the main trail, which, in turn, led to the river. He’d avoided running the river before because of the rough pack ice. But Sam was right. If he was going to make good in February, he’d need to start putting longer miles on his team.
When he reached the main trail, he gave Merlin the command to turn to the right. “Gee, Merlin!” He grinned, as the big, handsome, blue-eyed, black-and-white husky veered unerringly to the right. “Good dog!” The idea that one could steer sled dogs with mere voice commands was still novel enough to astound him. Driving a big team of dogs was like driving a freight train from the rear of the caboose without the benefit of rails to keep the train on track, and without a steering wheel to make the turns. A good lead dog like Merlin made the job easy. A simple verbal command and the entire train turned smoothly to the right or the left.
The trail veered suddenly and Merlin disappeared from sight, followed by five pairs of dogs, all running hard. The sled whipped around the corner, and Mac had a split second to assimilate several facts: One, he was airborne; two, his team was below him, descending an extremely steep bank that dropped onto the pack ice of the river; and three, when his sled came down to earth, there was going to be quite a spectacular crash.
And there was. He heard a high-pitched scream and thought for a moment that it had come from him, although it sounded like a woman’s scream.
“Son of a bitch!” he roared just to hear his own voice, which to his relief sounded normal. “Whoa!” The dogs were still running. In fact, they were running faster than they ever had before, even though the sled was on its side and he was being dragged along behind it, gripping the driving bow with all his strength. “Whoa! Merlin, whoa!”
He heard another scream, closer this time, and definitely not coming from him. The scream was followed by a steady stream of excited babbling in a foreign language.
“Kanemoto! Hold your team!” another voice, a woman’s, firm and familiar, shouted in English. “Hideka! Run up and take your lead dogs! Hold them steady! No, Kanemoto, don’t get off the sled! Stay on the brake! The brake! That’s right! I’m going to try to catch that team!”
Oh, no, you’re not, Rebecca Reed, Mac thought grimly as he struggled to right the capsized sled. He got one knee onto the bottom runner, ignoring the pain of the foot board digging into his kneecap. He got his second knee on it, and then both knees were jolted off and he was being dragged face down again. The ice hook was bouncing wildly beside his head, having flipped out of the sled bag when the sled capsized. He seized it with one mittened hand and in the same motion jammed the pointed tips into the ice. The sled stopped so suddenly that his head smashed into the driving bow. He jumped to his feet, jerked the sled back onto its runners and barely had time to get on again before his team lunged forward, ripping the ice hook loose, and galloping madly toward two oncoming teams.
There were screams from the passengers in the other sleds, snarls, barks and growls from the dogs on all three teams, and Rebecca’s voice clashing with his own as they both shouted, “On by! On by!” to their leaders.
“Kanemoto!” Rebecca shouted. “Run with your sled! Don’t let your team stop! Keep them moving!”
Rebecca was driving the first team, which passed Mac’s flawlessly. As she came abreast of him, she gave him a brief up and down, an even briefer smile and a curt, “Hello, Mac. Nice recovery!” Then she turned her head and shouted encouragement to the three clients struggling with the team and sled behind her. The Japanese clients managed to keep their team moving, and soon Mac had the trail to himself again. He looked back to see that Rebecca’s team was charging up the riverbank. Her clients’ team followed close on her heels. When she reached the top, she raised her arm to him in a slow farewell wave. Her action startled him so much he didn’t have time to wave back before she was gone.
REBECCA STOOD under the hot, powerful, therapeutic stream of water in the Dodges’ shower and let her muscles relax for the first time in more than a week. She was tired but she felt great. It had been a good trip, a profitable trip, and she couldn’t wait to tell Ellin about the unexpected bonus she’d gotten. Rebecca squeezed more shampoo from the bottle and lathered her hair for the third time. The tension between her shoulder blades was beginning to ease as the forceful stream of hot water worked its magic.
She exited the bathroom in a huge cloud of steam dressed in clean clothes top to bottom, thick wool socks and expedition-weight fleece. She padded into the warm kitchen with the towel still wrapped in a thick, white turban around her wet hair. “Thank you, Ellin. Once again, you’ve saved my life.”
Ellin poured a second cup of tea and set it on the table. “Sit down and tell me what’s gotten you so excited. You’ve been hopping up and down since you got here this morning.”
Rebecca dropped into a chair and pulled the tea toward her. “I can’t believe it myself. It’s a dream come true for me! Ellin, Kanemoto’s coming back here in February.”
“That’s wonderful! Two trips in one winter! He must be some kind of nut, but so long as he’s rich, who cares!”
“No, Ellin, he’s not coming back for another trip. He wants to be my handler for the Yukon Quest! We talked about the race a lot this past week. He’s always wanted to be here for the running of it. He said how much fun it would be if he personally knew a team and driver. Then we began to discuss the possibility of my running the race!”
Ellin’s eyes widened with surprise. She blinked rapidly and sat up straighter. “My dear, you never said anything about running the Quest this season.”
“I hadn’t planned to. It’s way too expensive. But Kanemoto has paid my entry fee, and Ellin, you know he usually gives me a tip at the end of each trip, a couple hundred dollars or so. But yesterday? Yesterday he writes me a check for five thousand dollars. Five thousand dollars! He hands it to me and says, ‘You get ready to run that race, Miss Reed. I’ll be back to handle for you one week from race start!’ Can you believe it!” Rebecca leaned forward, eyes sparkling. “I have my first official sponsor!” Then, after a brief pause, she said, “What’s wrong, Ellin? I thought for sure you’d be excited for me.”
“Well!” Ellin said, composing herself quickly. “I am, my dear, I’m just surprised, that’s all. That’s something, all right!” Ellin took a sip of tea. “The Yukon Quest is a very tough race, Rebecca,” she cautioned.
“I’ve already talked to Donny about taking care of the kennel for the two weeks I’ll be gone. Oh, Ellin, I can’t believe it!” Rebecca jumped out of her chair and paced to the woodstove and back. “I’ll need to get my toboggan sled fixed—one of the rear stanchions is cracked and the bed plastic really needs to be replaced— and I’ll have to buy some new harnesses. I think I have enough booties, but I’ll have to check. Bruce has all the right gear—” She stopped suddenly and raised a hand to the towel wrapping her head. “Bruce had all the right gear,” she corrected slowly. “And I’m sure it’s all still there, stashed out in the barn. His lightweight aluminum cooker, the training notebooks, those are important. I’ll have to find them. Meat. I’ll have to order some good ground meat in Whitehorse and feed the dogs really well. Then there are the food drops to organize. Oh Lord, the food drops! Ellin, you can’t imagine the sleepless nights spent calculating how much dog food, people food and extra supplies needs to be shipped to each checkpoint before the race starts. Fortunately, all that information should be in Bruce’s notebooks. He kept notes on everything. He…” She turned and looked at Ellin. “I wish I could tell him about this. He’d be so excited at the idea of his dogs running the Quest again.”
“I’m sure he would,” Ellin said quietly.
Rebecca returned
