Stephanie Bond by Baby Hold On

Author:Baby, Hold On [Baby, Hold On]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Contemporary
ISBN: 9781426847660
Publisher: Mira
Published: 2012-07-01T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Mike tried not to stare at Lacey, but he was so accustomed to eating alone, having her sitting across the dinner table enthusiastically eating chicken he’d grilled was a rather serious distraction. Her curly blond hair had mostly come loose from its ponytail holder, and floated around her face. She looked almost ethereal in the low light of the cabin. Under the table Sheridan lay curled on her small feet.

At the moment, his dog seemed like the smartest male in the room.

“This tastes so good,” she repeated.

“You’re easy to please,” he said, then bit his tongue. It seemed as if everything he’d said since they’d returned from their walk came out sounding like a double entendre.

“Actually, I’ve become very picky about corn bread since I moved here, and this is the best I’ve eaten.” She took another wedge from the pan.

“Every soldier can make corn bread…and pancakes.”

Her eyes lit up. “I love pancakes.”

“I appreciate a woman with an appetite,” he said, then bit his tongue again.

She laughed, then pushed away her empty plate and patted her mouth daintily with a napkin. “So, educate me—what is Sheridan’s specialty?”

“He’s a tracker.”

“Aren’t all SAR dogs trackers?”

“Generally speaking. But ‘tracker’ is a specific term in the field. Area dogs track a scent over a large zone. Trailing dogs work in a group—they usually pick up where the area dogs leave off. And trackers follow a scent footstep by footstep.”

“It sounds like the hardest job.”

“I wouldn’t say the hardest, but definitely the most meticulous. Good trackers are rare.”

She nodded. “Is Sheridan trained to detect certain scents?”

“No. To a tracker, a scent is a scent. Give him a sample, and if it’s in the vicinity, he’ll find it. He’s received several commendations for service,” Mike said. He pulled out his cell phone, punched buttons to bring up a photo slideshow and handed it across the table. “These are some of the missions we’ve been on the past couple of years.” She pored over the pictures and asked him questions about each one. He proudly relayed Sheridan’s accomplishments.

She held up the phone to show the picture of a woman who’d been trapped in a collapsed building for three days before being removed from the rubble. “I saw this on TV—this was you and Sheridan?”

“Mostly Sheridan,” he assured her. “He’s in high demand. It’s only pure luck he hasn’t been called up lately. I dread that day if he isn’t better.” The knot in his stomach tightened at the mere thought.

“How did you find Sheridan in the first place?”

Mike smiled at the memory. “In the pound. Handlers go to animal shelters sometimes looking for good SAR candidates. Some of the traits that make a dog a high-maintenance pet are the same traits that make it a good SAR dog.”

“Such as?”

“Too much energy—the need for constant attention and play. To an SAR dog, finding something or someone is really just a game—they work for the reward at the end, which is praise and a treat.”

She held up the phone again.

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