Her Valentine Sheriff. Deb Kastner

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      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 attention to pretty green eyes. “Please come in.”

      Easier said than done, since the door was crowded with canines of various shapes, colors and sizes. He eyed the doorway but didn’t move.

      Mary merely laughed. “Or maybe I should have said, ‘Welcome to the chaos.’”

      * * *

      Mary could see that Eli looked uncomfortable, probably something to do with the chaos she’d just mentioned. She pulled on the collar of her large black Lab, Sebastian, urging him out of the way. She used the other hand to point behind her, commanding the rest of the dogs surrounding her to move backward. In hindsight, she realized she should have penned them all in the den before Eli had arrived, but she hadn’t thought about it. She was used to dogs milling around her and getting under her feet, but most people—Eli included, if the expression on his face was anything to go by—weren’t accustomed to it.

      He looked miserable, as if he would rather be anywhere but here—not that she could blame him for feeling that way. And that, she was certain, had nothing whatsoever to do with the dogs. Her chest tightened, and raw emotion scratched at her throat.

      Great. So now she was about ready to burst into tears.

      Real professional, Mary. Get a grip on it.

      She straightened her glasses again and with them her spine, determined to do whatever must be done.

      If it was anyone except Eli—but it was Eli. And this was a part of the process neither one of them could avoid. Since the moment she’d heard that Captain James had selected Eli for the K-9 unit, she’d been concerned about their working together. Eli had every reason for wanting to avoid being around her, and there was nothing she could do to make it easier for him.

      Or her, for that matter.

      And Eli was still standing on her front porch.

      “Get back, Horace,” she ordered, gently pushing a fluffy husky’s hindquarters for emphasis. “Francis—off you go,” she said to a Boston terrier with three legs. “And you, Sebastian,” she said to the Labrador retriever whose collar she still held. “Back to the den. Shoo!”

      Eli’s striking blue eyes widened and his jaw went slack when the animals obeyed.

      “What?” she asked hesitantly.

      “I can’t believe all those dogs did what you wanted them to do. It was almost as if they understood what you were saying to them.”

      Astonished and not a little bit perplexed, Mary shook her head. Hadn’t Eli ever been around a dog before? Serendipity was a ranching community. Nearly every family in town had at least one working dog, a collie or a shepherd to help herd their stock. But Eli’s amazement appeared to be genuine.

      “Of course they did what they were told. They recognize the tone of my voice, if not the words. Dogs are smart animals. Even if they didn’t exactly comprehend what I was telling them, they understand my hand gestures and body language. Weren’t you around any dogs growing up?”

      He stiffened and shifted his gaze away from her. “Nope.”

      She waited for him to elaborate. He didn’t.

      “Cat person?”

      “Not so much.”

      “I see.” She didn’t. But what was she supposed to say? “Then this will be a new experience for you.”

      “Yep.”

      Enough with the clipped answers, already. She was sufficiently nervous to begin with, even without having to carry both ends of the conversation. Was this what it would be like to work with him over the next few weeks? Curt, almost brusque responses to every question she had for him?

      His attitude confused her. She knew Eli to be friendly and kind, and right now he wasn’t either. She took a deep breath and fervently prayed for guidance. And patience. It was apparent she was going to need healthy doses of both to get through the rest of this day. She stepped sideways, holding the screen door for Eli so he could maneuver around her and into the house.

      He dragged his fingers through his thick black hair and eyed the doorway but didn’t move to enter.

      “Let’s try this again, shall we?” she prompted. “Please, come in.”

      Eli stepped gingerly into the house and halted suddenly, raising his arms to shoulder level as a tan-colored whirlwind jumped out from behind the door, yipping up a storm, turning in tight circles and sniffing at Eli’s ankles. The little apple-headed Chihuahua couldn’t have been more than seven or eight pounds, but he was full of spit and vinegar, and she supposed he could appear a little startling to guests.

      Once again Mary chided herself for not locking up the dogs before Eli arrived. His disdain for, or at the very least discomfort with, this whole situation was evident in every step he took and his closed expression. She watched helplessly as Eli braced himself, his shoulders squaring as he pressed his lips into a straight, firm line.

      Mary reacted instinctively against the wave of anxiety and embarrassment that washed over her, hastily scooping the dog into her arm. She was angry at Natalie all over again for putting her in this position. Here within her own home, Mary stood, awkward and uncomfortable, when she should be completely in her element. Here with the dogs she fostered and trained, and her newly created Rapport Kennel. Here with Eli, a man she’d known since her youth and greatly admired.

      No, it was not fair, and it was not right.

      But thanks to Natalie, the situation was at best uncomfortable and at worst impossible. Not knowing what else to do, she held up the Chihuahua for Eli’s inspection. “Behave yourself, young man.”

      Eli lifted a questioning brow.

      Mary offered a confused smile and then burst into gentle laughter. “I was speaking to the Chihuahua,” she clarified. “This little guy is Goliath. His bark is worse than his bite. It might sound like he’s growling, but in truth he’s just talking to you.”

      “Good to know. Snarls aren’t a warning—they’re a welcome.” He tentatively reached a hand forward so Goliath could sniff his fingers. “On someone’s planet, anyway,” he rumbled under his breath. Mary thought he was speaking more to himself than to her, but she answered him anyway, choosing to make light of the comment, and not take it as an insult to her and her profession.

      “Yep, that’s my planet, all right.” Mary was aiming toward cheerful, although she was fairly certain she’d missed the mark by a wide distance. “My world, filled with dogs of every size, shape and form.”

      The left side of Eli’s jaw twitched. “Sounds like paradise.”

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