own home—and that person was very likely Carrie Dunleavy. Why, was a question no one had an answer to. “I hope she recovers from her head injury, for her sake and for poor Ellen’s.” Sophie knew that Ellen Foxcroft, one of the rookies, hadn’t been very close to her mother before the attack. Everyone was pulling for Marian. Sophie decided to change the subject. “It’s nice to be able to have all the rookies’ partners around for a little longer, too.”
“Right. The dogs, too.” He cast a quick glance over his shoulder. “Well, all except for one. What possessed you to send for—Phoenix, is it?”
“Yes. Phoenix. We have him on a trial basis, just in case he doesn’t work out, but I think you’re going to be surprised. Besides, he was a bargain.”
Ryder arched his brows. “I don’t doubt that.”
“Hey, don’t criticize him before you give him a chance. At one time, this dog was very good. He can be again.”
“What happened to him?”
Taking a deep, calming breath Sophie explained. “He lost his partner in the line of duty. They were ambushed in an alley. Even though he was wounded, too, Phoenix stood guard over his fallen partner until reinforcements arrived.”
“And after that he stayed scared?”
“Not exactly. Several other officers tried to work with him. When that failed, he was sent to rehab training in the southern part of the state, then reassigned, but he was too emotionally fragile to be of much use.”
“You think you can cure him?”
“I think I understand him. That’s a start.” She hesitated. “Been there, done that.”
Ryder was shaking his head. “So, you expect to convince a dog that the death of his handler was inevitable because that’s what you’ve been telling yourself about the loss of your own partner, back when you wore a badge?”
Wondering if she would be able to sound logical, Sophie paused to gather herself. Her mouth was dry, her palms damp. She knew full well that her narrow focus on the criminal she and her former partner, Wes Allen, had been pursuing was what had cost him his life. Acting as his backup, she’d failed to notice a hidden gunman—until it was too late. Wes had died on the spot and it was her fault. She’d left the force shortly thereafter.
Sophie suppressed another shiver. Here in Desert Valley she had colleagues who would probably understand. One of them was sitting next to her. Confiding the full extent of her lingering guilt and pain, however, was out of the question.
“That all happened long ago,” she said. “I’ve found my niche training dogs for law enforcement.”
“It’s still excess baggage. We all carry plenty.”
She could tell by the faraway look in his blue eyes that he was remembering his wife, the mother of his little girl. At least he still had Lily to give him solace. Sophie had nothing left but her work.
Pressing her lips together tightly she considered her personal life. Her best friends were dogs—and that was just the way she wanted it. People had hurt and disappointed her as far back as she could remember. Listening to her parents quarreling, she had often hidden in her room, hugging the family dog and trusting him to keep her safe. Law enforcement had seemed the perfect career choice at the outset but she had quickly realized she was not equipped to accept loss, particularly the death of her own partner. In turning to K-9 training she had, in a way, gone back to the solace she’d found as a frightened child. Not that she was about to admit it.
“I’ve recovered from my past,” Sophie finally said. “You will, too. Just give it time.”
Ryder was shaking his head. “No. I don’t ever want to forget.”
A sense of melancholy enfolded her. She had never come close to finding the kind of love and devotion this man held for his late wife, nor did she ever hope to. A lifelong commitment was the kind of thing dreams were made of and she knew better than to entertain such fancies.
She had her job, her dogs and a career many people coveted. Heartfelt prayer had led her to Desert Valley and circumstances were keeping her here. That was enough. It would have to be.
A sidelong glance at Ryder convinced her further. He needed her help and that of the dog she was preparing for him. Call it a job or a ministry or whatever, it was why she was where she was at this moment in time. She would not waste the opportunity.
While it was wrong to think of hugging away his pain, it was right to support his rise in rank. Merely the fact that he had been promoted to police chief while still technically a K-9 cop was a wonder. Keeping him active and qualified with a dog for as long as he wished to be was up to her.
She closed her eyes for a moment and thought. Father, thank You. Please stay with me.
“You okay?” Ryder asked.
“Fine.” Her voice had a catch in it the first time so she repeated, “Fine.”
“Do you want me to drop you back at the training center or take you home?”
“Home, please,” Sophie said. “I want Phoenix to get used to living with his handler again. We may as well start right away.”
“You won’t take any unnecessary chances? Promise?”
“Cross my heart.” She made the motion.
“Okay. I’ll go in ahead of you and check your house.”
Her “No,” came easily.
“No?”
Sophie was nodding. “Thanks, but no thanks. That won’t be necessary. If there’s anything wrong at my place the dog will alert.”
“How? By ducking and shaking the way he did at the depot?” The chief sounded cynical.
Reminded of the shooting incident and the way her own hands had trembled in its aftermath, Sophie covered her emotions by shrugging and saying, “Whatever.”
To herself, she added, That will make two of us feeling fearful. All her previous efforts to escape the rigors and threats of active law enforcement had been rendered ineffectual the moment those shots had been fired. If she had not been going home with a dog, traumatized or not, she might have welcomed human intervention.
Ryder was adamant. “Look. Until we know whether or not the attack on you was random, I’m going to pull rank. I’m inspecting your house when we get there. Is that understood?”
Sophie was so relieved she nearly sighed aloud. Instead, she purposely pouted, scooted lower in the seat and folded her arms, making sure her courageous image remained unspoiled. “Yeah, I get it.”
In truth, she was thankful. The house she’d been renting for several years sat on a double lot on East Second Street and backed up to undeveloped land, a quiet location that had seemed ideal until she’d started feeling vulnerable.
Right now, she’d have gladly settled for high stone walls instead of wire fencing, and maybe a turret with an armed guard or two, preferably one like Ryder Hayes.
If he turned up anybody hiding in her house, waiting to hurt her, she didn’t know what she’d do. But she was pretty sure she knew what Ryder would do—whatever it took to see that she was taken care of.
Ryder had figured Sophie’s objections to his entering her home had been based on its messy condition. One look had immediately changed his mind. She was a good housekeeper. The dishes were washed, the bed made, and a vacuum cleaner stood sentinel in a corner of the living room. There were slipcovers on her padded furniture and an extra throw on the sofa. He could understand that when a person kept bringing new dogs home.
Satisfied that she’d be fine, he divided the remainder of