Page 48 of Puppy Kisses

He felt a growing sense of discomfort. “Wait. I never said—”

“I wrested her from death’s door only to put her in the care of a man who’s determined to make her earn her keep. I mean,Iwanted to take her home to be loved and coddled, but—”

“Dawn, that’s not what I meant!”

She laughed and pressed a kiss on his cheek. It was just like her to do that—to repay his outburst with affection, to playfully defuse the situation—but that only served to make him feel worse.

“I know what you meant, Adam, and it just so happens to be what I like best about you. You take good care of your animals. Your people, too.”

His sense of discomfort only mounted. Hedidn’ttake very good care of his animals, obviously. Dawn had known at the outset that Gigi would struggle with things like harnesses and restraints, but he hadn’t listened.

And his people, well, just look at what a bungle he’d made of that. He’d forgotten about Zeke’s race—hadn’t even gotten up early to help with the ranch chores so Zeke could enjoy his big day. If his brother lacked the energy to win, it would be Adam’s fault for failing to see to the irrigation system himself.

“I’ll just put Gigi on a loose leash,” Dawn said. “That’ll get her used to being tied up without feeling like she’s under some kind of punishment. Why don’t you tell Uncle where you want to go?”

“He knows how to find the spectator stands?”

“Well, no. But he should know how to find someone who can tell you how to find the spectator stands.” Dawn paused. “Ask him to find ‘help.’ He knows what that means.”

Adam felt a little foolish speaking to his dog in plain English, but only because he wasn’t used to having an audience. He talked to the cows all the time—even sang them songs when they were feeling nervous—but it wasn’t the same. “Okay, Uncle. Find us some help. We have a race to watch.”

It worked. With the competence he was coming to expect from the Great Dane, Uncle started moving away from the car. Adam had ridden enough horses in his lifetime to feel comfortable being attached to an animal—and in trusting one. If Gigi had been doing the leading, he might have been wary of cars backing into their parking spots or divots in the dirt under his feet, but Uncle knew what he was doing. He walked along, keeping pace with Adam, refusing to be sidetracked by the sounds and smells of hundreds of people gathering for an event.

“Wait—why’s he stopping?” Adam asked as Uncle’s movements started to slow.

“We’re coming up on a nice family lifting a cooler out of the back of their car,” Dawn said. “He wants you to stop and ask them for directions.”

“Oh. That’s smart. Can he tell the difference between nice families and serial killers?”

Dawn gave a gurgle of laughter. “You know, I didn’t think to include that in his training. Would you like me to work it in tomorrow?”

“Nah. I’d rather you train him to recognize attractive young women. Preferably single ones.”

A playful pinch sent a jolt down his arm. “If that’s what you want, then you’re much better off with me. I could give you the names and numbers of six potential candidates right now. I’m an excellent wingman.”

He didn’t doubt it. Dawn probably knew hordes of young, attractive, single women—and would, if he so desired, set him up with any number of them. And she’d do it all without a single glimmer of jealousy.

In order to be jealous, she’d have to care about him—aboutthem—first.

“Excuse me,” he said as Uncle came to a complete stop. “Could you tell me how to get to the spectator stands?”

“Puppies!” A loud squeal drowned out any response the nice family might have made to his request. “Mama, look—two puppies!”

“Oh, um.” Adam cleared his throat. He knew, from what Dawn had told him during the first week of their training, that it was important to be firm with people when he was out with his service animals. No matter how much he might want to let squealing children pet Uncle and Gigi, they had to learn to ignore anything but the task at hand. “I’m sorry, but—”

“How clever you are,” Dawn said, her voice somewhere near the region of his feet. He assumed she was either squatting at the child’s level or at the animals’. Probably both, considering how much squirming Gigi seemed to be doing. “Theyarepuppies. Most people take one look at this big guy and assume he’s like a hundred years old. But he’s only seven months.”

The girl giggled. “He’s hugemongous.”

“That’s true—and he’ll get even bigger as he grows up. When he stands on his hind legs, he’ll be as tall as your dad.”

“Gracie, honey, you can’t pet those dogs.” A woman’s voice, brisk but friendly, was followed by the slam of the car’s trunk. “They’re service animals. That’s right, isn’t it?”

“I’m afraid so,” Adam apologized. “And we’re training them to recognize when I need directions. Are the stands near here?”

“Sure thing, hon. What you’re going to want to do is head about ten feet to your right…” The woman continued with her directions. Adam knew he was supposed to be listening, and that the woman’s clipped recital of the easiest route to the stands was better than most people were able to provide, but Dawn and the little girl were distracting him with their continued discussion of the puppies.

“That small one doesn’t look very good at his job.”