by Teri Wilson
An eerie quiet fell over the team, and she had no problem hearing Reggie when he said her name in his calm, still voice. “Clementine.”
“Yes?”
4…3…2…
“In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps.”
1.
And he was gone, nothing more than a flurry of snow whooshing past her in a blur.
Chapter Fourteen
The morning after the race began, a quietness came over the Northern Lights Inn. Ben should have grown accustomed to it by now, but it always took him by surprise. During the years he’d spent as the one on the sled runners mushing a team toward Nome, he’d come to know this time as one of intense concentration, fueled by a heavy dose of adrenaline. The hush at race headquarters stood in such stark contrast that he’d never quite come to expect it.
The lobby was a ghost town. He sat by the large stone fireplace warming his hands, with Kodiak curled at his feet. He’d been up late sorting through hundreds upon hundreds of photographs. It had been close to midnight when he’d made his final selection of which pictures to send to his editor. The quiet morning would have been the perfect time to sleep in and get caught up on his rest. But resting didn’t come easy. What little sleep he did manage to get was plagued with dreams of the trail. And in the hours he spent awake, his thoughts always came back to Clementine.
The way she’d watched him when he helped get Reggie’s dogs attached to the gang line haunted him. She hadn’t said a word, but he’d seen the thoughts behind her beautiful green eyes.
She thought he should be the one riding that sled into Nome.
She’d never pushed. Her restraint stood in stark contrast to her customary teasing way of dealing with things. Her tender silence on the matter gave her opinion all the more force. It had hit Ben like a punch straight to the gut. All she’d done was asked him if he missed it when he finally broke down and told her about the accident. And he’d told her the truth. No, he hadn’t missed it.
Until she came along.
What kind of woman could inspire a man to do the one thing that terrified him most?
A woman like Clementine, Ben admitted with a sigh.
Kodiak rested his chin on Ben’s knee and fixed his gold eyes on his master’s face, as if he knew what Ben was contemplating.
Now that Ben thought about it, the dog probably did know. Kodiak knew him better than anyone, human or canine. He had been by Ben’s side through it all. He was the living, breathing embodiment of the phrase “man’s best friend.”
Ben knew this might seem unusual, or even sad, to some people but it was enough for him. Rather, it had been until a certain God-fearing, adventure-loving tourist with an affection for bunny slippers came along.
“What do you think, boy?” Ben ran his thumb along the ridge of Kodiak’s muzzle.
The dog didn’t need to answer the question. Ben knew good and well what Kodiak wanted. He wanted to pull a sled. It was what he’d been born to do. The desire to pull had been bred into him for generations.
Just like me.
Ben was a musher, like his father and his grandfather before him. Mushing was in his blood, whether or not he wanted to admit it. It was more than a sport. It was a life-sustaining instinct, like taking his next breath.
Clementine was right. He’d given up. He was no longer living. Since the loss of his team, his faith had taken more than a hit. It was as if God had vanished, leaving him stranded. Not just out on the Bering Sea, but stranded in life. Nothing was as it was before.
The dog yard was empty, just as it had been since the day of the accident.
Kodiak had spent his first days back at home after that fateful day pacing from one red doghouse to the next, methodically poking his nose in each before swiveling his masked face back toward Ben.
“What happened?” his look seemed to say.
Comforting the distressed dog was impossible, so Ben tried locking him inside the house. That didn’t work, either. Kodiak sat on the braided rug by the front door and howled all night. After three sleepless nights listening to the husky’s mournful wails, Ben finally relented and let him back outside. He went straight to the dog yard and spent the first night moving silently between the dog boxes. From Ben’s vantage point at the cabin window, he looked like a ghost dog floating over the snowdrifts.
He finally settled on top of his doghouse. The wise old owl. He never closed his eyes. It was as if he was standing sentry over the missing.
Ben watched him fight sleep, the dog’s furry eyelids drifting closed and then popping back open, until he could no longer stand by and watch. He led Kodiak back inside and tried coaxing him onto the soft new dog bed he’d ordered off the internet. But Kodiak was a sled dog, accustomed to sleeping on a bed of straw. He sniffed at the new bed, walked away and finally slumped into a heap on the wood floor in front of the fireplace.
He slept for two straight days. Ben was so relieved that he’d cried like a baby.
And thus had begun their new life. One where up was down and down was up. One where a sled dog eventually learned to sleep on a puffy dog bed and the musher became a journalist.
His first day of work as a photographer had been a disaster. Barely healed from the frostbite, his hands were so swollen and numb he could scarcely hold the camera, much less reliably press the shutter button. When the office sent him out to take photos of the ribbon-cutting ceremony at the new courthouse, he came back with nothing more than a series of blurred images. The Yukon Reporter ran one of them anyway. It was only then that Ben realized he’d been given the job out of pity. Aurora’s way of taking care of its own. He’d nearly quit. In the end, he’d decided staying at the Reporter was better than sitting in his cabin overlooking the graveyard of doghouses. So he stayed and eventually became an excellent photographer.
Ben inhaled a steadying breath. He couldn’t live with those empty doghouses anymore. He pushed thoughts of racing again out of his mind. The prospect of crossing the Bering Sea was too much to handle right now. But climbing on a sled and following his dog into the wilderness was not. In fact, it sounded like perfection. And isn’t that what training for a race really was? Taking one day at a time? Mushing a few miles here and there?
He shot off the sofa so fast that Kodiak let loose with a sharp bark. Ben’s mind was made up. And now that it was, the urge to get out there on a sled ran deep. He was finally allowing himself to feel it, down in his bones. The desire had always been there, like a persistent itch. He’d simply trained himself to ignore it. It had become more and more difficult to resist since he took Clementine mushing.
She would be busy working on her research notes for the magazine all day. All caught up on work for the time being, Ben had the morning free. Ben figured he could run by Reggie’s house, pick up a couple of dogs and be on the sled in less than an hour or two. Maybe he could even take Moose along and see if the stray had any experience with a sled. His old team had been comprised solely of rescue dogs. Giving homeless dogs new meaning had always been one of his favorite things about mushing. There was a certain poetic beauty about starting a new team the same way.
“Kodiak, come on, boy.”
The woods and the crisp winter morning were beckoning Ben. And thanks to Clementine, he was finally ready to answer the call.
* * *
Clementine found it surprisingly difficult to get her research notes emailed to the Nature World offices. Ever since Ben had shown up at her door, eager to “borrow” Moose for the day, she’d been distracted beyond belief. Recounting her dog handling experience seemed of little importance compared to the fact that Ben was out there somewhere, mushing a dog team. And he’d taken Moose!
Work that she could normally do in her sleep took hours. It took every ounce of self-control she could
muster to stop herself from slamming shut her laptop and heading back to the animal shelter. There were enough dogs there to make up an entire team.
Get a grip on yourself. You’re a researcher, not a sled dog trainer.
She forced herself to keep plugging away. After she’d put in a couple of solid hours, she decided an emergency coffee run was in order. She found Anya behind the counter, wiping it down.
“Hi.” She gestured to one of the bar stools. “Have a seat.”
“Thanks.” Clementine glanced at the chalkboard next to the register, where the Special of the Day was always advertised. “Dark chocolate decadence latte. I have to ask, where in the world do you come up with these drinks?”
Anya shrugged, but there was a glimmer of satisfaction in her eyes. “It’s a special skill I have, I suppose. Would you like one?”
“Do you really have to ask?”
“One dark chocolate decadence latte, with extra whipped cream, coming right up.” Anya flipped the lever on the espresso machine. It came to life with a hiss.
Clementine sighed. “I could sit right here on this bar stool forever and die happy one day.”
“Could you really?” Anya gave her a sideways glance. “I see what’s going on here.”
Clementine tore her gaze from the picture window, where she could see one of those cute ski planes coming in for a landing, and watched Anya add a layer of steamed milk to her cup. “What do you mean?”
Anya shook the can of whipped topping and raised one accusatory eyebrow. “You’ve fallen in love.”
Clementine nearly fell off her bar stool. She was forced to grip the edge of the counter for support.
Were her feelings for Ben that noticeable? And were they strong enough to be called love?
“Um, well, I don’t know if I’d go that far,” she stammered.
Anya slid an overflowing latte cup across the counter toward her. The contents did indeed smell decadent. “You can’t fool me. You’ve fallen in love with Alaska.”
“With Alaska?” Clementine resumed normal breathing. She hadn’t even realized she’d stopped. “Oh.”
“Oh?” Anya echoed. “What, or should I say who, did you think I meant?”
Clementine dived into her latte so she would have a good excuse not to answer. Anya watched her with interest.
When she could no longer gulp any more of the rich coffee—decadent was an understatement—she put the cup down. “Never mind what I thought you meant. You’re one-hundred-percent correct. I am in love with Alaska.”
“I knew it. It happens.” Anya grinned. “A lot.”
“What’s it like to really live here?”
“Cold.”
Clementine laughed and looked out the window once more, where the snow had begun to fall in earnest. “I gathered that.”
“No, really.” Anya nodded toward the window. “This is nothing. It snows here nine months out of the year. Do you think you could grow accustomed to living somewhere like that coming from Texas?”
Clementine bit her lip to stop herself from blurting out Yes, yes I could! Why were they even having this conversation? One minute she was ordering coffee, and the next she was talking about moving to Alaska.
“It’s really beautiful in the summertime, though. You’d love it,” Anya continued, oblivious to the crazy thoughts swirling in Clementine’s mind.
“What about the bears?” Clementine glanced at the stuffed grizzly bear standing sentry over the coffee bar. His teeth were awfully pointed. And big.
Anya waved her dish towel at the grizzly. Its fur rippled slightly. “Don’t worry about them. It’s not as if they’re romping up and down the sidewalks. You just have to be careful out in the woods.”
Clementine’s thoughts turned to the woods by Ben’s cabin, which seemed like the perfect place for a bear. She closed her eyes and pictured him there right now, mushing with Kodiak and Moose pulling him through the snow.
“You know—” Anya’s voice brought her back to the present “—I could see you living here.”
“Really?” Clementine swelled with pride. Hadn’t it been only a matter of days since everyone in Alaska seemed to think she wasn’t cut out for much more than making foot lotion?
“Really.” Anya nodded. “I can’t quite put my finger on it. You just seem to belong here, like you’re one of us.”
It was probably the nicest thing she could have said.
* * *
Upon her return, Clementine heard the barking coming from her room the moment she stepped off the elevator. Her first thought was that at least Nugget hadn’t managed to escape while she’d been chatting with Anya, even though the Pomeranian was clearly making her annoyance at being left behind known. Clementine quickened her steps, eager to put an end to the commotion. Yet before she even slid her key card into the lock, she realized the barking didn’t sound at all like Nugget’s high-pitched little yap.
Woof woof woof.
Pause.
Woof woof woof.
It continued in perfect rhythm, and Clementine realized it wasn’t a dog at all. She pushed open the door and spotted her cell phone, with its barking ring tone, vibrating like mad in a wild dance across the dresser. How could she have forgotten to bring her cell phone with her to the coffee bar? Clearly she was more distracted than she even realized.
Nugget didn’t pay a bit of attention to the barking phone. Instead, she took a flying leap from the bed straight into Clementine’s arms. Clementine said a silent prayer of thanks when she managed to reach the phone before it stopped barking. She clutched Nugget to her chest and prayed once more—this time that the voice on the other end of the phone would be Ben. It had been only a matter of hours since he’d surprised her by picking up Moose and announcing he was going to take the dog mushing. He was most likely still following the woodland trail that snaked through the forest behind his lovely cabin. She couldn’t wait to hear how the morning had gone.
“Hello?” She sounded breathless, eager, but she just couldn’t help it.
Natalie began speaking almost before Clementine could even get the word out. “Oh. My. Gosh. The whole office just watched you on TV.”
“What?”
Natalie let out a squeal that Clementine was certain could be heard ten cubicles away. “You were on the Nature World Channel. As big as life, right there in the office lobby.”
Clementine could scarcely believe it. She’d been so wrapped up in helping Reggie get his team to the starting line that she’d forgotten all about the cameraman from Nature World. More than that, she’d been thinking about Ben and how he’d once stood beneath the Gold Rush Trail start banner himself.
“So you’re still coming back in a few days, right?” Natalie whispered into the phone.
It was a surprising question. Clementine could easily see the printed dates and times of her return trip on the itinerary that was folded neatly in the side pocket of her carry-on bag. But Reggie’s parting words rang in her consciousness.
In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps.
Then she remembered what Anya had said only a half hour before.
You’ve fallen in love…with Alaska.
She swallowed. Hard. “Nat, why are you asking me that?”
“I don’t know. I guess because you look so happy there.”
“I am happy.” Clementine’s cheeks burned with enough warmth to melt an igloo. “I’m actually thinking about staying a few extra days.”
“Really?” Natalie didn’t sound at all surprised.
“I’d like to go to Nome for the end of the race.” Even as she said the words, Clementine knew her reasons for traveling to Nome had little to do with the race. She wanted a little more time with Ben be
fore she had to say goodbye.
“Well, keep me posted. And don’t worry about a thing back here. I’ve got our cubicle under control.”
Natalie transferred Clementine to their supervisor’s line, and he quickly gave her approval to travel to Nome. In fact, he seemed to think it was a brilliant idea. Clementine hung up and stroked Nugget, who’d curled up in her lap with the moose dog toy planted firmly in her little jaws. She shook her head and caught the Pomeranian’s gaze. “We’re going to Nome.”
Nugget cocked her head and swiveled her tiny ears, perfect little triangles.
“When Jesus said He wanted me to have a full life, He wasn’t kidding.”
Nugget yipped in agreement and Clementine buried her face in the dog’s fuzzy coat. She’d taken God’s Word literally and He’d proven faithful. When she thought of all that had happened since she set foot in Alaska, her head spun. Learning to handle sled dogs, the start of the race, seeing Nugget on the front page of the paper, appearing on TV—the Nature World Channel! As miraculous as all of it had been, each one of those events paled in comparison to the moment her feet slid out from under her and she found herself in Ben Grayson’s arms. She wasn’t going to Nome just to see the end of the race. She was simply prolonging her inevitable trip back home.
I’m falling in love with him.
She lived over three thousand miles away, and she was falling in love with him. Just as she’d fallen in love with Alaska.
She’d come here to find her life, but instead she’d found love. Could Ben Grayson from Aurora, Alaska, really be the man God intended for her? Was it even possible?
A knock on the door to her room brought an abrupt end to the thought. Clementine hopped off the bed, scooped Nugget in her arms and swung open the door, fully expecting to find Ben standing on the threshold.
She blinked in confusion when instead she found Sue on the other side of the door. Her smile was grim. “Hi, Clementine.”
“Hi.” Clementine’s throat grew dry. Something was wrong. She could feel it. She looked past Sue in search of Ben. But he wasn’t there.
