"Mostly he sniffs and waits," Nora admitted. "I'm the one who got impatient."
"Then we have two students," Jonah said. "The dog needs a reliable indication. The person holding the leash needs to believe it when he gives one. And both of you need to understand that no indication is an answer too."
She booked the first session. The appointment would not produce an immediate crop, and it would cost money they had hoped not to spend. Nora booked it anyway. For the first time since buying the land, she was beginning to see that the most expensive mistake was not always the one that appeared in Tess's cash flow book. Sometimes it was losing the ability to tell what a place was trying to show her.
Jonah Pike arrived on a cold morning with a canvas bag, a roll of training line, and no interest in the mystery of Nora's land until he had watched Rook work. The dog met him at the gate, sniffed his boots, then returned to Nora as if introducing visitors were beneath his responsibilities. Jonah watched that small movement and smiled.
"He's used to having a job," Jonah said.
"Several," Nora replied. "He watches the herd, checks fences with me, and finds things under trees that I don't understand."
"The last one is the one we're going to make quieter."
They began away from the pecan roots, on open ground near the barn where mistakes could not damage the orchard. Jonah had brought safe training aids with familiar scents and placed them so that Rook could learn the connection between searching, indicating, and receiving a reward. The goal was not to make him excited enough to dig. It was to give him a clear way to tell Nora that he had found something without touching it.
Rook understood the search quickly. The difficult part was persuading him that sitting still counted as work. The first time he reached a scent source, he lowered his head and started to paw. Jonah interrupted gently and reset the exercise. The next time, Rook hesitated over the same spot, looked at Nora, and sank onto his haunches.
"Now," Jonah said.
Nora rewarded him. Rook blinked, stood, and seemed briefly puzzled that such a small action had earned so much approval. Then he asked to work again by circling her knees.
"He'll learn," Jonah said. "But you have a bigger problem."
Nora raised an eyebrow. "Of course I do."
"You're leaning over every time he slows down. He feels you wanting something. If you keep doing that, he may start indicating where he thinks you want him to indicate, not where he actually smells a source. Walk naturally. Let him tell you."
The correction was embarrassing because Nora recognized the behavior instantly. She had done it with the goats, pushing them toward openings she wanted them to use. She had done it with the pecan trees, treating every aligned trunk as proof before Wade was ready to confirm it. She had done it with the six lumps she dug from the root zone, allowing eagerness to turn a question into a conclusion.