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“Are you out of your mind?” Blondie/Amanda’s voice hit a fresh new pitch.
The kid frowned uncertainly. “Doggie bite me.”
“My God,” said the mayor. “Shall I call an ambulance?”
“Doggie did not bite you,” said Ethan to the boy. “You fell down.” He looked at the blonde woman, fighting to ignore the mayor’s attempt at escalation. “Has he been bitten in the past?”
“Yes,” she said.
“No,” said her friend, with a slight eye-roll. Some of her nervousness seemed to have abated.
The blonde woman lifted her chin. “He could have been. Last week at the park, a strange dog came up and snatched the sandwich right out of his hand. Scared the crap out of us both. No owner in sight, of course.”
“Georgie gave it to him,” said brown pony-tail. “He actually walked over to where the dog was hiding and handed it over.”
“His teeth touched my child’s hand, didn’t they?”
“Come on, Amanda. There wasn’t even a mark.”
“Unacceptable,” said Calloway with an emphatic head nod. “Dogs should never be running at large. I’ll have Animal Control look into it immediately.”
Not a justification for Amanda’s over-the-top reaction, but Ethan admitted grudgingly that it may have sensitized her.
“These doggies are very friendly, I promise.”
Little George scrambled out of his mother’s arms onto the grass to stand next to a pair of tow-headed kids of similar size. There was a third, smaller one in a stroller, sleeping peacefully through the mini-catastrophe.
“Get back here, Georgie.”
But the boy easily evaded his mother’s grasp.
“Good doggies, Mama.” He shoved out his lower lip, emphasizing the familial resemblance.
He and the other kids eyed the dogs from across the grass with avid interest.
The only ones who seemed traumatized were the mothers.
Make that mother, singular. Only Blondie was really upset.
And if she’d already had an alarming experience, he couldn’t really blame her. Also, while Gun hadn’t harmed the child, he hadn’t been completely under Ethan’s control, either.
“This is an unsafe situation,” said Calloway.
“I know!” said Amanda.
“It’s not,” said Ethan, praying Gun wouldn’t break. The kid danced closer to the dogs. Every line in Gun’s body indicated how badly he wanted to play with this small human, but he kept an eye on his master and stayed in position.
“Good boys,” he murmured, gesturing for them to remain down. “Good stay.”
Amanda gave up chasing her son, turned back to Ethan and crossed her arms. “We shouldn’t have to be afraid to take our children to the park.”
Arguing the finer points with her was hardly the way to improve his social standing in the community.
“You’re absolutely right about that, ma’am.” He squatted down on the grass to be at eye level with the so-called traumatized child. “Maybe you can meet them another time, okay, buddy?”
The blonde woman sniffed. The kid looked more curious than anything.
The brown-haired woman glanced at her. “No real harm done then, right Amanda? Well, we should be going then.”
“If anyone should leave-” began Calloway.
Ethan straightened up and held out his hand to the brown-haired woman, cutting off Calloway’s comment. “We haven’t been properly introduced. I’m Ethan Nash. Those are my dogs, Ashur, Mars and Gun.”
Both womn looked from his hand to his face, and back again, as if not comprehending his words. It was almost humorous, watching small town courtesy wage war with unfounded suspicion.
Finally, the brown-haired one reached out.
“Sherry Hagerson,” said Calloway, before the woman could speak. “And those little cuties are Nicole and Hannah.”
“Anna,” said Sherry.
“Right, Anna,” said Calloway, with another of his too-wide smiles. “Nash, those dogs should be leashed.”
The blonde woman’s lips were tight. She kept her hands firmly on the stroller. “Amanda Frankel. George, my three-year-old, and the baby, Rosie.”
