Page 4 of Wandering Souls

“I thought Shepherds were supposed to be smart,” he grumbled, watching the dog crunch the treat. The intelligence in the pup’s eyes mocked him.Who’s in charge here?

“Very good.” The instructor’s praise sounded hollow.

Ray glanced to his left and right at his fellow trainees. Apparently, ten-year-old Byron had more control over his animal than Ray did, along with Mavis, a seventy-three-year-old retired hairdresser. She caught Ray’s eye with a wink and a smile.Such a flirt.He winked back and had to stop himself from chuckling at the way her cheeks flamed red.

“We’re going to try a new command.”

Oh crap.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Wells. Bruce will follow you. After all, you have the treats.” Soft laughter rippled through the group.

Ray inclined his head. “Glad I’m of some use to you.”

“One at a time, you’re going to take a few steps away from your dog. Use the commandstaybefore you move away, then take about five steps and use the termcome. Remember to keep your voice firm but gentle.”

Ray looked down at Bruce who tilted his head upward. As an Australian Shepherd, Bruce was made up of three main colors. Primarily blue-gray and white, he had a few patches of black on his coat, though his belly was marbled with all three. Over his left eye was a blob of gray fur while his right ear was painted black. The stark pale blue eyes were always alert. Despite his youth, Bruce missed nothing and right now, he stared up at Ray as if wondering whether to continue making a fool of his owner or play along for once.

Ray reached down and scratched Bruce’s left, white-furred ear. Coming into Ray’s life three months ago, the dog had simultaneously chased away the loneliness and introduced a level of crazy Ray found enchanting—if not exhausting. The breed shared many traits with cattle dogs and border collies, and were useful as working dogs. Ray had high hopes to train Bruce for life on the beat, but it was going to take a lot of work. Curbing this dog’s desire to round up every other animal was akin to harnessing the power of a cyclone.

The instructor started with Mavis, waiting by the little corgi she’d dubbed Queenie. Ever the obedient little pup, Queenie sat patiently with ears twitching this way and that as she watched her owner put distance between them. Mavis made it a good ten steps before the corgi started to show signs of anxiety. Mavis shoutedcomeand Queenie took off at a trot. Stopping, she turned and sat at the heel of her human. Watching the small statured Mavis reward the dog with praise and cuddles gave him hope.

If Mavis could do it...

Young Byron went next, performing an almost identical experiment with his Labrador, DJ. Ray watched everyone carry out the instructions flawlessly, his sense of dread growing with each successful pass. When it came to his turn, he took a deep breath to fortify himself against whatever came next. Everyone knew Bruce would give him a run for his money.

He waited until their instructor joined them, taking Bruce’s lead while Ray turned. “Stay.” He commanded, at which Bruce blinked. He took a step back, then another. The dog stayed still, giving him hope. Two more steps later, Bruce shifted but didn’t stand.

“That’ll do, Ray. Call him.”

“Come.”

The dog trainer dropped Bruce’s leash, but the dog stayed put.

“Come, Bruce.”

Bruce cocked his head to the side, assessing the distance between them. He stood and took a step forward. The screech of a cockatoo nearby caught the pooch’s attention. His head snapped up toward the sky and his ears stood straight. Ray saw the whole debacle unfold before it even happened.

As the trainer lunged for the loose leash, Ray took a step forward. Bruce was too quick for the both of them, turning to the right and taking off at a run. The young dog bolted at a speed Ray knew he’d never match but he had to try. He raced after the dog across the main arena, through the gate and across the dirt track to the perimeter fence.

“Bruce!”

The pup found a break in the fence and squeezed through, disappearing into the forest behind the showgrounds. Birds shrieked and the flock lifted from the trees, squawking raucously as the sound of a dog barking filled the air. Footsteps sounded behind him and a body stopped next to him. The trainer sucked wind and stared over the fence to the stretch of forest that led into one of the five national parks surrounding Wills Crossing.

“Ray, I’m so sorry. I didn’t expect that.”

Ray slapped his shoulder and shook his head. “You and me both. I’m going to go after him.”

“We’ll come.” Mavis joined them. “My Queenie will track down Bruce.”

Ray bit his tongue to stop himself from laughing. It’d be rude to reject the sweet old lady’s offer, but at her age, Mavis might not fare so well in the dense forest.

“Thank you, Mavis, but there’s no need.”

She frowned and set her hands on her trim hips. “Are you suggesting I’m too old, young man?”

He smiled gently, trying to find the right words to placate the determined woman. “I would do no such thing, but you know how thick the bush is. It’s still wet and slippery from the melting snow and I would never forgive myself if you fell looking for my dog.”

“We’ll help, too,” Byron added, motioning down at DJ.

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