fisted his clammy palms tightly against his sides.
He couldn’t let a stupid phobia wreck an opportunity for promotion. He had always been competitive and ambitious, whether it was playing football in high school or being first in his class at the police academy. With his personal life recently taking a serious nosedive, he was at the point where there was nothing he wanted quite so much as the opportunity to prove his mettle to the department. His career was all he had left, and he was game for almost anything, except—
Please, Lord. Not this.
Eli forced himself to remain motionless, his gaze steady but empty. Over the years he’d perfected the art of not showing what he was thinking. It had held him in good stead, until now. He wasn’t sure he could mask these emotions.
“Bishop, you’ll be pleased to hear that the honor is yours.”
Eli tried to steady his breathing, but his throat closed around the air.
Pleased? This wasn’t an honor. It was a horror. His own personal nightmare. He clenched his jaw in a vain attempt to control the tremor that ran through him.
He could handle bad guys. Knives. Guns. Whatever else was thrown at him, no matter how frightening. Even a broken engagement, as awful as that had been.
But dogs? That was another thing entirely.
Eli cleared his throat. “Sir, may I respectfully suggest—”
Captain James abruptly sliced the air with a clipped movement of his hand and shut Eli down midsentence.
“Perhaps I haven’t made myself clear.”
The captain’s voice was in command mode, and Eli knew he’d already lost the battle. Probably even the war.
“This is a direct order. I have taken the liberty of vetting you for this training through the national organization I mentioned. Everything has been approved and arranged. Mary Travis is expecting you at her house at promptly fourteen hundred hours today to start working with your new partner. She’s training the K-9 herself, and she’s graciously agreed to help you adjust to your new role as handler.”
Eli stifled a groan as the bad news kept piling on. He knew it would take more than a little adjusting for him to be able to work with a dog, especially an aggressive one. A K-9 would no doubt fall into that category. He definitely needed to bring his A game, if he wasn’t going to come out looking like an idiot.
What was worse—far worse—was that Mary Travis probably already thought he was a moron with a capital M. After all, it was her sister, Natalie, who’d left Eli high and dry one week before their wedding. No explanation. No hint of what was to come, or that anything had even been wrong with their relationship.
Clearly something had been. He still didn’t know what.
Mary probably knew more than he did—which was exactly why he didn’t want to work with her.
He nearly choked on his own breath as tidal waves of humiliation washed over him. He would rather have been paired up with practically anyone else in town—anyone who hadn’t had a front-row seat to the way Natalie had ditched and disgraced him. He was certain his ego would never be able to withstand the hit were Mary to discover he couldn’t even handle himself around a dog.
“Sir, Mary’s work as a large-animal vet has her in high demand,” he pointed out. “I’m sure she’s already overbooked as it is. Are you certain she is going to have time to—?”
“Ms. Travis,” the captain barked, cutting Eli off midsentence, “is already on board for this project. Her assistant is taking over her veterinary practice, so she can focus on her training kennel full-time. She has certification in search and rescue, and is branching out to include training small-town police K-9 units. Her expertise in this project will be invaluable, and you will follow her instructions. Do we understand each other?”
Captain James stopped and faced Eli, nose to nose, with their gazes locked in unspoken combat. The sharp smell of wintergreen gum tickled Eli’s nostrils. He bit the inside of his bottom lip, knowing that sneezing would definitely not be the response the captain was looking for. There was nothing to say that would change the decision, so despite the fact that his pulse was working overtime and his mind was screaming to the contrary, Eli remained silent.
The captain jerked his chin affirmatively and flashed Eli a satisfied smile. “Bishop, we’ll talk promotion and benefits later. Company dismissed for lunch.” Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked away.
The squad visibly relaxed, all except for Eli, who remained stiff at attention for several more seconds. He couldn’t seem to break the hold the captain’s words had on him. Red-hot electricity bolted down his spine, setting every nerve ending aflame. Adrenaline roared through him, and his fight-or-flight instinct burned in his veins the same way it did when he was in pursuit of a suspect.
Only this was worse, because he wanted to flee.
He had to cool off and get his head on straight, if he was going to face the afternoon class with any form of dignity intact. Thankfully, after lunch and some paperwork, he had time for a quick ride on his motorcycle. His bike was his refuge—especially with the mild January wind in his hair and the freedom of the road with no one else around for miles. He did his best thinking and praying on the open stretches of land around the small town he called home.
Soon he was heading southbound on the road out of Serendipity, the reassuring purr of the motorcycle engine underneath him. He had a little less than an hour to wrap his mind around his new responsibilities before he had to present himself at Mary Travis’s place, hopefully with a clear head and the fortitude he’d need to complete the task at hand. He revved the engine and sped down the highway, keenly aware that he was exceeding the posted limit. He was a cop, and he should know better, but there wasn’t a car on the road for miles. It was a token protest against circumstances entirely beyond his control.
After about twenty minutes, Eli turned his bike back toward Serendipity, slowing his speed to match his own reticence, even as he reminded himself that there was no sense putting off the inevitable. Surely God had His reasons for this trial. It came with a promotion, for one thing. And maybe, just maybe, it would take the heat off of Eli’s personal life.
A tough guy with a dangerous dog. Who could beat that?
Maybe he’d no longer be known as the sap who’d been ditched almost at the altar. There had to be an upside, right?
He just hoped Mary Travis wouldn’t be able to see through the thin veneer of courage he’d worked up during his ride.
He pulled his bike in front of Mary’s light blue ranch-style house and removed his helmet, sweeping the sunglasses from his eyes. Mary’s home stood on a fairly sizable plot of land—not enough for ranching or farming, but plenty of room for her kennels. He could already hear high, piercing yips and low, throaty barks coming from the vicinity of her front door, and his stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch that he sternly refused to call fear.
He paused for a moment outside the front door, swallowing hard and mindfully unclenching his fists. He’d forgotten to ask Captain James how long he anticipated this procedure would take.
One week, maybe?
Two?
Hopefully he could get in and get out without much time and hassle. Accomplish his objective and move on.
Eli combed his fingers through his hair, slid his palm across his scratchy jaw and straightened his shoulders, unwilling to yield to the tightness in his chest. He knocked firmly, knowing he’d have to be heard over the raucous cacophony of wildly barking dogs.
Mary surprised him by answering right away, almost as if she’d been waiting for him. Maybe she had been, since they had an appointment scheduled. Hopefully she hadn’t been watching him struggle from behind her front curtain. He shifted uncomfortably.
“Eli,” she greeted with a warm but somewhat reserved smile. She straightened her black-rimmed glasses, calling