Running Wild(Wild #3)(107)

Reed smiles as he ducks his head, his attention back on the new addition to the kennel.

I leave Mabel there and walk to the side door that the two of them always use. It creaks as I step into a galley kitchen with terra-cotta tiles and rustic wooden walls covered in cast-iron pans of various sizes. Beyond is a long, narrow table against the bank of windows overlooking the property, and a corner closed off by gates, where I assume Nala and her puppies sleep at night. I smile at the collection of large dog beds that litter the floor, creating an obstacle course. The dogs may have their homes outside, but it’s clear they have one in here, too.

I’m about to announce myself when Tyler’s deep voice calls out from another room in the house.

“Hey, come here for a sec?”

My stomach tenses at the sound of his beckon. I take a calming breath while I shed my snow-covered boots and then weave through the kitchen and around to the living room. Hardwood scratched up by countless paws groans beneath my socked feet.

“Marie should be here soon. I haven’t told her about—”

Tyler freezes midsentence when he looks up to find me standing at the threshold, my mouth gaping as he slides on a pair of briefs. The towel he dropped is heaped on the floor, the couch covered with spilled laundry that he’s obviously washed but not folded.

Surprise is painted across his face. “I thought you were Reed.”

“Clearly.” My face burns, but my gaze can’t stay off his body, still as perfectly sculpted as the last time I saw it in its entirety. “He sent me in here.”

“Really?” Tyler frowns. “He knew I was in the shower.” Understanding fills his face at the same time as it dawns on me.

That little smile. Reed pulled a Cory. I’m not sure whether to laugh or scream.

By Tyler’s smirk and head shake, he’s thinking along the same line.

I try to ignore the way my blood races and my body flushes, memories I’ve been struggling to suppress dragged to the surface. “What haven’t you—actually, you know what? I’ll meet you in the barn once you’re dressed.” I rush for my boots and push out the door, welcoming the frigid cold across my cheeks.

Reed and Mabel are standing by the trophy case, watching the puppy investigate its new home. I stab the air with my index finger, pointing at Reed. “Not funny.” My cheeks burn anew.

I get an unabashed grin in return.

Five minutes later, as Mabel and I are stealing heat from the bonfire, Tyler makes his way down, dressed and donning his mushing jacket and a black beanie. But the fresh image of everything beneath still blazes in my mind. “Where is he?”

I nod toward the barn.

Tyler passes me. Through the open door, I hear his chuckle and, “I don’t care if it’s your birthday. You’re gonna pay for that one later, man. Swear to God.”

“Bring it on,” Reed chirps back, hinting at a playfulness between the two of them that he hides from the rest of us.

Despite everything, I smile.

“What happened?” Mabel whispers, but I only shake my head, still listening.

Waiting.

“Why is that dog here? And why does it have a bow?”





*



I check Tyler’s expression to see if he’s joking. “You want to race her.”

“Yeah.”

“In the Iditarod.”

“Yes.” He crouches in front of Nymeria, his hand weaving through her thick coat as he strokes her neck. She sits on her haunches, accepting the affection with an occasional contented whine. “Reed’s been working with her all summer, but she already knew all the commands. And she kept up with the dryland training. She loved it.”

I can’t help but look at this dog and still see the frail and wounded one dangling from Harry’s arms. “You think she can handle a hundred miles a day?”

“Not yet, but none of them can, yet. Not even Tank. They’re all out of shape. But she’s keeping up. And she and Tank seem to be a good match—”

“Match. Wait, you want to run her as a lead dog?” A position that is typically earned after years of running.

Tyler chuckles at the gobsmacked look on my face. “I know. But I’m telling you she’s done this before. Zed said she’d been a team dog for a few years before he started breeding her. She knows what she’s doing. And I have a good feeling about her, Marie.”

“What about Nala?”

“Nala doesn’t want to run. We pull out the harness, and the enthusiasm isn’t there. She’d rather stay close to her puppies.” He shrugs. “I can’t force her.”

“So then you need Nymeria for the Iditarod.” Unless he leases a dog from someone like Harry.

He leans back against the barn wall, resting his arms on his bent knees. “I can run with one lead dog if I have to. Tank is strong-willed enough for two. But if she wants to do this, then why wouldn’t we give her a chance? After what she’s been through, she deserves another shot at being happy.” He reaches for her, and she tilts against his leg, lifting her chin to give him her jowls for attention.

“There’re other ways for her to be happy. Smaller races. It doesn’t have to be the Iditarod.”

“But what if she wants it?”

“Maybe it’s not worth the struggle.”