Broken Trails

What would happen when it was over? The Iditarod finished for another year, the Cognizance article filed and published … What then? Another job, another article, more travel, that was what. Lainey had to go where the money was. That was the joy and the curse of free lance work. Strauss would possibly have an idea for an article, or Lainey could check in on a number of other magazines to find something interesting to pick up or pitch. Off she would go to grab photos of exotic wildlife far from here.

Lainey had no illusions that Scotch would join her. The dogs were Scotch’s life. Alaska was Scotch’s life.

Where did that leave their relationship then?

Grumbling to herself, Lainey stopped the dogs to snack them. They all had healthy positive attitudes, and she did not know if she should snarl at them or let them jolly her out of her rapidly plummeting mood. Chibee wriggled and licked her face as she checked him, his breath foul with the frozen white fish he just finished gulping down. Unable to help herself, Lainey laughed, and her grinned at her, pleased.

“Thanks, boy. Nothing like a doggie kiss to wake me up to reality.”

Whatever she decided between here and Nome, she would survive. Scotch would survive. They were both tough and confident, able to handle anything the world sent against them. If they were destined to be together, fine. If not, at least it had been a wonderful and entertaining year.

She finished checking the dogs and climbed onto her sled. “Let’s go!”

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

LAINEY ARRIVED AT the Galena checkpoint at nine fifty-seven on Saturday morning. She had been on the trail for a full eight days. Running on automatic, she parked the team, fed and watered them, and settled them for their nap. She completed the entire process in less than an hour. Earlier in the race she would have been impressed with her increased efficiency. Her mind was numb from lack of sleep and boredom, however, alternating between morose thoughts about Scotch and the waking dreams of the sleep deprived. Fortunately, the team had not been too affected by her temperament. They frisked a bit before settling into their straw beds for some much needed sleep.

Once they were cared for, Lainey got her child sled out and found her food drops. She lugged them back to the sled, but did not bother to open and sort through them. There was something a bit more important she had to take care of, and the sooner she did, the sooner she could join the dogs in slumber.

As in Ruby, the Galena checkpoint was the village community center. Lainey stepped inside with an armload of gear. She was in luck and located room to hang the things to dry. Once that was done she cornered one of the volunteers, a thin native woman.

“Hey, is the cafe open yet?”

The volunteer smiled. “It should be. But there’s lots of food here to choose from. And our moose stew is the best in the Yukon.”

Lainey tried to inhale through stuffed sinuses, but could not smell a thing. A buffet sat along one wall, laden with food - even a full roast turkey that had been picked nearly clean by now. “I don’t doubt that,” she said, grinning. “But I’m looking to buy cooking oil or butter for my dogs. At least enough to get me to Unalakleet.” She chuckled to herself. Man, that sounded odd. Never in her wildest imaginations had she thought she would ever ask for lard for dogs.

Despite the strange request the woman, who introduced herself as Suzy, did not bat an eye. Instead, she scooped up her parka and put it on. “I’ll take you. I’ve got a snow machine right outside.”

Lainey blinked. “Oh, You don’t have to do…”

“Don’t be silly! You’ve been on the trail for days and need your rest as much as your dogs do. The sooner we get this done, the sooner you get food and sleep.”

Lainey was hustled out the door and onto a snow machine. Moments later, tired amusement on her face, she was ushered into a tiny cafe. Four booths lined the wall to the left, and a breakfast counter stood to the right. A double swinging door led back to the kitchen, and she saw a cook through the serving window behind the counter, leaning on one hip and reading a book. The air smelled of bacon and eggs and coffee.

“Wait here.” Suzy waved her to a stool at the counter, and disappeared, presumably into the kitchen.

Bemused, Lainey sat and glanced around at the other occupants. A young couple sat at one of the booths, both nodding greeting to her which she returned. Lounging at the counter a few seats down, a grizzled old man returned her stare.

“Musher?” he asked before she became embarrassed at her rudeness.

“Yeah.”

He sucked his teeth and looked her over. “Rookie, huh?”

Lainey grinned. “Is it obvious?” she asked, looking down at herself for a sign. Maybe it was hanging above her head, blinking in garish neon.

The man chuckled. “Sometimes. I seen them all come every year, ever since the first one through here. Haven’t seen you before. I’d remember.”

She laughed. “Yeah, this is my first Iditarod.”

“Suzy said you needed cooking oil or something?”

Lainey turned to the waitress, another native woman, that had appeared from the back with Suzy at her side. “Yes. It’s been colder than I expected, and I wondered if you had any oil or butter to spare that I could buy. I need to increase the dogs’ fat intake.” She felt a wave of absurdity as the words came out of her mouth. The thought of walking into a restaurant in Queens and asking the same thing almost caused a snort, but she fought it down.

The waitress took it in stride, which made the entire situation even more absurd in Lainey’s eyes. “I think we could help. I could give you two pounds of butter and a gallon of cooking oil.”

“Really? That would be great. How much do you want for it?” She reached under her parka in search of an inner pocket where she kept her money.

The waitress dithered a bit, looking at the other patrons with a frown as she figured out monetary values. She finally quoted a price that was well below what Lainey had expected. The village was literally in the middle of the wilderness, and everything had to be trucked in through fair weather and foul. That made costs she took for granted in the lower states double or even triple in some places up here.

She was certain arguing the point would only insult the woman, so Lainey paid what was asked and the waitress went back into the kitchen area to get the goods. As soon as she was out of sight, Lainey folded a twenty dollar bill in half and slipped it under a sugar container with the corner peeking out. She blushed as she realized both the old man’s and Suzy’s sharp eyes had seen her furtive movement. He nodded, a smile on his face, and sipped his coffee. Suzy acted like nothing had happened.

“Here you go,” the waitress said. “Would you like any coffee or anything? I’ve a fresh pot. We could whip you up a great breakfast, too.”

Lainey took the brown paper bag and stood. “I’d love to, but I’ve only got a few hours of sleep before I head out. Thank you so much for this. You’re a life saver.”

The waitress reddened and smiled. She brushed at her apron, but appeared pleased. “You’re welcome. Maybe some time you can come back for a good meal.”

“I’d like that.”

“What’s your name?” the old man asked as Lainey edged toward the door with Suzy.

“Lainey Hughes.”

“Good luck, Lainey Hughes,” he said, lifting his cup in salute.

The others in the cafe murmured the same, and Lainey thanked them before stepping outside.

Soon she was back at her sled, stomach full from a meal of moose stew and fresh buttered rolls. Her team slept on, and she joined them. She was unconscious before her head hit the rolled up clothing she used as a pillow.