Again, that sensation of being seen, recognized, flowed over him. Even mad, she had his back.
She adjusted the strap on her camera and settled herself about three feet away from the chute, her bright hair falling around her shoulders, her legs tucked around the legs of the folding chair, like an excited kid.
She’d been scared, the first time she’d come to see him. Afraid of him, his dogs. Desperate to keep the lid on a secret that needed to get out.
The worst had happened, for her. And look at her now. She didn’t care about what people said. She’d stuck up for him, in a very public way that he hadn’t appreciated, but had nevertheless resulted in him standing here, right now, ready to send his best dog off on a mission to change the hearts and minds of those watching.
Carrie had done this.
In the midst of her own career tanking, people criticizing her for her art, her own family barely talking to her, she’d managed to find a way to insert him into this town that she loved, making him believe that he too, could belong here. That he, too, could love it here.
She cocked her head, as if wondering about the delay. Then she pursed her lips and sent him an air kiss.
It landed on him like a mace.
“Break a leg, Ashur,” she called. “Come on, Ethan. What are you waiting for?”
Excellent question. What was he waiting for?
She’d sent him an air kiss. They’d shared some very real kisses before that. She’d introduced him as her special friend.
Suddenly he understood why her look of betrayal at the dance had been so devastating to him. Why he’d decided to come here today.
It wasn’t just agility he was demonstrating today. And there was only one person he was performing for.
“Okay, buddy,” he said, looking down at his dog. “You ready?”
Ashur barked once. He was always ready.
Ethan took a few steps, up to the start line of the course.
“Line up,” he called to Ashur and widened his stance.
The dog trotted around him, but instead of coming to heel, he sat down with his head between Ethan’s knees.
“Good boy. Now, wait.”
He strode about a third of the way into the course, glancing around for anyone or anything that might be a distraction. Regulation courses were so much more reliable, but he’d do the best he could.
He was surprised and pleased to see the number of faces, watching. More pleased to see that Carrie was leaning forward with anticipation.
“Ashur,” he called. “Over!”
He gestured to the first obstacle, a single post jump, and moved quickly to the next one, a lower double-post jump. Ashur flew over them both, clearing them with inches to spare.
“Climb it!” he said, gesturing to the A-frame. “Slowly.”
Ashur thundered onto the structure and would have taken a flying leap off the downside, if not for Ethan’s reminder.
To his surprise, he heard a smattering of applause. The dog noticed, though, and did a quick twirl, which earned giggles from the kids.
He’d forgotten how much Ashur loved performing, and felt bad that he hadn’t had the dog in front of an audience more often. He was a natural crowd-pleaser and seemed to understand that they weren’t going for points today. This was all about showmanship.
He felt Carrie’s eyes on them. Did she understand that he was doing this for her?
“Weave,” he commanded, when they got to the flexible upright poles. Ashur nosed through them, slaloming like a champion skier, never missing a beat, then followed Ethan’s hand movement to land on the pause box.
“Down.”
The dog sank onto his chest, his pink tongue lolling out of his mouth, making him look like he was grinning.
He might as well have been. He was having the time of his life.
After the arbitrary five seconds Ethan had chosen as appropriate, he motioned the dog to the board-walk, the tunnel, a few more jumps, the chute and then urged him toward the finish line.
“Yay!” he yelled. “Good boy!”
People applauded vigorously. He let Ashur have a tug on his favorite toy, then led him to the front of the course, where most of the people were seated.
“Take a bow, boy,” he said.
Ashur folded one leg in front of him and stretched the other out, laying his head almost on the ground.