Chapter Six #2
The cashier, a willowy, ash blond woman with a ruddy face of the variety that came from being outside every day for forty years, eyed her curiously. “You must be the dog trainer the Renshaws hired.”
News traveled fast in this place.
“Did they send out an APB on me?” she asked, half joking.
The cashier laughed and held up one of the bags of dog treats that must have given away Delilah’s status. “Don’t have to around here. Tag Ryland came in yesterday, which is the same as taking out a full-page ad in the paper as far as telling folks stuff. I’m sure we’ll see you around.”
Mystified as to why Tag would find her worth mentioning to anyone, let alone a random cashier at a store that sold giant bags of horse food, Delilah nodded. “I’m Delilah Kersey, by the way. Nice to meet you.”
“Carol Miller. Like the sign.” She pointed over her shoulder to the placard behind her with the Miller Feed and Seed logo emblazoned on it. “Been in business fifty-seven years next month. Not me personally, of course, since I’m perpetually twenty-nine.”
“Oh, sure,” Delilah agreed instantly with a conspiratorial smile. “I was just thinking you don’t look a day over twenty-eight. Your parents started the place?”
Carol touched her nose and tapped. “I took over for good ’bout fifteen years ago when Mom and Dad ‘retired’ with huge air quotes because they don’t know what that means.
I catch Dad in the back still trying to unload pallets of Horse Chow.
At eighty-five, the man should know better, but he doesn’t listen to me or Doc Lowrey. You know how they are.”
No, she didn’t. Except for the workaholic part. That she knew about her father pretty well.
Odds on, the elder Millers had known Grandpa Renshaw, and if she came across the couple, she might ask if they knew anything about the history of the dogs, strictly for her own information. Delilah stored that information away and bid Carol goodbye.
After she got back to the ranch, she’d scarcely shut the car door when she spied a strawberry blond head peeking over the painted white railing of the porch. Hunter. Who must not realize he hadn’t turned invisible.
“I see you,” she commented with a laugh. “You don’t have to hide from me. I’m not going to get you in trouble again.”
The little head poked up to where she could see his eyes but not much more. The kid spent a lot of time on the porch. It only just then occurred to her that he might be hiding from something else. Or avoiding something—a reality she knew all too well.
“Did you go to town?” Hunter asked, his gaze on her bag.
Door number three—he’d been waiting for her. Why? She held it up. “To the feed store to get more dog treats.”
“So you can get the dogs to do what you say?”
She nodded. “Like I showed you. The treats are rewards.”
Man, his life must be boring if this was the conversation he wanted to be having. But she couldn’t ignore the fact he’d taken a strong interest in her activities, and more to the point, she didn’t think she should ignore it. Hunter needed a friend or some attention or both.
Mindful of the dressing down she’d gotten from Zero the day before, she nodded to the house.
“Ask your mom if you can come to the barn to watch my training sessions this afternoon,” she told him. “You don’t have to participate or anything unless you want to.”
He brightened visibly and vanished inside the house, letting the screen door slam against the frame. Okay, then. That suggestion had hit the mark, at least with Hunter.
When he came back, his smile told her he’d gotten his mom’s approval. Great. The boy had made huge strides yesterday, which couldn’t continue if his mom kept him away from Delilah.
“You want to work with Elizabeth Swann again today?” she asked him as they walked down to the barn together. “Or you want to see all the cool tricks Will Turner can do?”
“Can we do both?” he asked, his eagerness nearly breaking her heart.
Exactly how long had he been haunting that porch waiting for her to come back from the store?
“Sure, Buddy, you bet.” She handed him one of the treat bags. “Put that one in your pocket. It’ll be yours.”
“For my very own?” When she nodded, he took the bag reverently as if she’d filled it full of hundred-dollar bills and bubble gum and maybe some Manga, or whatever kids his age liked. “How many can I give Elizabeth Swann?”
“As many as you think you should. The point is to reward her good behavior and withhold treats when she doesn’t do what she’s supposed to.
It’s kind of hard to do that sometimes, because she’s so cute and sweet.
But you have to remember that you’re trying to help her become the best dog she can be, right? ”
All of that rolled off her tongue so easily, despite never being told stuff like that during her own lessons on how to train dogs.
Her father’s teaching philosophy hinged on negative reinforcement, both with people and animals.
Before she’d adopt that as her own method, she’d get in her car, drive away, and never return.
Hunter nodded solemnly. “That’s what my dad used to say when he made me go to bed before I wanted to.”