Running Wild(Wild #3)(13)

“You sound pretty confident.”

“Because I know it’s the truth. I’d give you a tour, but I have better things to do.” A smug smile touches his lips. “And you need to run on over to report into Harry.”

“I’m not going to—” I cut off the denial. I don’t have to defend myself to this asshole.

“Yeah, sure, you’re not,” he mutters, his amusement slipping away, replaced by a hard, cold glare. “Now give me my dog back and get the hell off my property before I call the ITC and tell them you’re trespassing at my kennel and harassing me and my family.” He nods toward my boots. “See? Tank agrees.”

I look down in time to see the dog with its hind leg lifted and a stream of urine shooting out onto my pants. The scent of ammonia hits my nostrils a second later.

It’s not the first time a sled dog has peed on me—some of them can’t seem to help themselves—but that couldn’t have been planned more perfectly.

Howie, who has remained more of an observer up until now, sidles up to me, turning his back to Tyler. “We don’t have much of a case here, Marie,” he whispers. “Not unless we can prove this guy’s lying, and something tells me he’s isn’t. Meanwhile, we cut his chain and trespassed without any proof that the dog was his, besides Harry’s claims. This guy could be a real dick if he wants, and it sounds like he wants to be.”

“I know.” Getting fired from a volunteer position with the Iditarod would not only be embarrassing but it would also limit my access to animals who need me.

“I can stop by Frank’s next week and poke around a bit if you want? Make sure he’s treating her.”

“That would be helpful. Thanks, Howie.” Frank and I don’t agree on a lot of things—namely all the pro bono stuff I do that he says makes other vets look bad, and all the price gouging he does that infuriates me. He’d never give me details on Tyler’s dogs if I asked.

“Okay, so I’m gonna do us all a favor and hand the dog over to him, and consider this matter investigated and resolved.” Howie saunters over to the rumbling pickup to open the back cab. “Attagirl. Come on down.” He hauls the dog out and sets her gently on the ground.

Tyler fishes a treat from his pocket and whistles for her. She limps over, her tail wagging. She doesn’t seem afraid of him, at least.

“You have yourself a good Sunday afternoon there, Tyler!” Howie slides into the driver’s seat with a wave, as if he’s bidding farewell to a friend.

He leaves me standing in the cold with dog pee on my pants to face this guy alone. Thankfully, Tyler has all but dismissed me, dropped to his knees, a gentle hand on Nymeria’s head while he murmurs something that I can’t hear. At least he’s capable of kindness to someone.

The dog he called Tank hovers around them, sniffing the female with interest.

With one last glance around the property—is there a Mrs. Brady here? She wasn’t listed in the kennel licensing paperwork, from what I saw—I convince myself that I’ve done all I can. For now.

“I started her on amoxicillin. Tell Frank to call me if he has any questions or wants the test results.” No point running the same tests twice, even if Tyler deserves to pay for them. Though, knowing Frank, he’d bill Tyler, anyway.

I turn to head back to the truck.

“Not even an apology, huh?” Tyler calls out.

I pause, the thought of uttering those words sour on my tongue. But does Tyler deserve to hear them? “I don’t take kindly to being accused of ulterior motives,” I say instead.

“Probably as kindly as I take to being accused of animal abuse.”

“I never accused you.” Not officially. “Besides, I won’t apologize for looking out for these dogs.” That’s the only reason I’m here. Someone neglected this poor girl, even if it wasn’t him.

“Did Harry mention that he showed up here when I moved in?” Tyler’s fingers stroke behind Nymeria’s ear. “He came to tell me not to bother starting up any kind of touring or breeding business, seeing as his family has cornered that market around here.”

“He didn’t mention that, no.” Friendly meet ’n’ greet, my ass. What was Harry thinking?

Tyler smirks. “He’s lucky I have no interest in a bunch of strangers traipsing all over my property and near my dogs. But do me a favor, will you? When you stop by his place to give him the good news, you know, that he’ll still have to lose to me in March—”

I roll my eyes.

“Let him know that I wasn’t planning on breeding to sell, but you’ve helped me change my mind. Tank here would love to see some of his pups in the Iditarod one day.” He ruffled the dog’s head. “What do you think? Will mushers around here want my dogs?” The haughty smile that curls his lips tells me the question is rhetorical.

I don’t bother feeding his ego with an answer, turning on my heels to walk away.

“Can’t wait to see you on the trail!” he hollers after me.

Yeah, can’t wait.

The truck’s cab is warm when I climb in. That knot in my stomach that I arrived with has dissolved, only to be replaced with general unease.

Howie backs the truck far enough to turn. “Can’t say I’ve seen you so ruffled before. You’re normally the levelheaded one.”