But before she could finish, Matt found his voice. “That’s my dog. I mean—for now. I’m just taking care of her. Her name is Rosita. My mom was going to talk to you about her . . .”
Ric fixed a hard stare on Matt. Matt’s insides churned and he thought he felt his blood actually freeze in his veins.
He was starting to see what Luisa meant about her dad being slightly stern.
“I see,” Ric finally said. He released Scout and put his hands under Rosita’s armpits. He held her up and inspected her with a critical look in his eye. He was holding her face close to his when Rosita’s tongue darted out of her mouth and licked Ric’s nose with a quick slurp.
Matt fought to keep a straight face. At his side, he felt Luisa shaking with barely contained laughter. Ric handed the dog to Matt and wiped his nose on the sleeve of his camo jacket.
Ric looked from Matt to Luisa and back again, locking his eyes on Matt’s.
“This dog’s stay on my base is entirely conditional upon her behavior. If she’s not trained, she goes. We can’t have dogs running around here. It’s not safe.”
“Yes, sir,” Matt said. “I’m sorry, sir.”
“Keep her on a leash, son.” Without waiting for a reply, Ric turned stiffly on his heel and walked away.
The minute he was gone, Luisa groaned. “That was close.”
“Too close,” Matt said. “But on the upside, at least we don’t have to hide her from your dad?”
“True, but you heard him. If we’re going to get my parents to love Rosita, she’s going to have to be really well trained.”
“Yeah. I got that impression.”
“If she has an owner, she’ll probably have some training, right?” Luisa asked.
“Hopefully,” Matt replied. “But we’re going to have to see what she knows—”
“And teach her what she doesn’t,” Luisa finished. “We can train her on the field behind the mess hall. Tomorrow morning. We start at oh seven hundred hours.”
“Copy that, Colonel.”
10
THE SUN WAS BARELY UP, but the base was already empty and quiet as Matt and Luisa began Operation Train Rosita. Nearly all the troops were out on assignment. They passed a lone soldier, who smiled at the sight of the tiny, odd-looking dog on the end of Scout’s very long leash. Rosita wore one of Scout’s old collars, which was huge around her little neck.
“She doesn’t seem to be hurting after all that running last night,” Matt said. “That’s good.”
“Dr. Correa said she needs to get some exercise. It’ll help her get stronger, but that was probably a little too much. She’s supposed to take it kind of easy.”
Rosita didn’t seem to be concerned about the doctor’s orders. She tugged on the leash, walking as far ahead of them as it would allow her to. Scout stuck close to her side, slowing down when she did and waiting patiently when she stopped to sit down and rest, panting, every now and then.
“He’s so sweet to her,” Luisa said.
“He’s a little overprotective.” Matt laughed.
“He’s looking out for her, that’s all.”
They watched the dogs walk—Rosita bobbing up and down on her short legs in an uneven but determined gait, Scout with his long, lean body trotting along in relaxed, perfect, athletic rhythm. They reached the field and Matt, Scout, and Luisa stopped. Rosita kept ambling ahead until the leash was pulled tight and she couldn’t go any farther. She plopped down and rolled herself around on the grass, tangling herself up in her leash.
“Rosita, come!” Matt called out, making his voice sound extra positive and encouraging.
Rosita looked over her shoulder at him, as if she were trying to be sure she’d heard him correctly.
“Rosita,” Matt repeated. “Come!”
Rosita stood up and turned to face him.
She sat down.
Matt and Luisa burst out laughing.
“It’s a start,” Matt said.
“You trained Scout, right?”
“Sort of,” Matt said. “He was trained when he moved in with us, but he couldn’t really focus. He was all over the place—a little nervous and a lot stubborn. So I worked with him to get him to listen to me. But I also had to learn how to command him the right way.”
“What do you mean? Isn’t a command a command?”
“Nope. It’s not just what you say but how you say it.” Matt put a hand on his belly. “You have to speak from here. And you have to really mean it. Not in an angry way—in a convincing way.”
“Can you do it with Rosita?”
“I can try.” Matt studied the small, scruffy dog with the ears pointing off in different directions, her dark fur sticking out all over. Her steady gaze was on him. Matt walked back to Luisa, while Rosita stayed where she was. “Do you have those treats?”
Luisa dropped one small nugget into his palm.
“There’s one thing,” she said.
“What’s that?”
“I don’t think Rosita speaks English.”
“Duh.” Matt felt silly for not realizing that sooner. “But . . . I don’t know commands in Spanish.”
“It’s easy. Ven means ‘come.’ Siéntate means ‘sit.’”
Matt took a deep breath and exhaled. “Rosita,” he said, his voice kind but firm. Her ears flicked in his direction, and she tipped her head slightly to the side. She was paying a different kind of attention now. “Rosita, ven.”
She blinked at him once. Twice. Then she hopped to her little feet and pranced toward him, her tongue hanging out of her mouth and her tail sticking straight up in the air.
“Good girl!” Matt said. He held the treat out between his fingers. Rosita sniffed at it, weighing her options, seemingly gauging whether Matt was serious about this offer or not. Then she gently, delicately took it between her teeth and tugged it from his hand.
“She did it!” Luisa said. “¡Muy bien, Rosita!” She crouched down and gave Rosita a good scratch on her ribs. Luisa looked the happiest that Matt had ever seen her. Rosita sniffed for treats in Luisa’s pocket. Luisa pulled out a few and placed them on her palm for Rosita to eat.
Rosita gently nosed Luisa’s hand, picking up each and every treat, then licking Luisa’s palm over and over, like she was giving Luisa a bath. Luisa giggled. “Oh, Rosita, thank you! Ready to get back to work?” Rosita wagged her tail.
They ran through the command a few times, and Rosita nailed it over and over.
“Let’s try it without the leash,” Matt suggested.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Luisa looked nervous as Matt unhooked the leash from Rosita’s collar.
“I think she knows better now, don’t you, Rosita?” The dog cocked her head. “See? She agrees.”
“If you say so,” Luisa said.
“Do you want to try a command?”
“Sure.” Luisa looked down at Rosita and took out a treat. Rosita spotted the tiny bit of food. Her eyebrows shot up and she took a couple of excited steps backward, yipping at Luisa in a croaky voice.
“From here.” Matt gestured at his gut. Luisa nodded.
“Rosita,” she said, her voice strong, “siéntate.”
But Rosita didn’t have time to respond.
Matt felt the ground vibrating before he heard the sound. It was a familiar sensation—he’d spent his entire life on a military base and could practically tell what make and model truck was turning the corner and rumbling in their direction.
Scout’s ears twitched at the sound. He was otherwise unfazed.
But not Rosita. She wasn’t used to giant double-axle trucks carrying heavy equipment lumbering toward her. Her whole body went taut, and her eyes grew huge with fear. The fur on her tail stuck out and she spun around to see the truck, barking and growling like she was facing off against a wild animal.
Matt knew what she was about to do.
“Rosita!” he called out in a warning tone, taking a step toward the dog.
“No . . . don’t do it, Rosita
!” Luisa pleaded.
Scout barked and positioned himself between Rosita and the truck, which was still a good distance away.
But Rosita was spooked. With a round of frantic barks, she bolted in the opposite direction of the truck, past Matt and Luisa, toward the base’s main gate. She stopped only long enough to frantically paw at her collar, slipping her neck out of it, then dashed off again.
“Rosita!” Luisa cried, her voice high-pitched and strained. “No! Get back here! ¡Ven! ¡Ven, Rosita!” She took off running after the dog, but like the night before, being chased just made Rosita run faster. Luisa slowed to a walk and watched helplessly as Rosita disappeared behind a building. She picked up Rosita’s collar and buried her head in her hands. Scout shot past her like a bullet—racing after Rosita.
Everything had just gone from bad to worse.
11
“SCOUT—STOP!” Matt shouted. “Come back!” Scout skidded to a halt and reluctantly, with a long look toward the spot where Rosita had disappeared, turned and trotted back toward them. Just like Scout, Matt’s every instinct was to run after Rosita as fast as he could, but he knew that wasn’t a good idea. They didn’t know which direction she had gone or whether she had already made it out the front gate and onto the main road. Scout would be able to keep up with her, but Matt and Luisa would never be able to keep up with him. And Matt didn’t want his dog out there on his own.
Slowly, the reality of the situation dawned on Matt.
This was bad. Really, really bad.
This wasn’t just about whether or not Rosita could live with Luisa and her family. This was about whether the dog got injured again or lost. If that happened . . .
“Luisa, I’m so sorry,” Matt said, sounding as miserable as he felt.
“It’s not your fault.”
“Of course it’s my fault. I’m the one who took the leash off her. I’m the one who told you it would be okay to bring her here in the first place—”
“And I’m the one who didn’t take her back to the shelter because I was afraid of my parents,” Luisa said, cutting him off. “Not you.”
Matt clamped his mouth shut. He hadn’t thought about that, or about how Luisa might be feeling. “You couldn’t have known that she was going to bolt.”
“Exactly. And neither could you. Right?”
He exhaled. “Right.”
Scout looked from Matt to Luisa and back again as they talked. Matt dropped his hand to Scout’s head and ran his fingers through his dog’s silky fur. It helped him think clearly.
Don’t focus on the mistakes, was what his dad would say. Focus on the mission. But what was the mission?
“I know what we need to do,” Luisa said. It was like she was reading his thoughts. “There’s a reason this keeps happening.”
“A reason?”
“Yes. There’s a reason Rosita keeps running off. I think this dog wants to go home—back to her owner. And there’s nothing we can do to stop her.”
Matt knew Luisa was right, but somehow he didn’t feel any better.
“Okay,” he conceded. “But still, if she gets off base, if she’s on the street . . .”
Matt didn’t have to finish the sentence. Luisa understood better than he did what was at stake for Rosita.
“We have to go after her,” Luisa said with a grim nod. “And make sure she gets to where she wants to go.”
Matt saw a flicker of sadness cross Luisa’s face. He knew how hard it was for her to even consider giving up the dog she loved so much. And though they’d only met a short time ago, he already knew Luisa well enough to know that she would never let that stop her from doing what was right.
She collected herself. “But the island is a wreck,” she said, “and we have no idea which direction Rosita’s going, or if she even knows where she’s going. So. Where do we start?”
Suddenly, Matt’s misery lifted. That was where they had the advantage. Rosita could outsmart them, but she could never outsmart Scout’s nose.
They wouldn’t chase her—they would track her.
“We start with this.” Matt took Rosita’s collar from Luisa’s hand. It was the perfect scent item. “And that guy.” He pointed at Scout, who sat with his head high, his ears on point, his eyes gleaming.
Scout barked impatiently. He was already on the case—and ready to find his friend.
Matt and Luisa ran back home for supplies. Matt filled his backpack with water bottles, snacks, kibble, and a flashlight. He scanned the fridge, which was empty except for a squeeze bottle of mustard, a loaf of bread, and a family pack of sliced ham. He snatched up the ham and tossed it into the pack.
He grabbed Scout’s K-9 vest from its spot by the front door and ran outside to meet Luisa.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Ready.”
Matt slipped the reflective vest over Scout’s head and pulled it taut around his puffed-out chest, buckling it snugly underneath. He looked down at his brave, smart dog, who had saved so many lives—Matt’s sister and father, his best friends, and even Matt himself. He looked up at his new friend Luisa, whose face was filled with determination to find the dog she had saved once before.
Matt couldn’t have imagined two better partners for this mission.
He held Rosita’s collar under Scout’s nose. Scout sniffed it once, twice, again. When he was done, he sat down and locked eyes with Matt, waiting for his next command.
Matt beamed at Scout.
“Scout, search! Find Rosita.”
12
SCOUT HAD LOCKED ON TO ROSITA’S SCENT, and he was in a hurry.
He beelined off the base and made a right, in the opposite direction from the shelter. Luisa and Matt had to double-time it to keep up. When Scout looked back every few minutes to make sure they were following him, Matt was pretty sure he saw an impatient look in the dog’s eyes.
Matt knew Scout was just as worried about Rosita as he and Luisa were. Dogs were usually pretty quick to make friends with each other, but Scout and Rosita’s relationship felt different. They had bonded so quickly—they were like a big brother and little sister.
The road began to narrow, and they passed through a small residential area with more houses than stores. Soon they were on an isolated stretch of road, with no buildings at all, just thick trees. Morning birds chirped in the trees.
Scout’s nose grazed the ground as he ran. Every so often, he raised his head and sniffed at the air, then dropped it back down again to keep tabs on Rosita’s scent. He showed no signs of slowing down.
“How does it work?” Luisa asked. “When he smells the collar?”
“The scent item?”
“Yeah. The scent item. Like, how does he know to find that exact smell? Can’t dogs smell a million things at the same time?”
Matt laughed. “Not quite a million, but yeah, a lot. People can smell about a hundred things at once, but dogs can smell like ten thousand or so.”
“‘Or so’?” Luisa’s jaw hung open. “But what does Scout do with them all?”
“He . . . sorts them, I guess you could say.”
“And he can find the one scent you want him to find?”
“Yeah.” Matt knew how impossible that sounded. “It’s sort of gross, but we’re kind of like a walking snowstorm—except the ‘snow’ is made of microscopic flakes of our skin. They’re called rafts, and they’re on all our clothes and float off our bodies and fall on the ground. And every one of us has a specific smell. So he smells Rosita’s scent on her collar and then he can separate that from the other nine thousand nine hundred ninety-nine, and he picks it up and follows it.”
“And he just ignores all the other scents?”
“He’s trained to stay focused on that single one. So basically, if you need to find someone fast, Scout is better than a dozen people.”
“Have you had him since he was a puppy?”
“No. He was a stray when he was a puppy. Well, first he was in a dog-fighting ring, actually.”
Luisa sucked in her breath. “That’s awful.”
“But then he was rescued by the most famous K-9 search-and-rescue dog in Mississippi and trained to be a police dog.”
“So what was that thing your mom said about wanting to send him back?”
Matt recalled the day Scout had arrived, scared and defiant, at the Reno airport in a crate. “He was picked to be on my mom’s National Guard K-9 team, but she didn’t think he could do the job and she didn’t want to keep him.”
“I can’t imagine Scout not being able to do any job,” Luisa said. “Look at him—he’s amazing. So why didn’t she send him back?”
“I convinced her not to. There was something different about him. Something she wasn’t seeing, but I saw it.” Matt smiled. “And then Scout saved my life. Like, more times than I can count. Plus, he saved my friends and my dad and my sister. He’s just . . .” Matt searched for the right words. “He’s not like anyone I’ve ever met. He’s so much better and braver and more loyal than anyone could ever be.”
Luisa sighed and gestured toward the road ahead—the road they were following to find the dog she loved. “I think I might have some idea what you mean.”
They walked on in silence. Matt breathed in the dampness and the smell of dirt and trees that filled the air and seemed to be coming out of the ground they walked on.
“Dogs can travel crazy far to get back home,” Matt said after a little while.
“Yeah, I know,” Luisa said. “But if that’s what Rosita is doing, then that’s a good thing.”
“How so?”
“Because if she’s willing to travel that far, it means there’s someone she really loves,” Luisa said simply. “And there’s someone who really loves and misses her.”
She was right. That didn’t stop Matt from feeling a sharp pang at the thought of not seeing Rosita anymore, but he took comfort in the idea of her reuniting with her people.
She deserved that.
13
THE PATH ANGLED SLIGHTLY DOWNHILL, and a small cluster of houses appeared in the distance. As they drew nearer, Matt’s feet began to slip. The pavement was muddy. Soon, his feet weren’t slipping anymore—they were submerged in dark, dirty water up to his shins—and the road wasn’t a road at all. It was a river, with houses rising out of it on either side. Scout’s nose skimmed the surface as he tried to keep hold of Rosita’s scent on the water.
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