Broken Trails

Scotch saw they were returning. She eased out of the truck bed, careful to not wake Bon. Wandering over to one of the tables, she stood and nibbled at potato chips until Lainey and Martin were near enough. ‘Welcome back,” she said. ‘I think I’m going to head home and catch a nap before feeding the dogs. Want to come?’

“That sounds like a great idea!” Lainey answered.

Her lack of hesitation buoyed Scotch’s spirits. ‘Mom took the ATV, but we can walk.’

“I’m in.” Lainey turned to Martin. ‘It was really nice meeting you.” She offered her hand and gave him a handshake.

Scotch grinned at the reappearance of her friend’s ultra professionalism. Apparently Martin had not swayed Lainey to his side after all.

He could do nothing but respond in kind under the watchful eye of the others. ‘Sure. Let me know if you want to go fishing. I know the perfect spots.’

“I’m sure you do. We’ll see how it goes,” Lainey said.

Howry snorted in humor, and Scotch glanced at him. She wondered what was funny, but let it go as Lainey returned to the truck to gather her clothes and change back into her boots.

“Ready? “

Hastily, Scotch grabbed her belongings. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Feeling light at heart, and not knowing why, Scotch joined Lainey at the trailhead.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

October

LAINEY WOKE BEFORE Scotch’s alarm went off. Her room was gray, a product of the eventual return of winter to this area. If she stayed up late enough at night, she could be treated to full dark instead of the impending nightfall that had been all she had seen since her arrival. She stretched in the warmth of her bed, noting the chill on her face. Was it colder than usual this morning?

Knowing from experience to not prolong the torture, she sat up and tossed off her blankets. Had she wanted to return to sleep, she would have eased out from the covers to preserve her body heat inside. At least this way she gave herself a reason to stay out of bed rather than to have a warm haven to which to return. It was colder. She cursed under her breath as her bare feet came in contact with chill boot leather. It was time to start sleeping with a change of clothes. She could kill for warm socks right now.

She shivered, feeling the beginning ache in her ribs. She could even see her breath as she stood and tiptoed toward the stairs. Quietly, she eased past the curtain dividing her half of the loft from Scotch’s. She smiled as she passed through the room, unable to keep from studying her sleeping roommate. This was one of the reasons Lainey enjoyed waking so early; it afforded her an opportunity to examine her favorite subject unawares.

Despite the appearance of not noticing the cold, Scotch had graduated to a long sleeve t-shirt instead of the sleeveless one she had worn through summer. Still, she lay sprawled across her bed, blankets gathered at her waist. Lainey saw an appetizing flash of skin where the t-shirt had hiked up from the waistband of her sleep shorts. Glimpses like this were what fueled Lainey’s desire. She supposed if Scotch had flaunted nudity, Lainey would have become inured to its effect. Instead, the bits and pieces teased her almost to desperation.

Lainey resisted the urge to cover Scotch with her blankets. She had no illusions that she simply desired to be congenial. What she wanted was to touch and explore the available skin, to finally taste it, and to see what remained hidden beneath the layers of cloth and personality.

She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. Scotch seemed to respond to Lainey’s surge of desire. Sighing, she rolled over onto her side, facing her audience, the blankets falling further to reveal the incredible curve of waist, swell of hip, and the barest hint of a pale thigh.

Lainey fled. Considering the strength of her yearning, it was safer to stay far, far away; she was not sure she could fight the impulse in any other manner. It was helpful that Scotch had no return interest in her. At the door, she grabbed a jacket and stepped outside, closing the door softly behind her.

Christ! This was the worst case of infatuation she had ever experienced. Lainey leaned back against the door, its solidness a balm to her unstable emotions. She tried to recollect the number of times she had felt this way about anyone, and was not pleased to realize the answer was never. Part of her uneasiness stemmed from the fact that she was in completely new territory. Even her best friend and fuck buddy, Carol, did not cause this sort of confusion and desire.

There was nowhere to go, nothing to be done about it now. The Fullers had entered into a contractual agreement with Lainey to train her for the Iditarod. She had authorized the transfer of money from her magazine, Cognizance, months ago. Everything was signed, sealed, and - while not necessarily delivered - she expected to run the race of her life in March. If Lainey folded now, she would owe her editor, Strauss, a lot of money. Running was not an option.

The realities of her situation firmly in mind, Lainey took a deep, bracing breath. As soon as the snow hit, things would be different. Training would fill most of her days and nights. Rye had said that winter was a very busy season for the kennel in terms of weekend tourist outings, preparing for the larger races, and attending small sprints and the like. Lainey would just have to make an extra effort to exhaust herself over the coming months. Once the Iditarod was over, she and Howry would take their leave, and she could lose herself in Carol’s arms. For about a month. Lainey had not been laid in a year or more; she had stopped counting the days long ago. All those unspent hormones had to go somewhere. Certainly that had a lot to do with her volatile emotions now.

Heartened with the possible explanation, Lainey stepped off the porch. The ground crunched beneath her boot, and she finally focused on the clearing around her. A thick layer of snow covered the ground, seeming to glow in the growing daylight. The air was crisp, and she saw a stream of smoke rising from the other side of the hill where the main cabin lay. Huddled within her jacket, she trudged toward the outhouse. Oh, yes, it was definitely colder today.

A light sprinkle of snow continued to dust the kennel as Scotch and the rest of the feeding crew did their morning chores. The difficulty lay in paying proper attention to the task. She kept trying to assess how much snow had fallen during the night, whether the trails were thick enough to warrant a shakedown run with the sleds, and which dogs to take on the first official run of the season. Irish and Rye were no doubt thinking along the same lines as they went about their jobs on autopilot. Scotch shared glances of anticipation with her siblings, knowing nothing would keep them off the trails today. There were no tour reservations this morning, and any sightseer in the area might be too caught up in the beauty of an Alaskan snowfall to consider dropping by the kennel.

Howry was equally distracted. He had brought his camera with him this morning, pausing in his chores to grab several shots of Scotch and her dogs excitedly playing in the powder. The animals knew what the change of weather meant, as well, and showed it with an extra level of enthusiasm. Scotch ignored Howry’s activities, having become accustomed to the endless attention. His constant presence was the price she had to pay for agreeing to the magazine articles about her. She had to admit that some days were very trying. Having a bad day sooner or later was inevitable; having one with an observer photographing her every mistake or temper tantrum did not improve matters.

She glanced at Lainey who had become a veteran at chopping the salmon into chunks. The shorter woman stood on the step stool, shovel in hand, as she used the edge of the tool to break up the boiled fish. This scene was a far cry from Lainey’s first day, cringing away from the idea of feeding entire fish to the dogs, to include the heads. Scotch grinned at the recollection. She remembered Cliff, the bush pilot, and his remark that Lainey appeared high maintenance. Scotch was relieved that this had not been the case. If anything, Lainey was extremely low maintenance, more than capable of rolling up her sleeves and digging into whatever was required to complete a task regardless of the level of filth involved.