Fire and Ice (2 page)

She felt Coco’s leg. “You all right, girl?”

Coco licked her hand.

“I know it wasn’t your fault.” Robyn reached into her pocket for a treat and slipped it into Coco’s mouth. Her hands shook as she unhooked the dogs one by one, led them to their kennels, and removed their harnesses. All the time she berated herself. They couldn’t afford mistakes like that. How badly was Grandpa injured? Would Medicare pay for his treatment? The sled would need repair. She’d have to back up several steps in the new dogs’ training. How many slow, steady runs would it take to undo what happened today? How long before they knew they were no longer in control?

She would have to proceed cautiously, to make sure she stayed in control and the dogs never tasted that freedom again. Her mind raced, thinking of ways to set things up so that today’s fiasco never occurred again. Some extra weight on the sled next time would be a start. And she wouldn’t run this particular group of dogs together again for a while. She’d take one or two of this batch at a time, mixing them with others who hadn’t taken part in the episode.

She went into the house and filled two buckets of water. As the water ran, she remembered to call her mother’s supervisor at the store. She cleaned out the dogs’ dishes, surprised that the ice hadn’t melted yet. It seemed like hours since she’d brought the dishes in. Most of them had thawed enough that the thick circles of ice fell out when she tipped the dishes up in the sink.

She carried the water to the dogs then dragged the sled up near the barn. She might be able to fix the wooden frame.

An hour later she still bent over it, almost finished, when her phone rang. She fumbled in her pocket for it. “Mom?”

“Yeah. They’re doing a CT scan, but the doctor wants to keep Grandpa here overnight regardless of the results.”

Robyn exhaled and fought back hot, painful tears. “Mom, I’m sorry.”

“What for? It wasn’t your fault.”

Robyn swiped at her eyes with her free hand and sniffed. “I never should have let Grandpa drive. What was I thinking?”

“Oh, as if you could stop him.”

“I know, but—”

“Honey, listen to me. We both know he’s grown frailer over the last few years. He’s done better this summer and fall, but he’s still not strong. The trouble is, he’s independent, too. He doesn’t want to think he’s too old to ever mush again. And neither one of us wanted to tell him the truth, because we love him.”

Robyn pulled in a deep breath, knowing her mom talked sense. “If the dogs had a mind to, they could have been in Palmer in an hour. At least Max and Tumble turned the team around and came back.”

“Yes, thank the Lord. They brought the team back safe. But it’s time Dad stopped mushing, just like it was time he quit driving the truck.”

Robyn swallowed hard. “I don’t like to think of it. He’s loved sledding all his life. And he’s taught me so much!”

“I know, honey. But this is the way it’s got to be. Now, if you’re okay, I’m going to call the store and see if they can use me for a few hours. We can come in together and see Grandpa tonight.”

“Okay.” Robyn knew they needed the money. Mom couldn’t afford to miss her part-time job if she didn’t have to.

She put her phone away and went back to work on the sled. Grandpa made this sled, and it was a good one. He was never far from her thoughts as she worked. Without his mentoring, she’d never have learned as much about dogs as she did. She certainly wouldn’t have had the opportunity to go into dog breeding and training as a business.

But today she felt like Alaska’s biggest failure.

The next morning, Robyn rose at her usual time—five o’clock—and began preparing the dogs’ breakfasts. Though Grandpa usually got up an hour later nowadays, she missed him, knowing he wouldn’t be around today. The knowledge that he wouldn’t eat breakfast with her after she’d fed the dogs saddened her.

“There’ve been a lot of changes in the last few years,” Grandpa used to say, “and I’ve been against all of them.”

Robyn pushed up the sleeves of her hoodie and sniffed. She could do without any more changes herself. First her older brother, Aven, had joined the Coast Guard. Then their father had died three years ago. Now she’d lost Grandpa, too, at least temporarily. Would it be just her and Mom from now on?

She opened the refrigerator for the meat she’d put in there to thaw overnight. Some people fed commercial food, but the dogs performed better if they ate mostly meat, so that’s what the Hollands fed. Grandpa Steve had experimented over the years with several different feeding programs, and he’d worked out his own formula for a summer diet, changing to one with more fat and certain other nutrients as the racing season approached.

Since his arthritis had worsened, Robyn did most of the heavy work. Grandpa still played a big role in training teams for serious mushers and tending the dogs they raised to sell. He loved playing with the puppies, too.

“Hey, honey. Need any help?”

Robyn turned in surprise to see her mother, eyes puffy from sleep, standing in the doorway.

“No, I’m fine, Mom. Go back to bed.”

“Figured I’d help you this morning and then run to the hospital to see Grandpa before work.” On Wednesday afternoons, Cheryl put in four hours at the grocery store on the highway.

“I’ll be okay.” Robyn flashed a smile she didn’t feel.

“Well, be careful if you do a training run.”

“I will.” She was always careful; but then, accidents had a way of catching you unaware. She hefted two buckets of dog feed and carried them toward the back door. “If Coco’s still limping, I’ll call Rick Baker to see if he can look at her. And maybe I’ll call Darby later and see if she can come play with the puppies for a while.”

Her mother sprang forward to open the door for her, so Robyn wouldn’t have to set the buckets down. “She’d probably love to, and I’ll feel better if I know you’re not all alone here.”

“Mom, don’t let Grandpa’s accident worry you too much. He’s going to be okay.”

“I don’t like his head injury. That CT scan they did yesterday showed a little bleeding in his brain. That’s not good. I’ll feel better when the doctor says he’s going to be all right.”

Rick Baker was headed out the door with his medical bag when his phone rang. He paused in the kitchen and answered it.

“Hi, Dr. Baker? Rick? It’s Robyn.”

He smiled at her tentative greeting. “Yes, it’s me, Robyn. Is anything wrong?” The pretty young woman next door rarely called him, and if she did, it usually meant her dogs needed his professional care. Sometimes he wished she wanted to see him because he was Rick, not because he was the vet who lived close by. He’d been too busy, though, to pursue the idea or the woman.

“One of my dogs had an accident yesterday. Actually, eight of them did, but Coco seems to be the only one who’s hurt. She and Grandpa.”

“Your grandfather was injured?”

“Yes.” Her voice drooped like a slack towline. “He’s at the hospital.”

“What happened?”

She hesitated. “It’s my fault. I let him take a team out. He thought he could handle them. I tried to tell him they were too much for him, but he wanted to do it so badly. I … I caved.”

Rick could almost see her mournful dark eyes. He knew she was well past twenty years old, but today she sounded like a frightened kid.

“Is it serious?”

“We’re not sure yet. They did some tests yesterday, and they’re going to do a few more today. Mom’s there now.”

He glanced at his watch. If he stopped at the Hollands’, he’d arrive at the clinic a few minutes late. But Robyn sounded like she needed a little reassurance. “Would you like me to take a look at Coco before I head for Anchorage?”

“Oh, today’s your day at the clinic, isn’t it?”

“Actually, I’m doing two days a week now. But I can take a quick look.”

“I’d really appreciate it.”

Ten minutes later he walked across the Hollands’ dog lot with Robyn. She described the runaway sled and showed him where the team had collided with the shed wall. She took him into the female dogs’ enclosure and led him to Coco’s tether.

He stooped to greet the injured husky. “Hey there, Coco.” He let the dog sniff his hands before touching her. “Where does it hurt, girl?”

“She hit her right front leg hardest.” Robyn squatted beside him. “She’s probably sore all over today.”

Rick took his gloves off and ran his hand over the dog’s shoulder and leg. “It’s a little warm, and there seems to be some swelling. Not broken, though.”

She nodded. “So, rest? What else?”

“Did she eat her breakfast?”

“Yeah.”

He checked the dog’s eyes and general appearance. Coco seemed alert and happy to see him. He felt her pulse and watched her respiration for a moment. “Okay. Give her a couple of days off, and make sure she keeps warm.” He glanced toward the doghouse. The Hollands were good about providing shelter and bedding for their dogs in winter. “If she seems better then, start light exercise. Let her run free if you can, or put her on a leash and walk her around for ten or fifteen minutes. If she’s no worse the next day, do a little more…. And I’ll try to stop in again tomorrow and see how she’s doing.”

“Thanks.”

He stood and pulled his gloves on. “No problem. And if she’s worse, give me a call.” They walked toward the gate. “I hope your grandfather’s all right.”

“Mom will probably come back for lunch before she goes to work. She’ll tell me what the doctor said then.”

Robyn looked young and vulnerable in her blue quilted jacket. Her dark hair hung in a thick braid over her shoulder, and her eyes held self-reproach.

“Hey.” He reached out with his gloved hand and tilted her chin up. “You’re not blaming yourself for your granddad’s accident, are you?”

She shrugged. “I shouldn’t have let him take the team out.”

Rick considered that. Steve Holland was a stubborn old man. He’d forgotten more about dogs than most men ever learned, and he could dig in his heels when he wanted to.

“Who does your mother blame?” he asked.

Robyn hesitated a moment and looked down. “Grandpa.”

“And who does Grandpa blame?”

“Himself.”

Rick nodded. “So tell me, who’s blaming Robyn?”

She smiled sheepishly but said nothing.

“Right. We all know you couldn’t have stopped him, don’t we?” Before she could protest, he turned her chin again, so that she looked up into his eyes. “This is not your fault.”

“Okay.” She held his gaze, and Rick took his time soaking in the view. He’d known Robyn a little over a year, and she intrigued him. She had a toughness the Alaska terrain and family hardships had taught her, but she had a tender side, too—the one that made her feel guilty when she didn’t deserve it. She stirred a protectiveness in him, but he sensed she wouldn’t accept that from a man unless she was desperate. Or in love.

“I’m going to call you tonight,” he said on impulse.

Her eyebrows rose, forming delicate arches.

He nodded. “I want to check on Coco and your grandpa. So be ready with a report this evening.”

She smiled. “That’s nice of you. Thanks.”

“No trouble.” He left her and walked out toward his pickup. Fifteen minutes late, but fifteen minutes well spent. And tonight when he called, it would be as much to gauge Robyn’s spirits as to check on the two patients. He looked forward to it, and he hadn’t even left her driveway yet.

At about eleven o’clock, Robyn heard her mother drive in. When she went into the house, her mom was just ending a phone conversation.

“Hi, honey. That was a potential customer. A man from California is interested in buying some dogs.”

“That’s great,” Robyn said. “It would be good to sell a few yearlings. That would help our cash flow and give us more space for boarders.”

“Yeah. He … wants to buy some breeding stock. He’s coming next week to look over what you have.”

Robyn stared at her. “I don’t want to sell my breeding stock, Mom. You know that.”

“Honey, we may not have a choice. Besides, you’ve got some adult dogs you planned on selling, haven’t you?”

“A few.” Robyn washed her hands at the sink. Since Dad died, they’d gotten by with the dog business and her mother’s part-time job. But Mom worried a lot about their finances. She never seemed to believe they would have enough money to pay the bills each month. Sometimes Robyn thought Mom would rather get rid of all the dogs and live a “normal” life. But Robyn couldn’t live without dogs.