Chapter Six
After a night spent cozy in her bed, Delilah found herself humming as she headed to the barn for the day’s session. There was something about this ranch that had worked itself into her soul. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but she could definitely name this feeling—happiness.
Today she planned to start with Will Turner.
Though she’d kind of led Zero to believe it would be a lot harder to train the other dogs after the sweet Elizabeth Swann, she didn’t actually think it would take long at all to get Will Turner on the right side of obedient.
Once she did that, the Captains would be a snap, since they were already a two-for-one.
The German Shepherd eyed her warily as she herded him from his stall. He hadn’t liked the idea of being shut up overnight, but after she’d bribed him with treats, he hadn’t given her a lot of grief. Though part of her had wondered if he’d still be in there this morning.
“Good morning, Mr. Turner,” she murmured. “Thank you kindly for humoring me with the whole stall idea. You and I both know you could leap over the door with half an ounce of effort.”
Why he’d chosen to do as she’d commanded him, she hadn’t figured out yet.
This dog lived to make his humans miserable, as best she could tell.
There was a slight possibility it amused him and a definite possibility he knew stealing pastries and wrestling with the Captains annoyed the hands that fed him.
Will Turner stuck his tongue out and pierced her with his knowing doggy gaze.
“Yeah, yeah, here’s your bonus treat.” She rolled her eyes. “You’re too easy if that’s all you expect for sticking to your new home until morning.”
The dog gulped down his treat and rewarded her by lifting his paw up in the air to shake. Will wonders never cease? The dogs could train themselves. Delilah raised her brows and complied with a perfunctory pump.
“Well, well. Someone was watching the session yesterday. Trying to show up Elizabeth Swann, are we?”
She threw him two treats for that, impressed to the nth degree he’d not only learned the trick on the sly but also performed it for her. This dog wanted her approval for some reason.
He’d earned it, no doubt.
Within two hours, Will Turner had indulged her with his mastery of sit, stay, heel, walking on a leash, and then had started training her by insisting that rolling over did in fact deserve a treat. She had to laugh the third time he showed his belly and woofed at her.
“You’re just a big show-off,” she told him and emptied the bag into his mouth because he’d just made her job a heck of a lot easier.
It was the second day, and she had Elizabeth Swann and Will Turner eating out of her hand. Literally. The rest of their progress? She’d love to say she was just that good of a dog trainer, but even she couldn’t sell that to herself. Someone had worked with these dogs before. Zero’s grandpa?
Likely. But it wasn’t like she could ask, not unless she wished to clue in her boss that he might possibly be paying her for something completely unnecessary.
Granted, she hadn’t started with the Captains yet, and they might prove to be pretty difficult, but there was no doubt in her mind if Zero knew the dogs weren’t quite the handful he’d envisioned, she’d be out the door with no loan and nowhere to go.
No, she’d be keeping the dogs’ advancement to herself, thanks.
Since she’d willfully given Will Turner the last of her treats, she needed to make a quick run to town and maybe scare up some lunch.
She blinked at the bright light as she exited the big red barn into the bare side yard that needed a few pecking chickens to complete the picture.
The sun stood high overhead, making it close to noon if she had to guess, a requirement since she didn’t own a watch.
Zero waltzed into view, poetry in motion as his boots rolled across the scrabbly dirt.
He wiped a hand across his forehead, muscles in his forearms bunching deliciously with the effort.
That painting would be done with a plain background, nothing to detract from the subject.
She’d call it Yum, and not one woman on the planet would question why.
When he caught sight of her, he slowed down, the corners of his mouth turning up ever so slightly. What was this? It was almost a smile, the first of which she could recall him voluntarily granting her with.
It made her greedy for more.
“I enjoyed dinner last night,” she told him, hoping it didn’t sound like as lame of an excuse to speak to him as it did to her.
But she’d been thinking about him all day, and these precious few seconds she’d been granted in his presence presented an opportunity she couldn’t pass up.
Though she had to admit, Zero’s personality confused her. Sometimes he seemed almost accessible, readily engaged in the conversation, but the next? Like talking to a brick wall. A long-suffering one at that, who had little time for mere mortals just doing the best they could.
A puzzle of a man, for sure.
Especially since she still didn’t get the draw between them. What was it about him? The man was short-tempered, crabby, and had never given her one iota of encouragement… and maybe she’d just answered her own question. She’d never been able to resist a challenge.
“It was just spaghetti,” he countered, his tone as gruff as always.
But after working so closely with him in the kitchen the night before, she’d learned a few things about him, and this was his “you’ve struck a nerve” voice. Interesting. What had she unwittingly poked at? His culinary skills?
“Spaghetti you made for your family. And I was included. That made it special in my book,” she said. “I’ve never had a family dinner, not that I remember anyway. So I appreciated every bit of it.”
His expression softened. Transfixed, she watched as his gaze opened up, revealing a brief flash of something she wanted to understand a whole lot better.
“I guess that’s my lesson to stop taking things for granted,” he murmured.
“Not like I was accusing you of that,” she said with a self-conscious laugh. “Just saying, you know, not all of us are used to that kind of thing.”
“We do it every night. You’re always welcome.”
How about that? The simplicity of the sentiment warmed her, though she tried not to read too much into it, especially since this wasn’t the first time he’d mentioned the standing invitation. But that was before. This was now, and she wanted it to mean something.
“I’ve never had a man cook for me once, let alone on a continual basis. I wouldn’t dream of missing it.”
“You’re hanging out with the wrong sort of men,” he advised. “Any man worth your time should know his way around a kitchen. What do you like to eat?”
“Are you asking me on a date, Mr. Renshaw?” Judging by the way his face morphed back into the solid barrier it usually resembled, it was the wrong thing to tease him about and was definitely not what he’d meant.
“I’m asking you what you like so I can cook it for you,” he explained flatly. “That’s all.”
Oh, well, of course. But wasn’t that almost like a date? She tucked her tongue in her cheek and opted not to mention that. “Steak. And chicken. I actually like almost everything. I’m not terribly picky.”
Starving doctoral candidates rarely had that luxury. Nor did she have men of any sort paying this close attention to her likes and dislikes. Just this one. There might be swooning in her future.
“I’ll take that under advisement next time I go to the store.” Zero glanced at the sun and started edging away. “Gotta get back to the fence.”
“I’m headed into town,” she blurted out, in an obvious, desperate attempt to keep him in her orbit for a bit longer.
Who could blame her? The man had just offered to cook for her on a regular basis.
Maybe he asked everyone what they liked, but there was no one else here right now except the two of them, and dang if she didn’t want to peel back a layer or two of Zero Renshaw, just to see what other surprises he had hidden under his brick wall.
“Don’t let me keep you,” he said, throwing out an arm to indicate she should get on with the getting on. “Tag and I are going to the MacGregors’ later to check out their cows.”
A timely reminder of her purpose here, and it was to train dogs, not to spend another hour working out how to convince him cooking dinner for a woman did in fact equal a date. Even if there were other family members present. Some cultures insisted on it, in fact.
Delilah let Zero walk away, cursing how the man turned her brain into mush.
She had no business thinking about him as anything other than her boss.
None. But that didn’t seem to be enough of a reminder to stop her from envisioning a scenario where he made it very clear dinner was a date and she better get used to the idea.
Because he was interested in her in a way that put a flutter in her tummy.
She jumped in her car to steer away from this madness.
The concrete road running in front of the Flying Pig stretched both ways for miles without even a sign to break up the lot of nothing.
Delilah recalled Sheridan mentioning the closest town, Hush, lay to the left, so she steered her car in that direction, praying they’d have a grocery store that catered to pets instead of livestock.
The town was so tiny she almost missed it.
Miller’s Feed and Seed and a gas station with a list of meats painted on the window sat at a four-way stop.
A block over, a squat white building with big windows could pass for a church.
Next to it, a larger but just as squat brick building boasted a sign declaring it to be the Hush Police Station and City Hall.
A few houses sat beyond that. No horses tied up at the entrance to anything, though she wouldn’t be shocked if that was actually a common sight.
The Feed and Seed featured a limited selection of dog treats, but since beggars couldn’t be choosers, she loaded up, swiping basically the entire shelf into her basket.