Page 6 of Puppy Love

“You said he was going to be tricky.”

Sophie walked through Oscar’s door at the Deer Park Department of Natural Resources without knocking. His office was a small, one-room affair used mostly for administrative purposes, but he could be found there almost around the clock during the wildfire off-season. The May weather was still damp enough to stave off most forest fires, so she knew he’d be in.

“Did I?” Oscar didn’t bother to look up from the stack of papers he was sorting on his desk. “I must have been in a good mood.”

“You said he had a tendency toward stubbornness.”

“From your tone, I’m guessing you disagree.”

“You said I should tread warily.”

“Actually, I believe my exact words were,you should wear a hazmat suit underneath a flak jacket, but you’ve always had more tact than I do.”

She clamped her lips and crossed her arms, stopping short of tapping her foot on the floor. It took a full twenty seconds for Oscar to give in and glance at her, but Sophie was nothing if not patient. It was the one virtue all good dog trainers needed.

When he did finally look up, it was with a wry twist to his smile. The heavy lines of the older man’s face were both familiar and friendly, but she knew better than to take the wire-rimmed glasses perched on the end of his nose and the bushy gray mustache as signs of a jolly, grandfatherly type. Oscar was as tough as they came.

He sighed and pulled the glasses off. “Oh dear. What did he do?”

Sophie lowered herself into the lone chair that was squeezed in the room with him. The DNR, as it was more affectionately known, was at least accommodating enough to give him one extra seat.

She could be accommodating where this man was concerned too. After all, she owed him her life.

“Let’s just say he decided to dispense with our services,” she said.

Oscar sighed again, this time with world-weary resignation, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “He stormed out the second he saw the dog, didn’t he?”

“Um.”

“Sophie?”

“Not exactly?” She frowned and picked at a hangnail. “I mean, he wasn’thappyabout Bubbles, but that wasn’t what ruined things. I, um, may have spoken to him in baby talk for a large portion of the time.”

Oscar’s entire body stilled. “I’m sorry?”

“It made sense at the time, I swear. He liked it.”

“He liked it? Harrison Parks—myHarrison Parks—let you whisper sweet nothings to him?”

“Theyweren’tsweet nothings,” she protested, hoping she didn’t sound nearly as foolish as she felt. “I was only trying to get him to relax a little. And I did too—he was smiling and everything. But then Lila came in and misunderstood, and, well…” She let her voice trail off.

Oscar was familiar enough with her sister to fill in the blanks. Sophie was afraid that he’d do that thing where he pinched his nose in dismay again, but all he did was fall into a crack of laughter. Well, that and reach into his desk drawer to extract a bottle of Wild Turkey and two mismatched glasses. He poured out a finger for each of them and pushed one across the crowded desktop.

She stared at it. “I don’t understand. What’s this for?”

“Because, my dear, you’ve earned it.”

She lifted the glass but didn’t sip. “I have? But I told you—he left.Withouta puppy.”

“You also told me that he smiled. That’s half the battle right there. Drink up.”

Sophie wasn’t much of a day drinker, but the memory of Harrison’s smile seemed deserving of a good toast. Following Oscar’s lead, she clinked her glass against his and took a generous sip. It burned and not in a good way, but she managed to swallow.

“Now.” Oscar leaned back in his chair, which creaked as his full weight sank in. “Why don’t you tell me exactly what happened? I should have been clearer about how difficult Harrison can be to work with. He’s a hell of a firefighter, but he’s not what you’d call a people person.”

“Oh, don’t worry—you were plenty up-front about that. What I don’t understand is why you didn’t tell me how nervous he is.”

Oscar sat up. “Nervous?”