Storm Watcher (6 page)

Luke and Megan moved to stand next to the dogs.

“Doggie manners are very important,” Willajean said. “We’ll start with
sit
.” She held out a treat. “Easiest way to get a dog to sit is to hold a treat above her nose. Once you have her attention, move it back toward her tail. She’ll back up, but eventually she’ll sit. And when she does, say
sit
with a commanding tone. Then give her the treat.”

Willajean demonstrated with Jackson, a white papillon. It looked easy.

“Another way is to push the dog’s back end down, say
sit
, then give the treat. The key is repetition and praise. Your tone helps as well. A wimpy
sit
or a pleading
sit
or one that sounds like all the other words you say won’t work. The dog’ll just ignore you.” She handed treats to Luke and Megan. “All right, you try.”

Luke worked with Hazel, a tan bloodhound. She kept jumping up, trying to snatch the treat from his hand.

“Push her down and say
off
. When she stays down, praise her. It might take a few times. Some dogs are smarter than others.”

“Sit,” Megan ordered Tanner.

His tail hit the ground.

Willajean laughed. “Tanner loves food. He’ll do anything for a treat.”

After two hours, all three dogs had learned how to sit. Megan took them down to the kennel. Luke walked to the sunroom to visit the puppies again.

Willajean changed the soiled towels in Lady’s whelping box for clean ones. “I have buyers for five of the bloodhounds. And that leaves one for me and the other for you.” Willajean stuffed the pile of dirty towels into a laundry basket.

Luke leaned over Lady’s box, watching the pups. “Willajean?”

“Yes?”

“Could I have one of Lady’s pups instead?”

No reply. Too afraid to glance at her, Luke’s heartbeat pounded in his ears as he waited.

“I don’t have a problem with that. But” – she paused – “you’ll have to get permission from your father.”

Relief mixed with fear. What if Dad freaked? Luke gnawed on his lip, but decided to go ahead with his plan anyway. Grinning, he scratched Lady behind the ears. “Do you know any papillon websites?”

Willajean huffed. “Wait here.” She returned with two books on papillons and handed them to him. “These are better than a website. You can borrow them.”

“Thanks.” He flipped through the pages. Once he was an expert in all things papillon, he’d talk to Dad.

Luke spent that night and the next studying the books. At one point he had to laugh. He hadn’t studied this hard for any of his classes at school. To help him remember, he wrote a list of pros and cons for owning a papillon. Mom would be proud.

Pros: friendly, intelligent, learns fast, adventurous, steady, obedient, not yappy, strong instinct to protect, loves to cuddle, loves outdoor exercise.

Cons: can be possessive of owner, resents outsiders, could also get small-dog syndrome if papillon believes she’s the pack leader of the house.

Small-dog syndrome: nervous, high-strung, timid, snapping, biting, barking, and separation anxiety.

Luke reviewed his list. Not bad. The pros far outweighed the cons. And as long as the dog didn’t think she was in charge, they could avoid the small-dog syndrome. Soon he’d have enough information to talk to Dad.

When he arrived home on Wednesday, Grandmom said that Dad would be coming home very late, so they’d see him in the morning.

Luke fell asleep with his book resting on his chest and his bedside lamp on. The shrill ring of the phone woke him. He sat up confused. The book slammed to the floor. Who’d turned off his light?

The second ring cut off in midway. Curious about who would call the house phone at four in the morning, Luke padded downstairs.

Phone to his ear, Dad stared out the kitchen window. A suitcase lay on the floor next to the door. He must have just gotten in.

“That’s great. I was worried. I’m glad they saved his leg. How’s the other little boy?” Dad asked. “Oh, no. Lousy officials with their lousy regulations. They killed that boy. I know, I know. Okay, call me tomorrow. My cell phone should be charged by then. Thanks. Bye.” After hanging up, Dad reached up and opened the cabinet above the refrigerator. He pulled out a dark brown bottle and poured a drink.

A bad rescue
.

Dad never drank the hard stuff except when upset. He drank himself to sleep every night for two months after Mom died. And when he’d returned from Japan after the earthquake.

Dad grunted when he noticed Luke in the doorway. “Thought the phone would wake you. Your brothers would sleep through a tornado.” Slumping in one of the kitchen chairs, he gestured for Luke to join him. Then he took a long pull from his glass. The lines on his face drooped like a bloodhound’s ears.

“The world is full of idiots,” he said to Luke. “Twenty kids lost in the woods for a week. Squadrons of men marching and searching in the wrong direction for six days.” He took another gulp. “Finally, they call in dog teams. After
six
days.” He waved six fingers in the air.

“They’d filled the woods with their stench, so it took us a couple days to determine their search area was way off beam. After that it took only a day to find those boys.” He slammed his glass on the table. Squinting at Luke as if he were actually seeing him for the first time, Dad lowered his voice. “They were in bad shape. Starving, thirsty, a couple kids with sprained ankles. One kid had fallen off a cliff and busted his leg. Kids your age.” Dad swallowed hard, his eyes welling with tears. “One boy didn’t make it. If they’d called in the dogs right away, Ranger would have found them before their first hunger pangs. Idiots.” His father drained the glass and poured himself another drink.

Luke sat as still as a rabbit caught in Hounddog’s teeth. Normally Dad never talked about the searches that ended badly.

As if reading his mind, Dad said, “Luke, I’m telling you this for a very important reason. You might not want to do search and rescue with your dog, but think about it. The more qualified teams there are, the better. Jacob and Scott will soon be able to help me. Even if you don’t train your dog, we can breed her with Ranger, and maybe she’ll whelp smart puppies that can be trained for search and rescue.”

His father’s face sagged, and dark circles of exhaustion hung under his eyes.

Blinking several times as if trying to hold back tears, Dad said, “Someday, when he’s too old to run up mountains hot on the scent, I’ll have to replace Ranger.”

Luke hunkered down in his chair, crushed by grief and unable to breathe. Dad loved his dog almost as much as he loved Mom. She’d teased Dad about it all the time. He’d smile and laugh, but never deny it.

“I’m tired.” Dad rubbed the stubble on his chin. “I’m going to bed.” Setting his glass in the sink, he grabbed his suitcase and headed upstairs.

Luke sat in the kitchen for a long time. Had his dad checked in on him and seen the papillon book? Someone had turned off his light, but that seemed more of a grandmom thing. Either way, how could he ask for a papillon now?

Dad had good reasons, too. Getting a papillon was like buying a candy bar. Luke might want it with all his heart, but he didn’t need it to survive. It’d be selfish to own a dog just because Mom had thought a papillon would be perfect for Luke. After all, she wouldn’t be dis-appointed in him for giving into Dad. Right?

When the sky lightened, Luke dragged himself to bed and slept until noon.

Later on Thursday afternoon, Luke biked slowly to Willajean’s. He decided to do the mature thing and get a bloodhound. Determined to at least fake a positive attitude, he parked his bike next to the training area.

He hopped over the fence, then stopped short. Working next to Megan was another girl. And not just some ordinary farm girl. This girl’s hair was styled, her clothes matched, and she wore makeup. The teenager stood out amid the dogs and training equipment like a pampered poodle in a group of junkyard hounds.

She thrust a harness into Megan’s arms, shrilling an order. When Megan failed to respond, the new girl turned to see what had Megan’s attention.

“Who’s that?” Her fire-red lips twisted into a sneer.

“That’s Luke.” Megan waved him over. “Luke, this is my sister, Alayna.”

“Hey,” he said.

Alayna eyed his ripped shorts and stained T-shirt. She squinted and gave him a pained smile. “Didn’t my mother call you?” She spoke as if he were dimwitted.

“About what?” His good mood dissolved under Alayna’s icy stare.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m working here now,” she said slowly. “Mother doesn’t need your help anymore.” Alayna sighed dramatically at his confusion. “Go home.” She waved painted fingernails in the direction of his bike. “You’re fired.”

CHAPTER 5

Serial Killer from the Sky

Alayna’s words shocked him speechless.

“Don’t listen to her, Luke,” Megan said. “Mom told her she can work here
temporarily
until she finds another job. You’re not fired.”

The blockage in his throat eased slightly at Megan’s words, but Alayna had set her jaw in a determined – or maybe calculating – line. Luke couldn’t be sure.

“I plan to stay,” she said. Once again she appraised him with her gaze. Her painted fingernails seemed to elongate and curve into claws. A cunning cat among friendly dogs, she was likely to scratch without notice. “He won’t last.”

Before Luke or Megan could reply, Willajean swept into the training yard. She issued instructions with her usual no-nonsense attitude, starting the afternoon’s session. When the drills were set up, Willajean let the three of them work the dogs as she headed back toward the house.

“Guide the dog like
this
,” Alayna said, snapping the lead hard into Luke’s hands.

The leather stung his palms, but the burning wasn’t as painful as her words.

“Come
on
. Don’t you know anything about dogs? Thank God, I’m back. Poor mother must have been beside herself having to work with
you
. A charity case for sure.” Alayna pushed him aside and snatched the leash from his hands. “Follow me, Dog Boy, if you want to learn something.”

Luke shot a pleading look at Megan. She shrugged. Alayna had been bossing her around too, but if it bothered Megan, she didn’t show it. She ignored Alayna, but he couldn’t. He was new to dog training, and like it or not, Alayna had experience.

Besides, if he upset Alayna, she’d whine about it to Willajean. If it came down to Alayna or Luke, he had a pretty good idea who would be staying and who would be home alone all day watching the Weather Channel.

Suppressing a sigh, Luke followed Alayna, helping her with the drills. She used the same quick, efficient commands as her mother, but she lacked the warmth. To Alayna, the dogs were an item on a “To Do” list. Get dog out of kennel, put dog through training, put dog back in kennel. No praise for a good job. No hugs. No scratches behind the ears.

“Megan, stop that. You’re wasting time,” Alayna scolded.

Megan was wrestling with Lance. He’d finished the track without errors. Again. Lance was the Einstein of the dog world. Brushing the dirt off her pants, Megan returned to work. But whenever Alayna wasn’t watching, she played with the dogs.

As the day progressed, Alayna kept getting on Luke’s case. In her eyes, he did everything wrong. She called him Dog Boy a zillion times. His frustration turned to anger.

A brisk breeze blew from the east, and a dark line of clouds crept in from the west. The thick black bases and tall white pillars of clouds sucked in the warm moist air as it advanced, feeding the storm.

Oh no.
In a heartbeat, fear replaced his anger. The Weather Channel hadn’t predicted a thunderstorm. The wind increased as big fat raindrops struck the ground. Panic pulsed in his chest.

Alayna ran for the house, leaving Megan and Luke to take the dogs to the kennel. Megan held the door wide as Luke ushered them into the building.

When all the dogs were settled in their crates, Luke and Megan prepared the food for the next day in the kennel’s kitchen. Luke jumped every time thunder exploded in the air. Rain drummed on the roof at the same tempo that his hands shook as he tried to chop onions and carrots. He didn’t dare look at Megan, afraid of her expression, afraid of her questions.

After they finished with the food, Megan suggested they make a run for the house.

“Not safe,” Luke said.

“Why not?”

“Lightning. The serial killer from the sky.”

“What?” Megan put her hands on her hips and peered at him as if he’d lost his mind.