Let There Be Love: The Sled Dog Series, Book 1

by Melissa Storm

  Lauren waited in the parking lot for someone to finish and pack up to go home. It didn’t take long before a woman about her age appeared with a single dog at her side.

  “Hi. Can I ask you a question?” Lauren said, striding up to her, trying to appear confident but not like a traveling saleswoman or some kind of petition pusher.

  She shrugged and instructed her dog—an enormous black brindle Akita—to sit with a quick flip of the wrist. “I guess so. Not sure I’ll have a good answer, but shoot.”

  “Thank you so much.” Lauren hugged her notebook to her chest and reached out to shake the girl’s hand. “I’m Lauren Dalton, and I’m here trying to learn about my father. He was a racer back in the 90’s.”

  “I wasn’t a racer in the 90’s. Actually, I was born in the 90’s.”

  “Me too,” Lauren said with a laugh. “Are you a racer now?”

  The girl shook her head. “Nope. Samson here likes the trails, and we live so close by, we come here to do most of our walking.”

  “Oh.” Lauren could feel the corners of her mouth tug down.

  “But we’re around racers enough to know the high points. What was your father’s name?”

  “Edward Dalton?” Lauren said it like a question, even though it was not.

  She shook her head, seeming genuinely sad about not being able to help. “It sounds kind of familiar, but not familiar enough for me to give you what you’re looking for.”

  “Well, thank you for your time. I’m sorry to have bothered you.”

  “No, that’s okay. I just hope you find what you’re looking for.” She gestured for her dog to stand at her side and tightened the leash in her grip.

  Lauren turned to see if there were any other people coming toward the parking lot. Maybe the next would have some answers for her.

  But the girl with the Akita called her back. “Wait!”

  Lauren turned, a fresh ray of hope shining in her heart.

  “Have you tried asking at Loussac?” she said, idly petting her dog’s head as she waited for Lauren’s answer.

  “No. Is that another trail grounds?”

  The girl laughed. “No, it’s the library. They keep all kinds of old articles and memorabilia. Actually, one of the librarians there is a friend of mine, and she’s kind of obsessed with all things racing. Maybe she’ll have some information on your father.”

  The library. Of course!

  “Thank you for your help,” Lauren shouted before rushing back toward her car and revving up the engine. She didn’t realize until she was pulling back on the main road that she’d forgotten to ask the friendly stranger for her name.

  The ZJ Loussac Public Library looked more like a high school than anything. With rounded architecture and crazy modern sculptures, this hardly felt like the place to uncover the secrets of the past. It felt more like a time machine into the future. Hadn’t HG Wells written a book like that?

  Lauren’s father had always been a huge fan of science fiction novels, even though she hadn’t read more than were required of her to get a passing grade in twelfth grade English. Had he once set foot inside this place, too?

  Lauren swept into the building on a gust of cold wind, almost as if her father’s ghost was urging her forward. Maybe he’d meant to share this past with her but had never found the right time.

  How she wished he were still here—for this reason and many more. When your entire world shatters at once, it’s never really possible to pick up all the scattered pieces again. Was she no better than Shane with his broken vase, tirelessly kicking at the shards left behind and expecting them to form some kind of whole?

  No.

  She liked to think her intentions were nobler—and saner—than that. Her father would have wanted her to know. Surely he’d planned to tell her soon. Maybe even invite her up to Anchorage to explore his old stomping grounds. She wasn’t supposed to be here alone.

  The library interior was every bit as intimidating as its exterior. Maybe even more. She found herself amidst a strange hodgepodge of both old and new. When had libraries transformed into tech centers? Why couldn’t books be enough to satisfy knowledge seekers?

  She shook off her discomfort and headed to the large reception desk before her. Two workers manned the desk, though the older of the two pretended not to notice as Lauren approached.

  The younger girl smiled brightly and placed the books she’d been scanning aside to greet their patron. “Hello!” she sang merrily. “How can we help you?”

  Was this the librarian who the girl with the Akita had told her about?

  The senior staffer continued to click things on the computer and pretend that Lauren didn’t exist. Other than Shane, this was the coldest reception she’d received since setting foot in Alaska. It felt oddly out of place.

  But the young librarian smiled even more broadly and repeated, “Can I help somehow?”

  “Yes, do you have any old copies of the Times?”

  “Sure, we do! Do you need Anchorage or New York?”

  “Anchorage, please.”

  “And how old are we talking?”

  “1992-1995.”

  “Oooh, that means we get to dig into the microfiche,” the girl exclaimed. Her blonde hair was almost as pale as the snow outside, providing a stark contrast to her bright and rosy cheeks and her heavily glossed lips. Other than the lipstick, she wore no makeup, as far as Lauren could tell.

  “Follow me,” she said, stepping out from behind the desk and beckoning Lauren to follow her. “By the way, I’m Scarlett.”

  “I’m Lauren. Hi.” She reached to offer her hand, which the librarian pumped enthusiastically in greeting.

  “Hello!” Wow, Scarlett was an animated one. The effect was enhanced even more by her clothes, which were every bit as bright as her hair and skin were fair. She wore a purple blouse with navy green khakis and pink boots. Lauren had to admire her courage for putting together such an ensemble, especially since it worked.

  Scarlett chattered the entire journey into the back of the library and led Lauren into a small, dark room. She flicked on the lights and marched down one of the aisles, trailing her finger on the labels of boxes as she went.

  “Ah-ha!” she cried, finding the one she was looking for. She pulled it down and brought it over to a table with a super old computer-like thing sitting on top of it.

  “Check this stuff out,” she said, pulling out one of the micro fiche sheets and squinting at it in the light. “Neat, right?”

  “Sure,” Lauren said with a laugh. “We’ll go with neat.”

  Scarlett loaded up the first sheet and turned the screen on. “Are you here for a school project?”

  Lauren shook her head. “No, I’m done with school. This is a family history project, I guess.”

  “Oooh, genealogy. That is one of my favorite things. Right after the great race, of course.” Yes, this was definitely the librarian she’d heard tell of at the trails.

  “Funny you should say that,” Lauren confessed. “Because my father was a racer once, and I’m trying to learn about him. And I guess I’m kind of in the business, too. I recently signed up as a handler for Shane Ramsey. Have you heard of him?”

  “Shane Ramsey?” Scarlett’s cheeks grew redder still. “Oh, yes. Everyone has heard of him. I have some of his old gear, actually.”

  “Here? At the library? Can I see it?” Maybe she could make progress on the Shane mystery while she was here, too. Two birds with one stone at its finest.

  Scarlett shifted her gaze back to the stacks. “No, not here. I have a collection at home. Racing memorabilia and other things like that.”

  “What kind of things?” Lauren asked, at once enchanted and overwhelmed by the vivacious librarian.

  “Oh, all sorts of things! I have snow hooks and harnesses and gang lines and claw breaks and, well, you get the idea. Sometimes I try to play off how obsessed I am with racing when talking to normal people.” Scarlett shrugged and rolled her eyes, making her a
bit more approachable.

  “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me. Besides, I am far from being normal.”

  They both laughed. “That’s good. I guess it means we can be friends.”

  “Sure, I could always use more friends, especially those who know so much about the kinds of things I’m trying to learn for myself.”

  Scarlett stayed with her while she continued to search through the microfiche, but neither found anything more than what Lauren already had from the box. When it was time to go, they exchanged numbers and promised to be in touch. Lauren even said she would have Scarlett up to meet Shane, suspecting that her new friend might have something of a little crush on him.

  Lauren found it too funny to actually be jealous.

  Lauren returned home too late to cook dinner, but having been prepared for this, she picked up a couple of combos from the Carl’s Jr. drive thru to appease Shane. And, strangely, though she’d been expecting a confrontation, she found him in his best mood yet.

  “Welcome back!” he said with a smile as she entered.

  Lauren waited for a sarcastic comment or condescending question, but neither came. He seemed genuinely happy to see her tonight. “Did you miss me?” she asked, trying to draw out the true man she knew.

  He set the book he’d been reading in his lap and looked up at her. “You know, it was actually way too quiet without you here. I hadn’t realized how used to you I’ve gotten these past few weeks.”

  “So is that a yes, then?” she asked as she walked past him into the kitchen to grab a couple paper plates.

  “It’s an I guess so, which is kind of like a yes,” he answered.

  She plopped one of the burgers and a side of fries onto his plate and handed it over, then sat in the other recliner beside him.

  “How’d you know I was craving Carl’s Jr.?” he asked before taking a huge bite of his sandwich.

  Lauren watched him in silence, waiting for the jab.

  “Thank you,” he enthused between bites.

  “Okay,” she said, rising back to her feet and putting her hands on her hips. “Who are you, and what have you done with old Mr. Grump?”

  He laughed, but continued to eat. “I’m just happy today, I guess.”

  “Happy?”

  He nodded.

  “Happy?”

  “Yes, happy.”

  “That’s a word you know?” she demanded.

  He rolled his deep blue eyes. “What? It’s not like I’m never in a good mood.”

  “Yes, it is. That’s exactly what it’s like.”

  “Point taken.” He laughed and started to munch away at his fries. “I’ll try harder to play nice.”

  Lauren wanted to continue to argue, but she also knew better than to question this divine gift of providence. Maybe she and Shane Ramsey could be friends after all. How about that?

  They chatted about their days as they finished off their meals. All of it was so surprisingly pleasant that Lauren almost had to pinch herself to make sure it was real. Okay, as nice as this was, she had to know why.

  “Shane?” she asked.

  “Hmm?” He looked up at her, truly looked at her, not just through her or past her like usual. She liked how it felt. More and more, she could understand Scarlett’s little crush. Shane was a handsome man when he wasn’t spoiling it with his awful personality.

  This version of Shane was definitely one she could get behind, but was it the real him?

  “I have to know…” she ventured, kicking up the footrest and leaning back in her chair. “What happened today? Why are you in such a good mood?”

  “It’s just a good day,” he said.

  “A good day, okay. Did you win the lottery? Is it your birthday? Something else I should know about?”

  He laughed and set back his chair as well. “Nothing like that. Just a good day and a good book.”

  She looked to his lap and tried to read the cover, but the light reflecting from the overhead fixture obscured it from her prying eye. “Ahh, so that book is making you happy. What kind of book is it?”

  “I already told you, it’s a good book. One of my favorites, actually.”

  “Well, there you go, being difficult again. I knew this couldn’t last. Are you going to tell me about this good, mood-altering book or not?”

  Shane pushed his chair back into its upright position and handed the book over to her. “Are you so sure it’s me who’s the difficult one? It’s not the book that’s making me happy but, here, take a look. You can even read it when I’m done if you want.”

  She accepted the tattered paperback which she suspected had been read more than one time and on more than one good day. The cover was mostly dark and had a black-and-white picture of the author at its center. The Collected Works of Jack London. “Is this the guy who wrote Call of the Wild?” she asked. “I think I read that in high school.”

  “Yup. It’s a—“

  “Good book,” she finished for him. “I know. You’ve mentioned that, nerd.”

  “You’re the one who spent all day in the library,” he pointed out. “Okay, so if you’re too good for Jack London, then what do you like to read?”

  “Oh, almost anything I can get my hands on, but mostly romance.”

  Shane made a fake gagging noise and Lauren threw his precious book back at him. It hit his chest with a thud.

  “Stop that!” she cried. “Romance is awesome and you have no right to make fun of it.”

  “That stuff is for girls, not big, strapping men like me.” He puffed out his chest like a smarmy rooster.

  “First of all, I am a girl, and second of all, that is one-hundred-percent not true. Saying romance is for girls is like saying love is just for girls. That one of the most important human experiences isn’t meant to be experienced by half of humanity. Haven’t you ever been in love?”

  The energy in the room shifted so fast it made Lauren nauseous.

  “Love,” Shane said with a huff. “No one could ever love me.”

  With an attitude like that, you’re not wrong, Lauren thought but didn’t say aloud.

  Lauren had intended to go back to her original schedule with the dogs, but waking up early one day apparently meant she’d need to wake up early every day going forward—or find a way to sleep through two solid hours of happy barking. She’d never needed a lot of sleep to get by, so she chose the former.

  Besides, it was nice being done with her work for the day by noon. This gave her time to work both toward solving her mysteries and to figuring out what she’d do next when Shane recovered fully and no longer needed her services as a handler.

  Sometimes she thought that she might like to settle here in Alaska—not the tiny hamlet of Puffin Ridge, but rather the more vibrant, alive city of Anchorage. Maybe she would get her own team of dogs and become a racer herself. That idea did appeal to her more and more as she became acclimated to this way of life. Still, she had no idea what would come next.

  In fact, the only thing she knew for sure was that there was no going back, not to data corp, and not to the way her life had been before.

  She needed to continue to find a way forward. She was determined to.

  Now that she knew how to get to town and had extra time in her day, she’d also started learning more about cooking. While she didn’t love the process, she loved the result. And whether or not he would say it, Shane did, too.

  Today she’d planned a hearty three-bean soup cooked in the small slow cooker she’d picked up on her last visit to town. When she came in from working the dogs, the cabin already smelled of caramelized onions and stewed carrots, an aroma that made her stomach leap in joyful anticipation.

  Shane was awake and sitting at the table by the window as he normally did this time of day. While he would usually have his tablet with him as he read over the news, today he had company.

  A handsome man with sandy brown hair and a clean-shaven face sat chatting with him over shared mugs of coffee. Something abo
ut him looked familiar, but Lauren couldn’t quite place him.

  The man seemed to know her instantly, though, rising to his feet and offering his hand in greeting the moment she stepped into the kitchen.

  “Lauren, hello! Seems like things are working out great here. I’m so happy you found the SDRO and that we were able to get Shane and his dogs the help they needed. How are you enjoying the new job?” He smiled broadly, waiting for recognition to light in her eyes.

  SDRO? Ahh, the Sled Dog Rescue Organization. So this must be one of the higher ups. The man she’d spoken to on the phone when she’d first called in about the position was a veterinarian, Lolly Winston’s husband. Was this him?

  He caught the confusion in her gaze. “I guess we’ve never met in person, huh? I’m Oscar Rockwell, co-director of the SDRO. I handle the dogs’ care and technical sides of the charity, while my wife Lolly runs our PR.”

  “Of course,” Lauren said warmly. This man was a saint to give so much of his life to helping others, especially to helping animals. “It’s nice to meet you in person.”

  Oscar offered her his chair and went to find a spare for himself, leaving her and Shane alone for a few brief moments.

  “Did you know he was coming today?” she asked.

  Shane shook his head. “No, it’s a surprise check-in. They do it when they place a dog, but I hadn’t realized they’d be checking in on us as well. It seems my reputation precedes me.”

  She raised an eyebrow at him, working hard to hold back the laugh that tickled at her throat. “As a grump, you mean?”

  He nodded and took a sip from his mug. It had a field of large, hand-painted flowers splashed across the side and seemed unlike his usual choices in decor. She wondered if it had been a gift he’d clung to all these years—and if so, who might have given it to him.

  Oscar returned with a chair, bringing his bright energy back to the otherwise dim cabin. “I couldn’t help but overhear,” he said. “I promise I’m only here to see how you’re doing and if there’s any way I or the organization can help. Not to play judge and jury.”