her. Sarah’s hopeful tone made him want to say yes, but the redhead, Jen, snorted. “Nobody trains cats. Cats train us.” She was shaking her head as she motioned at Cole to continue walking down the hallway.
You can do this. You’ve worked with all kinds of dogs. Never with an audience like this one, but his pep talk succeeded in soothing some of the ridiculous jitters.
When he’d insisted he talk to the manager, he’d expected to be leaving in handcuffs. Superior Rebecca Lincoln could have called the cops. Touching her was a mistake. He could see her anxiety in her eyes.
That fear burned. Was that how his whole life was going to go? Another good reason to give people a wide berth. He’d get this job, do it well and go home. No need to make friends.
Only one thing could distract him from the doubt and fear of failure—a dog named Freddie who howled as if his heart was breaking the instant Sarah stopped in front of his kennel. He was white and black with a tan face and droopy ears that trembled as he poured out his heart.
“What’s the matter, Freddie?” Cole asked in a deep voice. The dog broke off a building howl and tilted his head curiously, his tail wagging wildly. “You just wanted to say hello, didn’t you?” Cole lifted the latch on the kennel as he braced himself. If he had to guess, Freddie was a jumper.
The slight hesitation to the dog’s exit could be fear. “What’s his story?” He held out his hands for Freddie to sniff.
“His owner died.” Sarah rubbed one of Freddie’s ears between her finger and thumb. “The family played hot potato with Freddie for a few months, but I don’t get the feeling any one of them ever wanted him.” She shrugged. “As soon as I reopened the shelter for adoptions, I had more than I could take, but Freddie was on borrowed time. The guy who brought him in threatened to dump him on the highway.”
Cole heard someone curse under her breath. He glanced over his shoulder at Jen, the one he’d instantly pegged as the hard case in the group. Everyone else had turned to look at Rebecca. The princess cursed? Interesting.
Seeing that he was no longer the center of attention, Freddie picked that second to decide Cole was his new best friend. The dog lunged up, feet and toenails scrabbling on the concrete of the kennel. Cole managed to catch him and ease him to the floor. “Easy, boy. Things are going to get better.”
Freddie immediately started a frenzied race around the room, baying at the top of his lungs. All the dogs in the other kennels answered until it was impossible to imagine a nice calm world with silent dogs in it. When he’d inspected the entire room, Freddie hopped up and down against Cole’s leg until Cole picked him up to cradle him in his arms. There, Freddie grinned, a long pink tongue lolling out of his mouth while Cole pressed his chin against the beagle’s head.
All day. I could do this all day.
Cole shook his head as he scratched Freddie’s bright white chest. Then he realized the whole room had gotten quiet. Losing track of what was going on while he was working with a dog wasn’t that unusual. Looking up to see Sarah and Jen blinking misty eyes at him was a once-in-a-lifetime thing.
And terrifying. He’d learned to live without emotion. Seeing it on their faces and feeling it swirl in the atmosphere made him uneasy. Restless.
“He’s okay. I’ve got him.” Cole bent to put Freddie carefully down. “We should let him run around outside for a few minutes. Should help him concentrate.” Maybe they’d stay inside. The women. That would be good.
“Have some treats,” Sarah said as she reached in a tin on the shelf beside the door and handed Cole a few, bracing her feet to keep from being knocked backward into the doorframe by Freddie’s enthusiasm.
Beagles were known for their appetites. Freddie might have also faced some neglect. Attention and food would work wonders for this dog.
Sarah pulled open a door and stepped away. Freddie didn’t move. His eyes were locked on the treats in Cole’s hand. “Outside.” Cole laughed as intelligent brown eyes darted to meet his. No way, man. That’s what the dog’s expression said. He was staying as close to the treats as he could.
With no other option but to lead the parade outside, Cole stepped out into the hot sunshine. Later in the day would be better for training, but this was his shot.
Freddie drifted a few steps away, drawn by all the new smells. Cole eased down on a picnic table and tried to ignore the eyes locked on his every move.
Pretend this is easy.
He crossed one foot over the other and winced at the tight pull of his shirt across his shoulders.
“Freddie.” He whistled and waved a single dog biscuit in the air.
The picnic table kept him from being knocked over as Freddie launched forty pounds of muscle into the air. Cole caught him and set him down in the grass, one hand on the dog’s back, right above his tail. Freddie eased to an awkward, hovering sit. “Good boy. You know your name.” And your favorite dog treat.
He gave Freddie the treat and eased back, a signal to the dog to go on with his business. “I didn’t have a chance to complete an application but...” Cole lost his train of thought when he noticed Jen and Sarah were both staring at him with hands clasped in front of them. Rebecca was sniffing, her lips a tight line. What did that mean? Was it a good sign or a bad one? “I had some training in landscape maintenance and design. I could help with that.” He motioned at the second play yard, a wild mess of weeds that would need to be cleared before it could be used. “And out front, too.” The sign was new, but everything else about the front of the shelter suggested the shelter director had bigger things on her mind than the flower beds. “If I get the job.” That might sweeten his deal.
Sarah smiled brightly at Jen. Once they high-fived each other, he started to feel better about his chances of landing the probationary period. He repeated the same process with Freddie four more times, adding a “Sit” to each treat.
He had one last biscuit in his hand. This was it, his shot to show them he could work patiently with dogs like Freddie.
“You try it.” He waved at Rebecca. “Let’s see how he responds.” Why her? He wasn’t sure. If he had to come up with a reason, he’d say it was because Sarah and Jen clearly had experience with dogs, and he wanted to show that his training could work for someone who didn’t. Mainly, he wanted to see what she would do. Everything about Rebecca was sunny, like her whole life went according to plan. A dog would shake that up. They were messy and she was clearly into neat.
Rebecca wiped both hands down her white shorts. “Freddie.” She called him with a firm voice and then whistled like Cole.
He knew his eyebrows rose, but he was pretty surprised at the impressive whistle.
So was Freddie. The dog trotted up, spared Cole one glance and then stopped in front of Rebecca.
“Sit, Freddie.” When the beagle carefully folded his legs and sat, they all cheered. Freddie’s total time obeying the command had to be less than two seconds, but he was entitled to join in the party. Rebecca was still cheering when she dropped down in the grass and caught Freddie before he could lick her face.
She was giggling, her hair a curly halo blowing in the weak breeze, when she glanced up to catch Cole’s eye. “I’m not sure he’s cured, but you’ve made a good start, professor.”
Was she teasing him? Cole’s lips twitched in response, but answering her smile with his would be a mistake. She didn’t trust him. That was for the best.
Watching her smile fade as she realized who she was talking to confirmed his own mistrust.
Anxious to get the answer he wanted, Cole rolled his shoulders and heard the whisper of another seam. The shirt he’d found in his closet had been too big at eighteen, a thrift-store find his grandmother had bought for his graduation. He fit the shirt now like he fit his old life in Holly Heights.
“I say yes.” Sarah bent to run a hand