Chapter 8
JULIAN
“Cut,” the director calls, and I give Daisy, my black mare, the signal to stand still, then step onto the set to offer her a carrot.
The actor isn’t quite as cooperative as my horse, because he hops down and makes his displeasure with the director known in an obnoxious fashion. Not my circus, not my monkeys, so I just pet Daisy’s nose while they work out their dispute.
While I wait, I reach into my pocket to check my phone. I felt it vibrate a little while ago while we were in the middle of the scene. A smile jumps to my lips as soon as I see that it’s a text from Ranger.
“It doesn’t mean anything,” I whisper to Daisy. “He’s still adjusting to having a dog, so it’s natural he’ll have a lot of questions.”
And a lot of questions he has had indeed.
In the past week, I’ve gotten no fewer than five or six texts each day, asking me which food is best for Benny and if there’s any validity to the whole raw diet thing.
He even sent me several pictures of Benny’s poop, asking if it looks normal.
Should he be brushing the dog’s teeth… It’s cute, if I’m being honest. I mean, not cute, but sweet… okay, fine, cute too.
Today’s text is a picture of Benny gently carrying around what appears to be a stuffed turkey.
Julian
So cute!
Ranger
It seems like having something to hold soothes him. And if he’s meant to be comforting me, I figure he should be as calm as possible.
I chuckle at the comment.
Julian
Great point. Retrievers are always calmest when they have something to hold in their mouths. The turkey was an interesting choice.
Ranger
I gave him a few options, and that seemed to be his preference. I got a few others for him in case he has a change of heart later, though.
I laugh again, my heart warming at how quickly he seems to have bonded with Benny, and it’s obvious how much good the dog is doing for him. It’s a small thing, but I notice in the background of the picture, his house looks slightly tidier than when I was there before.
I’ve volunteered a lot of energy and time, not to mention money, into working for the Pups for Patriots program, and I’ve never seen this side of the process firsthand.
I’ve always had to believe in what I had learned about the benefits and trust in my dogs, but to actually witness Ranger’s slow improvement with my own two eyes is magical.
Ranger
What are you up to today?
The question surprises me. Yes, we’ve texted very regularly for the past week but never about anything except Benny.
Is there some line I shouldn’t cross here?
The program is free to vets, so he’s not technically a paying client or anything, which means fraternization shouldn’t be an issue.
He probably needs a friend, and let’s face it, I’m not exactly swimming in companionship either…
well, the two-legged nonfurry kind of companionship anyway.
Although I’m also not opposed to the right amount of body hair.
My mind wanders back to the day I brought Benny to Ranger, specifically the shirtless part.
The part before I tripped and made an ass of myself by setting off his PTSD.
My body gets a little tingly as I remember the tuft of dark hair surrounding his belly button and trailing down to the waistband of his jeans. And that silver nipple stud.
Before I can spend too much time shamelessly drooling over the mental image of a half-naked Ranger that I’ve conjured up, the actor strides back over to Daisy in an angry huff. I put a hand up and stop him before he can mount her again.
“You need to cool your energy off,” I say, moving between him and the horse.
He snorts and rolls his eyes. “It’s a horse, and I want to get this damn scene wrapped already. I have dinner plans.”
“I don’t care what kind of plans you have. Horses are sensitive to energy, and if you come at her the way you are, she’s not going to be as receptive to my signals. It’s dangerous.”
He grits his teeth, darting his eyes between me and Daisy, like he’s wondering if he can get around me to get back in the saddle.
He’s dreaming if he thinks I’ll let that happen.
I may not be the biggest guy in the world, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned in all my time taming giant beasts, it’s that energy is everything.
I square my shoulders and fix him with an “I will not be fucked with” look, and just like the bear—animal bear, not human bear, just FYI—I once tried that on, he turns around and stalks off, muttering under his breath.
To be clear, the bear didn’t mutter, but it did make some annoyed grumbling noises.
While I wait for him to adjust his attitude, I return to my text exchange with Ranger. I was too lost in my drool-worthy musings to respond before.
Julian
Taming horses and grouchy actors. You?
The message is marked as read, and little bubbles pop up, then disappear, then pop up again.
I don’t get to find out what he’s taking so much time to say, though, because grouchy actor, Ryan, returns with much more appropriate energy this time.
I step out of the way and pat Daisy’s nose while he clambers onto her back.
After another few hours, the scene is finally wrapped, and I load my horse back up into her trailer. I hop into the cab of my truck, pull out my phone again to see the message I missed from Ranger.
Ranger
Wow, that’s…impressive. You must think I’m a joke, not even able to handle regular day-to-day shit while you’re out there making movies and training animals and fuck knows what else.
My heart gives a sad pang for him.
Julian
Pretty sure if I were in a combat situation, I’d soil myself on the spot and then run the other way, screaming like a child. You’re not giving yourself nearly enough credit.
Ranger
yeah…
I frown at his response, setting my phone in the cup holder and putting the truck into gear to get us home.
While I drive, I think about how it must feel to go from seeing yourself as this badass, capable soldier to looking in the mirror every day at someone who’s struggling to do the simplest things.
Forget the fact that a heck of a lot of trauma went into the transformation; it must be difficult to reconcile those two different versions.
When I get back to the farm, I unload Daisy and do a quick check of the barn to make sure everyone has fresh water, then head inside. In the last week, Rita and Calzone have been placed in a new home as well, and only three dogs greet me, which is a woefully low number of dogs if you ask me.
I give PP a kiss on the snout and pat Theodore and Lila on the head. I’ll probably have them placed within the next few weeks if I had to guess, which will mean a new batch of puppies, a stage I always look forward to and dread at the same time.
I kick off my shoes, stroll into the living room, and flop down onto the couch.
I pull out my phone again and stare at the recent text exchange with Ranger, an unsettled feeling in my chest at his perception of himself.
I’m not a therapist, and I know that, but giving him Benny was the best thing I could offer him, but maybe friendship wouldn’t hurt either?
Julian
I’m trying to decide between watching a Hallmark movie or a Lifetime movie. The struggle is real.
Ranger
Is there a difference?
Julian
Is there a difference?! Holy potatoes, I cannot believe you just asked that.
Ranger
Holy potatoes?
Julian
Don’t change the subject. I’m about to school you here, and you need to pay attention…
Ranger’s education on the difference between Hallmark and Lifetime segues into a discussion about our favorite and, more importantly, least favorite movies that lasts most of the night, meaning that I never get around to watching a movie after all, which is perfectly fine with me.
Our conversation is far more interesting than what either Hallmark or Lifetime has to offer.
As I climb into bed, one last text comes through: a selfie of Ranger and Benny snuggling in bed, and dammit, the man is shirtless again. If we’re going to become friends, he’s going to need to learn to stay fully clothed at all times.
Julian
Cute. Sleep tight.
I set my phone on my nightstand, and PP jumps up into bed next to me. I sigh and run my fingers through her fur. I’m not lonely. I have Princess Pinecone. Not lonely at all.