Laughter rippled over the crowd and somewhere, a little girl squealed. From the sidelines, Carrie gave him a thumbs-up and he felt his whole face light up in response.
“If anyone would like to meet Ashur personally,” he said, “this is your chance. Ashur, sit.”
The dog sat, his sides heaving from his run, happiness in every line of his body.
A young couple approached with two small kids.
“It’s okay,” said Ethan, encouragingly. “If you put your hand out, he’ll shake it.”
The little girl took a tentative step forward.
“Shake her hand, Ashur,” instructed Ethan.
The dog put up a paw and held it until the little girl shook it gently.
“He’s shaking hands with me, Mommy,” she cried, in delight.
Suddenly there was a line-up, to meet the cool dog that shook hands.
Ethan looked over to where Carrie was still sitting. She smiled at him, her hand at her chest. He knew the feeling.
Then, out of nowhere, a black-and-white border collie came crashing through the makeshift barricade, racing to catch a Frisbee, heedless of the line-up of children.
The little girl screamed.
Ethan ran.
*
Carrie’s heart was in her throat. She watched, helplessly as Ethan grabbed the child, narrowly missing getting knocked over himself. The collie crashed into Ashur and the two dogs tumbled end over end, knocking over some jumps, a mass of snarling jaws and tangled limbs.
Women gasped, children cried.
No! To have it all fall apart now, after he’d done so well, after Ethan had his audience eating out of his hand, it couldn’t happen. She knew the risk he’d taken in opening himself up for judgment like this.
Whether he’d done it strictly for himself, or even a little bit for her, she loved him for it. And while he hadn’t told her about his past, she had no right to expect it. Since she hadn’t been upfront about her feelings.
There was a chance he didn’t return them, of course. But it was a chance she was willing to take.
Mars leaped out of the truck, where he’d been waiting for his own turn at the course, and streaked to the course, his head low, his eyes trained on the collie. Gun barked wildly from his crate and Carrie rushed over to keep him from hurting himself.
“Easy, Gunny-boy!” The young shepherd quieted at her touch but Mars was with Ashur now, ready.
The collie yelped and whirled, hackles up.
“Oreo!” cried a kid, bursting through the crowd. “Oreo, get back here!”
The collie ignored him. The kid, seeing the two bigger dogs, skidded to a stop and fell silent.
Behind him, to Carrie’s shock, came Mayor Calloway, dressed in a loose t-shirt and khaki shorts. He pulled up short, breathing hard, his smile falling away, replaced with first confusion, then embarrassment, then rage.
People glanced between the two men but Ethan, after handing the little girl safely to her father, focused solely on the dogs.
“Ashur, Mars, here,” he called, slapping his thigh. “Beautiful border collie, son. Oreo, you said? I believe I’ve met him before. Not with you, though.”
The boy nodded. “Uncle Clinton walks him for me sometimes.”
“Ah,” said Ethan, tipping his head in the man’s direction. “Dogs, come.”
The shepherds turned obediently but as they did so, the collie reached out and snapped at Ashur’s hindquarters. Before Ethan could say a word, Ashur had the smaller dog pinned on his back, squealing.
Someone in the crowd screamed.
“Control your dogs,” said Calloway, his lips thinned.
Then, to Carrie’s horror, she saw Amanda’s son, Georgie, running toward the dogs, his mother two steps behind him, reaching frantically for his shirt.
“Good doggies, Mama!” His little face was smeared with ice cream and wreathed with excitement.
Ashur looked up, and in that second, the collie scrambled to his feet, wide-eyed and growling, his attention caught by the child.
None of the adults were quick enough to intercept the child, but Mars was. He jumped in front of the collie, blocking the kid with his body. With a thump, Georgie landed on his diapered bottom and this time, instead of flanking the collie, Ethan’s dogs flanked the boy, circling him, their eyes on the collie, using their herding instincts to keep the child separated from the threat.