be both a wonderful K-9 and pet dog trainer. He’s our head trainer at the ranch, our only trainer right now, actually, though we’re looking for others.”
“Does he train therapy or service dogs or their handlers, too?” Elissa asked.
“No, although my dad, who was his predecessor, did a little work with therapy dogs.” Amber’s face looked sad for a moment, but she shook her head then smiled a little. “That’s why we need you for the therapy angle,” Amber continued. “Assuming, of course, that all goes well.”
“Of course,” Elissa said.
If Amber hired Elissa, Doug figured she would give her a quick rundown about the Chance K-9 Ranch’s background—probably including how Amber’s dad had been murdered in a then-unsolved case, and how Amber had come home to keep the ranch going for her mother and herself, without knowing anything about dog training.
She’d held tryouts, and Evan had won.
And she and Evan had managed to figure out together who’d killed Corbin Belott…
“I gather that you two won’t be there to watch my demonstration,” Elissa continued, “which is a shame. My pet and therapy dog Peace is also a golden.” She reached over to caress Griffin’s head, and Maisie’s dog wagged his tail vigorously as he leaned toward the woman petting him.
“It is a shame.” Maisie did appear sorry. “But you’ll see Griffin and me again, to watch if and when you start your classes at the ranch. You can count on that.”
“I will.”
Doug noted that Elissa again aimed a brief gaze toward him, then looked once more at the dog whose head she stroked. If she was silently inquiring if he’d be around to observe future therapy classes, too, he would have thought his response would have been an unqualified no.
Before.
Now, he wasn’t so sure.
But heck. It was time for Maisie and him to go. Sure, he found this new acquaintance charming and sexy and definitely of interest for the future—but she had yet to be hired and he might never see her again.
Too bad.
Well, hopefully she would land that job at the K-9 Ranch. There’d at least be a possibility of seeing her again then, though not as his or his dog’s trainer.
He rose then. “Nice meeting you, Elissa.” He offered his hand for a polite and noncommittal shake. When she grasped it firmly in hers, he had to resist pulling her close for a goodbye kiss.
Ridiculous. His mind was taunting him as if he was a sex-starved teenager.
As Maisie, too, said her goodbyes to Elissa and Amber, he nodded at the K-9 Ranch owner, then told Hooper, on his leash, to heel.
And couldn’t help, at the coffee shop door, turning back and looking once more toward Elissa. Who was looking at him, too.
He nodded then turned.
It would probably be a good thing if she didn’t land that job at the K-9 Ranch.
He wasn’t ready for a new woman in his life. Probably wouldn’t be for a long time, no matter how attractive he found someone.
But the thought of not seeing her again?
“Hey, bro,” Maisie said
as they and their dogs stepped out onto the sidewalk outside the coffee shop. “What’s with your attitude toward that pretty dog trainer? You after some time alone with her?”
“Hey, you know me, sis. I’m always looking, sometimes scoring, and that’s all fine with me.”
“Well, just be careful.” Maisie aimed her hazel-eyed gaze, so like his own, up at him as both dogs sat at their sides. “I’ve got a feeling that you’ll be the loser, with the lowest score, in any game you play with that one.”
Copyright © 2018 by Linda O. Johnston
ISBN-13: 9781488093227
Soldier Bodyguard
Copyright © 2018 by Lisa Childs
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