He paused just long enough to murmur a commendatory good girl before sweeping the puppy into his arms and turning his anxiety on Sophie instead. He’d all but forgotten about Dawn standing in the doorway watching the pair of them, a look of intense curiosity rendering her more silent than usual.

“Is this what we’re training her to do?” Harrison demanded. Fear made his expression harsher than usual, lines of worry pulling his mouth down at the corners. “To run away from me at the first sign of danger?”

Sophie hated to see him like this. Not the bluster, which was only to be expected from a man like this one, but the worry. The pain. Bubbles had obviously wormed her little way much deeper into his heart than she’d ever thought possible.

“She’s not hurt, Harrison,” she said, her voice gentle. “That’s the most important thing. A little shaken, yes, but none the worse for her adventure.”

“Adventure?” he echoed. “Is that what you’d call this?”

“Yes, actually. I would. At least she came out from under the bed willingly this time.” Sophie got to her feet with a brush of her knees and a squaring of her shoulders. Already, Harrison was looking less like a man who’d been pulled back from the edge of a cliff. “And she didn’t try to escape, which is a plus. She follows a pattern when she’s scared. Patterns are good. Patterns are predictable. I can work with patterns.”

“Abject fear is not a pattern. It’s a problem.”

“Not paying taxes is a problem. Yelling at your very expensive and highly professional dog trainer is a problem.”

His lips began their telltale quiver. “I wasn’t going to yell.”

“Yes, you were. You’ve been wanting to do it all day. Think about how much you hate knitting. Think about all those eensy-weensy loops and tangles in your big man hands.”

“Nice try, Sophie, but you can’t break me with yarn.”

She thought she heard a chuckle from her sister’s direction, but she didn’t dare pull her gaze from Harrison’s. This wasn’t at all how she’d choose to break down Harrison’s walls, but there was no denying that they were crashing down around them.

“I, on the other hand, am an amazing knitter,” Sophie continued. “I could make you and Bubbles matching rainbow glitter sweaters by tomorrow.”

“I wish you would. I love rainbows.”

“Hats too,” she warned. “And I can make you wear them as part of your training. If I tell Oscar it’s necessary for bonding purposes, you know he’ll back me up. Matching hats and sweaters for every day of the week.”

“I know what you’re trying to do, and it’s not going to work.”

“Are you sure about that? It sounds an awful lot like it’s working.”