Running Wild(Wild #3)(35)

Lynn shoots a glare his way before shifting back to her task. I’m sure she’s none too pleased to be schooled by a musher half her age.

I’m equally displeased. I didn’t want to deal with him yet. Why is he awake?

Harry, oblivious or not caring that his expertise is unwanted, shifts his attention to me. “Where were you last night when I rolled in? Didn’t they tell you I was coming?”

“I was catching some sleep.”

“Yeah, well, you’re my veterinarian. I expected you there for my dogs.” There’s no mistaking the displeasure in his tone.

“I’m here for all the dogs, as a volunteer, and I can’t do my job if I’m dead on my feet,” I snap, my anger flaring.

“Whoa.” Harry has the nerve to hold up a hand, to look taken aback by my reaction.

I inhale a deep breath to collect my composure. I’m hungry, and my patience is paper-thin. “What are you doing up? Couldn’t you sleep?”

“I slept okay, except Brady decided to get up and make a bunch of noise just as I was settling in.” His eyes wander past me to where Tyler’s sled and team are resting, and they narrow. “If I hadn’t gotten hung up in Ophir fixing my sled, that gold would’ve been mine.”

“That’s all part of racing, right?” It’s a complex chain of speed, timing, and intuition, all of which can be derailed by countless variables, some manageable and others impossible to predict.

“Still, you should have seen the smug look on his face when I checked in. He was waiting to accept the trophy until I could get here, just so I could see him do it.”

“He had to take care of his dogs first.” Though I can’t confirm that Tyler didn’t take his time doing it.

But Harry’s not listening. “He didn’t leave that far ahead of me. Had to be pushing those dogs hard. You should check them out, make sure they’re fit to race.”

“I did check them when they came in. They were all fine.”

“Well, you need to check again—”

“I did, just now, and they’re fine,” I say through gritted teeth. I know what he’s doing. “How about I leave the racing stuff to you, and you leave the vet stuff to me, ’kay?” I throw the words he said to me in Rohn back in his face.

He works a retort around in his smarmy mouth, but when he meets my challenging glare, he seems to think better of it.

“I’m going to grab a bite—”

“Man, that last stretch coming in here last night was rough,” he cuts in, taking a sip of his coffee. “There were a bunch of markers missing.”

At least he’s attempting a normal conversation. “It happens. Those things aren’t permanently affixed to the ground.” It’s a monumental task every year to set some twelve thousand fluorescent-orange-tipped lath markers so the mushers don’t get lost, especially if caught in a blizzard. “You told the crew so they can go out and fix them, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. And sounds like people made it through fine.” He pauses in thought. “Skip said they were down when he went through, too. Makes ya think, doesn’t it?” He glances in Tyler’s direction again. “It’s like someone kicked them over.”

There’s only one “someone” that could be.

I realize which angle Harry’s working, and my disgust swells. Not only is he arrogant enough to think he can manipulate me like this but it’s beyond poor sportsmanship. “So, first, you accuse him of pushing his dogs too hard to get here ahead of you, and now you’re saying he took time out of racing to sabotage you? A guy who went out of his way and put himself in danger to help Larry Reese in the gorge? Who stayed with him the whole way to make sure he made it in?” That story is circulating through all the checkpoints, earning Tyler prominence among both volunteers and mushers. “Harry, if you start going around accusing him of things without any proof, it’s going to look bad, and not on him. On you.”

“I didn’t say it was Brady,” Harry stumbles as he backpedals over his allegation.

“He was the first one through. Who else do you think it could be?”

“Yeah, well … How is that possible, anyway? He’s a rookie. How’s he in the lead?”

“Maybe he’s just that good, Harry.”

He sneers as if tasting something sour. “Whose side are you on here?”

I’ve run out of patience. “The dogs’ side. Always the dogs. Now go and take care of yours. I’m sure they’re as hungry as I am.” I move to leave.

“Wait, Marie—”

“And don’t lecture Lynn again, unless you want to get strangled in your sleep.” The list of potential assailants is growing by the minute. I’m ready to add my name to the page.

I march for the hut, not waiting for his response.





CHAPTER EIGHT





Laughter spills out with the warmth as I slip into the hut, shutting the door quickly behind me.

“… thought there might be a critter hidin’ up in there, but there was nothing! And he spent half an hour barking at the damn tree before he’d run again!” Gary slaps his thigh as he chortles. “I sat there on my sled, freezin’ my nuts off. I swear, he’s the sweetest boy, but he’s got bricks for brains.”