The kid, a little boy, from the looks of his overalls and blue t-shirt, saw the dog and pulled up short, just as Gun stopped. The child turned back to his mother but stumbled and went down, tumbling over the turf, shrieking and wailing.
Gun, fired up from his successful take-down of the ball, gazed at the boy, ears pricked, tail high, muscles taut, quivering with the desire to chase.
Even friendly as he was, he could easily hurt the child by accident.
“Gun, here, now!”
This time, to Ethan’s immense relief, Gun responded. His body language softened in shame at the scolding. His tail and ears down, he slouched back to his master and dropped into a down-stay, like the others.
“What’s wrong with you?” screamed the mother from across the grass, where she gathered the youngster close to her body. She was attractive, blonde and heavy-set, but the anger on her face was unmistakeable. The other woman had herded the remaining children together and were now huddled awkwardly on the grass, the kids wailing in chorus. “Letting those dogs loose around children, are you crazy?”
Ethan willed himself to stay calm.
“Is your little guy okay, ma’am?”
He repeated the down-stay command and then walked closer to the mother.
The woman got to her feet and ran to her friend, clutching her son like she’d just snatched him from a burning building.
“It’s okay, Amanda,” said the second woman, her golden-brown ponytail bobbing as she rocked one of her own youngsters. She eyed him nervously. “We can go to another park.”
He glanced behind him. All three dogs were lying on the grass, alert but relaxed, the picture of controlled power.
Ethan put his hands up in front of him as if to show he was unarmed. The women and children were sitting between him and his truck, so he’d have to talk them down before he could put the dogs away.
He took a few steps toward them.
“Ladies, I apologize if my dogs frightened you.”
The brown-haired one attempted a smile, but the blonde one shook her finger at him, making the hair piled on her head quiver.
“Frightened us?” she snapped. “Look at them! That dog went straight for little George. I’ve had it with loose dogs and irresponsible owners. I’m going to file a complaint. Enough’s enough.”
Brown Ponytail’s tentative smile took on a desperate edge. “Amanda, let’s just go.” She took a step backward, her eyes darting toward the mini-van they’d arrived in.
Ethan recognized the fear in her eyes and it made him sick to his stomach.
“My dog didn’t touch your son.” He worked to keep his voice level. “I can’t speak for any other dogs, but your kids were never in any danger with mine. If you like, though, I’d be happy to teach them some dog-safe skills.”
Instantly he recognized his mistake.
“So now it’s our fault?” Blondie was sputtering now. “How dare you! Sherry, hand me my phone.”
An older man jogging near the water’s edge noticed and came up to them, a Border collie mix jumping and pulling at the end of the leash.
“What’s going on here? Oreo, stay.”
Ethan gritted his teeth. Clinton Calloway. Of all people. With no control over his dog, either.
“Ethan Nash,” said the man, wiping his face on the sleeve of his t-shirt. “Winning friends everywhere, I see. Oreo, sit!”
“Mayor.” There always seemed to be too many teeth in the man’s smile.
Little George had stopped crying and was now squirming away from his mother’s grasp, trying to see over her shoulder.
“Doggies?” he said, then scowled. “Bad doggies.”
Calloway looked where the kid was pointing and raised his eyebrows. “They look scary but I’m sure Mr. Nash wouldn’t bring bad doggies around innocent children.” He yanked on the leash. The collie yipped, then stood still, subdued. “It takes a lot of work to train a dog properly.”
The superiority in the man’s voice made Ethan want to punch him, especially since Oreo was so clearly confused and discouraged.
“It certainly does,” agreed Ethan. He switched focus to the child, forcing his jaw to unclench and lifting his cheek muscles in what he hoped was a smile. “Would you like to meet them, little man?”