Page 81 of Keeping Guard
“Thought that would shut you up.” He pointed the gun at her. “Here’s what you’re going to do. Write a note to your father. Tell him that your bodyguard picked you up and you’ll see him tomorrow. I’ll read it, of course, so don’t try anything stupid.”
“And then what?”
“Then we get married.”
“No. You’ve lost your mind if you think I’m leaving with you.”
“So be it.” He walked past her.
“Where are you going?”
“To get your father.”
“That’s your fifth yawn this morning,” Jack said.
Noah yawned again.
“Late night with a princess?”
“Shut it. And wipe that stupid smirk off your face.” It had been a late night spent in Peyton’s bed and then an early morning when she had woken him with her mouth wrapped around him. Best way in the world to wake up.
Jack laughed as he slapped Noah on the back. “You’re a happier man these days. I had my doubts about you getting involved with Peyton, but I was wrong. She’s been good for you. Don’t screw it up, brother.”
“There’s nothing to screw up.” The lie tasted bitter on his tongue. Peyton had been...was good for him. After she’d fallen asleep last night, he’d actually tried to think of how they could maintain a relationship. He just couldn’t see it. Her home was here, the job that meant everything to her was here, her father was here. She couldn’t move even if he asked her to, which he wouldn’t.
He’d tried to imagine making his home in Asheville, and he couldn’t see that, either. The mountain town was charming, and he’d be happy living here except for the simple fact that there was no work for him.
This was Jack’s home, where he’d grown up, and he’d found a way to create an organization doing what he loved. Noah couldn’t see himself training dogs for the rest of his life, and he wasn’t about to mooch off Peyton. No matter how agreeable she might be to that.
So, no. There was nothing to screw up. He would leave. They would both miss each other. She would eventually forget him. He would never forget her.
“We gonna do something besides stand here andnottalk about my love life?”
“Yeah, so pay attention.” Jack crouched in front of Lucky. “Who’s a good boy?”
The silly dog tried to climb up him. “What kind of training is that?”
Jack laughed. “You’re a happy dog, aren’t you, Lucky?” He glanced up at Noah. “He’s got a great temperament for a therapy dog. He just needs to understand what his job is. It’s much easier to train a therapy dog than it is a service dog. Basically, he has to learn all his commands. Heel, Sit, Stay, et cetera.
“Then we have to get him used to noises so he doesn’t try to run away if he hears a car backfire or thunder or whatever. He’ll have to learn to ignore distractions, strangers wanting to pet him, a cat running past him, and other dogs. We’ll take him places like the mall where there are people. Right now, he wants attention from everyone, and we have to teach him to ignore other people. His purpose in life will be to give comfort to his owner, especially when he or she is suffering from a PTSD episode. He’ll learn to recognize the signs.”
Noah wasn’t sure how he felt about someone else getting his dog. “How will he learn that?”
“To recognize signs of depression?”
“Yeah.”
“Dogs are sensitive to their owner’s emotions, and many pick up on that on their own, but the owner can also help that learning along by cuddling with the dog when they are experiencing symptoms of depression. That helps the dog learn the tell signs of that particular owner. Another way is to give the dog a treat when you feel an episode coming on. That teaches the dog to respond to the tells. Since people experience PTSD in different ways, responding to the signs part of a therapy dog’s training will be done by the owner with guidance from us.”
Noah almost let all that pass without comment because that would be admitting that he was one of those people Jack was talking about, but wouldn’t that be avoiding?Don’t be a coward, Doc Meadows said in his head.
“He knows when I’m having a...um, a black moment, I guess you could say. He’ll do something like put his chin on my leg and look at me with worried eyes.”
“Not surprised. He’s an intelligent dog. He’ll make someone a good therapy dog once he learns his manners.”
Yeah, he would, and Noah was going to miss the silly dog when he returned to his team.
A woman emerged from the office, running toward them. “Who’s that?” He’d not seen her here before.
