by Karis Walsh
“I’m Lenae McIntyre.” Lenae held out her hand and felt strong, warm fingers take hold of her own. No hesitancy or fumbling for grip, as Lenae so often experienced when shaking hands with someone for the first time. Her hand found Cara’s naturally.
“Nice to meet you, Lenae.”
Lenae pulled her hand away more sharply than she intended. Cara’s use of her name—spoken in that oozing-honey voice of hers—brought conflicting feelings to the surface. Attraction, yes. But more than that. From the feel of Cara’s hand fitting so perfectly in hers to the voice that could convince a person of just about anything, Lenae felt physically aroused even as she heard warning Klaxons in her mind. If Cara’s looks were any match to her voice, she’d be a knockout. Definitely on the track to bigger and better media jobs. Lenae had been fooled by soft voices and the smoky sound of her own name spoken in ways she thought had been meaningful, only to find they had merely been self-serving. She didn’t trust herself to judge by sound alone how much of Cara was practiced media personality and how much was the real person.
While Cara introduced her producer and cameraman, Baxter moved from Lenae’s side until he was standing protectively in front of her legs. He was relaxed, but slightly on the defensive. Lenae put her trust in his instincts yet again. He seemed to think she needed protection, so she would close her ears to the sweet and sultry sound of Cara.
“Why don’t you give us a tour of your center while we talk,” Cara said. “Once George has seen his options, we’ll return to a few of the places and fill in some of the gaps in the interview. Can you start by introducing me to this handsome fellow?”
Lenae relaxed fractionally when the attention turned off her and onto her dog. She could hear the sounds as George adjusted the camera, and she felt the presence of the boom above her head. Filming had already begun. “This is Baxter,” she said, reminding herself why she was doing this interview. For the center. For all the people and dogs that would come through her doors and be forever changed by their new partnerships. “He’s a five-year-old golden retriever, and we’ve been together for three years.”
“It’s customary to ask permission from the handler before approaching and petting a service animal,” Cara said, her voice becoming a touch more distant as she addressed her remark to the camera. Lenae felt an odd sense of loneliness until she felt the whisper of Cara’s breath and the focused sound of her voice when she faced Lenae again. “Is it all right if I pet him?”
“Yes, of course.” Lenae dropped Baxter’s harness so he knew he was free to visit. She wasn’t sure how he’d respond to Cara since he had been initially protective of her, but she had complete faith in his polite manner. Even if he didn’t like Cara, he wouldn’t snap or be anything but gentle. To her surprise, though, the moment he was released and Cara knelt next to him, Lenae felt a quiver of excitement run through his body—even more pronounced than it had been when he met Des. She had been expecting him to be standoffish, but she felt him squirm like a puppy under Cara’s attentions. Maybe he had only been reacting to Lenae’s emotions, not responding to Cara’s character as Lenae had originally thought.
More distracting yet was the sound of Cara’s laughter, as seductive and sweet as her voice had been. She spoke to her television audience while she played with Baxter and got what sounded like a thorough licking. The laughter sounded genuine, but Lenae wasn’t sure whether it really was.
Finally Cara stood up again. “Let’s get a mic on you for the rest of the tour.”
Lenae was accustomed to being touched by well-meaning but intrusive people who wanted to help her. She usually avoided any contact that made her feel weak or helpless—and that was most of the contact she faced on a daily basis. Department store clerks who wanted to assist her and often were too intimate with their touch. Other grocery shoppers who saw her feeling for items and stepped in before she had a chance to take care of herself.
Cara’s touch was different. Respectful and minimal, although it generated a sensation of heat along Lenae’s collarbone and against her belly when Cara clipped the equipment in place. Cara was dangerous. She seemed to know how to use her voice to seduce and charm. She left a trail of electricity everywhere her skimming fingers touched. She even had Baxter enamored of her. But she was still dangerous. She could lead Lenae to believe everything she said. She had already stirred up Lenae’s arousal until she compliantly let Cara take charge of the mic even though Lenae had used one before and could have wired herself up in less time. Every place where Lenae had the potential to be weak, Cara was strong.
*
Cara finished clipping the mic to Lenae’s shirt and then she stepped away. Usually Sheryl took care of this small chore, but Cara had stepped in and done the job herself because she had been the one talking—the familiar one—to Lenae, and she thought the requisite touching might be less disturbing from her. But the second her fingers brushed the smooth, pale skin just above the waistband of Lenae’s khakis, she had to admit that she had wanted to find out if Lenae’s body lived up to its promise.
It did. Cara finished the job as quickly as possible, while still being sure to ask Lenae’s permission each time before she touched her. She stayed silent on the short walk to the dog kennels behind the office even though she knew she should be chatting with Lenae to get some possible filler for the segment. Instead she gave herself a short break while she brought her focus off the three-dimensional world that included the feel of Lenae’s skin and back to the two-dimensional world of appearances and videotape.
“I thought we’d start with the puppies,” Lenae said when they reached one of the dog runs. Cara forgot her discomfort with Lenae’s closeness once she saw the writhing mass of fur and fluff through the chain-link fence.
“Do you mind taking care of the gate, Cara? Be sure it closes behind us so no one gets out.” Lenae told Baxter to stay before moving her hand along the fence until she reached the latch. She opened the door and slid through the narrow space and into the run.
“Of course. George can film through the chain link.” Cara thought Lenae’s words had sounded less like a request for help and more like a warning not to be stupid and leave the gate open. She sidled through the door, latched it securely, and immediately dropped to her knees next to Lenae. She had loved meeting Baxter, but the pups were something else. She ignored the rolling film and the script for her show for a few moments while she burrowed into the pile of puppies and tried to pet them while they licked and jumped all over her. She’d always loved animals but had never been allowed to have a pet while growing up. Animals were unpredictable and messy, not suitable at all for a family focused on appearances and putting on a show. Cara picked up a small chocolate Lab, clearly the runt of the litter, and snuggled him while he chewed on her carefully curled hair. There was no question of these animals being genuine and without artifice. Even Cara couldn’t think a cynical thought when the pup looked at her with a clump of her hair sticking out of his mouth like a blond mustache.
Cara pulled her damp hair out of the puppy’s mouth and fought to get her mind back on business and off play. “I’m holding a brown dog, the smallest one here,” she said to Lenae. “What’s his name?”
“That’s Pickwick. He and his two siblings, along with another litter of three pups, will be the first to go through my training program from the puppy-walking stage to being matched with a visually impaired owner. It takes up to four months to train a dog and usually another month to get the partnership of dog and owner working smoothly, but the puppy-walking process takes a year or more before the dogs are ready for training. So it’s vital that we have new crops of puppies entering our program on a regular basis.”
Cara swallowed a sigh. Lenae spoke like someone who had written the right words to say, but who wasn’t prepared to deliver those words with the persuasive entreaty needed to make people want to volunteer. “Who are these puppy walkers? Does the job require some special skills?”
“No. The main requirements
are a safe place to raise the puppy and a dedication to exposing them to a variety of experiences.” Lenae settled on the ground and lifted the other two puppies onto her lap. They seemed to have tired after their initial excitement, and they settled next to each other and wrestled halfheartedly. Cara watched Lenae’s smile relax and deepen as she stroked the puppies. Despite her formal delivery, these dogs and the program obviously meant a great deal to her. Cara needed to do her best to bring some warmth to the story, and she summoned all her acting skills to do so.
“And what happens at the end of the puppy-walking stage?” Cara gave a sad frown to the camera, as if she knew the answer that was coming and found it difficult to face. She nuzzled Pickwick and he tried to bite her nose.
“Then the young dogs are brought into training.” Lenae’s voice seemed to grow colder as Cara increased the emotional response in her own. The opposite effect to what she had been trying to achieve, but Cara couldn’t stop her own reaction at the idea of spending a year raising a puppy as if it were her own only to give it up without a second thought.
“Most people who have pets feel like they’re part of the family. I guess it takes a certain kind of person to be able to just let them go without…being too sad about it.”
Cara had been about to say without caring but stopped herself in time. She wasn’t sure why the thought of someone so easily shuffling a puppy to a new owner made her gut clench. Maybe because she had often wondered—half in jest, even as a child—if her own parents would have hired a replacement to play their daughter if she herself hadn’t been Bradley-pretty enough to look good in photographs. She and her brother Richard had laughed while spinning stories of being locked in the basement during their teenaged years while a more beautiful and less-acned duo acted in their place. But her parents hadn’t been heartless enough to disown her even in her awkward stages. What kind of person would so casually dismiss a puppy?
“Yes, it does take a certain kind of person to be a puppy walker.” Lenae answered Cara’s spoken statement. She gently set her two pups on the grass and stood up. Baxter, as if sensing agitation in his person, came over to the door of the run and whined softly. “It takes someone with a lot of love and time to offer. It takes someone who understands the true meaning of the gift they’re giving a visually impaired person. These individuals and families raise the dogs in a loving home environment, taking them to work and on errands, spending almost every hour of every day with them. They don’t give them up after a year, but they give the dogs and their new owners a chance to have something special and wonderful together.”
Lenae put her hand out and felt for the wall of the run, following it until she reached the door. She fumbled for the latch—obviously upset and shaken—before letting herself out and kneeling next to Baxter. She reached for him, and Cara saw the dog move until his head was under Lenae’s seeking hands. Lenae stroked Baxter’s face, and then she clipped on his lead and picked up the handle of his harness. She stood and faced in Cara’s direction.
“If Lynn hadn’t been willing to puppy walk Baxter, if she hadn’t raised him in a place of love and human interaction, I’d never have the freedom I have now. I can go more places more easily, more independently, than I ever could before. But it’s more than that. We’re best friends and we watch out for each other. The trust between us is complete and unquestionable. Have you ever felt that kind of bond with any other being?”
Cara gave Pickwick a hug and set him next to his siblings. She stood and looked at the three people standing outside the run. Lenae looked defiant and angry, but her hand was trembling where it rested softly on Baxter’s neck. Sheryl was looking between Cara and Lenae as if she wasn’t sure whether or not to step in and stop them from bickering. George had lowered his camera, no longer filming since the discussion was obviously one they wouldn’t use on the show.
“No,” Cara answered softly. “I haven’t.”
She let herself out the door, careful to keep the puppies from following her.
“We’ll have to reshoot the dialogue portion, but I got some good footage of the puppies,” George said, as unconcerned about anything but the filming, as always.
Lenae turned her head in his direction, and Cara thought she saw a smile forming on her serious face, but it disappeared as quickly as it had come.
“What next?” Sheryl asked Lenae in a falsely perky voice. Cara had planned for them to simply move from kennel to kennel during the shooting, meeting each dog and discussing its level of training, but Lenae’s next words caught her by surprise. She didn’t like surprises on filming day.
“Before our fully trained dogs are matched with new owners, they go through a final test of guiding a blindfolded volunteer. We want to find out how they adjust to a different voice issuing commands. I thought we could blindfold Cara and have Toby guide her around a little.”
Chapter Four
Lenae was relieved to hear Des approaching once they had left the puppy enclosure. She was used to hearing the occasional person voice their disapproval of guide dogs, and she wasn’t certain why Cara’s implied criticism of puppy walkers had hurt so badly. She tried to tell herself it was because she had hoped this television segment would bring more of the needed volunteers to the program, not alienate or discourage them from helping. She shouldn’t be surprised that someone like Cara—accustomed to the media world—would only see the black-and-white version of the story instead of the complex emotional commitment of the people who devoted months to the puppies temporarily in their care.
“This is Desmond Carter, my assistant trainer,” Lenae said as soon as she felt him stop by her side. “He’ll help us get Toby and Cara ready for the demonstration.”
Lenae stepped back while the television crew introduced themselves to Des and discussed the best strategy for filming the demo. She had been planning to take a more active role during the entire afternoon of filming, but she was relieved to be given a small break to get herself together. Baxter hugged her side while Des described the route Toby and Cara would take along the quiet streets around the center.
A light whiff of oranges and vanilla signaled Cara’s approach. The scent reminded Lenae of the ice cream bars she used to enjoy as a child, when the summertime sound of the ice cream truck brought her running to the curb along with the other neighborhood children. Flavors as soft and sweet as Cara’s voice. Too bad her words hadn’t had the same qualities as the tone in which they were delivered.
“I’m sorry,” Cara said. “I didn’t mean to insult you or the people who volunteer with your program.”
Lenae noticed that Cara hadn’t said she was wrong about her assessment, just that she shouldn’t have spoken her criticisms out loud. “We can’t survive as a training center without puppy walkers. One reason I agreed to do this show was because I wanted to reach more potential volunteers, not drive them away.”
“I know. And when we rerecord the two of us talking about puppy walkers, I’ll keep my opinions to myself and let you steer the conversation. Okay?”
“Sure.” Lenae knew she should be satisfied because she would get what she needed—positive exposure for her center. Why did she care whether Cara approved of the process or not? “Baxter, find Toby.”
Cara watched as the retriever set off down the aisle in front of the runs. She followed along more slowly, trying to regain the detached composure she usually felt during filming. Even when she was moved or touched by one of her segments, she always felt the hint of her forthcoming drop in energy and hope. They rarely shot more than one segment of the program at a time, only doing two today because they had needed to reshoot at the Baer house, and she had let the return of cynicism that she always felt after filming color her response to Lenae and the center. That must be the reason why she had challenged Lenae about the puppy walkers instead of simply acting like an uninvolved reporter.
Another retriever, shorter and stockier than Baxter, was waiting at the gate of his enclosure, pressing his nose against the
door and wagging his entire hind end. Cara couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm.
Desmond grinned at her for the first time, perhaps noticing her response to the dog’s greeting. He was tall and lanky, with hipster glasses and long hair. She’d seen him watching Lenae with a concerned expression since he had arrived on the scene, but Toby’s energy seemed to be lightening his mood—hell, everyone’s mood. Baxter’s ears were perked and his tail waved gently, and even Lenae was smiling as she held her palm up to the chain link for Toby to lick.
“As you can see, our dogs are very excited about the work they do.” Des spoke with the overly loud voice of someone unaccustomed to wearing a mic, as if he were trying to project his voice to a large and invisible audience. He had a harness and lead in his hand, and when he held them up, Toby spun in delighted circles. “If any of our animals in training don’t seem to love the work, we’ll find new homes for them.”
“So you believe the dogs truly enjoy the work they do? They’re not just trained to perform a certain way?”