Broken Trails

“No problem,” Lainey said, smiling. Irish had taken to treating her and Howry as extended members of the family. It was kind of nice in an offhand way. Lainey had not been involved in a homelife like this since she was a teenager. She had always wondered what it would be like to have siblings, and the last few months had been a real eye opener.

As she ate, she glanced over at the living room. It, too, looked like a dump. Here the eighteen checkpoints were indicated by colorful paper taped to the walls. At each place were piles of dog booties, dog blankets, socks, gloves, and all other manner of tools and comforts from home that Lainey and Scotch would need to survive the race.

She nodded at the mess. “You guys do this every year?” she asked, dismay coloring her voice. “It’s a lot of work for only a couple of weeks of racing.”

“This year it’s twice the work,” Scotch said.

Helen tsked. “Don’t listen to her,” she told Lainey. “You’re actually forcing us to practice what we’ll be doing next year anyway. I seriously doubt we’d be able to talk Rye out of running. He’s already drumming up sponsors for his rookie year.”

“I don’t think you’ll cooking so much meatloaf next year,” Scotch said, referring to her brother’s distaste for the meal.

“No, but if he can figure out how to pack my turkey vegetable stew, he’ll be in heaven.”

“Freeze it in an ice tray,” Lainey suggested, reaching for a second helping.

“There’s an idea. Stewsicles.” Scotch winked at Irish’s laughter.

The dogs began barking a rowdy greeting to an oncoming vehicle.

“Daddy!”

“Pizza,” Howry reminded the toddler.

“Pizza!” Bon agreed, waving his hands in the air.

Lainey scowled at her colleague. “You know that’s my dinner you’re talking about, the one I’m going to be missing a month from now because you’re eating it today.”

Howry snickered. “You can afford to skip a meal or two. Less weight for the dogs to haul.”

Before she could respond to his joke, Helen gave Howry a stern look. With amazement, Lainey watched him redden just as Irish had moments before.

“Sorry,” he said, eyes twinkling.

Thom stomped into the kitchen from the back deck, carrying a paper sack. “Here’s your batteries,” he said to Scotch as he came into the dining room. He paused to kiss his wife in greeting before handing the bag to his daughter. “Got a couple of bags of Jolly Ranchers and chocolate kisses, too.”

“What about the pizza?” Irish asked.

Thom shrugged and sat down. “It’s in the truck. Figured you wouldn’t need it yet. Mom’s got to get all this stuff packed and ready to go first.” He gestured toward the food laden counter and began dishing up his lunch.

“First one there gets his choice of pizza,” Howry said.

They stared at one another for a split second before exploding from the table. When the dust settled and the yells fell away in the distance, Thom looked at his wife and son, the only ones remaining in the room. “Pass the potatoes, please?”

As the dogs reached the finish line of the Yukon 300, Lainey whooped with euphoria. Several people stepped out to grab the team and she was greeted by race officials who called her official time in.

“Eighth place!” Scotch yelled as she rushed forward.

Lainey leapt into her friend’s arms, and they spun around in the middle of the street under the indulgent eyes of the racing committee.

“You beat Rye in!” Scotch continued. “He’s about thirty minutes behind you.”

“I know! I passed him at the last checkpoint. Tundra’s got a strained ankle. He had to pull her off the line.”

Scotch winced in sympathy as she released Lainey. “Did you eat snow this time?”

Standing on her own, Lainey gave her another hug. “Nope. Stayed upright the entire way.”

“Very good.” She turned to the team of dogs. “Let’s get these guys bedded down. We’re staying about a mile from here at the Baker’s place.”

“Are you hitchhiking?” Lainey asked.

Scotch grinned. “Depends. You going to offer me candy if I get in your sled?”

Lainey’s smile was devious. “Oh, I’ll offer a lot more than candy, sweetheart.”

“Hell, what are we waiting for?” Scotch jumped into the bed of the sled. “Mush on, oh Iditarod qualifier.”

Lainey laughed and waved at the handlers holding her dogs. “Ready? Let’s go!” Tails wagging, the team trotted down the street.

“You’re doing damned good, Lainey,” Scotch said over her shoulder. “The dogs look like they could go for another couple of days.”

“Not all of them,” Lainey said. “Apollo’s heading for home now. Strained his shoulder by the first checkpoint and I had to drop him.”

“He probably took a turn wrong. The rest of them seem ready for bear, though.”

“I hope so. These runs are too short. Just about the time I get into the swing of things, the race is over and it’s time to stand down.” On Scotch’s direction, she ordered the team onto a side road. “On by,” she called as a pick-up truck came toward them. She did not relax until the vehicle was past - Chibee, a two year old team dog full of fun, had a tendency to pull away from the team in a puppyish effort to chase things. Fortunately, the three hundred miles he had already run seemed to have mellowed his playful nature and the truck went by without incident.

“That won’t be a problem next month,” Scotch said. “You’ve been sticking to the six hour rule?”

“Yeah. Six on, six off. It wasn’t easy when people were passing me, though.”

Scotch laughed at her disgruntled response. “Remember the rookie meeting. Just because they’re passing doesn’t mean you won’t be gaining on them four days down the line. If a musher wears out his dogs too early, it’s a blessing for you.”

“I know.” Lainey sniffed. “I still don’t like it. And neither does my team.”

“Good. Got to keep the competitive juices flowing. Sometimes it’s the only thing keeping you slogging down the trail.”

She finally drove her team into a large yard with a cabin. She followed Scotch’s directions and brought the dogs around to the back. A small barn sat there and she halted the team in front of it. Within the hour they had all the dogs fed and bedded down on straw inside. Only then did Lainey begin to feel the exhaustion sweep over her.

Scotch’s arm around her waist held her up as they trudged toward the cabin. “Margaret’s fixed a turkey dinner for you. We’ll get you fed, watered, showered, and bedded down in no time.”

Lainey mumbled a response, simply pleased to be where she was right this minute.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

March

LAINEY STARED AT the mound of gear on the hotel bed. “Do you always get this much stuff at the musher meeting?” she asked as Scotch dumped a matching pile on her bed. Irish, who shared the room with them, happily began sorting through her sister’s items.

“Oh, yeah. Every year we get something from the sponsors. It’s best not to count on it, though.” She pulled out a pair of leather work gloves marked with the name of a business and tried them on.

Sitting down, Lainey started rooting through the goods. She also had work gloves, as well as a two pound sample bag of dry dog food, heavy duty mittens from a sporting goods store, nearly one hundred dog booties in bright neon orange, a travel toothbrush courtesy of a local dentist, two medium sized dog harnesses, and a handy little tool kit in a plastic pouch. Everything was prominently marked with the appropriate logos.

“Can I have this?” Irish asked her sister, holding up the tool kit.

“Sure. You can have the mittens, too, if you want them.”