I said, “Hold on. I’ve got a spare leash.”
I took Cisco back to our stall and zipped him securely inside his crate. “This is
starting to look more like the roller derby than a dog show,” observed Miles as I
dug through my bag for a first aid kit and spare leash.
“I just hope she doesn’t realize it was Cisco who tripped her,” I muttered in reply.
I grabbed my spare sweatshirt from the bag and ran back out to Marcie.
“Here,” I said, offering her the sweatshirt. “Yours is kind of…” I made a fluttering
gesture across my chest to indicate the scraps of her tee shirt that remained.
She looked up from dropping the loop leash over Bryte’s neck and seemed surprised
at the extent of the damage as she glanced down at her clothes. “Oh,” she said, once
again pulling the pieces together with one hand. She accepted the sweatshirt and transferred
Bryte’s leash to me. “That’s nice of you…”
“Raine,” I supplied. “Raine Stockton.”
“I’m Marcie Wilbanks. Thanks,” she added, “for catching Bryte . And for this.” She managed a quick, if weak, smile as she nodded toward the sweatshirt.
“I brought these too.” I held out a package of antiseptic wipes. “You should probably
take care of that knee.”
She turned away to pull on the sweatshirt and clean her injured knee, and I took advantage
of the moment to slip my phone out of my pocket and snap a photo of myself with Bryte.
I tapped out the caption, “Here I am with National Champion Bryte!” and sent it on
to Facebook. Melanie would get a kick out of that.
“What the hell are you doing with my dog?”
I barely had time to get to my feet and stuff my phone back into my pocket before
Neil Kellog snatched Bryte’s leash from my hand with such abruptness that the dog’s
two front feet left the ground as he jerked her to his side. “Hey!” I objected. “There’s
no need for that!”
“Calm down, Neil.” Marcie came forward quickly. “She’s okay. She got out of her crate
and went for a run, but this girl caught her. You should be thanking her—”
Neil turned on her. His face was red and his eyes were snapping furiously. “So this
is your game now? Stealing my dog? Do you really want to play by those rules, Marcie?
Do you?”
“Are you crazy? Nobody tried to steal your dog!”
“Yeah, I’m crazy all right! Crazy for thinking I could trust you with her. The minute
my back was turned—”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Neil, it was an accident! If you hadn’t trained her with that
cockeyed method of yours, she would’ve come when I called her and—”
“I’ll show you accidents , Marcie.” He took a step toward her that couldn’t be construed as anything but threatening.
I could see the veins on the side of his neck bulging. “If you ever touch my dog again,
you can look forward to an accident that will take you weeks to get over.”
I said, trying to sound reasonable, “Listen, any dog can get loose. The important
thing is—”
He turned on me. The color of his face and the fire in his eyes actually made me shrink
back. “Who the hell are you?” He was in my face, practically roaring at me. I threw
up an instinctive hand in self-defense. “You need to stay out of this if you know
what’s good for you!”
“For the love of Pete, will you lower your voice?” Marcie caught his arm and he flung
her away. She stumbled back.
“Everything okay here?” A hand fell lightly upon my shoulder, the touch casual, the
gesture unmistakably protective. And though Miles’s tone was mild, I didn’t have to
turn to look at him to feel the steel in his eyes. I’d seen that look before, and
I could see it now in the way that Neil, subduing the blaze of anger in his face,
looked away and scowled. I could see it in the breath of relief that passed through
Marcie’s parted lips. And I could hear it in Neil’s tightly muttered, “I’m taking
I took Cisco back to our stall and zipped him securely inside his crate. “This is
starting to look more like the roller derby than a dog show,” observed Miles as I
dug through my bag for a first aid kit and spare leash.
“I just hope she doesn’t realize it was Cisco who tripped her,” I muttered in reply.
I grabbed my spare sweatshirt from the bag and ran back out to Marcie.
“Here,” I said, offering her the sweatshirt. “Yours is kind of…” I made a fluttering
gesture across my chest to indicate the scraps of her tee shirt that remained.
She looked up from dropping the loop leash over Bryte’s neck and seemed surprised
at the extent of the damage as she glanced down at her clothes. “Oh,” she said, once
again pulling the pieces together with one hand. She accepted the sweatshirt and transferred
Bryte’s leash to me. “That’s nice of you…”
“Raine,” I supplied. “Raine Stockton.”
“I’m Marcie Wilbanks. Thanks,” she added, “for catching Bryte . And for this.” She managed a quick, if weak, smile as she nodded toward the sweatshirt.
“I brought these too.” I held out a package of antiseptic wipes. “You should probably
take care of that knee.”
She turned away to pull on the sweatshirt and clean her injured knee, and I took advantage
of the moment to slip my phone out of my pocket and snap a photo of myself with Bryte.
I tapped out the caption, “Here I am with National Champion Bryte!” and sent it on
to Facebook. Melanie would get a kick out of that.
“What the hell are you doing with my dog?”
I barely had time to get to my feet and stuff my phone back into my pocket before
Neil Kellog snatched Bryte’s leash from my hand with such abruptness that the dog’s
two front feet left the ground as he jerked her to his side. “Hey!” I objected. “There’s
no need for that!”
“Calm down, Neil.” Marcie came forward quickly. “She’s okay. She got out of her crate
and went for a run, but this girl caught her. You should be thanking her—”
Neil turned on her. His face was red and his eyes were snapping furiously. “So this
is your game now? Stealing my dog? Do you really want to play by those rules, Marcie?
Do you?”
“Are you crazy? Nobody tried to steal your dog!”
“Yeah, I’m crazy all right! Crazy for thinking I could trust you with her. The minute
my back was turned—”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Neil, it was an accident! If you hadn’t trained her with that
cockeyed method of yours, she would’ve come when I called her and—”
“I’ll show you accidents , Marcie.” He took a step toward her that couldn’t be construed as anything but threatening.
I could see the veins on the side of his neck bulging. “If you ever touch my dog again,
you can look forward to an accident that will take you weeks to get over.”
I said, trying to sound reasonable, “Listen, any dog can get loose. The important
thing is—”
He turned on me. The color of his face and the fire in his eyes actually made me shrink
back. “Who the hell are you?” He was in my face, practically roaring at me. I threw
up an instinctive hand in self-defense. “You need to stay out of this if you know
what’s good for you!”
“For the love of Pete, will you lower your voice?” Marcie caught his arm and he flung
her away. She stumbled back.
“Everything okay here?” A hand fell lightly upon my shoulder, the touch casual, the
gesture unmistakably protective. And though Miles’s tone was mild, I didn’t have to
turn to look at him to feel the steel in his eyes. I’d seen that look before, and
I could see it now in the way that Neil, subduing the blaze of anger in his face,
looked away and scowled. I could see it in the breath of relief that passed through
Marcie’s parted lips. And I could hear it in Neil’s tightly muttered, “I’m taking
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