Page 54 of Rescuing Dr. Marian
“Well, she found me,” Tommy laughed as he tried to fend off her overexcited affections.
I jogged over and grabbed her collar, pulling her back. “That’s not tracking. That’s just… following her favorite person around. She’s supposed to use her nose, not her emotional attachment.”
“Well, isn’t scent sometimes tied to emotional attachment?” he asked, grinning as he wiped dog slobber off his cheek.
I ran a hand through my hair and huffed out a laugh, thinking about my new fascination with citrus shampoo. “Christ, I hope not.”
“What?”
“Nothing. Let’s try again.”
We tried again, but with the same result. Chickie ignored the scent trail entirely and went straight to Tommy like she wasplaying fetch with a person instead of a ball. She was clearly not learning to track. No matter how far into the trees he zigzagged and hid, she hotfooted it right to his location as fast as canine-ly possible.
“This isn’t working,” I muttered after the fifth failed attempt. “She’s too excited about you to focus on actual tracking work.”
Tommy sat up, brushing grass off his shirt. “So what do we do?”
“We switch,” I decided, handing him Chickie’s leash. “You handle her, I’ll be the victim. She needs to learn to work with someone who isn’t her obsession.”
“Are you sure? I don’t know the first thing about handling a tracking dog.”
“You’ll learn,” I said, yanking off my T-shirt and rubbing it under my arms before handing it over. “Besides, it’ll be good practice for both of you.”
Tommy’s eyes blinked a few times in rapid succession as he stared at my bare chest before glancing up at my eyes with a dazed look on his face. “Practice makes perfect.”
For the next thirty minutes, I coached Tommy through handling techniques while I laid trails with volunteer scent articles from other students while hiding others. This worked much better—Chickie actually had to use her nose to find the target, and Tommy learned how to read her body language, when to encourage her, and how to reward success.
“You’re good at this,” I called from behind him as Tommy guided Chickie through a particularly tricky section of trail. “She’s actually working now instead of just running to her favorite person.”
“She’s incredible,” Tommy called back, and I could hear the genuine pride in his voice as Chickie successfully navigated around a fallen tree to continue following the scent. “Look at her go!”
When Chickie finally found the target, she sat and waited for her reward like she was supposed to, tail wagging but focused on Tommy for direction.
“Good girl!” Tommy praised, giving her a treat and lots of pets. “You did such a good job!”
The sight of them working together, Tommy’s patient encouragement and Chickie’s growing confidence, did something dangerous to my chest, and I had to admit that exactly what I’d been afraid of had come to pass. It wasn’t just physical attraction that made me crave him the way I did, but this. The way he fit into my world like he’d always belonged here. The way he looked at Chickie like she was his dog, too.
The way he looked at me like I was something more than… well, somethingmore.
“You try being the victim again,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “And this time, make the trail more challenging.”
We’d just started the next round—thankfully with my shirt back on—when I heard voices approaching through the trees. I turned to see Robyn striding toward our meadow, her blonde ponytail swinging as she walked.
“There you are!” she called out cheerfully. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you two.”
My jaw clenched automatically. “We’re training.”
“I can see that,” she said, her attention immediately focusing on Tommy as he emerged from behind a boulder withChickie trotting proudly at his heels. “Tommy, you’re so good with her! You have such a natural way with animals.”
I watched as Robyn stepped closer to Tommy, her hand briefly touching his arm as she praised his technique. The casual contact set my teeth on edge.
“It’s all Foster,” Tommy said, completely missing the way Robyn was looking at him. “He’s an incredible trainer.”
“I’m sure,” she said, but her eyes never left Tommy’s face. “Actually, that’s why I was looking for you. We’re planning the evening campfire program, and I thought you might want to help. You’d be perfect for it.”
“Oh.” Tommy glanced at me, then back at Robyn. “It’s nice of you to ask, but?—”
“It’ll be fun,” Robyn continued, stepping even closer. “We could use someone with your people skills. And your…” She grinned up at him. “Your way of explaining things.”
