Broken Trails

She sat down, and her stomach growled.

“Sounds like you’re hungry,” Molly observed. “Good thing. I’ve made enough to feed an army but half the troops are still asleep.” She gestured toward the living room with her spatula.

Lainey was glad her face was already reddened from the weather. It took an effort, but she slipped into professional mode, giving Scotch a smile of thanks when she delivered a steaming cup of coffee. “I’m not sure I said this last night, but thank you for putting me up and feeding me.”

Molly waved her gratitude away. “I volunteer every year. Having you folks through McGrath is a celebration. Thom and Helen have bunked here every time for the last ten years.” She flipped the toast in the pan. “And I’ve been watching this scamp since she first entered the Junior Iditarod.”

Scotch sat down beside Lainey, still smiling.

“Scamp, huh?” Lainey asked.

Scotch shrugged, eyes twinkling.

“Scamp,” Molly intoned. She removed the pan from the burner, and put the toast onto a plate already piled high. Transferring the plate to the table, she set it before Lainey. A motherly hand reached out to rub Lainey’s shoulder. “Eat up. There’s plenty more where that came from.”

“Thank you!” Lainey tucked into her breakfast, almost moaning as the French toast and maple syrup hit her tongue. It was a far cry from her lustful daydreams, but just as satisfying.

As they ate, Molly kept up a running chatter about other mushers who had come through her home. She never let their coffee run low, constantly topping off their cups as she puttered around the kitchen. Lainey heard all about the mushers who had spent time in the spare bedroom on their way through to winning the race. Some tales were humorous and some rather acerbic, but Molly seemed proud to be involved with the Iditarod in this way.

Lainey ate until she was ready to burst. Finally, she stared mournfully at her plate, a half eaten slice of toast soaking in syrup.

“Finished?”

Her taste buds screamed no, but Lainey nodded. “Unfortunately.”

Molly grinned and took their plates.

“That was wonderful, as usual,” Scotch said, leaning back to stretch luxuriously.

“Yes, it was.” Lainey startled herself with a yawn.

Molly chuckled, wiping the table before them. “Needing a nap already?”

“Appears so.”

Lainey stuck her tongue out at Scotch, receiving a slight wiggled eyebrow in response. She ignored the sudden flush of desire through her body. “I’ve got too much to do. I really need to get to my dogs.”

“Me, too.”

As they both stood, Molly retrieved keys from a peg board by the kitchen phone. “Here. Take the snow machine.” She bustled to the sink. “Since you’re checking out around five, Scotch, I’ll have a decent dinner ready by three, okay?”

Scotch came up behind the shorter woman and hugged her, kissing her temple. “That’d be great. You’re fantastic, Molly.”

Molly clucked and shooed them away, though Lainey could tell she was pleased with the attention. She gave their hostess her thanks before trailing after Scotch to the bedroom.

Her eyes needed to adjust to the darkness, so she crept along until she located the correct door. Stepping in, she carefully closed it behind her. Before she stepped further into the room, Scotch grabbed her and pressed her against the door.

“I said I was going to get that kiss from you after you brushed your teeth,” she whispered.

Their lips met, and Lainey moaned. Scotch tasted of coffee and syrup, and she opened her mouth in invitation. Their hands roamed each other’s bodies, their tongues pursuing one another back and forth. Any relief Lainey had achieved from her shower activities was demolished under the weight of a fresh wave of arousal. Their intimacy lasted forever, it lasted years, yet it ended far too soon. Scotch was breathing hard as she rested her forehead on Lainey’s. She licked her lips, and Lainey so wanted to reach forward with her own to help.

“That was nice.”

Lainey chuckled breathlessly. “You have a magnificent ability for understatement,” she said, squirming a little to feel Scotch’s body against hers.

“Thank you,” Scotch laughed. “I’ve cultivated it for years.” She gasped as Lainey slid beneath her sweater. “Unfortunately, we have chores to do and a race to run.”

Pouting, Lainey caressed Scotch’s belly, no longer reaching upward to take rounded breasts into her palms. “Nome.”

“Nome,” Scotch promised.

Lainey pushed away from the door, forcing herself to disengage from the luscious body that had pinned her. “You’re driving me insane.”

“At least you have company for the trip,” Scotch said, stepping back.

“Well, let’s go get the dogs fed before I change my mind.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

LAINEY SMILED WHEN she saw her team. Most of them still slept, but Kaara jumped up at her approach. Her sleeping mate, Bonaparte, barely acknowledged the loss of her warmth, rolling over and giving Lainey his back.

“Hey, sweet girl,” Lainey murmured, squatting down to give the dog some undivided attention. “Did you have a nice nap?”

A couple of others shook themselves from their slumber at the sound of her voice, and she proceeded to scratch and rub anyone awake enough to want the petting. Bonaparte got to his feet but continued to ignore her. She resisted the urge to force herself upon him, not wanting him to become too mutinous. After the race was over, she planned on really pissing the mutt off for all those months of suffering his regal attitude. Grinning in anticipation, she pulled a bag of moose liver from the sled and snacked them. Even her morning sourpuss, Meshindi, gave up his grumbling when she offered him his favorite treat and Bonaparte finally deigned to acknowledge her presence.

Once everyone was awake, she doled out the dog chow from the cooler. In no time, her team enjoyed a substantial meal, wolfing their breakfast down in much the same way she had at Molly’s. While they dined, she grabbed water from the checkpoint boiler to start their next meal. She sorted through her clothing, separating dirty socks, wet booties, and damp work gloves from the much smaller pile of clean and dry items. Her hostess had insisted she use her washer and dryer rather than drag everything down to the local laundromat.

When the dogs finished eating, Lainey went down the line and collected their plates. She scooped up excrement, freshened their straw beds, and swapped out wet blankets and dog coats for fresh. Regardless of Molly’s insistence, Lainey intended to wash the dog stuff at the public laundromat. No reason to clog up the woman’s filters with tons of dog hair.

She spent the next hour tending each dog starting with her leaders, Trace and Sholo. She petted and massaged each one, even Bonaparte, giving them bonding time with her at the same time she examined them for latent injuries. Paws were carefully examined and salve applied. Heldig received a different concoction than the others, one prepared for the express use of extra healing. It was thicker in texture and Lainey slathered it onto the abraded pads of Heldig’s paws, hoping the rest and herbs would keep her on the trail longer.

When she got to Himitsu, she gave the yellow brown dog a little more loving than the rest. His usual partner on the line had been Tecumseh. With his buddy dropped, he now ran alone for the most part, and Lainey wanted him to know how much she depended on his quiet, well-mannered ways. Besides, he was one of her major trash talkers, and she rather enjoyed hearing him cuss out the other teams.

Chibee wriggled in pleasure at her approach. Being the youngest, he still held a lot of puppy like appeal and energy. Lainey appeased his adolescent urges by wrestling with him until he was on his back, and then gave him a thorough tummy scratching. He grinned at her, tongue hanging from the side of his mouth and eyes twinkling.