Sleigh Ride to Love

by Rosemary J. Anderson

  Suddenly, she was hauled into strong arms and held gently against Zachariah’s thick coat-covered chest, and his gentleness became a catalyst and she sobbed like a child. Aware of nothing but her desolation, Zachariah’s arms and the steady pounding of his heart under her cheek, Holly felt like this was all there was, and nothing else existed. She was safe in a place where nothing could hurt her, where petty annoyances were forgotten, and where all hurts were rendered innocuous, she was in fact home. Finally completely out of breath and unable to see for the ocean of tears inside her goggles, she drew away, her breath shuddering in her throat. Zachariah reached out and carefully removed her goggles and, smiling gently into her woebegone face, he tenderly wiped the tears from her cheeks.

  “It’s just shock, Holly. The strain and fear of travelling through a difficult patch, but the worst is over, at least for now. So, how about we have a rest, put on some coffee, and have something to eat?

  Holly nodded, not really sure if food and rest would cut it.

  Sitting desolately on the slats she watched Zachariah feed his dogs, then, shaking herself out of her inertia, she began to get together the makings for her own dogs’ meals. They were her responsibility after all. Walking along the line of her sixteen Siberian Huskies, she pulled ears, stroked heads and patted thick woolly coats, and as protection of her dogs’ feet were paramount, changed thirty-two pairs of bootees. The team’s needs seen to, Holly turned her attention to what Zachariah was doing. The stove was burning and a pan full of snow was melting, ready for rehydrating the packets of stew he had placed on the ground. Holly’s stomach rumbled as gnawing hunger pains tore at her insides.

  Gathering together bowls and spoons, Holly sat on a stool opposite Zachariah and waited in salivating anticipation for the stew to be cooked.

  * * * *

  Passing Holly a filled bowl of steaming beef stew, Zachariah watched as she tucked in before starting his own meal. The dogs had settled down, curling up still in line on the snow, their bright blue eyes closed in contented slumber.

  “Feeling better?” Zachariah asked as she dropped her spoon back in the empty bowl.

  “Much.” She nodded, smiling slightly.

  Staring at her, his look searching, he frowned. “You know, Holly, the Iditarod is hard on even the most seasoned of us, so there’s no shame in a rookie giving up, especially if they’re nursing an injury.”

  “I might have guessed!” She threw her bowl onto the ground, hearing the clatter of the spoon as it banged against the side. “You are a vile deceiver, Zachariah. You lulled me into a false sense of security, got me thinking that you had begun to care about me and that you were prepared to help me continue with the race, but I was wrong. All along you were plotting and planning waiting for the moment when I let my guard down, when I was compliant enough to accept your oh so solicitous suggestions and go back home. Of all the…” She sputtered on her words, her anger growing with every second. “Bastards!”

  Grabbing hold of her arms, Zachariah gave her a little shake. “For crying out loud! Stop it, Holly! It was a suggestion nothing more. Look, if you really feel able to continue then fine, I’ll help you all I can.”

  Staring at him, and wanting so badly to tell him she didn’t need his bloody help, she for once listened to her head and not her heart. Anger fizzing throughout her body, she finally nodded. “Fine! But just tell me one thing, Zachariah? Was sleeping with me part of the plan?”

  “Plan?”

  “Stop being so obtuse—the plan to get me to go home.”

  “Now who’s being stupid? There is no plan, Holly, except in your silly little mind. Now if you’ve finished, I suggest you get packed up as I’ll be leaving in five.”

  Staring after him, her heart heavy in her chest, Holly suppressed the urge to sob like a child, and swallowing hard, called a tear-filled, “line out” to her dogs.

  The dogs immediately pulled forward, allowing her to rehook them together.

  Stepping up on the runners and with her eyes on the back of Zachariah as he pulled out ahead of her, she fervently wished she could take back her angry words.

  Chapter Twelve

  Zachariah was pushing himself, his team, and Holly to the utmost and it was taking its toll. Hours of the grueling pace he had set held Holly in the grip of utmost tiredness, so much so that she was beginning to feel slightly light headed. The trail was at times difficult to navigate but she held onto her nerve, not wanting to give him any excuse to get her airlifted out. Determined to show him, she held her tongue and ploughed on, following where he led without complaining. Her shoulder still hurt, but exhaustion was her biggest enemy, and more than once she had to shake herself awake. The stops were short, just enough time to see to the dogs and have a quick snack, however the silence between Zachariah and herself was the worst, with neither of them wanting to give an inch. Zachariah carried on as if nothing had happened, seeming relatively unmoved by her silence, but she felt the tension between them most profoundly.

  They were nearing Nikolai now. Turning off from Salmon River they headed toward the fish camp and she breathed a sigh of relief as the buildings came into view. These were the first edifices they’d seen for some time and it made her feel as if she as re-entering the land of the living. Urging her dogs onward they raced past the camp, thankful of the markers the villagers maintained. The going was flat, running through woods and marshes and they began picking up speed, the goal of Nikolai in their sight.

  * * * *

  Entering Nikolai, Holly could have cheered with sheer joy. They’d made it through some of the worst terrain of the race and they were still alive! After checking in, Holly, along with Zachariah, took time to bed their dogs down in the area around the school. Giving them a good feed and some water, Holly examined their paws and spent time making a fuss of them, especially her favorites, Panther and Pilot.

  Walking with Zachariah toward the school gym, she readily agreed that after a quick meal they would get a couple of hours’ rest before continuing the race.

  A brisk wash in cold water, as no hot water was available much to Holly’s disappointment, it was onto a satisfying snack of cheeseburgers before they, metaphorically speaking, hit the hay.

  In the village public works building, Holly placed her sleeping bag beside that of Zachariah’s and, removing her coat and boots, tiredly climbed in. A few hours rest, bliss!

  Turning onto her side Holly’s gaze caught that of Zachariah’s and smiling gently he held out a hand. Slowly she extended hers and her heart jumped as his fingers folded around it, encasing her small, delicate hand in the strong warmth of his.

  Holly’s eyes grew heavy and closed, the lashes fluttering like a butterfly’s wings against her cheeks, and at that moment she felt safe, soothed, and secure. The rough feel of Zachariah’s hand enclosing hers comforted her, reassuring her that all was well, and finally she succumbed to sleep. Her last thoughts as exhaustion claimed her were of her dogs, Zachariah, and in a few hours, the trail to McGrath.

  * * * *

  Four hours later, a breakfast of hot, sweet porridge and strong coffee behind them, they were on the trail to McGrath. Before leaving Nikolai they had dressed with the usual care for bad weather and had even broken out coats for the dogs. The temperature could drop dramatically on this part of the trail. Zachariah was out in front and it was with some relief that Holly left it to him to lead the way. Gliding over the snow-packed ice she pushed her dogs to the limit. The trail for the moment was relatively straightforward and was an easy track to follow, consisting of some wooded areas, but mostly it was straight, long, and very boring. A wide vista of white as far as the eye could see.

  Soon they would be passing through swamps and lakes and she wondered nervously if in fact she was really up to it. A keen eye was needed to ensure they didn’t get off track, one mistake could mean a further loss of time.

  Three hours on and Zachariah indicated it was time to stop. Holly was more than happy to comply, although to
her regret it was to be only a short rest mainly for the dogs’ sake. Drawing to a halt, the first priority was to check on their teams’ welfare, paws needed to be examined and in some cases bootees changed. Holly shook her head, glad she’d brought 1,280 pairs, enough for at least forty changes should the need arise.

  Leaving the dogs to have a few minutes hard-earned rest, Zachariah and Holly snacked on trail mix washed down with water. Conversation was at the minimum, and Holly, still loving him even though he annoyed the hell out of her, wondered whether their camaraderie of the previous evening had drifted away like the low-hanging clouds of earlier.

  * * * *

  It was growing dark and a wind was getting up, bringing wet, unpleasant sleet. They had been back on the trail for some time, passing the Big River House hours ago, and although it had been one of the original stopovers on the Iditarod, they hadn’t even paused. Continuing on through a shortcut of woods and waterways, the track then meandered back to the river where some considerable time was spent following that trail before continuing on to rise up from the valley. The ridge was a straight-up climb of a hundred feet of woodland, and fear wrapped around Holly like a black hooded cloak. It was a rough ride, for Holly anyway, her nerves nearly getting the better of her on a number of occasions. Thankfully, her dogs had been trained by an expert, her father, and had on many occasions completed this trail, and so knew it well. And whilst Holly could only stare fixedly ahead praying with every yard traversed, the dogs ran on regardless, following Zachariah with sure-footed confidence.

  The miles flew by and Holly finally could see the red light on the radio tower, it glowed out of the darkness, reassuring her that she only had five miles left before McGrath and the compulsory twenty-four-hour stopover. Her thoughts darted ahead to the checkpoint. Mmm, hot water, food and bed, nothing could be better, and twenty-four long, lovely hours in Zachariah’s company where anything could happen. She smiled secretly to herself.

  Eventually the river began to bend to the northwest and there it was on the left bank—McGrath, and for her at that moment, the last word in luxury. Luxury akin to the cherry on top of a swirly ice cream, or the fluffy covered hot water bottle in a cold bed, or even the sublime relief of removing ones bra after a hard day’s work—bliss!

  Climbing a twenty-foot-high bank, they finally reached the checkpoint and informed the checkers that this was where they were taking their compulsory layover. Every Musher had to take a twenty-four-hour layover and there were a number of places in which to do so, but Zachariah, having tried other checkpoints, gave McGarth the thumbs-up for being in his opinion the best place to relax. The town had a population of around five hundred, however, members of the media were parked out relaying the news from the race and vying to get interviews with some of the mushers, making it a busy nucleus set in miles of white wilderness. Entering the municipal building, Holly’s footsteps lightened, she could think of nothing but a hot shower followed by a thick steak and fries before crashing into her sleeping bag for a good long sleep.

  * * * *

  The coin-operated hot shower had been sublime and so had the clean clothes she’d donned afterward and for the first time in what felt like ages Holly felt really clean. Thirty minutes later she was slicing into a thick steak, the rest of her plate was piled high with fries, onion rings and salad and she had a tall glass of iced tea just waiting to be sipped. Zachariah had followed her example with regard to the food but was drinking a light beer instead of the aforementioned tea. However, conversation was sporadic as they were too involved with the priority of eating to worry about conventional niceties. Mushers came and went, some they knew, some they didn’t, and greetings were called amongst much laughter and tall stories. However, each musher was intent on only two things, getting a good hot meal and finding a space to crash for the night.

  The meal finished and feeling the full weight of calories settling on her hips, Holly went to the sleeping room, accompanied by Zachariah, and found a relatively quiet spot for their bags. Eagerly removing her coat and boots Holly climbed in and cuddled down, it was bliss, pure unadulterated bliss. God she was tired. So tired every limb ached, her eyes were gritty and her shoulder throbbed like the proverbial cartoon thumb that had been hit by a hammer. Turning to face Zachariah she was thankful for the hand he once again extended toward her. Grasping it she smiled in gratitude as his fingers folded around hers like a velvet glove.

  * * * *

  Morning came and Holly stretched luxuriously. Opening her eyes she expected to see Zachariah but there was no sign of him. Scrambling quickly out of her bag, she was shocked to see that she had slept for ten hours. Elated that she still had hours of relaxation left, she decided to first check on her dogs, then think about breakfast. Her stomach growled in happy anticipation. Trudging over to the area where her dogs were bedded, she took a roundabout route to avoid the media, the thought of being held up as the rookie who’d lost the race for a fellow musher due to injury held no appeal for her.

  Zachariah was in the process of changing his sleigh for the one he’d had shipped out as a precaution before the start of the race. A wise provision on this occasion, because unfortunately, on the last leg before McGrath, one of the runners had suffered irredeemable damage when it had jolted over a hidden rock.

  It had happened so suddenly. Zachariah had been speeding along making good time. For once the snow had stopped falling and she was beginning to relax and enjoy the journey. Suddenly there had been a shout and to her dismay she had watched helplessly as Zachariah’s sleigh had toppled over onto its side. It had to her horrified gaze appeared to happen in slow motion. One minute everything was normal, the next his sled seemed to collapse, teetering on one runner before slowly and inexplicably crashing to the ground, sending Zachariah spinning from the runners. It was then she knew that should she ever lose him, she would never, ever love again. Quickly drawing to a halt she’d scrambled from her sled and raced as fast as the deep snow would allow over to his fallen team.

  Thankfully Zachariah was already gaining his feet and was apparently unhurt, but his face was set and white as he first checked his dogs before turning his attention to the damaged sled.

  Coming back to the present, she lightly touched his shoulder.

  “Hi.”

  Zachariah looked up, smiling at her greeting.

  “How’d you sleep?”

  “Like a log, you?” She bit her lip. God this conversation is stilted.

  “Absolutely! I’ve brought the supplies you had shipped over and stacked ’em by your sled.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate it.” Holly nodded and strolled over to check out the provisions.

  An hour later, the sleigh checked out and restocked, and the dogs fed meant she was free for the next few hours.

  “What are your plans now, Holly?”

  Plans? Holly was dumbfounded, she hadn’t made any plans, she’d just thought she’d be spending time with him, but now it sounded like he expected her to do something else. Something on her own!

  She thought quickly. “Well, I was going to check out the shops first and then…” She shrugged burying her hands deep in her pockets.

  “Want some company?”

  Holly’s heart filled with joy. Zachariah wanted to spend time with her and not because he had no choice, not because she was injured, but because he wanted to.

  “Sure, if you want.” She shrugged again, trying to appear nonchalant.

  Smiling wryly, Zachariah nodded. “Well, it beats being on my own, it’s not like this is a bustling metropolis teaming with people.”

  Staring at him in a quickly hidden disappointment, she bit her lip.

  “Where to first?”

  “Breakfast?” Zachariah lifted an enquiring eyebrow.

  A breakfast of good, old-fashioned English bacon, eggs, sausage, and beans, followed by toast and orange marmalade, finished, they turned their attention to the few stores McGrath had to offer. The shops consisted of a couple of well-stocke
d general stores which sold everything from corned beef to sticky tape, and there, Holly was pleased to find toothpaste, soap, and her favorite chocolate-coated caramels. After the unexpected shopping exhibition and with nothing much else to do, they stopped for coffee and spent time with the other mushers, laughing, joking, and swapping tips.

  The hours passed swiftly and soon it was time to have something else to eat and another quick nap before getting underway.

  Sitting down to the proverbial last meal and engaging in light banter with Zachariah came as a relief to Holly, thankfully they were back on even keel. Although there would be tough times to come back on the trail, here at least she felt contented, relaxed, and full of bonhomie.

  Sensing someone standing at their table, Holly looked up with a welcoming smile, however the smile faded as she met the sugarcoated grin of Astrid Buchannan.

  “Zachariah.” She breathed throatily. “I’m glad we’ve caught up with each other at last, I’ve missed you at the other checkpoints.”

  “Astrid, been here long?”

  “Yes, I’ve taken my twenty-four-hour stop here and I’ll be leaving shortly. I can’t believe we haven’t run into each other before now.”

  Zachariah kept silent, he wouldn’t hurt her by telling her that he’d seen her earlier lapping up the media attention.

  “Well, Astrid, we’ve”—he looked at Holly—“got to finish our meal as we’ll be leaving soon, so…” He raised an enquiring eyebrow.

  “Of course, darhling, I’ll see you later.” She smiled winningly at him whilst her eyes looked daggers at Holly, who was innocently shoveling food into her mouth in order to stop from saying what she really wanted to say to the other woman.