Gail Martin - Bride in Training

Emily pressed her lips together so as not to laugh. “We have dog obedience classes here a couple of nights a week.” She handed him a pamphlet.

“Do you teach these classes?”

“I mainly run the office, but I also own a dog-sitting and dog-walking business.” She hadn’t meant to tell him that, but it was too late now. He needed to learn to take care of his own animals.

“I—I might like to use your dog-walking service if you could fit me in.”

“I’m filled up right now.”

“I’d still like your card if you have one. You never know.”

She knew. She could handle dogs, but she couldn’t handle Martin Davis. She dug into her pocket, pulled out a card and handed it to him.

“Thanks. Will you call me if you get an opening?”

Emily forced herself to be firm. “My customers stay with me a long time.” When she looked at his expression, she wished she’d been gentler.

He didn’t look back as he marched outside. Apparently Martin wasn’t a man to accept the word no.

A former counselor, Gail Gaymer Martin is an award-winning author of women’s fiction, romance and romantic suspense. Bride in Training is her forty-third published work of long fiction; she has three million books in print. Gail is the author of twenty-five worship resource books and also wrote the book Writing the Christian Romance released by Writer’s Digest Books. She is a cofounder of American Christian Fiction Writers, the premier Christian fiction organization in the country.

When not behind her computer, Gail enjoys a busy life—traveling, presenting workshops at conferences, speaking at churches and libraries, and singing as a soloist, praise leader and choir member at her church, where she also plays handbells and hand chimes. She also sings with one of the finest Christian chorales in Michigan, the Detroit Lutheran Singers. Gail is a lifelong resident of Michigan and lives with her husband, Bob, in the Detroit suburbs. To learn more about her, visit her Web site at www.gailmartin.com. Write to Gail at P.O. Box 760063, Lathrup Village, MI 48076, or at authorgailmartin@aol.com. She enjoys hearing from readers.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

By his mighty power at work within us, he is able to accomplish infinitely more than we would ever dare to ask or hope.

—Ephesians 3:20

In memory of our daughter, Brenda Martin Bailey, who lost her life to ovarian cancer in 2006.

And to men and women everywhere who love dogs and provide them with loving homes. From those unions, families receive a blessing, unconditional love, which is an underlying theme in the three novels of the Man’s Best Friend series.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

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Questions for Discussion

Good decision? Bad?

Martin Davis gripped his steering wheel as he eyed the shelter’s Time For Paws neon sign glowing in the dusk. He’d never thought he would darken the doors of a dog shelter, but here he was. Now the question hung in his mind. Was it a good decision or bad one? He’d become lonely without Suzette, his Bouvier, but he hadn’t been able to handle her. Sometimes he wondered what he could handle. Not dogs or women, apparently.

So if he couldn’t deal with Suzette, why come here to look for another dog? He released his grip on the steering wheel, fell back against the seat, and rubbed his temples. Because he couldn’t bear coming home to an empty house any longer. He’d been a failure as a husband. Cats were too aloof. Dogs? He had hopes.

Martin ran his fingers through his hair. He’d been alone for eight years since his wife walked out on him. The loneliness had faded, he thought, but since his brother, Nick, married, he had stopped popping by for visits. That was the whole of it. Being alone wasn’t for Martin anymore.

He turned the thought over in his mind. He recalled Steph and Nick talking about the unconditional love a dog provided. He’d never been one to worry about love or the lack of it, but unconditional love meant someone would be excited to greet him when he came home. A dog’s happy yips and wagging tail filled the bill, and a dog wouldn’t care if he were preoccupied with his business or even a little edgy at times.

Unconditional love. He shook his head. He sounded like a poet or a psychiatrist. The thought rallied an uneasy grin. Martin turned off the ignition and pushed open the door. If nothing more, he could take a look.

He slipped out of his car and gazed at the gray concrete building, once his friend Brent Runyan’s unoccupied factory until Molly wheedled away his building and his heart. They’d married, too. Everyone had gotten tangled in that web of “two by two.” He wondered if Noah had any idea what he started when he filled that ark.

Drawing up his shoulders, he headed for the door. The bell jingled as he stepped inside, and in the distance he heard dogs making a ruckus. He glanced at his watch. Dinner time, he guessed. His own stomach gave a rumble.

No one stood behind the desk. He waited, his impatience growing each second. He tapped his foot, staring at the doorway. Maybe this was a dumb decision. It could be God’s way of telling him to go home. But maybe not. It might just be bad customer service. Or his impatience. If he asked Nick, that’s what his brother would tell him. He had no patience.

Frustrated, he returned to the entrance and swung the door open and closed. The small bell jingled again. With no response, he walked deeper into the room and aimed his gaze at the door standing ajar. Through the opening, he could see a young woman at the far end of a long aisle, but before he could call to her, she turned and headed his way. Her dark hair brushed against her shoulders, her arms swinging past her trim hips as if she had nothing better to do. But he did.

Finally she noticed him and picked up her stride. When she came through the door, the woman paused, a look of curiosity on her face. “Sorry, I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.”

About five minutes came to mind, but Martin didn’t offer one of his biting comments. Instead he wondered why she gave him that questioning look.

She stepped closer. “What can I do for you?”

He motioned to the door. “You might change that bell to a siren.” Okay, so he’d let that comment sneak out.

“Great idea. Now what can I do for you as far as our dogs are concerned.”