Broken Trails (8 page)

Lainey lifted her cup in thanks, watching her disappear around the fireplace. She heard the tread of boots on steps, the light creak above her head as Scotch reached her room and began changing clothes.

She stared at the wood stove, her mind's eye upstairs. Separated by mere inches of wood, her lust object was getting naked, that beautiful body revealed as boots and sleep clothes were shucked. Sighing, Lainey was amazed at the flicker of desire tingling through her blood stream. Even at the crack of full sunlight, with little sleep, and the threat of sore ribs and hard work ahead, the mere whisper of sex could turn her on. What the hell was that about? It had not always been this way, had it?

As promised, Lainey learned more about the care and feeding of dogs than she ever thought possible. The sheer amount of time involved should not have surprised her, what with ninety- five dogs to feed, but it did. She and Howry watched as sixteen gallons of water were carefully measured out and poured into the metal drum by Rye. While he lit the propane fire below, Lainey helped Scotch collect fifteen frozen salmon from the freezer. They went into the pot, heads and all, and the Fullers had a laugh at Lainey's wrinkled nose. The dogs watched the process with eager anticipation.

The fishy mixture was brought to a boil, someone always stirring with a snow shovel, and then it was allowed to cool. The crew went over the lists posted by the door in the barn, figuring out which animal required something out of the ordinary and what sort of supplements were needed. The dog stew was brought back to a second boil. When allowed to cool again, Scotch utilized a stepladder and chopped the now pliable salmon into chunks. A third boil came and went, this time with Irish using a large empty coffee can to measure rice into the stew.

Lainey watched in dismay as yet a fourth boil was achieved. At the rate things were going, it would be noon before they finished. This time, Rye turned the propane completely off, and covered the pot. The reporters were given various measurements of vitamin supplements, bone meal, and dry chow that were added to the cooling result. Then they were handed pails to fill.

This was Lainey's first foray among the dogs. Fortunately, they seemed far more interested in the contents of her bucket than her, though there were one or two who gave her a suspicious eye. She noted the Fullers giving each animal a little undivided attention, and began to do the same. Before she was finished with her assigned section, she had stepped in three piles of dog crap, her sturdy work jeans were layered in dog hair, and her hands were slathered with saliva from polite dogs thanking her for their meal.

She returned to the kitchen with a stupid grin on her face, the canine enthusiasm having rubbed off on her as thick as their shedding coats.

More water was poured into the leftovers, and a second trip was made. Then followed a round of scooping up excrement. The dog kitchen was cleaned up, the proper animals put into the two runs, and one let off her chain to run free about the kennel. Lainey carefully placed a checkmark beside Heldig's name, wondering where the Fullers came up with the names and how they could keep them straight.

In the main house, she felt bone tired. It had been awhile since she had had a workout like this. She eyed the siblings with new respect; doing this day in and day out from childhood had to give them a hardiness that few their age acquired. She remembered seeing Scotch's bare arms that morning, seeing the play of muscle beneath the pale skin, and had a good understanding where it came from.

Breakfast was over. The family sat around the table, and Lainey realized this was standard practice for them. All meetings must take place here. Helen, dressed in sweater and jeans, had a notepad and pen. Her husband, Thom, was dressed in a long sleeve white shirt, the collar undone and a t-shirt peeking from beneath. Both of them worked today, and were ready to get with it as soon as business was concluded.

“The Fuller Kennel board of directors is called to order,” he said. "All members present and accounted for.”

Lainey blinked at the formality, glancing at Bon who played under the table with an empty shoebox.

As if reading her mind, Rye smiled. "Yeah, he's a board member, too. We all are.”

"Interesting,” Howry muttered, scribbling a note.

Thom said, "We're here to finalize some things with Ms. Hughes and Mr. Howry at their request.”

Everyone, including Howry, looked expectantly at Lainey.

She refrained from chewing her lip at the sudden attention. Barely. All those blue eyes, patient as they regarded her, seemed guileless. What would they look like when she explained the changes the magazine had insisted upon last month? Lainey focused on Scotch, wondering if she would be all right with it or not.

"Well, as you know, I made arrangements for Don to accompany me on this adventure. I wasn't sure what to tell you as to the why of it.” She took a deep breath. "I realize that what I tell you might be a deal breaker. If you don't agree to the changes my editor wants, then I understand.”

"What sort of changes, dear?” Helen asked. "It certainly can't be all that bad.”

Lainey steered her gaze away from Scotch's wary expression. What did she think would be said? Would she decide against the idea? "I originally contracted with Cognizance to do a series on Scotch's next run for the Iditarod. However, my editor's bosses have decided to do another piece, as well. Don,” and she waved to indicate the man beside her, "will do the series on Scotch.”

Irish frowned. ‘so, what'll you be doing?”

Lainey sighed. "I have been asked to run the Iditarod.”

CHAPTER NINE

"YOU MEAN LIKE enter the race on your own?” Irish asked.

“That's the idea.” Howry said.

"What?” Rye snorted. "You don't know the first thing about mushing.”

"Regrettably true,” Lainey said. She avoided Scotch's eyes, not wanting to see what her response was to the news. “The magazine has done some research into the cost of such a venture. “They're allowing me to offer you thirty thousand dollars to train me, and to give me the use of a team and equipment for the next Iditarod.”

Thom whistled at the amount. "You know some kennels would ask for more.”

She met his gaze squarely. "I know. In addition, you'll still receive the monthly amount we originally agreed to pay for our room and board. That ultimately works out to more than what you would get for a simple training contract. Besides, Don and I will both continue working, so there's the added manpower you won't be required to pay for.”

"What if I refuse?”

Lainey's heart thumped at the seriousness in Scotch's voice, and she finally looked at her. Regardless of the uncertain position she had put the Fullers in, Scotch emanated the same confidence that had first drawn Lainey. They both had no doubt that her family would back whatever Scotch decided. She wondered if this was the source of Scotch's self-assurance, and felt a little let down. Surely it could not be as simple as that.

Rather than blow smoke up Scotch's ass, Lainey chose to be truthful. This young woman deserved to know the reality of the situation, and Lainey knew she could handle the information. “Then I leave. Don will remain behind to do an original piece about your training. I've been instructed to approach two other kennels with the training offer.”

Scotch's ears almost perked up with interest. She leaned forward, elbows on her knees. "Which kennels?”

The sudden interest confused Lainey, and Howry answered. "Either the Larsen's or Mythic Spirit Kennels.”

At the second name, Scotch scoffed, sitting upright. “The Thorpes?" she demanded. “They barely know how to point their dogs in the right direction!"

"You'd be lucky if they gave you a team worth the effort of training,” Rye said.

"Be lucky if she didn't have to scratch the first day,” Scotch told her brother.

"Don't they still bite their dogs' ears?” Helen asked, receiving a round of disgusted agreement from her family.

"Biting ears?” Lainey asked slowly, wondering if they were putting her on. Her face contorted at the thought of putting a furry ear in her mouth.

Scotch's demeanor lightened at her expression. She smiled. "Yeah, it's a method of control some people use to keep their teams in line.”

"Uck,” Lainey said. Shaking herself, she said, "Okay, maybe not Mythic Spirit Kennels.”

The laughter died away. Everyone focused on Scotch who rubbed her jaw in thought. Beneath the table, even Bon stared at her, and Lainey found his highly tuned familial instinct intriguing. It had been a long time since she had enjoyed a family dynamic; had she missed seeing the subtle wordless play in others, or were the Fullers unnaturally receptive to one another?

"I can't say that I like it,” Scotch finally said. "I need to concentrate on my team when I'm training for the race. I can't allow any distractions.”

Lainey felt her spirits flag. The other kennels were located across the state. She wondered if she could break the contract with Strauss without damaging her credibility or reputation. The prospects were not that good.

"Why'd they pick you?” Rye asked.

Brought out of her musings, Lainey said, "Excuse me?”

"Why you? Why not Don?”

Lainey considered the question. “The initial pitch was mine, I guess. That and I focused my premise on a woman musher with potential for winning.” She shrugged. “They wanted a companion piece to a professional woman racer; hence a rookie woman racer.”

“So, if we don't go through with training you, Scotch still gets the national coverage?" Thom asked.

"Oh, yes.” Howry hastened to ease their minds. “That plan remains the same. It's just that I'll be doing the piece instead of Lainey.”

Scotch said, "Larsen's good, but his kennel isn't that large. His second string will be pretty poor. And he doesn't have the extra time to train anyone, either.” She snorted. "I'm not even going to get into the pros and cons of the Thorpes.”

"Just as well,” Helen murmured.

Lainey saw Scotch studying her with an odd intensity. Her body responded to the expression, and she was glad she had worn a heavy sweater as her nipples hardened. God, those eyes were penetrating.

Whatever Scotch was searching for, she seemed to have found it. "All right. Let's do it.”

Ears buzzing faintly, Lainey wondered if she was going to pass out from the shock of relief flooding her system.

"You sure?’ Thom asked his daughter.

"Yeah.” She nodded, sitting back with speculative demeanor. "Rye and Irish can help train her on the basics. And I can give her the specifics she'll need for the Iditarod itself.”

“Sure. Besides,” Rye said to Lainey, "you'll place higher with one of our teams. There's a better selection of dogs to choose from.”

Lainey cleared her throat, realizing that the decision had been made. "You don't need to vote?”

Thom grinned. "Well, I suppose. Just to make it official. All those for accepting a trainee for the Iditarod?”

Every Fuller raised their hand, even Bon who laughed and raised both.

"Well, there you go.’ Thom glanced at a clock. "Holy smokes, I've got to get going or I'll be late. Meeting adjourned.”

That was the catalyst as everyone stood. Thom headed out the door, grabbing a construction helmet on the way. Helen chased after to give him a kiss good bye, and then returned to the table.

"Welcome to the family, dear,” she said, giving Lainey a hug. "You, too, Don. I'll see you at lunch.” With that, she scooped Bon from beneath the table, and carted him out the door.

"I'll be back in a half hour,” Scotch said after placing her plate in the sink.

Lainey wondered if Scotch was a bit more wary around her. Or was Lainey projecting her uncertainty about the situation? She had hoped to spend time with Scotch after this revelation to assess the potential damage to their non-existent working relationship. "Where are you going?”

"We have a day trip scheduled for some tourists. I've got to pick them up in town. You'll be on your own today.”

"You can hang with me,” Irish offered.

"What are the chances of joining the day trip?” Howry asked.

Rye filled the sink with water in preparation of doing dishes. "Not good. Only if there's a cancellation. The carts hold five people each, and the reservation is for ten.”

"I've got to scoot.” Scotch strode out of the kitchen.

It was all Lainey could do to not follow her. Had she irreparably damaged things? Was Scotch's attitude just a tad cooler than earlier this morning? Lainey did not know whether to laugh at the ridiculous concern or cry that it could be true.

This draw was too strong, it was more than she had imagined in March. Maybe she should back out now. Find a lawyer to help annul her contract with Cognizance, and take the next flight to Peru to photograph monasteries. That brought a different level of panic than what she already experienced. When the hell did life get so damned complicated? Christ, she needed a drink!

The thought dashed cold water on her jitters. Nothing was so bad she needed to resort to the bottle again. Not even absurd physical attractions that caused her to question everything about her sanity.

She took a bracing breath, and smiled at Irish. "I'd love to hang with you today. You can show me the ropes about sleds, and give me a personal introduction to the dogs.”

Her reward was a brilliant smile, so like Scotch's that it took Lainey's breath away. Irish grabbed Lainey's hand, and tugged her toward the door. "Cool! Come on!"

Lainey gave Howry a wave, receiving a wink for the effort before she was dragged out the door by the pleased nine-year-old.

Scotch had a difficult time keeping her attention on their visitors. They were a group of retirees living out of their motor homes as they traveled Alaska. The youngest was an energetic fifty-four years of age. It helped that Scotch spent a good deal of their trip guiding the dogs. Ahead of her, Rye had a full load, as well.

The group pulled into Lafferty's fish camp, a regular stop on this run, and met by Ray Lafferty himself. Whenever an over night or daytrip was scheduled, the old timer was notified by radio. In return for a percentage of the fees the kennel charged, he gave the tourists a fun mountain man experience, and fed them a rustic lunch.