Race Against Time (9 page)

“They’re excited that we’re coming.” Her steps picked up speed.

Her braid swayed back and forth in time to the spring in her step as they approached her animals. She loved this. How long had it been since he loved what he did? Could he ever have that same passion? A long moment passed as Anesia punched in a code, opened the gate—and the yearning in his soul grew.

She ushered him in and closed the gate. “You might want to stay here and watch for a few minutes. They need to get used to your smell. Otherwise, they’ll be all over you.”

“Okay.” He heeded her words. The sight in front of him was overwhelming, to say the least.

Dogs as far as the eye could see. Jumping, running in circles, and barking in glee at their master. The doghouses were all lined up in rows—one house for each dog. A steel pole stood beside each house, and the dogs were attached to their pole by a long chain. Long enough to give them a wide circle of running room around their houses, but short enough to keep them out of each other’s domain.

Sean couldn’t help but chuckle at the antics of these prized animals. Some circled their house over and over, while others jumped in the air, onto their doghouses, or attempted flips to get Anesia’s attention. The cacophony of barking would have driven any of his Boston friends mad and sent them reaching for their earplugs.

Working her way up and down the rows, she spent time with each dog, loving on them, talking to them, rubbing their ears. And they adored her. They licked and barked, and nuzzled up to her.

He allowed his gaze to roam over the acre of enclosed property and understood the job with a clarity he hadn’t anticipated. These dogs were her livelihood. But they weren’t just dogs. They were family. Several times she stopped and knelt beside one, checking paws, feeling limbs, looking over their coat. Each one needed care and attention.

He looked to the far end of the kennel and noticed smaller, separate fenced-in areas. He walked toward them to check them out.

“Those are the isolation kennels.” Anesia fell into step beside him.

“Isolation?”

“Yes. For the dogs in heat that we don’t want to breed at the time, for an injured dog, or for a misbehaving dog that might be bullying or hurting others.”

“So, in a way, it’s like what some parents call a time-out?”

“Very astute, Mr. Connolly.” Anesia laughed. “Exactly like that, yes.”

“In essence, you have another seventy-five children.”

She leaned her head back and laughed louder. A beautiful sound. “Sean, you crack me up.” She smacked him on the arm. “I think you’ll fit in fine.”

Her acceptance warmed but unsettled him all at the same time.

“Come. Meet the dogs.” Anesia took hold of his arm and tugged him toward the yapping masses.

Stopping just beyond the reach of the nearest dog, Anesia held out her arms. “Well, here they are.” Her face absolutely glowed. This was her love. Her life. “The chains have colors on them, do you see?”

Very interesting. “I do now. Why are they colored?”

“Helps us keep track of the different litters. All the dogs from a litter are given a color. The blue chains are the Bible Litter. The green are the Glacier Litter. The pink, the Painkiller Litter—”

He frowned. “Painkiller?”

Her dark eyes twinkled. “Yep. Zoya names all the dogs. That particular litter was born after a friend was in the hospital.”

“So what are their names?”

“Morphine, Aspirin, Ibuprofen, Percocet, Codeine, and Caffeine.”

“Caffeine?” He furrowed his brow. “I didn’t know that was a painkiller.”

“In Alaska, Sean, you’ll find out that caffeine can cure just about anything.”

He couldn’t help it. He grinned.

Anesia continued down the rows. He followed. Just like a puppy himself.

“The red are the Sweets Litter, yellow is the Weather Litter. Over here, in orange, is the Flower Litter, purple is the Wildlife Litter, white is the Herb Litter, black is the Ice Cream Litter, and the multicolored chains are the Alaska Litter.”

“What about those two rows over there?”

“Those are the two that are sold to a man from Iceland. He won’t be here for another month or so to pick them up, but he wants to start breeding his own and he likes ours because they’ve proven to be fast.”

“Fascinating.” Sean took another long look around the kennel. “They’re beautiful. But not what I expected. What breed are they?”

“German short-haired pointer and Alaskan Husky mix.”

He nodded. “Anesia, forgive me. But this is a lot of information to take in all at once. I’m still processing.” His fingers itched to grab his camera out of the truck. The dogs would be great subjects.

She smacked his arm. Again. “Don’t worry about it, and don’t be so serious. You can lighten up, you know. You don’t have to be all ‘professional’ out here, but I do need you to care and do your best.”

What a change! In the office she’d seemed so serious, all business. Out here? She was vibrant. Totally in her element. Even . . .

Joyous.

“Uh, thank you. I will. I had no idea.” This job wasn’t about manual labor. He would be caretaking. All these beautiful animals. And it mattered.

“It’s all right. Let’s head back to the house. I’ll show you some more after lunch.”

He couldn’t hold back the request any longer. “Would you mind if I took some pictures out here sometime? Your dogs are handsome animals.”

A smile lit her face. Pride shining from head to toe. “They are gorgeous, aren’t they? Sure, you can take pictures. Are you a photography buff?”

“I am. Have always enjoyed being behind the camera, peering at the world through a lens.” An uncomfortable feeling filled his stomach. Time to change the subject. “I took the liberty of doing some research last night. Sounds like you and Zoya are quite the champions.”

She kept walking toward the house.

“I know this is racing season, so might I inquire about when your next race will be?”

She spun to face him. No trace of her brilliant smile remained. “We won’t be doing any racing for a while, Mr. Connolly.”

CHAPTER NINE

ANDIE

January 15

Naltsiine Kennels

12:26 p.m.

“I think Auntie Anesia’s outside.” I pushed the soft silky curtains out of the way. Then peeked out the window.

Sure enough, Auntie and Mom were talking to a man.

A strange man. A really strange man.

Who is he and what’s he doing here?

I squinted. Nope. Never seen him before . . . I shrugged off the questions and turned back to Zoya.

Would Auntie and Mom let us go?
I hope so!
This had to work. If it didn’t, I should give up and retire.

Zoya stood and headed for the door. It was the most of a smile I’d seen in days. Even though it wasn’t very big. Wasn’t even a smile.

God, what’s wrong with her? She’s acting strange . . .

It hurt to see her so upset. And yet she kept saying nothing was wrong. It hurt more knowing that she wasn’t telling me something. She had just closed up. Acted like a robot—stiff. Forced movements.

Something was really wrong.

We grabbed our coats and walked outside. The cold air hit my face with a big
swoosh
. Hopefully it wouldn’t start snowing. I tugged my coat closer.
Just be thankful you’re not too hot, Andie.

Thanks, God.

Zoya didn’t seem to notice the cold. Like she was in another world, far away from everything. And everyone.

I had no idea how to get her back.

We walked on in silence. The dogs barked and jumped around their doghouses. Birds chirped and sang their joyful melodies.

Zoya didn’t say a word.

I was sick and tired of the quiet.
Sick and tired! Girl, you need to suck it up and get back to normal. Wallowing isn’t going to help. Just try not to think about it.

“Mom?”

So she spoke. Improvement. I raised my eyebrows. If I could just get her to keep it up . . .

Auntie and Mom turned and smiled at us. “Hey girls.”

I waved. If only they could read my expression. I dropped my eyes. Then looked to Zoya.

Auntie turned to the man standing beside her. “This is Sean Connolly. He might help us with the dogs.”

I tried to smile, but how could I when my friend wasn’t being herself? She didn’t even say hello to the man. Urgh. Maybe she just needed someone to hit her over the head with a two-by-four.

Auntie must have seen my expression. She gave a slight nod.

“Hello, Mr. Connolly.” I cleared my throat and looked at the stranger from head to toe, which was pretty hard to do since he was taller than Cole. Impressive.

He was muscular, not like Cole, but muscular just the same. He had green eyes and blond hair and his clothes were clean as a whistle. Had they been any cleaner, they might have shone like one.

Nice jeans. Too bad they wouldn’t stay clean for very long. I smiled. Not with Zoya’s dogs.
No, sir! You might as well kiss those pants goodbye. You’ll need somethin’ a lot sturdier than those high-dollar jeans if ya wanna work here.
I scanned him again.

The shirt! The shirt was just plain, good ol’ fashioned
wrong
. What man in his right mind would wear a button down Oxford to work in a dog kennel?

All in all, this guy was weird.

Where on earth was he from anyway? The White House? Buckingham Palace? Mars?

“You can call me Sean, if you would prefer.”

I nodded. Hmmm . . . So he didn’t speak Martian. No British accent.

Must’ve been from the White House.

Zoya said nothing. Just stood there. And stood there some more.

I sighed.

Time for action.

“Auntie, we were wondering, if we could take the dogs out for a run?”

I saw the worry flash in her eyes. “I don’t—”

“Maybe have a picnic?” Was I pushing too much? My “pathetic look” took over my face. I couldn’t stop it. We
really
wanted to go. And besides, maybe it would help Zoya.

Come on, please say yes . . . it’s not that hard. You just sound it out, like so: Ye-eh-sssss . . .

She glanced from me to Zoya.

This didn’t look good.

“We’d be careful. And I’d make sure Zoya didn’t overdo it.” I pleaded with my eyes. That always worked with Cole.

But then again, Auntie’s smarter than he is.
I tried not to smile.
No offense
.

Mom looked to Auntie Anesia’s pale face and shook her head. “Andie, I don’t think—”

“Pleeeeeease?” Time for the puppy-dog pout. I stuck out my bottom lip as far as it would go. It almost hurt. Almost.

At least that brought a smile. From the stranger.

Guilt swirled in my stomach. We weren’t allowed to beg . . .

But desperate times call for desperate measures, right?

Right!

“We’d take it easy, plus if we had a picnic we wouldn’t go very far and would sit down for awhile.” I looked to Zoya. She nodded back.

It was working.
Yes!

“Please, Mom?” Zoya shoved a hand into her pocket and looked up.

Bingo. Two against one. This
had
to work.

“I don’t know.” No missing that being-way-too-careful-for-my-own-good deep breath.

She was worried, but I was too. S
omething
had to get Zoya back to her old self. And—as far as I could see—this was the way to do it.

Auntie’s face changed. I’d never seen that expression before.

Mom held up a hand as she and Auntie exchanged one of those mom looks. “What if I go with you? I think that’s the only way you—”

“Yay!” I clapped. Excitement bubbled up inside.
God, please let this do the trick! I want my friend back.

“But!”

Uh-oh
. The excitement bubble popped.
“Buts”
were never good.

“We’re not going farther than the Chena River.”

Auntie nodded. “And make sure you’re back by three o’clock.”

“So we can have a picnic too?” I raised my eyebrows.

“You can make PB&Js. And there are some small bags of potato chips in the pantry.” Auntie sighed. “Just, be careful. Okay?”

We were making progress. “Yes!” I couldn’t help the happiness, it decided to overflow. I jumped up and down on my toes. Maybe for Zoya’s sake. Maybe to warm up. It didn’t matter, we got to go. Good enough for me!

“Come on, let’s go water the dogs so we can get going before our time runs out.”

Zoya nodded and grabbed my hand, pulling me over to the shed.

I hope this works.

An hour and forty minutes later, we had our lunches packed, the dogs watered, and were checking the harnesses. I petted M&M’s head and looked to Auntie Anesia. She stood by the kennels with The Stranger—Sean—telling him all the dogs’ names.

I think he was confuzzled.

Zoya stood and looked toward the kennels. “Let’s get the dogs set up.”

“Okey dokey.” I smiled and walked over to the dogs.
This has to do the trick.
But what if it didn’t?
It has to!

Zoya hooked up Percocet, Ibuprofen, and Aspirin to her Bewe sled while I hooked up Licorice, Candy Corn, and Snickers to my Danler. We made sure the harnesses were secure, the dogs weren’t tangled—much to Candy Corn’s dismay—and waited for Mom.

Lupine, Moose, and Susitna pulled at their harnesses as Mom fastened the picnic basket to her sled.

The dogs kicked their legs behind them as if saying, “Come on, let’s get going already!”

Snow flew everywhere. I giggled until a chunk of ice slid inside my shirt and down my back.
Eeek! Cold!

I jumped and slapped a hand onto my back. “Cold ice! Cold ice!”

Zoya gave a small smile. “Having problems?”

“No kidding!” I tried to get the ice off my back.
Ick!

Our lead dogs barked. Morphine jumped and twirled, his tail wagging as fast as a hummingbird’s wings.

I sighed and walked over to M&M, my faithful, excited, eager lead dog. The ice melted leaving a cold, wet spot on my back.