It'll Be An Adventure (Masters of the Shadowlands #15)(16)
Author: Cherise Sinclair
“Murphy.” At Dustin’s come-here gesture, she started forward. Then stopped.
Oh, no. She knew the man beside him, who looked like he stepped out of one of those Viking barbarian shows. Well over six feet tall, shoulder-length blond hair, and so muscular he probably lifted weights with the Terminator in his off-hours.
Damnfinito. It was Master Saxon—the big bully.
Here.
This wasn’t right. The universe couldn’t be so cruel, could it? This was totally Murphy’s Law in action. How would she put it?
Whatever person you least want to see will show up at the worst possible moment.
“Murphy, Saxon doesn’t have a flanker today, so let’s pair you up with him and his dog.
Yes, the universe is a sadist.
“Murphy. Good to meet you.” Master Saxon’s…no, Saxon’s deep voice was calm without a hint of his feelings. Then again, did bullies have feelings?
Thank goodness he didn’t recognize her.
Oh, don’t be stupid. Of course he knew her. He was just being discreet. During orientation, Ghost said that what happened in the Shadowlands stayed in the Shadowlands. Members didn’t acknowledge each other outside the club.
Oh…boy. Did she truly want to be out in the field with this bully? But Dustin needed her for the search. A child was out there. Maybe injured, undoubtedly lost.
Being lost was the worst feeling in the world. The first time she went hiking with Pa and her brothers, she’d gone off to pee and couldn’t find the way back. She’d stared at the trees—all alike. Feeling so little and so alone.
No child should ever feel that way.
Woman-up, Murph.
She’d been staring at the bully too long. His dark blond eyebrows rose in inquiry.
She lifted her chin and kept her voice cool. Lying wasn’t something she could do so there’d be no nice to meet you. Instead, she gave an acknowledging nod. “Saxon.”
His lips quirked, then he motioned to the dog sitting at his feet. “This is Sherlock.”
She yanked her gaze from the man and looked down—and her heart melted.
The dog looked like a border collie mix with adorable flopped-over ears and a happy smile. She crouched and held out her hand. “Hey, Sherlock. You have a great name for a dog who finds people.”
Wagging his tail, he bounced forward for pets, giving her a quick lick across her chin.
“You’re a wonderful dog. I can tell,” she whispered.
He grinned—as only a dog could—in obvious agreement.
“Heh, I think she likes your dog better than you,” Dustin muttered to Saxon. “There’s a change.”
Saxon’s low chuckle sent goosebumps over her skin.
“Murphy, what are you doing over there? Get your ass over here. We’re short a flanker.” Ross strode over, full lips thinning as he pressed them together.
Unhappiness stirred inside her. It hurt to know her old SAR group needed her, and she couldn’t help. But this group needed her too. “Sorry, Ross. I moved to the Pasco K9 group.”
“What the fuck did you do a stupid thing like that for? After I put all that work into training you, you’re just leaving?”
Training me? Hardly. It wasn’t as if he was a dog handler or flanker. He sat at a table and handled the base support communication. “Yes, I left. I prefer a group closer to home.”
And away from you.
As if he’d heard her thought, his expression hardened. “Fine. You weren’t all that great anyway. At anything. They’re welcome to you.”
When he stomped away toward her old group, she looked down, blinking hard. Knowing her face must be red. I want to go home. Just go home.
A small growl sounded. The fluffy dog at her feet showed his teeth as he watched Ross.
And somehow, the sound made her feel better. She stroked her fingers over Sherlock’s soft head and whispered, “Thanks.”
Pulling in a slow breath, she looked at the two men. “Sorry about that. Recent break-up.”
Frowning, Saxon was studying her. His gaze paused on her waist, and she realized she was hugging herself.
Oops. She let her arms drop.
After a dismissive glance at Ross, Saxon returned his attention to her. “There’s a kid who’s lost. Let’s get going.”
“Yeah. I hate drama queens. And Murphy, I talked to your previous group. You’re a good flanker.” All business, Dustin held out a paper. “Here’s your map with the marked section you two will need to clear and a pic of the girl. Start when you’re ready.”
As he headed for the next team, she took a quick look at the map. As usual, the K9 teams would be sent into the emptiest areas. Fixing the map in her memory, she surveyed the area around them for landmarks.
“Got everything you need?” Saxon asked.
He might be a jerk, but he was her job today. And he had a wonderful dog. She knew how to keep things polite and professional.
“Yes, I’m ready to go.” She pointed. “Our section is that way. We can follow that horse path for a while then turn east.”
“Good plan.” He nodded, clicked his tongue for Sherlock, and headed out, motioning for her to walk beside him. He was so big, she felt almost tiny. She kept her eyes on the narrow dirt trail through a forest of slash and long-leaf pine.
“How much experience do you have with flanking?” he asked.
“Only a few months. Three actual searches. I’ve got the standard certifications, and the usual weekly and monthly training.” She smiled at the sight of a gopher tortoise, nosing out of its hole.
“We can cut across here.” If nothing else, she had a lot of experience in Florida forests, thanks to her father running a wilderness lodge until recently. She headed off the tiny path toward the east.
He followed. Sherlock danced along beside him, tail waving in happiness.
She looked at him. “I’ve only been with a couple of K9 teams. Is there anything about the two of you that I should know?”
“Sherlock’s an air-scent dog, so stay behind and downwind. He moves fast, and his signals aren’t subtle.”
Air scent dogs could pick up the faintest whiff of a person in the air as opposed to trailing dogs—like bloodhounds—that followed a scent left on the ground. The breeze in front of the incoming storm would be useful in carrying the scent toward them.