Broken Trails

Further down the line, shaggy Jonah tugged on one of the disconnected tow lines with his teeth in a broad hint, his desire to get going obvious. Lainey laughed. “Not yet, big fellah. We’ve still got,” and she looked at her watch, “about twelve hours to go before we can blow this joint.” She shook her head. Twelve hours. What a wealth of time. She could get so much done in twelve hours, even a lengthy nap.

“You ready to go?”

Lainey looked at Scotch, smiling. “Yeah.” She gave Jonah a final scratch before gathering up the laundry she had piled in a dog blanket. “I want to stop at the laundromat, too.”

Scotch walked beside her, a bundle thrown over her shoulder. “Why? There’s plenty of time for both of us to get our stuff done at Molly’s.” She waved distractedly at a volunteer who called her name in greeting, but continued to speak to Lainey. “You can grab another nap while I do mine.”

“I don’t want to mess up her machines with the dog blankets,” Lainey said. “She seemed pretty proud of them.” In fact, Molly was very pleased with her facilities, having just bought the washer and dryer new last summer. They were the first new appliances she had ever had, and she bragged for ten solid minutes as she offered their use to the mushers.

“Well, we can do that.” Scotch shrugged. “But you’ll insult her for sure. She wouldn’t have extended the invitation if she didn’t mean for you to use it. And she sure as hell knows what all’s involved with the offer.”

Lainey frowned, peering at her friend. “You sure? I really don’t want to break something.”

“I’m sure.”

Still uncertain, Lainey agreed to give it a shot. Since Scotch was scheduled to leave a couple of hours earlier than her, she would have the first crack at the equipment. If things went well enough, Lainey figured her usage would not screw things up too much.

“Besides, it’ll take more time if you do loads in two different places. Trust me, it seems like you’ve got forever, but the minutes and hours will race by.” Scotch climbed aboard the snow machine, balancing her load in her lap.

Lainey hugged her belongings to her chest. Despite the awkwardness, the ride back to Molly’s was quick and smooth. In no time she was back inside at the kitchen table, drinking coffee and watching Scotch sort through her things. Howry and Strauss were still sacked out in the living room, and Molly was nowhere to be seen, having gone back to bed.

She yawned again, hearing her jaw creak with exertion. Before she could recover, another one burst out of her. “God, I’m sorry,” she finally managed.

“Go to bed. You can use the rest,” Scotch said. She placed a glass of water in front of Lainey. “But drink this first. Part of the reason you’re so tired is you’re not getting enough fluids.”

“Yeah?” Lainey asked, picking up the glass.

“Yeah. You need to drink at least six of your juice packs or Gatorades a day. Have you?”

Lainey, swallowing water, merely rolled her eyes.

“Thought so. If you don’t take care of yourself —”

“You can’t take care of your dogs,” Lainey finished. She lifted her glass again and emptied it. “Yes, ma’am. Point taken.”

When she stood, Scotch intercepted her, and held her close. “Get some sleep. I’ll wake you when I’m done. Three or four hours, not much more.”

Lainey’s eyes slipped shut as she savored Scotch’s proximity. “Okay,” she whispered. She lifted her head, searching blindly for a kiss, and received the sweetest one imaginable. Lainey wanted to draw it out, make it last, not knowing when the next one would come. Someone coughed politely at the door, however, and they broke apart.

Howry leaned against the door jamb, arms crossed and an unrepentant grin on his face. His hair stuck up at an odd angle and it ruined his attempt at a knowing and devilish appearance. Lainey almost laughed aloud, but bit the inside of her cheek to control herself.

“So this is what happens on the trail,” he said, his voice still rough from sleep.

“No, this is what happens in kitchens,” Lainey said. “You can’t imagine what happens on the trail.”

Howry’s grin widened and he wiggled his eyebrows. “Oh, I think I can.” He pushed away from the jamb and walked over to the coffee maker which was near them. “All that snow and ice. A girl’s got to keep warm, right?”

Scotch hugged Lainey closer, but leaned slightly toward Howry. Her voice lowered so no one else could possibly overhear. “And I do a remarkable job.”

Lainey snickered. “I can attest to that.”

He barked a laugh, taking a cup from the dish drainer. “I’ll just bet!” He poured his coffee, and held it to his nose, inhaling deeply of its aroma. “So, what are your plans today, ladies? Other than the obvious.” He nodded his chin at their embrace.

“She is going to bed.”

Howry’s eyes sparkled, and he plastered a mock innocent expression on his face. “Do tell?”

Lainey laughed. “And she is going to do laundry.”

He shook his head and tsked at them. “That’s certainly not how to keep Lainey warm,” he said to Scotch conversationally. “If you’d like, I have some pointers you can use. Not that I’ve had the fortunate experience with her myself, but I’ve heard some stories.” He winked lewdly. “I know exactly what trips her trigger.”

“Really?” Scotch said, intrigue in her tone.

Lainey’s mouth hung open in horror. “You wouldn’t.”

Howry smiled.

“Don,” she growled, moving away from Scotch to glare at him.

“Si, mi amiga?”

“Someday, you’ll find the woman of your dreams. And when you do, I’m going to be there to tell her all about that Egyptian villager you ‘liberated’ from her husband.”

He blinked at her, his expression unreadable. “You wouldn’t.”

It was Lainey’s turn to smile. “Or maybe that little chica in Rio. What was her name? Consuelo?”

“Well, Scotch,” he said without missing a beat. “You might not know this, but I have extensive experience with a variety of laundry soaps. Perhaps we can talk about liquid softeners versus those ugly dryer sheets instead.”

Scotch laughed. “That’ll be fine.”

Smug, Lainey tweaked Howry’s bearded chin and turned away. She got another kiss from Scotch before sauntering out of the kitchen.

The nap did her good. Or maybe it was the water. In either case, when Scotch gently woke her, Lainey felt refreshed for the first time in days.

She tucked Scotch in for her nap and left the bedroom with great reluctance. She might not be wiped any more, but that did not lessen the desire to simply spend time cuddling with her friend. Regretful, Lainey forced herself to focus on her errands. Only seven hours to go before she was back on the trail.

By now everyone was awake. Strauss and Howry chatted on the couch with a small native man. Lainey’s sluggish memory provided a name - Hank, Molly’s husband. Rye and Irish were eating brunch in the kitchen, their mother frying them eggs, and Molly carefully folded Scotch’s laundry.

Despite having had a huge breakfast, Lainey’s stomach rumbled loud enough to be heard. Helen peered at her, and added another pan to the stove. “Get your laundry started and grab a plate.”

“Thanks, Helen,” Lainey said, grinning.

Four hours later, the last of her items tumbling in the dryer, her stomach obscenely full of her second breakfast, Lainey eased back into the bedroom with a cup of fresh coffee. She set it on the nightstand and slipped under the blankets. With gentle strokes, she woke Scotch, enjoying the sleepy warmth under her palms. It took great restraint to not escalate things as the woman beside her moaned and stretched in appreciation. Scotch had no more time to dally. She needed to get some lunch into her and back out to her dogs.