Winter Dreams

by Simmons, Trana Mae

  "It's going to be all right," she said. "And if you yell at me for interfering, I'll — " She frowned, then continued, " — I'll lord it over you from now on until we have a month of Sundays about how I beat you in that race!"

  He forced a half-hearted chuckle. "Heaven forbid. Besides, I knew you wouldn't pay any attention to me telling you to stay out of it. I've been expecting you for the last half hour. What took you so long?"

  "Oh, you!" Laura swatted him on the arm. "I had to talk to Buck first. I think you'll be interested in what he has to say."

  "Well, I was damned interested in it," Judge Nordic said. Then, "Excuse me, Miss Goodman. That just slipped out."

  "I was damned interested, too, Judge," Laura said with a smile.

  "Don't curse, Laura," Sandy growled in a low voice.

  "Yes, boss," she responded.

  Buck was the only one who didn't laugh at their by-play. He was obviously about to fall off his chair with terror. He kept gnawing on a thumbnail and glancing through the open door, where you could see the bars on the front window of the jailhouse. Sandy could imagine how the little man felt. Even though he'd been sure he wouldn't be locked up for very long, the sound of that door clanging shut behind him and the key turning in the lock sent a shiver of icy fear through him. He had no idea how men stood being locked up year after year.

  Laura kept her hand on his arm, and her touch burned through him. He should shake her off, but the effort was totally beyond him. He wouldn't have that many more chances to experience her touch, he justified his lack of resistance. It wouldn't hurt to add this one more to his memory cache.

  Even the thrill of Laura's touch paled, however, as Judge Nordic led Buck through his confession. Sandy knew George Dyer was ruthless, and to a point, he thought the man's attempt to get him into trouble rather amateurish, compared to what he'd done before. His father-in-law was obviously feeling his lack of influence in a strange place. Otherwise he probably would have tried to pin something more serious than sabotaging a dogsled race on Sandy. Even that could have been worse, he guessed, if Buck had followed through and left the false evidence. Or hadn't broken down and confessed.

  Sandy could see the judge and Laura both thought Dyer would be defeated easily now that they had the goods on him. At this point Sandy didn't want to disillusion them, since it meant his being freed from jail. He'd take his own precautions afterwards to ensure Dyer didn't get him in a corner again.

  "I've already signed another warrant and sent two policemen over to the hotel to pick up George Dyer," Judge Nordic said after Buck finished his story. "I won't be able to hold him without bail, but I can make myself unavailable to set bail until Monday. And I'll let it be known among the other judges that I won't take it kindly if one of them steps in and does that against my wishes.

  "For now, given what I've found out about the character of the man who requested it, I've decided to rescind my decision to look into the matter of whether that Alaskan court order might somehow be valid down here. I don't regard it the duty of my Court to take time out of my busy schedule to consider a charge from a criminal against a lower court judge."

  At that moment, they heard a ruckus in the outside hallway, and Sandy recognized George Dyer's voice. "You'll be sorry for this!" Dyer shouted. "I'll sue your entire police department!"

  "Well, now," another voice snarled, which Sandy recognized as the desk sergeant's. "Like Judge Nordic says sometimes, messing with a man's dogs oughtta be a hangin' offense, just like messin' with a man's horse was back in the Old West. I'd sure hate for our understaffed police department not to be able to stand against a lynch mob of mushers storming our jail to try to hang a man who messed with a team of someone's dogs!"

  "Why you stupid moron," Dyer snarled. "Nothing happened to those dogs."

  "Could've." Sandy heard a shrug in the desk sergeant's voice. "And messin' with a racing team is just as bad as messin' with a team a man's using to help him make a livin'. We don't take kindly to anyone doing that here, outsider or someone who lives here."

  "You've got no proof! I demand you call an attorney for me, so I can have him get hold of the judge who signed that earlier arrest warrant for my son-in-law!"

  As Dyer spoke, Judge Nordic motioned with his head for them to join him in rising from the table and walking over to the doorway. Pete had to literally hold Buck on his feet, since the wiry man was shaking so hard at the sound of Dyer's voice his legs trembled. His face had gone utterly pale.

  They stood in the doorway, looking at George Dyer's back as he continued to yell at the desk sergeant. Sandy smiled grimly when he saw George's hands handcuffed behind his back.

  "Did you hear me?" Dyer yelled. "That's one of those new-fangled telephones there on your desk, isn't it? Get on that damned thing and call an attorney for me!"

  "Well, now," the desk sergeant mused, rubbing at his chin. "I can't think of even one attorney here in town who might not mind me waking him up in the middle of the night. Guess you'll just have to wait until Monday."

  "I'm not spending all day tomorrow and tomorrow night in a jail cell like some common criminal!" Dyer fumed. "Who the hell do you think I am?"

  "A common criminal?" the desk sergeant said with a raised eyebrow.

  "You son of a bitch!" Dyer jerked on his hands and surged toward the desk.

  Two patrolmen who stood by watching the show between Dyer and their sergeant, covering up their grins, moved in synchronized motion. A fist from each landed in Dyer's stomach at the same time, and he doubled forward with a muffled "oomph." His head hit the sergeant's desk with a loud crack, and he crumbled to the floor.

  "Hmmmmm," Judge Nordic mused. Raising his voice, he said, "Sergeant, I do believe you should add assault on a police officer to the list of charges against that man. If you'll get your two patrolmen to haul him off to a cell, I'd like to talk to you about another matter."

  "Yes, Your Honor," the desk sergeant said.

  "And please put the names of your two patrolmen in for a commendation at the next Commissioner's meeting," Judge Nordic said. "Our streets are much safer with the two of them being so ready to protect someone from the common criminal element, as they just did for you."

  "Will do, Your Honor."

  Both the patrolmen gave the judge a grateful look, then each grabbed one of Dyer's feet. They dragged him down the hallway, toward the jail cells.

  "We'll call a doctor for him," the desk sergeant said. "But he's gonna have to pay the bill for it himself, not the city."

  The judge chuckled his agreement, then turned to Buck. "I want you to understand something, Mr. Svenson. What you did is reprehensible." When Buck frowned in confusion, he explained, "It was wicked of you, and unlawful, of course, to interfere with the race. Even though you were afraid Dyer would poison your dogs, or injure or kill them some other way, you should have gone to the authorities instead of letting him blackmail you into doing what you did — sabotaging Miss Goodman's team."

  Buck bowed his head and nodded. "I know that now, Mister Judge. All I ask is that you don't put me in the same cell as him." He flicked his eyes down the hallway. "I'll do my time, but I can't ask Miss Laura to look after my dogs forever. And I probably wouldn't get out of jail without bein' crippled up, if he gets a'hold of me."

  "It will be up to Miss Laura herself as to how long your time will be," the judge said, and Buck's head sprang up. "It was her harness you destroyed, and her you almost cost the race. She's the one who will be pressing charges against you."

  Laura tilted her head and studied Buck. "This might take some careful deliberation, Judge Nordic."

  "Take all the time you need, Miss Goodman."

  Buck lifted his chin and stood at what he probably considered attention. He gazed past Laura to where the bars covered the windows, and his eyes dropped to the floor.

  "Well, I did promise Buck that I'd look after his dogs," Laura said. "The problem is, Buck's one of my employees and he helps at the kennel. With one less em
ployee and ten more dogs, I might have to worry about Pete quitting on me because he was overworked."

  Pete nodded his head. "Yeah, you don't pay me enough for all the hard work I do around there now." With his head turned away from Buck, he slipped Laura a wink.

  Laura laid a hand on her cheek and frowned as though in indecision. "Dear, dear," she said with a shake of her head. "You see my problem, don't you, Judge?"

  "Can't say as I do, Miss Goodman," he said seriously. "Maybe you should explain it."

  "Well, it's like this. No matter what Buck is like in the evenings when he's not working, he does pull his weight at the kennels every day. Ever since that time he got drunk on the job, that is."

  "I ain't never gonna let nothin' like that happen again, Miss Laura," Buck insisted. "I ain't never let you down since then, has I?"

  "No, not at the kennel," Laura told him. "But destroying my harness is another matter. Let me see. How much did George Dyer pay you for that?"

  "Fifty dollars," Buck admitted, hanging his head. "But I just got half of it, enough to pay my money so I could get in the race, too. He was gonna give me the rest afterwards."

  "My harness cost fifty dollars, also. I'm donating my race winnings to the charity hospital. I think if I deduct two dollars a week out of your wages until I have the twenty-five dollars you were paid, and give that to hospital, also, that would satisfy me. And you can either repair that harness piece by piece on your own time, or allow me to keep making that same deduction until it's paid for."

  "I'll do it, Miss Laura. I will. Fix the harness, I mean." Buck nodded emphatically. "And you can keep the money out of my wages for the other. I learnt my lesson, and I won't never do nothin' like this again. If someone tries to make me, I'll come tell you 'bout it."

  Laura glanced at Judge Nordic, and he patted Buck on the shoulder. "See that you remember that, Buck." Looking over at the desk sergeant, the judge said, "Make a note of this for the records, Sergeant. I doubt we'll have any trouble over Mr. Svenson not fulfilling his promises, but we'll want it down on paper just in case. He'll be on probation until Miss Goodman notifies us he's compensated her properly. And if you have a form there, I'll sign it dismissing the charges against Mr. Montdulac. I'm freeing him, also."

  "Yes, sir."

  Within five minutes, they left the police station. Judge Nordic offered Laura a ride back to the Dubuques, where she was spending the night. After a moment's discussion, they decided to let the other men use the Dubuques' carriage to return to the hotel and bring it back in the morning before picking up their dogs in the park, where they had been chained after the race.

  Sandy desperately wanted a few minutes alone with Laura, but he resisted the urge just as strongly. For one thing, there wasn't an opportunity, and the night was so cold, standing outside and holding a conversation would be foolish. "Thank you" seemed inappropriately weak for what she had done, and "I love you" wasn't an option.

  After goodnights were exchanged, he climbed into the Dubuques' carriage. Pete drove, and the two carriages went in opposite directions. Sandy did lean out for one last sight of the other carriage, finding Laura doing the same. She lifted a hand in a silent, private good night to him.

  ***

  Chapter 22

  Laura decided she must have gotten all of two hours sleep the rest of the night, that near dawn and only because her exhausted body overrode her jumbled mind. Suddenly her eyes flew open and checked the clock on her bedside table.

  "Five thirty," she mumbled.

  By the time she packed, got a cup of coffee and some food for the trail, it would be daylight. She stumbled out of bed, hoping the Dubuques' cook would be on duty already, despite the late hour the celebration had strung into. There had been stragglers leaving when Judge Nordic dropped her off last night, and then she'd had to tell the Dubuques the latest developments. She'd also warned them she would probably be on her way home by the time they crawled out of bed themselves this morning. Good friends, she knew the Dubuques wouldn't be upset over her leaving so early. She'd be back to visit them many times again.

  When she got to the kitchen a while later, she smelled coffee and found the cook baking.

  "Miss Goodman," Cook greeted. "Your food for the trail is in the pack over there. The beefsteaks you wanted are still froze, but wrapped separate so they'll cook fine over the fire. And if you'll tell me what you'd like for breakfast, I'll fix you right up."

  "I'll just have a couple of those sweet rolls cooling over there," Laura said. "Do you think Shaun's up, so he can take me over to the park to get my dogs? I'll eat the rolls on the way."

  Cook walked over to a boxy telephone on the wall and stared at it reluctantly for a moment. Then she straightened her shoulders, picked up the ear piece and gave the crank a resounding turn.

  "Hello!" she yelled after a second. "Stella, ring the Dubuques' stable for me, will you?" While she waited, she said, "Stupid thing, having a dadblamed tellyphone in a stables." Then, "Shaun, Miss Goodman is ready to go to the park!" A brief hesitation, then, "Well, same to you!"

  She slammed the ear piece down into the hook and glared at the instrument. "Huh. Tells me he could hear me just as well if I stepped out on the back porch and hollered! New fangled contraptions, anyway." She turned to Laura. "He's up, Miss Goodman. And he'll get a carriage ready."

  She hurried back over to her bread dough, muttering something about how the Dubuques would probably be getting rid of their horses and filling the stalls full of those noisy horseless carriages next thing anyone knew.

  Laura couldn't resist saying, "You're probably right about that, Cook. In fact, Mrs. Dubuque was talking about that last evening."

  Cook's eyes grew round, then she shook her head. "The day they try to send me home in one of them things, that's the day I quit!"

  Giggling under her breath, Laura picked up two of the sweet rolls cooling on the counter, then the food pack. She backtracked to the hallway outside the kitchen and retrieved her satchel of clothing and coat, then went out a side door and headed for the stable. Shaun had the carriage ready by the time she got to the stable, and she climbed in.

  It only took them five minutes to get to the park, and Laura scowled when Shaun pulled the carriage to a halt beside where she indicated her dogs were chained. Her dogs were there, but Pete's and Buck's were gone. Fresh paw prints and sled tracks led away, so they couldn't have left too long ago. Beyond her dogs she saw Keever, chained amid the rest of Sandy's dogs. At least Sandy was still here, so she'd have someone to travel home with.

  "Did they bring the carriage back this morning, Shaun?" she asked.

  "Early," he said. "That's why I was already up when Cook called and 'most broke my eardrum yelling over that tellyphone. Keep tryin' to tell her she don't have to yell for me to hear her."

  "She'll get used to it eventually. But was Sandy Montdulac with Pete and Buck when they brought the carriage back?"

  "No'm, he weren't. Only them two."

  "Hmmmm. Would you mind going by the Superior Hotel to see if Sandy needs a ride? I'll start getting both teams harnessed."

  "Yes'm."

  Blancheur greeted her enthusiastically, bounding from the snow and shaking the layer of matching white from his back. She gave him a good rub behind his ears before she dug through the packs left on her sled and started feeding him and the team. After her dogs were fed, she went over to Keever and had Sandy's dogs eating by the time Shaun returned, with Sandy on the seat beside him.

  "He was already walking over here, Miss Goodman," Shaun said as he pulled the carriage to a stop and Sandy climbed down. "You need anything else, Mr. Montdulac?"

  "No. Thanks for the ride, Shaun."

  "See you next time." He saluted with the whip and clicked to the horse.

  "Good morning," she told Sandy. "I can't believe Buck and Pete just went on and left us behind, especially when Buck didn't have a harness for his dogs."

  "Good morning, Laura. I doubt Buck's driving his team. I
heard him and Pete discussing it last night, and they decided they'd go back together, leading Buck's dogs."

  "Oh. But that still doesn't explain why they went on ahead and didn't wait for us."

  "That I don't know about. All I do know is that when I got up, the desk clerk had a message for me that said they'd left for Grand Marais. I started walking over here to the park and Shaun picked me up."

  "Hmmmm. Well, you can harness your own dogs now. I'm ready to get on the trail, if you are. We'll still have to stay overnight somewhere, but we can get home by noon tomorrow if we get going."

  He nodded and reached for the harness lying in his sled. Laura went back to her own dogs, and within ten minutes they were both ready to leave. Sandy motioned for her to go ahead and take the lead, and she mushed her team out of the park. With no snow since the race ended yesterday, they had a well-packed trail to travel, and her dogs eagerly picked up speed. Judge Nordic had explained that, on the chance George Dyer demanded a trial, she and Buck would need to return and testify. But the judge expected Dyer to pay the hefty fine he would levy and leave town. She possibly wouldn't return to Duluth again until on her way to Alaska.

  As they traveled up the trail, Laura's thoughts wandered. She'd been disappointed to realize Sandy couldn't accompany her to Alaska and participate in the race. But she accepted the reality of it and knew Pete was a good second choice. What she would truly miss during that time was seeing Sandy — being with him at least part of every day.

  And ever since Pete had teasingly dropped the hints he insisted he wasn't saying at the hotel last night, she hadn't been able to get the possibility of Sandy loving her in return out of her mind. She even let the thought of Pete and Buck deliberately leaving her and Sandy behind cross her mind. Perhaps Pete wanted her and Sandy to have this chance to be alone.