Her mother sprang forward to open the door for her, so Robyn wouldn’t have to set the buckets down. “She’d probably love to, and I’ll feel better if I know you’re not all alone here.”
“Mom, don’t let Grandpa’s accident worry you too much. He’s going to be okay.”
“I don’t like his head injury. That CT scan they did yesterday showed a little bleeding in his brain. That’s not good. I’ll feel better when the doctor says he’s going to be all right.”
Rick Baker was headed out the door with his medical bag when his phone rang. He paused in the kitchen and answered it.
“Hi, Dr. Baker? Rick? It’s Robyn.”
He smiled at her tentative greeting. “Yes, it’s me, Robyn. Is anything wrong?” The pretty young woman next door rarely called him, and if she did, it usually meant her dogs needed his professional care. Sometimes he wished she wanted to see him because he was Rick, not because he was the vet who lived close by. He’d been too busy, though, to pursue the idea or the woman.
“One of my dogs had an accident yesterday. Actually, eight of them did, but Coco seems to be the only one who’s hurt. She and Grandpa.”
“Your grandfather was injured?”
“Yes.” Her voice drooped like a slack towline. “He’s at the hospital.”
“What happened?”
She hesitated. “It’s my fault. I let him take a team out. He thought he could handle them. I tried to tell him they were too much for him, but he wanted to do it so badly. I … I caved.”
Rick could almost see her mournful dark eyes. He knew she was well past twenty years old, but today she sounded like a frightened kid.
“Is it serious?”
“We’re not sure yet. They did some tests yesterday, and they’re going to do a few more today. Mom’s there now.”
He glanced at his watch. If he stopped at the Hollands’, he’d arrive at the clinic a few minutes late. But Robyn sounded like she needed a little reassurance. “Would you like me to take a look at Coco before I head for Anchorage?”
“Oh, today’s your day at the clinic, isn’t it?”
“Actually, I’m doing two days a week now. But I can take a quick look.”
“I’d really appreciate it.”
Ten minutes later he walked across the Hollands’ dog lot with Robyn. She described the runaway sled and showed him where the team had collided with the shed wall. She took him into the female dogs’ enclosure and led him to Coco’s tether.
He stooped to greet the injured husky. “Hey there, Coco.” He let the dog sniff his hands before touching her. “Where does it hurt, girl?”
“She hit her right front leg hardest.” Robyn squatted beside him. “She’s probably sore all over today.”
Rick took his gloves off and ran his hand over the dog’s shoulder and leg. “It’s a little warm, and there seems to be some swelling. Not broken, though.”
She nodded. “So, rest? What else?”
“Did she eat her breakfast?”
“Yeah.”
He checked the dog’s eyes and general appearance. Coco seemed alert and happy to see him. He felt her pulse and watched her respiration for a moment. “Okay. Give her a couple of days off, and make sure she keeps warm.” He glanced toward the doghouse. The Hollands were good about providing shelter and bedding for their dogs in winter. “If she seems better then, start light exercise. Let her run free if you can, or put her on a leash and walk her around for ten or fifteen minutes. If she’s no worse the next day, do a little more…. And I’ll try to stop in again tomorrow and see how she’s doing.”
“Thanks.”
He stood and pulled his gloves on. “No problem. And if she’s worse, give me a call.” They walked toward the gate. “I hope your grandfather’s all right.”
“Mom will probably come back for lunch before she goes to work. She’ll tell me what the doctor said then.”
Robyn looked young and vulnerable in her blue quilted jacket. Her dark hair hung in a thick braid over her shoulder, and her eyes held self-reproach.
“Hey.” He reached out with his gloved hand and tilted her chin up. “You’re not blaming yourself for your granddad’s accident, are you?”
She shrugged. “I shouldn’t have let him take the team out.”
Rick considered that. Steve Holland was a stubborn old man. He’d forgotten more about dogs than most men ever learned, and he could dig in his heels when he wanted to.
“Who does your mother blame?” he asked.
Robyn hesitated a moment and looked down. “Grandpa.”
“And who does Grandpa blame?”
“Himself.”
Rick nodded. “So tell me, who’s blaming Robyn?”
She smiled sheepishly but said nothing.
“Right. We all know you couldn’t have stopped him, don’t we?” Before she could protest, he turned her chin again, so that she looked up into his eyes. “This is not your fault.”
“Okay.” She held his gaze, and Rick took his time soaking in the view. He’d known Robyn a little over a year, and she intrigued him. She had a toughness the Alaska terrain and family hardships had taught her, but she had a tender side, too—the one that made her feel guilty when she didn’t deserve it. She stirred a protectiveness in him, but he sensed she wouldn’t accept that from a man unless she was desperate. Or in love.
“I’m going to call you tonight,” he said on impulse.
Her eyebrows rose, forming delicate arches.
He nodded. “I want to check on Coco and your grandpa. So be ready with a report this evening.”
She smiled. “That’s nice of you. Thanks.”
“No trouble.” He left her and walked out toward his pickup. Fifteen minutes late, but fifteen minutes well spent. And tonight when he called, it would be as much to gauge Robyn’s spirits as to check on the two patients. He looked forward to it, and he hadn’t even left her driveway yet.
two
At about eleven o’clock, Robyn heard her mother drive in. When she went into the house, her mom was just ending a phone conversation.
“Hi, honey. That was a potential customer. A man from California is interested in buying some dogs.”
“That’s great,” Robyn said. “It would be good to sell a few yearlings. That would help our cash flow and give us more space for boarders.”
“Yeah. He … wants to buy some breeding stock. He’s coming next week to look over what you have.”
Robyn stared at her. “I don’t want to sell my breeding stock, Mom. You know that.”
“Honey, we may not have a choice. Besides, you’ve got some adult dogs you planned on selling, haven’t you?”
“A few.” Robyn washed her hands at the sink. Since Dad died, they’d gotten by with the dog business and her mother’s part-time job. But Mom worried a lot about their finances. She never seemed to believe they would have enough money to pay the bills each month. Sometimes Robyn thought Mom would rather get rid of all the dogs and live a “normal” life. But Robyn couldn’t live without dogs.
She picked up the towel and dried her hands. “How’s Grandpa?”
“Not so good. His bruises look terrible today.” Mom shook her head and sighed. “It’s his head injury that’s got the doctor worried though. He’s concerned enough that he wants to monitor Grandpa for another day or two.”
“Well …” Robyn eyed her cautiously. “I guess that’s best for him.”
“Yes, I’m sure it is. It could get expensive, though.”
“Won’t Medicare pay for it?”
“For the hospital stay, yes, if it’s not too long. But his muscles won’t be used to working when he’s ready to leave the hospital. The doctor said they’ll probably transfer him to a skilled care nursing home for a couple of weeks of rehab.”
Robyn let that sink in. No wonder her mother hadn’t discouraged the dog buyer.
“I don’t want to sell my breeding dogs, Mom. Or my leaders. I need them for training.”
&n
bsp; Her mother nodded but said nothing. They finished eating in silence.
Darby Zale arrived at the Hollands’ home soon after the school bus passed.
Robyn called to her and let her in to wait while she pulled on her jacket, boots, and gloves.
At sixteen, Darby hovered between exuberant kid and gorgeous woman. Her thick auburn hair and flawless skin frequently motivated Robyn to pray that she wouldn’t be envious. It wasn’t fair for a girl as young as Darby to look so good without even trying.
Darkness had already fallen, and Robyn put on her headlamp and handed Darby a flashlight before they went out the back door.
“They’re getting so big!” Darby sidled through the gate with Robyn, into the puppy enclosure at one side of the dog yard.
“Yeah, they’re getting pretty good at taking a few commands. It’s time to start putting the puppy harness on them.”
“Oh, I love it when we do that.”
Robyn nodded. “Okay. I’ve got six dogs I want to take out for a training run. Why don’t you play with the pups while I do that, and afterward, we’ll do a short session with them.”
“Great!” Darby gladly hung about the Hollands’ kennels to help with the dogs and learn about sledding and training. Robyn got the team’s harnesses ready and coached Darby through slipping one onto Rounder, an energetic three-year-old she hoped to sell soon. If the potential customer wanted fast, strong sled dogs and didn’t care about breeding … she refused to think about it for the moment.
She handed Darby another harness. They hitched up the rest of the team she would exercise—several veterans and one yearling. Robyn hooked the towline to the repaired sled and waved to Darby, who stood near the puppy pen.
Getting out onto the trail always made Robyn feel more alive. She didn’t mind sledding in the dark, though it hid the valley’s magnificent scenery from her. You had to get used to it, or you wouldn’t get much training time in Wasilla. This time of year, the area got only about four hours of daylight, and the air temperatures generally stayed below freezing. The dogs loved it.
She belonged out here, too. The crisp, fresh air and the firm snow perked her up and made her want to ride on and on. The dogs pulled eagerly beneath the moon. Her initial concerns about the sled she’d repaired seemed unfounded—it moved just as it should and held together.
She swung behind Rick Baker’s house. The veterinarian had assured her that she could take the dogs over his property any time, and Robyn liked having some different scenery for the dogs. Rick’s land also held a short section of the 100-mile trail for the Fire & Ice, the annual race the Holland Kennel sponsored in January. Several other landowners let them run over their property and turned out to help man checkpoints for the race.
As the dogs pulled her along, she prayed silently for Grandpa. If he went to the rehab place, would he be able to come home in time for this year’s race? They’d received forty-eight entries—a record number for the Fire & Ice. Some of the names on the list impressed even Grandpa, who knew every musher in Alaska. A few well-known dog racers liked to use the Hollands’ race as a warm-up for longer competitions or a training ground for young dogs. That suited Robyn just fine. It gave the Hollands an opportunity to display their kennel and dogs they had raised to potential customers.
The race fell on January twenty-third this year, which gave her only a few weeks to complete all the preparations. Without Grandpa’s help, she would carry most of the load.
When she got back to the house half an hour later, Darby came smiling from the puppies’ enclosure. “How’d they do?” she called.
“Perfect.” Robyn stopped the team and started to set the snow hook. “Hey, do you know how to use one of these?”
“Not very well,” Darby admitted, eyeing the metal hook uncertainly.
“Well, come on, girl. Now that we’ve got plenty of snow again, it’s time you learned.” Robyn beckoned her over and showed her how to push the hook into the snow near the sled, so that she could step on it and anchor it well while holding onto the sled’s handlebar. She had the dogs move forward a little, putting tension on the anchor line.
“Now, if you want to release it, they have to back up.” She pulled back on the sled, and the dogs inched backward. “As long as they’re pulling on the line, if you’ve set it right, they can’t go.”
“That is so cool. Can I try it?”
Robyn grinned. “When you can do it right, I’ll let you mush around the yard.”
Darby was an apt pupil, and in less than ten minutes Robyn unhooked the two youngest dogs from the towline and rearranged the four older dogs.
“Okay. Don’t forget to hold onto the sled when you take the snow hook off. If you can stand on the brake with one foot while you do it, that’s even better.” Robyn stood near the leaders, just in case. She didn’t want another runaway team.
Darby pulled on the rope attached to the top of the hook and released it without trouble. The dogs twitched when they heard it come out of the snow.
“Brake,” Robyn called.
Darby quickly put all her weight on the brake board.
“You’re good,” Robyn assured her. “Now wind up the rope and stow the hook. You don’t want it dragging along behind the sled.”
Darby fumbled with the line. “I’m nervous.”
“Take your time. The dogs will know you’re antsy, and they will be, too.” Robyn was glad she’d cut the team down to four dogs. She’d considered letting Darby take them outside the enclosure today, but thought better of it. With a little more practice, Darby would gain the confidence she needed to control the team without the aid of a fence. For now, a trot around the path inside the yard would be enough.
After Darby’s short ride, they put the dogs and the harness away and spent some time with the puppies, putting the small harness on each one for just a few minutes. Robyn was pleased that most of them obeyed her “sit” and “come” commands without error.
“Guess I’d better get home.” Darby looked toward the sky. The moon still hung overhead.
“Thanks for the help,” Robyn said. “Do you want me to drive you home in the truck?”
“No, I’ll be okay if I leave now.”
“Take the flashlight.”
“Thanks. Can I come back tomorrow?”
“Yes. Oh—call first. I’m not sure if Grandpa’s coming home or not.”
“I hope he will. Bye.” Darby dashed down the driveway.
Robyn went into the house and filled the woodstove. She liked to have a hot supper waiting when her mother got home from work. Afterward, she would feed the dogs with the aid of the lights in the dog lot and a powerful flashlight. Half the year at least she did her chores after dark or before the sun rose. She’d never lived anywhere else, so she expected it. But Aven had told her he’d had trouble sleeping when he went for his Coast Guard training in New Jersey. The sun never seemed to rise or set at the right time. After that, he’d served for a while in the Gulf of Mexico, and between the lack of snow and the comparatively long daylight hours in winter, he’d felt displaced at first.
“I kind of liked it after a while,” he’d confessed to her. “It was too hot in summer, but the rest of the year was nice. I don’t think people got as depressed as they do up here in the winter.”
She puttered about the kitchen, thinking over what her mother had told her at noon. Grandpa’s medical care could place a financial burden on them. He didn’t have a large amount of savings. Most of what they all earned went for family expenses and maintaining the dogs and equipment. They’d each received a payment in the fall from Alaska’s Permanent Fund, and right now they were solvent. But that would only go so far.
Robyn’s biggest income came from selling puppies and older dogs she and Grandpa had trained. Sometimes she trained dogs for other people, but most serious mushers trained their own dogs. Right now she had a team of eight belonging to a sledder who had suffered appendicitis and undergone surgery. He’d asked her to take some of
his dogs for six weeks and keep them in shape, so he wouldn’t lose ground on training for the upcoming races. The other forty dogs out back were Holland dogs. Their upkeep was a spendy enterprise.
Mom came home about six o’clock with the trunk of her car full of groceries.
Robyn couldn’t help noticing the fatigue lines at the corners of her eyes as she helped unload. “Are you going to the hospital tonight?” she asked.
“No, I don’t think so. I called the nurses’ station before I left work. Grandpa’s doing all right and resting. I told her we’d come in the morning. I don’t have to work tomorrow, and I thought you’d like to see him.”
“Yes, I would.”
Her mother nodded. “The doctor might know for sure by then what they plan to do to continue treatment.”
“If they move him to a nursing home, will it be in Anchorage?” Robyn asked.
“I’m not sure yet. Guess we’ll have to do some research.”
“Maybe I can get online later.”
Her mother smiled wearily. “That would be good. Would you like help feeding tonight?”
“I can do it,” Robyn said, though she’d have been glad for an extra pair of hands. Her mother looked wrung out.
“Okay, then I’m going to pack a few things to take to Dad tomorrow. He wants his razor and his Bible. I’ll take some clean clothes, too, in case they release him.”
Robyn took out her cell phone and checked it before she went out to feed the dogs. They’d given up the land line to save money the year before and relied on their cells now. She hoped Rick would remember his promise to call her.
“Hey, Rick, any chance you can cover for me next Monday?” Bob Major, the principal partner of the Far North Veterinary Hospital in Anchorage, stopped him in the lobby before Rick could get out the door.
“Uh …” Rick quickly tabulated all the things on his agenda for Monday. “I don’t think so, Bob. I’ve got a lot of patient visits lined up in the Palmer area and office hours in Wasilla. Besides, you already said you need me next Thursday.”
Fire and Ice Page 2
