Her Valentine Sheriff. Deb Kastner

effort.

      “What’s wrong?” she queried when he hovered next to her, an expectant look in his eyes. “Has Bullet worn you out already?”

      She realized as soon as the words left her lips that she’d said the wrong thing.

      Again.

      The brief hint of diversion and elation in his eyes disappeared as his lips curled downward and his brows lowered.

      “Don’t you think we should stop goofing around and get back to work?” His voice grated on her last nerve.

      She felt as if he were judging her, accusing her of wasting his time. Like he knew better than she did what they ought to be doing as part of their training. And right when she’d thought they were starting to make a little bit of progress. The man ran as hot and cold as a faucet. Any semblance of composure she’d regained watching him play with Bullet cracked like a baseball through a glass window.

      She knew exactly what she was doing, and she wasn’t wasting time, despite what Eli might have to say on the matter. She forced a chuckle she didn’t feel and met his gaze in an undeniable challenge. “That was work.”

      “Come again?”

      “I said—” she began, but he cut her off midsentence.

      “I know you’re trying to take it easy on me with all of this playing with the dog stuff. You don’t need to do that. Don’t water it down for me. I’m ready to give those Dutch commands another go.”

      Water it down for him? So much for a teachable moment. At least the dog didn’t interrupt when she spoke—or question her every instruction.

      “I see.” She stared at him, taking his measure. Something wasn’t adding up. She sent up a silent prayer for guidance, wishing she could put her finger on what that something was.

      “What?” he asked, sounding mildly annoyed. He shifted his weight onto the balls of his feet, as if he was getting ready to pounce.

      Mary noted the movement and shook her head. “I think we’ve done enough obedience training for one day. There’s a lot more for you to learn. I have something else in mind for you right now.”

      Eli groaned. “Don’t tell me there’s paperwork.” He shook his head. “No, don’t answer that. Of course there’s paperwork. I’m a cop, and I’m still on the clock.”

      “No paperwork. Not today, anyway.”

      “Whew. Glad to hear it. Paperwork is the least favorite part of my job. I like to be up and active.” He stretched side to side as if getting ready for a run.

      “Then this next activity will be perfect for you.”

      “Yeah? What am I doing?”

      “You, plural,” she reminded him. “You’re a unit now. I assure you there will be plenty of movement involved—for both of you. I want you to run through a confidence course.”

      Chapter Three

      A confidence course?

      What was that supposed to mean? It felt like a personal dig, right into his rib cage. Was his lack of assurance so obvious that she felt the need to fix it? Was he wearing a flag on his back?

      Great. It was only day one of training, and he was already failing miserably at his new assignment. She’d already figured him out, even if she was too kind to admit as much. How was he going to prove himself to her after this, never mind the whole department? Indignity chewed at his gut.

      “What’s a confidence course?” He squared his shoulders and lowered his eyebrows, blockading his emotions behind steel doors in the furthest recesses of his heart. All he could do now was redouble his efforts to appear impervious to his circumstances and completely at ease with his dog.

      “Loosen up,” she murmured, her voice rich and reassuring.

      As if he could relax.

      Another emotional jab, this time a direct uppercut to the jaw. She certainly had his number.

      “Nothing to get stressed about. I just want you to run Bullet through some of these obstacles here.” She gestured toward the agility stations positioned across the lawn. “We won’t do all of them. Just enough for you to get your feet wet.”

      “Right. Then it’s an obstacle course.” Many of the hurdles looked like the ones he’d faced when he was at the police academy. He’d excelled there, first in his class. Physically and mentally, he’d conquered the course and bested his fellow officers with ease. It had seemed so simple back then. All he had to do was let his aggressive nature take over, and he’d blown the competition away.

      He wasn’t so sure he was going to do as well on this one. He could only speak for himself and not for his barking teammate. And he wasn’t the least interested in unleashing Bullet’s aggressive nature.

      No, thank you.

      That, he supposed, was the crux of the problem. He was used to fending for himself. Now he’d been thrown into a situation where he had to work as a team. It didn’t help that his partner was an uncompromising canine.

      “Let’s not call it an obstacle course,” Mary suggested, stroking her finger down the perfect little dimple in her chin. “I don’t want you to think of the stations that way. Bullet will sense it, if you tense up, so I want you to let loose and have fun with it.”

      “Have fun with it,” he repeated blandly. Yeah, like that was going to happen anytime soon.

      “I prefer to think of the stations as challenges. It’s mostly a team-building exercise, if you will, as you learn to navigate the course together. You’re the unit leader, so it’s up to you to set the pace. Snap the lead on to his collar and let’s get started,” she continued, handing him a six-foot leather leash.

      “Which one do you want me to do first?” He attached the lead, gaining Bullet’s immediate attention. Now would be a good time for him to prove himself. He only wished he felt more certain of his success.

      “Let’s go with the low hurdle right there. Set yourself at an easy jog and—”

      Eli didn’t let her finish. He bolted into motion with Bullet at his heel. When he reached the hurdle, he leaped over it with ease, expecting the dog to follow. Instead, Bullet sidestepped and ran around the jump, then turned in a circle around Eli, twisting him into a knot with the leash.

      Making him look like an utter fool. Thank you, muttinski.

      Thoroughly exasperated, he spun around on his heels, trying to extricate himself from the six feet of leather cord. It was all he could do to stay upright, and the last thing he needed was to face-plant himself in the dirt right in front of Mary. He imagined she was probably laughing at him already.

      “You almost had it right,” she said, reaching down to untangle the leash from Eli’s ankles. She didn’t appear to have found his distress amusing. He wanted to hug her. “There was only one minor detail you might want to work on.”

      “Only one?” Eli snorted. He’d already made enough mistakes to fill an entire stack of Mary’s clipboards. “And that would be?”

      “Well,” Mary said, pursing her lips and then breaking into a smile. “Theoretically Bullet is the one who is supposed to navigate the hurdle. You’re there for moral support. It was a nice jump, though. I’d give you a nine out of ten for technique.”

      He ought to be—expected to be—embarrassed at her teasing and laughter, but, for some unknown reason, she had put him at ease. Maybe it was the kindness in her eyes or the sweetness of her smile, but even though there was no doubt she was poking fun at him, he didn’t feel like she was mocking him. Instead, he was pleasantly surprised to realize she was having fun with him, making light and joy of what would otherwise have been painfully awkward.

      After being utterly humiliated