“So, basically walk like I’ve had too much of the punch at the Sweet family Christmas party?”
“Exactly.”
Josh reset the dog. “Raider, sit. Stay.”
The dog dropped his haunches, his gaze locked on Josh. The intensity of the animal straddled something between terrifying and beautiful. She just hoped beautiful won out when she bumped him.
“Action,” Josh called out.
Exaggerating her walk, she felt utterly ridiculous. Drifting aimlessly to the left and then correcting sharply to the right, she headed straight for the dog. Katie let her hip check the dog’s shoulder as she stumbled past. It wasn’t a hard hit, but enough to knock a smaller dog off balance.
Raider shifted his weight to absorb the bump, let out a huff of air, and looked up at Katie with an expression that clearly read,What the heck?But he didn’t growl. He didn’t break his sit.
“Good boy.” Josh praised, tossing a treat. He looked at Katie. “Again. This time come at him from the front.”
They ran the drill three more times. Katie stomped, swayed, and invaded the dog’s personal bubble. Every time, Raider held his ground, looking to Josh for reassurance and receiving it.
Watching Josh work was a revelation. In the kitchen, he was soft—gentle smiles and quiet conversation. Out here, inhandler mode,he was different. His shoulders were squared, his voice dropped an octave, commanding but never harsh. He moved with an efficiency that made her realize just how much effort he must have been putting into simply walking straight for the last two weeks.
“He’s solid,” Josh declared, scrubbing Raider’s neck with affection. “I think Kade is going to be surprised.”
“I thinkyouare the one surprising people.” Katie walked over to join them.
Josh looked up, shielding his eyes from the sun. “How so?”
“Look at you.” She gestured to him. “You’ve been out here spinning, bending down, handling a powerhouse dog, and you haven’t reached for a fence post once.”
Josh paused. He looked down at his feet, then back at her, a realization dawning on his face. “I guess I haven’t.”
“You’re getting your sea legs back, soldier.”
“Maybe I just have a good spotter,” he countered, his gaze holding hers.
“Okay, flattery will get you everywhere.” She laughed, turning toward the house. “But I think this is more than enough for one day.”
“Agreed. Let’s head in.”
They started the trek back across the pasture. The ground here was rougher than the manicured lawn near the house—clumps of crabgrass, and uneven ruts from the ranch vehicles and cattle.
“So now what?” Katie asked.
“Now that we have power again, I’ll do a search on what steps are required for a therapy dog.”
“I wonder if Sara Sue would know?”
Josh bobbed his head. “I should have thought of that.”
“I’m sure you would have.” Paying more attention to the strong gait of the man and his dog—because whether he knew it or not, Raider was now his dog—the toe of her boot caught the lip of a dry rut. It happened fast. One second she was walking, the next gravity took over. Her ankle rolled, and she pitched forward with a sharp gasp.
“Whoa!” Josh’s voice was deep and low and before she could hit the dirt, a steel band clamped around her waist. Josh caught her, hauling her upright, pulling her flush against his chest to steady her.
Katie’s hands flew up, landing on his biceps. The muscle beneath her palms was rock hard. She waited for the sway. Sheexpected him to stumble, for the sudden movement to trigger his dizziness. But he didn’t move. He was rooted to the spot, holding her weight and his own without a tremor.
His face was inches from hers, his eyes dark and intense. He didn’t let go. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” she muttered. “You seem to be doing better yourself, I, on the other hand, think I failed the walking test.”
“I think you passed the trust test.”
