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Elizabeth Neff Walker - Puppy Love
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PUPPY LOVE
Elizabeth Neff Walker
Chapter One
"Listen, Molly," Rob said. "This is important."
"To you or me?" Molly asked, cocking her head at him. She had known Rob Halston for almost a year, and not once had he spoken to her of his own free will.
His black stallion backed away, as restless as his rider. Molly's own horse, Cinders, stood calmly at the crossing of the trails where the two riders had met. Molly had thought, at first, that their meeting was accidental. Now, she doubted that.
"The sheriff said I had to talk to you," Rob said. His gray eyes narrowed against the glare of the late September sunshine. Or maybe they narrowed because it pained him to speak with her.
"Sheriff Moore?" Molly frowned. "What about?"
"Jasper." Rob said his dog's name with a certain bluster.
Molly shook her head of short black curls. "I'm not surprised. Your dog is a menace, Rob."
Rob's face set stubbornly. "There's nothing wrong with Jasper. He wouldn't hurt a fly."
"That's hard to tell, when he charges everything in sight, growling and barking." Molly shifted in her saddle. Down the trail she could see the bright yellow aspens that marked the start of his property. "I hear he frightened one of your paying guests so badly she nearly had a heart attack."
"What nonsense," he muttered. He raked his sandy hair back with strong fingers, meeting her mild gaze with a determined scowl. "She's one of those emotional types whose heart pounds from hearing a car backfire."
Molly knew that wasn't likely. Most of Rob's paying guests at the ranch were adventurous types, the sort of city people who loved to be cowboys and cowgirls for a few days. But they also liked having the hot springs to soak their aching limbs each evening.
"So how did the sheriff get involved?" she asked.
He sighed. "Mrs. Smith went to him complaining about Jasper. She said the dog attacked her. All he did was bark a little."
"Jasper never barks just a little." Molly had had several run-ins with Jasper herself. Molly's cabin, with the kennels nearby, was tempting to the overgrown puppy. "Jasper's big, he's unruly, he snarls, and most people would think he was going to bite them, given half a chance."
"He's never bitten anyone," Rob insisted. "He just likes to make a big show of protecting his turf."
"Get real, Rob." Molly grinned at her handsome neighbor's discomfort. "Jasper doesn't just guard your land. Everyone in this valley has had him storm their cattle and horses, their dogs and their kids. He's a menace."
Rob's lips curved into a reluctant smile. "Yeah, so the sheriff said. Why didn't anyone tell me?"
This was not the first time Molly had noticed how sexy his smile was. "Because," she said, after a short pause, "they all like you and they don't want to offend you. And they all thought you knew very well what Jasper does, since he does it at Halston Ranch, too."
"He's just a puppy."
Molly rolled her eyes. "A sixty pound puppy, Rob. With some very bad habits. And he's an Alaskan Malamute. He looks like a wolf."
"That's not his fault. That's the way he's supposed to look."
"I know, but he's going to get in trouble if he doesn't develop some manners. Did Sheriff Moore want me to train him?"
"Yes," Rob admitted. "In fact he said if I didn't get you to agree, he was going to give me a ticket. He said it didn't matter if Jasper didn't actually bite Mrs. Smith. He said Jasper was out of control and would sooner or later cause some real harm if he wasn't taken in hand."
There was nothing Rob Halston wanted less, Molly knew, than to have to ask a favor or her. She sat her horse patiently. There was no way she was going to make it easier by offering her services.
The black horse tossed his head and stamped his feet. A nerve jumped in Rob's jaw.
"So, will you train Jasper?" he asked, his gray eyes fierce. "Sheriff Moore said you're the best trainer in the area, now that Tom's gone. But he said your charges are a little steep."
Molly laughed. "As if you'd have any trouble paying my charges, even if I doubled them. Which I might, seeing as Jasper is such a hard case. If it were easy to break him of his bad habits, I'' sure you'' have done it yourself."
"I haven't got the time to work with him," Rob said.
"Then I can't help you," Molly replied, giving her inky black horse a slight nudge with her right knee. Cinders obediently turned away from the other horse and rider.
Rob's face darkened. "What do you mean? You have to train him, Molly. I don't want Moor to ticket me. You get a couple of those tickets and they make you put the dog down."
"Not unless he harms someone," she said. "They'll just fine you until that happens."
"It's not going to happen."
"I hope, for both of your sakes, that it doesn't." Molly pushed her blue and white bandanna further up her forehead. "But a wild puppy can become a bully of an adult dog. I've seen it too many times to believe it won't happen with Jasper."
"Why won't you train him, then?" he asked.
"Because I can't do it alone. I have to have an owner involved in the training." Molly shrugged at his disbelieving look. "You can't drop Jasper off and come back in a week to pick up an obedient animal."
Rob's brows lowered over stormy eyes. "How much time would it take?"
"Who knows? I've had owners spend a couple hours a day working with me and their dogs. Jasper's going to be really hard."
"How do you know that?"
"Rob, the dog spends half his time at my place." Molly frowned. "I've taught him what manners I could, but they don't seem to work when he goes back home."
A touch of color stained Rob's cheeks. "I had no idea he came over to the cabin," he said stiffly. "I'll see that he doesn't do it any more."
Molly's green eyes sparkled with impish delight. "Oh, sure. Dogs like Jasper are so easily chained up." She shook her head. "The best thing you could do for him would be to give him away, Rob. To someone who has the time to train him properly. Otherwise he's going to become a real liability."
"I like him. I plan to keep him."
"Fine." This time she urged Cinders forward with her knees and didn't turn back. "Good luck."
Chapter Two
Rob was mad as spit. Nothing made him as made as being wrong. And he knew he was wrong about Jasper. Of course the dog had to be trained. Of course Rob would have to spend the time training him, with or without Molly Bishop. And of course he'd be stupid to try to train the dog without Molly Bishop's help.
But he didn't want to spend time with her. Sure, she was pretty and she had a great figure. And her energy and humor were bewitching. But she was his enemy. From the day Molly had come to claim Joel's cabin and land, Rob had wanted nothing to do with her. What right did a stranger have to Joel's land?
Joel had been his best friend. When Joel died of cancer, alone, at the hospice a hundred miles away, Rob could not bear to think of it. He would have gone to be there if Joel had told him how close the end was.
Rob thought it must be like having a brother die. He and Joel had spent the best part of their growing up years together, talking, laughing. Each time he rode near Joel's cabin, Rob felt his loss almost as though it were new.
Molly was someone he'd never even heard of when she arrived in their Western Montana valley. Her inheriting Joel's cabin had made him suspicious. What had she done to deserve such a reward? Why hadn't Joel told him about her?
Rob suspected that Molly had influenced his friend when Joel was in the hospice and too weak to resist. But that was only part of his reason for disliking Molly. The property, right next to his own, meant a great deal to him for many reasons. When Rob offered her a fair pr
ice for the cabin and the land, Molly refused to sell.
Annoyed, as he always was when he thought about it, Rob urged his horse into a canter. Together man and beast raced past the red sumac bushes along the trail to clatter across the wooden bridge onto Halston Ranch property.
The large timber ranchhouse sat on rising ground, overlooking a pond that sparkled in the afternoon sunlight. Split rail fences neatly marked off the pasture from the yard, the horse corral from the barn. Rob had lived here all his life.
Five years ago he had turned the property into a guest house. It had been Joel's suggestion. Halston Ranch was small as ranches went, but its hot springs and horseback riding drew more than enough visitors.
From the start Rob had made a profit. Joel had told him that he would. Joel had been the wise, shy one of the two of them, Rob the rash, friendly one. They'd neatly balanced one another. Ever since Joel's death, Rob had felt a little off center.
So it hadn't helped when Molly Bishop arrived that she was pretty, and smart, and level-headed.
The scene in front of Rob suddenly exploded from peaceful to frantic. An animal darted from the bushes, nipping at his horse's feet, startling the stallion. Rob had been deep in thought, paying little heed to his riding. When Charger bolted sideways, Rob found himself very nearly thrown from his saddle.
With an effort he controlled the startled horse, holding firmly to the reins and gripping Charger's sides with his legs. The horse stamped and blew angry puffs of breath from his nostrils. His eyes rolled until Rob stroked his neck and murmured calm words.
When peace was finally restored, he frowned down at Jasper, his Alaskan Malamute puppy.
The dog looked very pleased with himself. His bright brown eyes were shining. His tongue lolled out in happy tiredness. Jasper was the picture of a proud, satisfied animal.
Rob knew he had no choice but to beg Molly Bishop to train his dog.
Molly was sitting on the front steps of her cabin, drinking a cup of hot coffee, when she heard the sound of hoofbeats. She shaded her eyes against the morning sun and made out Rob Halston on his black horse just starting up the drive. The dog Jasper trotted along beside them.
Before horse and rider reached her, Jasper raced ahead to greet Molly. He was a loving dog, at least, she reminded herself. Malamutes were known to be wonderful for romping with their human companions.
They also were known to be stubborn and difficult to train. And Malamutes not properly trained became aggressive. The key was to train the dog young. And Jasper, though still a puppy, was probably eight months old. A real challenge.
Rob dismounted and tied his horse's reins to the fence along the drive. He wore his standard outfit of jeans and a plaid flannel shirt. Molly found that he was taller than she had thought, probably close to six feet. She took a sip of coffee as he approached her.
"If you'll train him, I'll spend up to an hour a day here," Rob said as he stopped a short way from her. Then, almost unhappily, "More, if it's really necessary."
Molly set her coffee cup down and stood up. "Malamutes get really hard to work with after they're ten months old. Do you know how old Jasper is?"
"The family who gave him to me said he was six months. That was two, two-and-a-half months ago."
"Why did they give him to you?"
Rob looked rueful. "They said he wasn't much of a town dog. My guess is they couldn't break him of his bad habits."
The sun caught the blond highlights in his sandy brown hair. He looked so handsome that Molly looked away. Reaching down to pet Jasper, she said, "All right. Do you want to start now?"
"If that's okay with you."
She offered a careless shrug and led him to the kennel.
Chapter Three
Molly had made the kennel out of a small, weathered barn. At any given time, she was borading three or four dogs and often as many cats. The cow was gone, but the horse Cinder occupied the last remaining stall.
Because the kennel wasn't far from her cabin, she could hear barking dogs and howling cats throughout the day. But the barn made a comfortable kennel, and she was proud of having worked on it herself.
"Joel just kept the cow and horse here, before he got sick," Rob said as he followed her into the barn.
"I know. He told me all about his home," she replied.
Rob looked at her suspiciously, but she didn't explain. He followed her into the tack room. It was now crowded with grooming materials-combs and brushes and shampoos, a hair dryer, and other tools of the trade.
His brows rose in disbelief. "Are there really people around here who get their pets groomed."
"Sure. You're forgetting that half the valley's been claimed by 'foreigners.' All those movie stars and bestselling authors want their pets to have the very best."
Rob snorted.
Molly held up a picture of an orange-colored tiny French poodle with blue ribbons in her hair. "This is Fifi. Not only do I groom her. I show her."
"Like at dog shows?" Rob shook his head. "Seems a waste of time to me."
She shrugged. "There's money in it. And in breeding dogs. That's what I plan to do next."
"What kind of dogs?"
"I haven't decided yet." Molly set the picture aside and reached up to a hook on the wall. She chose several items and set them along with a can on the countertop.
"These are what we'll need, a six foot leather leash, a jeweled training collar, and a shake can."
The jeweled collar was really made from small metal links welded close together. Molly said that it was the best kind to use because it was the strongest.
Rob looked doubtful. "You mean we're going to choke him?"
"Of course not," she said, indignant. "You give it a tug to correct the dog. If the collar is put on right, it merely tightens around his neck and releases. I'll show you how to do it."
Molly carried the training equipment outside and set it down on a weathered bench. Jasper had followed them at Molly's command and now he sat down beside the bench.
"You have to form a letter P, with the free ring hanging from the right side of Jasper's neck." Molly showed him how to do it, then removed the collar and handed it to Rob. "Try it."
Rob fumbled with the metal chain and ended up with the ring hanging on the left side of Jasper's neck. With a tsk of annoyance he removed it and tried again, with the same results.
"Remember you're backwards of me," Molly said. "Stand behind me and watch."
When he was behind her, she had the odd feeling that his concentration was not on the metal chain. He cleared his throat and reached around her to remove the chain from Jasper. This time he did it right. "What's the can for?" he asked. "It's a shake can, to get Jasper's attention." Molly gave the coda can a brisk shake, making the pennies rattle loudly inside. Jasper immediately cocked his head in her direction. "Puppies are easily distracted," she explained. As are puppies' owners, she almost added when he went on staring at her. Rob gave himself a shake and watched as she showed him how to work with the dog. He was quick to pick up her system of corrections and rewards. Molly could see his fondness for the dog. What she also saw was the way he used his hands. They were large, work-roughened hands with long, strong fingers. Rob used his hands to correct Jasper with the collar, and he used them to show his approval when the dog responded. Molly could scarcely take her eyes from his hands when Rob stroked the dog's head, or patted Jasper's flanks. His touch by turns calmed, rewarded, and encouraged the dog.
Molly refused to think about what his touch would do to her.
Rob's patience surprised Molly. She had learned to think of him as hot-headed and restless. She had not thought he could channel his drive into something more useful.
When he saw her watching him, his eyes met hers with a question in them. "Am I doing something wrong?" he asked.
Molly felt herself flush. "Not at all. You work very well with Jasper."
"I've worked with horses all my life," he said. "But never a dog. All our dogs seemed to come
well trained."
"They probably grew up on ranches. Jasper didn't." Molly called Jasper to her and released him from the training collar. "That will be enough for today, Rob. Leave him with me, though. He needs to spend time with the other dogs."
Rob nodded absently. "Should I pick him up later?"
"I'm sure he'll find his way home," Molly said dryly.
"I…um…I want to thank you for doing this," he said. "Maybe you'd like to come over and use the hot springs pool."
Molly's back stiffened. "You don't have to reward me. This is my job. I'm glad of the work."
Rob's eyes flashed. "I wasn't rewarding you. I was trying to thank you. Maybe should learn to reject an invitation more gracefully."