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twenty-two
“Humphrey’s not trainable as a service dog,” Pete explained, “but he also doesn’t have to be. If Rhett had the effect on him that you described, then they already have a synergy I don’t need to mess with.”
“Slow down,” Sunny panted. She leaned forward, hands on her knees, and drew cold air into her already gassed lungs. “God, I hate running.” She stood up, hands pressed to the small of her back, and arched into her palms. “How can you talk so much?”
“Quit being a baby. You can ride that bike all day long, but you can’t run a few miles?”
“I repeat. I hate running. I don’t have the legs for it.” Sunny extended one leg and pointed her toes.
Pete blew off her comment with a smirk. He swiped some sweat from his forehead with the back of his sleeve. He had about two weeks’ worth of a beard now, which Sunny hadn’t realized he was growing until this moment. “So this guy must be okay, if Humphrey likes him.”
“He seems like the real deal.” Sunny bent down to tie her shoe. The trails were wet and muddy from melted snow. She drew a deep breath to calm her lungs. The air smelled like a fireplace. “Though Cici said he acted weird about Humphrey. Well, she didn’t use the wordweird. She said he ‘retreated.’ Didn’t want to even consider taking him home. Cici thinks he was having a panic attack, but he would never admit it.”
Pete watched her tie her shoe, then nodded toward the trail, to indicate he’d be starting up again. “It might not have been the dog. Or not just the dog.”
“What do you mean?” Sunny was relieved when Pete started at a fast trot, not a run.
“That woman at the party—” Pete glanced over his shoulder “—was way out of line. The way she talked to him. About the medication and the spiders. If she were a man, I’d want to punch her in the face.” He jumped over a felled tree with a quick little hop.
“I’ll punch her in the face for you.” Sunny climbed over the log, then pushed after Pete, who was picking up the pace. She’d never noticed how muscular his calves were until she ran behind him and watched him navigate the rocky trails with ease.
“Whatever Rhett is going through,” Pete continued, “he feels all alone. To have that girlfriend or ex-girlfriend or whatever she is act like she’s got it all figured out is insulting and condescending. Then along comes Humphrey, who for whatever reason, makes a connection. So the only person that’s connecting with him is a messed-up dog who’s lived in a cage all his life. That might’ve spooked him a bit.”
Sunny realized she’d never really talked to Pete much about his experiences in Afghanistan. He never brought it up, and she was afraid to overstep by asking questions. But there was a reason he trained service dogs for service members, at no charge. Nobody took on that kind of work unless they were passionate about it. Nobody took on that kind of work unless they truly wanted to help.
“I think Cici has made a connection, too.” Sunny’s words came labored. “I’ve never seen Cici react like she did last night. Rhett’s gotten to her somehow.”
Pete went silent. After a second, he said, “Well, that would spook him even more.” After that, Pete picked up the pace considerably. Sunny realized she’d pushed Pete’s buttons, or more like his one big button: Constance. She briefly wondered why she’d done that, but her body was in too much pain to ponder too deeply. Her lungs were ready to burst by the time the rescue came into view. Roger was out running the dogs, and just looking at the mutts’ tireless energy made her jealous.
Sunny sagged against a tree. Pete turned around and began stretching his legs. He smirked at her.
Sunny was just getting ready to call him a jerk when a van, driving past the house along the road out front, caught her eye. “Pete.” She barely whispered his name. “I think it’s happening.”
Pete followed her gaze, but the van was gone. “What?”
Sunny’s insides warmed instantly, which hadn’t happened in three miles on the trail. “Animal control,” she said. “An animal control van just drove by.”
