by Cherry Adair
He at least had the advantage of his T-FLAC training and could subsist for weeks on very little sleep. But he saw the lines of strain on her face, and knowing Lily, she'd push herself until she dropped. A break of even an hour would do her good. And since there seemed to be a silent truce, he'd take what he could get when he could get it.
Of course, telling Lily he was stopping for her own good would probably get him shot.
"Are you pleased about your father remarrying?" Lily asked, keeping it casual as she checked the dogs' booties and gave scratches behind ears as she moved down the line. Talking about the upcoming wedding was safe. It kept her blood pressure down, and it was a finite kind of conversation. His father's wedding was going to be held at the ranch a couple of weeks after they returned from the race. She'd met his father a couple of times when he'd visited Derek at the ranch. She'd also met his sister, Marnie, and her family. There was a twin brother out there somewhere, and another couple of brothers. If they were anything like Derek, Lily shuddered to think of the trail of broken hearts they'd left in their wake.
She promised herself she wouldn't bring up anything inflammatory. Not now anyway.
She kept a professional eye out for injuries as she went down the line. The dogs were barely breathing hard, and rarin' to go with excitement, yet they needed to pace themselves. So did she. They'd barely started and there were a thousand grueling miles to go.
"I am. Yes," Derek said, answering the wedding question as he added a few dry branches to the small fire he'd started. "Sunny is good for him. He was alone a long time before he met her."
Lily automatically checked Derek's dogs too before joining him at the fire. "Kodi's favoring his right foot. We'll keep an eye on it, although he's done that since he was a puppy to get extra attention, so I'm not too worried." She drew off her gloves and rubbed her hands as she stood over the flames. She noticed with appreciation that Derek had set a pot on the fire filled with coffee. Her taste buds salivated.
"Your mom died when you were pretty young, right?" She knew they had that much in common.
"Yeah, but my grandmother was there. Here." He handed her a steaming mug. "Be careful, it's hot."
"I'm feeding the dogs first—"
"Drink your coffee. I've got it."
Lily scowled. "We're not supposed to help each other."
Derek poured out food into bowls and started taking them down the line. The dogs, still harnessed and standing, dug into the high-fat, high-protein snack. They didn't care who handed it out as long as it was there. "Stupid rule since we're both in the same place. Hungry?"
"No."
"You'd better remember to eat on this trip. Since you took care of the moose for me, I'd feel obligated to backtrack to check if you've fainted from starvation somewhere along the trail. Think of it as tit for tat, especially since very soon I'll be so far ahead of you, I won't be able to repay your assistance. I'm winning this race." He was not talking about the Iditarod.
Lily gulped the last inch of scalding-hot coffee. It must've burned like lava all the way down her esophagus. "I've never fainted in my life. And for the record, I'm going to win."
He let that pass.
They were both going to win.
She rarely thought about food for herself, but coffee was essential. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm not one of the thoroughbreds you usually date. We mutts have way more staying power than the show dogs of the world."
She poured the last couple of servings of dog food into bowls and walked down the line to place them in the snow in front of Derek's wheel dogs.
"Nothing wrong with a good, faithful mutt," he said, laughing. "That said, you have an erroneous and completely false idea of my love life, Doc. Though you know you're always welcome to ask. I don't mind telling."
"Really? Wow." She gave him a mock admiring glance. "Thanks, but I think I'll pass on that. This mutt isn't interested in that particular treat."
"Not even if I promise to pet you?"
She stilled, shot him what she hoped was a quelling look despite the rush of something hot and luscious deep inside. "Want to pet something? Try one of your short-lived girlfriends. Here's an idea." Lily struggled to keep the sarcasm to a minimum. "Have her meet you at the next stop. Assuming she can find Alaska on a map."
Then she straightened, unsettled by the catty turn of her own thoughts. "Are you done resting? Because I am. I want to make Skwentna before dark." Only if she were jet propelled. But let him sweat thinking about it.
"It wouldn't kill you to take a full hour."
"I am taking a full hour," Lily said, peeling back the layers of clothing at her wrist to glance at her watch. "See? Thirty-eight minutes. Almost exactly an hour."
He shook his head and bit back a smile at her impatience. "We need to get you a watch without Mickey on it, Doc."
Lily was so tired she couldn't see straight. Almost in a trance, brain turned off, she arrived at the Skwentna checkpoint on autopilot, well after dark.
She'd come one hundred miles.
Skwentna was a small village located on the river by the same name. This would be the busiest and biggest checkpoint because all the teams hit here at some point during the first twenty-four-or-so hours of the race. After tonight the teams would be straggled all over the countryside.
The Delias—Joe, the local postmaster, and his wife, Norma—generously fed close to four hundred people every Iditarod, helped by an army of local volunteers called the Skwentna Sweeties. The smell of their famous stew scented the crisp air and made Lily's mouth water.
The area around the two-story cabin was already a beehive of noise and activity. Lily blinked at the lights, which were far too bright after traveling so long by moonlight. The noise, too, seemed extra loud to someone accustomed to nothing more than the sounds of her own breathing and the soft swish of rails on snow.
Exhausted teams were scattered on beds of straw on the ice. Nearby planes landed and took off, a diesel engine roared constantly and newly arrived dogs barked, ready to go again.
Lily checked in, snagged the straw bale they gave her, tossed it into the sled and went on to pick up her food bags. Matt was there to check her team, and she stood by silently, too tired to move.
"You made good time," he told her, checking Deny's feet.
Lily grunted. There were already at least twenty teams resting, which had made it in better time than she had.
"How was the trail?" Matt asked, handing her a candy bar.
Lily tore into it, barely getting the wrapper off before her teeth sank in. "You're a prince. Oh, God, this is good. Thank you," she said around a mouthful of glorious, thick, dark rich chocolate. Second only to coffee. Food of the gods. "Other than a moose spotting, uneventful." She polished off the last half with enthusiasm. The sugar hit was welcome.
Matt gave her a hard up-and-down look while she chewed. "Are you okay? Did she attack?"
"He. Yeah, he lit into Derek's sled and kicked the beejeebers out of it—" She interrupted herself to yawn. "The dogs are all okay, his sled's fine and Derek wasn't hurt. Fortunately," Lily gave him a devilish grin, "I came in, guns blazing, and saved the day."
His eyes narrowed. "You're carrying a gun?"
"Of course. Isn't everyone up here? Hey, I was lucky not to have to kill the big guy."
"Derek?" Matt said with a smile.
"Don't put ideas in my head."
"I'm glad you weren't hurt, Wonder Woman. Although Derek's pride must've taken a hit having you charge in and save his bacon."
"Well, yes, there was that nice perk," Lily said, enjoying the memory.
"Did you have any time to talk to him?"
"About what?"
"Any of it," Matt said absently, picking up Adam's back leg and removing the bootie to check the dog's foot. "Diablo specifically."
The bogus bull sperm business. Lily frowned, following Matt's movements as he inspected each dog. He was thorough. She leaned against the sled, satisfied that he'd find anyth
ing she might've missed. The vet inspection had to be done officially and reported, no matter that she was qualified to do it herself. "No. But I will."
"When?"
"When we get back and I have all the facts. Now's not the time. But honest to God, Matt, I thought he was going to say something yesterday in Anchorage. He didn't. And frankly that conversation went badly enough for me to be grateful we didn't have to bring Diablo up, too."
"Good. Wait till after the race. And I want to be with you when you do," Matt told her grimly, pausing from his inspection of the dogs to look at her. "Seriously, Lily. Promise me."
Fatigue clawed at her, and she fought it back. "Why? Do you think he'd hurt me in some way because I found out? To be fair, which in this case chaps my hide, there's an outside chance that he doesn't know anything about the illegal sales; have you thought of that?"
"Yeah, I have. But I know Derek would never hurt you. This is an important race, so it probably isn't the best time. We've got someone I trust looking into how involved this is. Wait until all the findings are in. And for God's sake, just promise that I'm there when you do broach the subject."
"I will. Thanks, Matt." She wasn't sure who to trust anymore. Who else knew about the sales of bull sperm being made under the table? Diablo's sperm was like gold, highly prized and incredibly expensive.
From what Lily had been able to piece together, the illegal sales had been going on for years. Sean had been eyebrow deep in it, using her expertise and qualifications to legitimize what he'd been doing. All without her knowledge. The thought made Lily sick to her stomach. The money from Sean's illegal activities sat untouched in the bank in the Caymans until she and Matt and the investigator could go to the authorities with all the information necessary.
God. What a mess. She had no idea how many cows had been inseminated by fake Diablo sperm. Could be thousands.
The question that had been going around and around in her head for the last six weeks was, was Derek involved in the scam?
She'd overheard the conversation between two of the hands five weeks ago. She hadn't confronted them, but she'd started piecing together what little paper trail she could find. The more she'd discovered, the bigger the scam appeared. Sales of "Diablo" sperm had been made worldwide. Japan, Korea, Europe—the list and magnitude of the illegal operation was staggering.
She hadn't confided in her father. But she'd told Matt. He'd cautioned her not to report anything to the authorities until they could ascertain if what she thought she knew was fact. He knew a private investigator and had put him on retainer to track down who was involved before Lily made any accusations.
Stud fees for a prize bull like Diablo were big business. Fortunes were made and lost on the strength of a herd. And a bull like Diablo could guarantee big, healthy calves. The profits from the sale of his sperm were in the millions. Someone was selling inferior liquid gold and labeling it as Diablo's. As randy as the bull was, he had only so much sperm. There were fake little test tube bulls out there with false pedigrees.
Lily had been a lot more observant of late. Who suddenly had a lot of money? And what was sudden, after all? As far as she could figure out, this had been going on for years. Derek had made a good point the other day about her not noticing things. In her own defense she was not a rancher, she was a vet. Sean had done the books, and after he died, Derek had taken over.
How was she supposed to know the ins and outs of the ranch when both men had made a special point of leaving her out of the daily working of the business end of it? And the reality was, outside of her passion for working with the animals, she had had absolutely no interest in running the ranch. Derek clearly had money. He'd come from wealth and was easy with it. His lifestyle hadn't changed since she'd known him. Unlike Sean, he'd never thrown his money around. But then, Lily thought with irritation, the man took a hell of a lot of exotic vacations. He also owned his own plane, and several very nice vehicles.
But Sean… Sean had lived a lot higher on the hog than Derek ever had.
"You must be thinking about your dearly departed."
Lily blinked. "What?"
"Must be thinking about Sean. You have that I-want-to-dig-him-up-and-kill-the-son-of-a-bitch-all-over-again look in your eyes."
Lily forced a smile. "I do not."
Matt gave her a sympathetic look, which made Lily feel even more guilty. Because some secrets were meant to stay just that. Secret.
"One of these days," her stepbrother told her gruffly, "you're going to meet a great guy and live happily ever after."
"Not even if Brad Pitt proposed would I put myself through that again," Lily assured him cheerfully, pushing all thoughts of virile males, bovine and human, aside. "Thanks but no thanks. I have my family, my dogs and a Shower Massage. All is right with my world."
Matt gave a laughing grimace and raised a hand. "Information overload. Okay. I get the message. The widow Munroe will turn into old lady Munroe. You know, the one with all those dogs."
"That'll be me."
"Things can change…"
"Nah. Why mess with a good thing? Let's concentrate on finding you the perfect woman."
"How about a bunch of imperfect women first?" Matt teased.
Several more teams clustered behind them, waiting for the vets to check them. The time for private conversation was over. Instead, Lily was forced to make nice with several people who came to offer their condolences about Sean's death and to chat about the start of the trail and what they anticipated up ahead.
As tired as she was, Lily wanted to get out of the crowd and back on the trail.
"When did you eat last?" Matt asked as a couple of mushers dragged themselves up to the house for a meal and some shut-eye. "Stew's real good tonight," he added, as he continued down the line, checking legs and feet for trouble. The kids were still amped up and rarin' to go, though. And as long as they were fine to run, she had no complaints and wasn't stopping. She could sleep standing up on the sled. Lord knew, she'd done it before.
It was way too crowded here for her tired brain, and her stomach was growling. Along with the scent of cook fires and diesel she could smell the savory stew on the cold air. "I'm quick-stopping. As soon as I'm done sorting my food bags. It's too too here."
Matt raised a brow. "Too?"
Lily rotated her neck. "Too noisy, too bright, too frenetic." She was starting to use Derekisms herself. After. After Sean. What did that mean?
"Don't go too far," Matt cautioned. "You and the dogs all need sleep. And for God's sake," he said sternly, touching a gloved finger to the tip of her icy nose, "don't forget to eat something yourself!"
"Yes, Mom." She smiled. "That chocolate will hold me for a bit." It was nice having a big brother. "Are we good to go?"
"Yeah. Travel safe. I'll check your food bags through for you. See you at Finger Lake."
"With bells on," Lily assured him. "Thanks." Maybe she could push on another four hours and beat the rush to the next checkpoint.
She checked her lines one last time, hugged Matt good-bye and notified the checker she was leaving.
"Let's go, kids." The dogs took off as if spring-loaded. Lily laughed as the chill wind slapped her face and snow sprayed out in a rooster tail behind the sled as they headed back into the wilderness.
It was a perfect travel night. Crisply cold, bright with moonlight, the snow packed and fast. If she could catch a few hours' sleep while mushing behind the sled she'd have it made.
Full of beef stew, he lay against the wall of the lodge wrapped in his damp sleeping bag trying to defrost his extremities. He hadn't been that late, and it pissed him off that all the choice spots near the fire had already been taken. Losers.
The floor was hard. He rolled over to find a more comfortable spot. There wasn't one. He wanted his own bed with an intense longing. Hell, he wanted his own bed, a fifth of scotch and a soft broad. Not necessarily in that order.
But here he was. In the middle of fucking Nowheresville.
He closed gritty eyes. Opened them again. She'd have to stop to sleep. Even as driven as she was, she'd have to fucking stop, at least to rest the dogs.
He tossed the sleeping bag aside, glanced around the firelit room. Lumps under sleeping bags as far as the eye could see. Everyone was catching z's. No chatting, no socializing, no watching the nonexistent fucking TV. When these assholes stopped it was necessity, not a vacation.
It had only been one day. But what a fucking day. He was sick and tired of the noise of all these freaking damn dogs yipping and barking. He was sick of all the goddamned snow. The landscape was nothing but white and green, white and green, white and green, as far as the eye could see.
And goddamn it, he was fucking sick of being cold all the freaking time.
He hefted himself out of the bag and sighed. Honest to God. This cat-and-mouse game was supposed to at least afford him a little fun. But this was purgatory. He wanted to be done with it. He wasn't interested in a good time anymore. All he wanted now was the bitch dead and his ass on a nice warm plane home.
"I hope you appreciate that I'm now going to make this quick, Lily," he said under his breath, pulling on his still-wet boots with a grimace.
Nobody stirred as he tiptoed around the snoring, snorting, farting lumps scattered around the room.
"Losers," he muttered under his breath as he opened the door to blackness and cold. Cold so fucking icy it felt like tiny ice picks attacking his eyeballs and freezing the snot in his nose. "Fuck Alaska."
Five
Derek slipped the handheld screen of the GPS out of his pocket. He'd had a small side bet with himself that Lily wouldn't stay at the last checkpoint for one second longer than it took to check in, get the dogs inspected and be on her way again. He'd been right on the money.
"Get up!" he yelled out to encourage the dogs to pull harder and pick up speed. He needed to head two degrees southwest to intercept Lily. He'd detoured from the trail because of the rough terrain caused by the Ice Dog snow-machine race, which had occurred several weeks before. Lily, being Lily, would take the direct route, even though she'd have to travel over the heavy-duty tracks left by the big machines.
