by Deb Kastner
Ruby had Aaron direct Oscar to turn the lights on and off and then retrieve a bottle of water from the refrigerator. If the dog so much as hesitated, Aaron didn’t see it. This poodle was astonishing. Props to Ruby for training such an amazing animal.
“Great,” Ruby said, writing cryptically on her clipboard and keeping her scribbling out of his view. Usually, her expression was...if not easy to read, then at least cheery. But right now, her gaze was as serious as the set of her lips. “Okay, we’re finished in here. Good job, both of you. Now, we’re going to go into town.”
“‘Into town’?” Aaron echoed, confused. “Why are we going into town?”
She smiled, her eyes finally shining with the light Aaron had been missing all morning. “To finish your test, of course.”
“What?” Panic bolted through him like lightning. “I thought we were going to stay around here and do all the outside stuff we’ve been practicing so hard on. You know—go on a little hike to show off Oscar’s balancing prowess and then run the agility course to display his intelligence to finish up.”
“Nope. We’re going to town. Don’t forget, this test is as much about Oscar as it is about you, and what better place to show off his skills than in town?”
Aaron pursed his lips. Wasn’t that his whole point? He thought it was much better to display his ability to work with Oscar by hiking and running—okay, walking fast—the agility course. He hadn’t anticipated this major hairpin curve in the road, and he felt as if he were going way too fast to be able to turn on a dime, as she was clearly expecting him to do.
She hadn’t said a word during this entire training period about having to go to town as part of the final exam.
He had believed he’d prepared in every possible way. He’d worked so hard with Oscar every evening, visiting the agility course after hours and even taking small hikes behind the bed-and-breakfast to learn to balance himself over rough terrain with Oscar’s help. They’d gone over basic training until there was no question in his mind they would pass.
But going to town?
Not so much.
He felt as if she’d sucker punched him with this new request. He avoided people as much as possible, as Ruby well knew. He went to church, of course, and had visited the grocery store and Sally’s Pizza once or twice, but other than that he had avoided Whispering Pines altogether. He always felt people were watching him, although he wasn’t self-centered enough not to realize that was probably all in his head. He was so aware of his own awkward movements that he just assumed everyone else saw them, as well.
Wouldn’t people wonder why he was dragging his left leg or that he’d have to stop to catch his breath, and why at random moments his expression would turn to one of outright pain?
Oscar had helped a lot with all of that. But that brought up a whole other problem because he would be jaunting around town with a black standard poodle with a teddy bear cut. If people didn’t stare at him because of his limp, a man walking around with a froufrou dog was bound to raise some eyebrows and had already the few times he’d visited town.
“What’s in town?” he asked suspiciously, trying to sound nonchalant as he placed Oscar in the back seat of the double cab and carefully climbed up into the passenger side of Ruby’s truck.
“Your final test,” she said, flashing him another smile.
Great. She was actually enjoying this! She finally had her happy demeanor back, and she was using it to torture him.
“I was afraid that’s what you were going to say,” he admitted. “And yet you never mentioned going to town was a part of our final exam.”
She glanced at him, her eyes sparkling. “And yet I didn’t.”
“So, we’re not just picking up feed or anything?”
“Oh, no. We’re doing that, too. We may as well make the most of the trip, don’t you think? And I always need dog food. I’ve got a pallet waiting for us at the feed store. But mostly this is for you and Oscar.”
“Do I get to know what Oscar and I are supposed to be doing while in town?” He held his breath as he waited for her response. Maybe if he had a list of exactly what she was looking for, he could make sure he and Oscar passed all the points.
“You know in school where you had a test that mostly consisted of multiple choice and true/false questions and then there was a random essay question at the end that was worth most of your grade?”
His shoulders tensed as he nodded. He’d hated high school. The thought of anything academic still gave him hives.
“This is the essay question,” she told him.
In other words, this part of the test was open-ended, fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants. And worth most of his grade. His mind scrambled to come up with what Ruby might be expecting, what types of obstacles he might be looking out for, but he was still drawing a blank when they arrived in town and she parked at the back of the feed store.
“Like I said, I’ve got a pallet of dog food waiting,” she told him. “If you can load it up in the back of the truck, that would be great.”
He narrowed his gaze on her, trying to second-guess her motives. Loading dog food, he could do, although he had to take only one fifty-pound bag over his right shoulder at a time to make sure he stayed balanced. It used to be he could have easily hoisted two at a time—yet another reminder of how everything had changed. Always on alert, Oscar stayed close to his left heel, ready to step in if he stumbled, which thankfully he didn’t do.
Ruby didn’t help with the loading. Rather, she kept her eye on Oscar’s movements, occasionally scribbling something on her clipboard.
“Okay, now what?” he asked when he had all the bags of dog food loaded in the back of the truck.
“It’s a nice day,” she told him. “Let’s go for a stroll through town.”
Chapter Ten
Ruby had to bite the inside of her lip to keep from chuckling when Aaron’s face grew pale. It wasn’t that she enjoyed torturing him, but this was something he needed to learn, and there was no better time than the present. The poor man was so sure he was the center of everyone’s attention any time he went to town that he avoided it like the plague.
It was something she’d never specifically done with any of her other clients because the service dogs had already learned how to be around the people and distractions of town when she and her sisters took them out. But she’d just added it to the syllabus for every service dog–training course. It wasn’t until Aaron had come along that she’d realized just how important this objective was.
Aaron was the perfect example of being too self-aware. He wasn’t giving the people of Whispering Pines enough credit. If he had garnered any attention at all, it would be because he was new to town and folks wanted to get to know him—and most of them knew and liked Oscar, although she wasn’t sure if he was yet completely comfortable in his skin where the poodle was concerned. He’d certainly come a long way.
New to town and gone tomorrow.
The more she thought about it, the heavier her heart felt. She wished she knew what to say to make things different, but what was there?
His training was over, and he’d performed beyond what she’d ever expected. She remembered the first day they’d met, when she’d been certain this trial would be a complete disaster and utter failure. He had stepped out of the car ready to fight her every step of the way before he’d even known what she or her program offered.
And yet look how it had turned out. He and Oscar were an amazing team. In truth, she’d brought him to town just as much to spend this last little bit of time with him as it was the end of his final test, although she was surreptitiously watching to make sure Oscar’s attention remained totally focused on Aaron whenever they passed by people or stopped to speak to someone.
Ruby needn’t have bothered. She already knew beyond a doubt that Oscar belonged with Aaron. It was as clear as a sunny day in
Colorado.
If only human-to-human relationships were as uncomplicated as canine-human relationships were. It was easy to know what a dog was thinking about you. Even the toughest dogs she’d had, those who’d been abused or neglected, quickly learned to love and trust humans again.
She didn’t know if Aaron would ever heal from his wounds and be able to trust and love people again. If she believed he’d made that gigantic emotional step, she’d just open up and tell him what she was feeling, but she suspected all that would do was complicate matters more than they already were.
Ruby understood dogs. Men—one marine in particular—were another thing entirely.
But this wasn’t about her. It was about what was best for Aaron, which meant it was better to keep her thoughts and emotions to herself rather than press him on the subject. He was already feeling as if he were in the spotlight as it was.
“There’s a lovely little ice-cream parlor at the end of the street,” she said, noticing he was sweating again. She didn’t know how much of it was the sun and how much was nerves, but either way, ice cream was always a good idea. “Have you visited it yet?”
He shook his head. “No. I guess I didn’t realize it was there, or I probably would have. It’s getting hot out here today. Ice cream sounds good right about now.”
“I think so, too. What about you, Oscar?”
Oscar wagged his tail and barked once.
“He can have ice cream?” Aaron asked with a surprised laugh.
“Whipped cream or low-fat vanilla soft serve is fine for dogs,” she said. “Doug and Kris Little, who own the shop, serve it up special with a dog treat. They know most of our pups since me and my brothers and sisters are regular visitors, and as you know, we’ve always got a plus-one hanging out with us when we’re in town. Oscar is probably already drooling since we’re headed that way.”
Oscar did, indeed, perk up as they reached the ice-cream shop. Aaron held the door for Ruby and pressed his hand to the small of her back as he entered behind her. She was ultra-aware of his touch and the exact moment he dropped his arm.
“Hey, Ruby. Hey, Oscar,” Doug cheerfully greeted from behind the counter. “And who else do we have with us here today?”
“Doug, this is Sergeant Aaron Jamison,” Ruby introduced. “He’s in the service-dog training program here with Oscar.”
Aaron held out his hand to shake Doug’s. “That’s a mouthful, and besides, I’m retired from the marines. Just Aaron is fine.”
“Aaron, then,” agreed Doug. “Thank you for your service, sir. We especially welcome vets here in Whispering Pines. Your ice cream today is on me.”
“I—thank you,” said Aaron.
“So, you’re the well-blessed client who received Oscar as your service dog. Don’t tell the other dogs in Ruby’s program, but Oscar is my favorite.”
“He is?” Aaron asked, sounding somewhat taken aback.
Doug nodded and said, “Yes, sir. He is,” and patted Oscar on the head. “What’ll you have?” Doug asked.
“For Oscar and me, we’d like the usual,” Ruby said, smiling.
“You told me what Oscar likes, but what’s the usual for you?” Aaron asked, his expression curious.
“Double-scoop mint chocolate chip in a waffle cone, with extra whipped cream on top,” said Ruby.
Without missing a beat, Aaron said, “I’ll have the same.”
“Are you sure?” tempted Doug. “We have fifteen kinds to choose from. Granted, not as many as you might find in a larger town, but ours are especially homemade. Everything from the usual to our own unique flavors you won’t find anywhere else. Take a peek.” He gestured to the glass case.
Aaron took a moment to look over all the offerings and then said, “I’m sure. Mint chocolate chip is my favorite. I would have picked it even if Ruby had other tastes in ice cream.”
Hmm. Ruby would have taken him for more of a straight-up chocolate type of guy were she to have guessed, although she had no specific reason why she’d thought as much. To find they had this little thing in common—as ordinary and silly as sharing a favorite flavor of ice cream was—pleased her more than it probably should have.
“One for you,” he said, handing Ruby her waffle cone. “One for Aaron, and an exclusive dish for my favorite pooch, Oscar.”
“You weren’t kidding,” Aaron whispered as they slid into a booth, shaking his head as he lifted up Oscar’s whipped cream and a doggy treat in a bowl. “He really does have a special treat for the dog.”
“And Oscar knows it. Just look how nice he’s sitting.”
“Yeah. He’s staring at me as if he’s going to bite my nose if I don’t get busy and give him the treat,” he said with a chuckle. “Look at those eyes.”
He placed the bowl on the ground next to Oscar, and they each settled in and licked at their cones—or whipped cream in a dish with a doggy treat, as the case may be—completely silent for a minute, enjoying the cold ice cream on a warm day and just being together.
“So,” Ruby finally said, knowing how desperately she wanted to address this issue but not really wanting to hear the answer, “what are your plans for afterward?”
“You mean after this program is finished—assuming I pass?”
She nodded and reached out her free hand to cover his. “The program is finished, Aaron. There is no question whatsoever that you and Oscar passed with flying colors in every aspect. Even if you aren’t quite ready to admit it yet, you and Oscar are a great team, and you belong together.”
His gaze widened, but he didn’t smile in relief at learning he’d passed the course the way she’d expected him to or even make some under-his-breath comment about how he’d gotten stuck with a froufrou dog.
“That’s good... I guess.” He didn’t quite meet her gaze.
“You guess? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, yeah. I mean, I’m glad the test is over. Whew.” He made a big production of wiping his forehead with the back of his hand and flinging it to one side as if it had been covered with sweat. “I really, really don’t like exams.”
“Do you honestly have that bad of test anxiety?”
“You have no idea. There’s a reason I joined the marines right out of high school instead of going to college.”
“Well, I agree with you there. There are so many more career paths than just college,” she said. “I mean, it’s good for certain occupations but not necessarily for everything. My brother Frost never liked school, so he took care of the tree farm and our farm animals while Felicity used family savings to get her bachelor’s degree in farm and ranch management at Colorado State University. Frost didn’t need letters behind his name to be the best man for the job where the animals in our barn are concerned. His trials came through everyday life, and he’s succeeded beyond measure. I’ve never known anyone who cared for animals the way Frost does.”
“I thought I’d evaded written tests after the ASVAB—the Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery—which I had to take to be recruited in the first place. I studied so hard for that thing and was convinced I wouldn’t pass.”
“I’m assuming you did, given that you’ve spent your life in the marine corps.”
“I did better than I expected. But I still hate tests.”
“At least the final test you took today wasn’t in written form,” she said, squeezing his hand. “See, it could have been worse.”
“It could have been.” He smiled at her, and her heart warmed. “I wouldn’t say I completely bypassed exams by entering the marines. They had tests of their own, although most of them were practical in nature. There was a written exam that I sweat over the most. I think the only reason I passed was because I was actually interested in all things US Marine Corps, so it was easier for me to study. Still, I’ll take ten-mile hikes over written exams any day of the week.” He pa
used. “Well, at least I would have kept up with those long hikes if I’d have been able to stay deployed as I had planned. That’s kind of out of the question now, isn’t it?”
“You’ve had more than your share of trials lately, physical and otherwise,” she agreed. “And only one has been formal. I don’t even think the worst of it is what the world expects of you. You put far too much pressure on yourself.”
His gaze widened. “I never thought about it that way.”
“You should. And although you have a lot to look forward to in your future, I believe you should look back at the four weeks we’ve had together and realize how far you’ve come.” Her throat closed around the last words, and she had to fight to keep her emotions steady.
His jaw tightened and he shook his head. “I don’t want to look back anymore. I’ve spent far too much time doing that, and there’s no good to be had in it. Instead, I need to look forward and see what’s right in front of me and what’s to come.”
“That’s healthy. What do you see?” she asked, genuinely curious. “Do you have an idea in mind for what your immediate future looks like?”
He regarded her for a moment before nodding. “I might.”
“That sounds cryptic.”
He curled up one side of his lips. “I don’t really want to talk about it yet, at least not until it’s more of a sure thing.”
“I see.” She stared at him for a long time, but he didn’t elaborate.
She didn’t see, but she wished she did. After tomorrow, whatever he planned for his new life would be his own business, and he didn’t appear to want to share it with her. She probably wouldn’t even know what happened to him after he left, and that saddened her on many levels.
“But I’ll let you know as soon as I know,” he assured her.
She jumped in before she could talk herself out of it. “Although we never ended up using it, we exchanged phone numbers at the beginning of the program so I could get a hold of you if I needed to and vice versa. Would it be okay if I held on to your number and touched base with you from time to time?”