Race Against Time

by kimberly

  “Me? No way!” She giggled. “This is normal. My PB&Js always fall apart and slather my hands in goop. What’s new with you?”

  I glanced at the empty Ziploc bags littering her feet. Peanut butter and jelly stuck to the inside and out. I raised my eyebrows. “How many sandwiches have you eaten?”

  “Only four,” she smiled, “and a half.”

  Mom and Auntie Jenna stood.

  “We’ll be right back, we’re gonna put some of these empty lunchboxes on the sleds.”

  “Okey-dokey.” Andie nodded.

  When they were out of hearing range, she turned to me. “I’m glad you’re okay. What happened?”

  “You mean how’d I get out of the depths of despair?” I swallowed. Play the part . . . I nodded to Mom. “I was at the end of my rope. Then Mom and I talked. In the back of my head I knew it was wrong of me to think what I did, but I couldn’t help it. I guess . . .”

  I stared out toward the trees. A clump of snow fell from one of the limbs. Sunlight shone onto it, making it look like a ball of prisms. “I guess I still think some of those things now.” What? You weren’t supposed to say that! “But it’s okay. I’m good now, everything will get back to normal.” I nodded and kept my gaze on the clump.

  So much for playing the part.

  She would be able to tell something was missing. I could see just by looking at her face that she didn’t believe me.

  “Just know that I’m always here for you, okay?” She reached out and grabbed my hand.

  “Okay.”

  Mom and Auntie walked back over and sat down.

  “We’ll leave these two snack bags where we can get to them, just in case one of you gets hungry, okay?”

  “Thanks. But I don’t think Andie will be eating any more for awhile.” I tried to smile up at them. I’m just tired. Yeah, tired.

  Okay. You believe it, now just try to get them to believe it.

  “I think you’re right. I’ve eaten enough for two people! Ugh.” Andie giggled again and patted her stomach.

  Cole and Sean walked over. “Ready to go?”

  Mom nodded. “Just about. Do one of you want another sandwich?”

  Cole grabbed his stomach and winced. “No thanks. I’m stuffed.”

  “Like an overgrown teddy bear.” Andie licked her fingers.

  “If your hands weren’t covered in sticky stuff—”

  “Oh, come on, Echo, you’re braver than that!” She smiled and held up her gooey fingers.

  “Ah, yes. And don’t you forget it!” He crouched down and tickled her sides, somehow avoiding her still icky hands.

  A loud screech was her reply.

  I closed my eyes. What did it feel like to tease your dad?

  “Sean, another sandwich?” Auntie Jenna held up another delicious snack. “Before the PB&J monster snags them all.”

  “I won’t eat them all!” Andie grabbed Cole’s hands and tried to pry them from her sides. He tickled harder.

  “EEEEK! Stop! Uncle!” Andie laughed and tried to break away from Cole’s grasp.

  “What’s the magic word?”

  “Pleeeeeease?”

  “Nope!”

  Massive arms wrapped around her as he leaned in.

  “Not a zerbert!”

  He smiled.

  Pffbbbttttt!

  My head jerked back over to the two noise makers.

  “Zoya, help me!”

  I gave a small smile. “I’m a little tired, maybe later.”

  Cole looked to me. He searched my eyes. Probing. And very serious.

  I wanted to squirm. Why was he so inquisitive? There was nothing wrong with me. I was fine.

  I looked away.

  “I think you’ve got things under control.” I stood and walked over to the dogs, escaping Cole’s death stare.

  The dogs barked and wagged their tails as I covered the ten feet between us. At least you won’t question me all the time. I focused on the soft feel of their fur coats. Each one had different colors. Each one had a different personality. Each one seemed so excited every time we raced.

  Each one looked up to me with those pathetic eyes and stared. As if asking me . . .

  Not you too. Will I ever get away from all these questions?

  Cole’s and Andie’s laughter rang in the air.

  I blinked. Don’t think about it.

  “Zoya, you wanna take the dogs out for another run?” Mom walked up to my side and smiled.

  I nodded. Good idea . . . yeah. Good.

  “Cole and I will stay here with the food if you guys want to go.” Auntie Jenna smiled and poked Cole’s arm. “Maybe a time-out will teach him a lesson on how to be the adult.”

  “Mom, give it up already. He’s a giant toddler, we all know that.” Andie smiled and stood, getting just out of his reach.

  “Hey!” Cole crossed his large arms. “Sean, are you going along?” Why did he look so stern all of a sudden?

  “Can we go now?” I petted Morphine. Not looking any of them in the eye. Better to just get on the trail.

  Sean nodded to Cole and hopped on his sled.

  Mom gave more instructions.

  My stomach churned. Couldn’t we just go? Each minute seemed to tick by as if it were traveling through molasses. But soon we were off.

  Andie stayed by my side, as we were instructed, with Mom in the back and Sean in the front. We took the long trail. As we picked up speed, my thoughts began to swim.

  Mom said I could race. But was I ready? What if something happened?

  My heart wanted to trust God again. But could I after what He had done?

  No! I would not let Him deceive me again.

  I wanted to tell someone about how I was feeling. But no one would understand. Better to keep it to myself.

  I glanced at Andie. She smiled and encouraged the dogs as we rode on.

  Why was she always so—

  Someone stood in the trees. Almost hidden thanks to his camo outfit.

  I gasped.

  An orange hat that stuck out like a lion among sheep . . .

  My head jerked to the front as we zoomed past. He was real.

  My mouth dried up. I couldn’t scream, but I had to say something. I shivered.

  He had stood there. Staring.

  At us.

  At me.

  * * *

  ANESIA

  January 22

  Naltsiine Kennels

  6:00 a.m.

  Incessant beeping broke through her sleep-clouded mind. Anesia reached over and smacked the snooze button. Sleep had been elusive until around four a.m.

  Now it was six and she didn’t have time to relish the warmth under the covers. A giant yawn caused her to stretch and sit up.

  Race day.

  On an average race day she loved these mornings. The adrenaline pumping through her system. Anticipation for the race. She lived to race. So had Dan. No wonder their daughter had the same race-driven blood running through her veins.

  But today was different.

  Today was scary.

  Uncertain.

  And she had no control.

  Anesia rubbed her eyes with her hands. Why did she have to hold on so tight? She wanted to leave it all in God’s hands and know that Zoya would be safe and protected. She wanted to hand over the reins to Him. She’d made that decision, right?

  But she lived in the real world. And knew there were bad people out there. People who might, even now, be after her daughter.

  Those thoughts scared her the most.

  Anesia stood by the edge of her bed and shivered.

  Her conversation with Zoya came zinging back to her:

  “But God doesn’t give us a spirit of fear, remember?”

  “I remember . . . ‘For God has not given us a spirit of fearfulness, but one of power, love, and sound judgment’ . . .”

  It was all fine and good to lecture her daughter to bring her out of her shell, but now here she stood quaking, shivering. And her own
words convicted her. She dropped to her knees, her muffled cries of anguish buried in her arms. God, I need Your power. Please take away this fear. Protect my baby.

  “Mom?” Zoya bounced into the room. “You’re usually the one having to drag my rear end out of bed . . .” She walked around the bed. “Mom, you okay?”

  Deep breath. Gotta be honest, but don’t scare her. “I’m okay. Didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”

  Zoya quieted. “Because you’re excited or because you’re scared?”

  Smart kid. Anesia hated bursting her bubble. She pulled her thirteen-year-old into a hug. “You know me too well. Yes, I was scared. But I heard your voice quoting 2 Timothy 1:7 this morning and I’ve prayed. So it’s time to pick myself up by my bootstraps and get moving.”

  “That’s my mom.” Zoya squeezed tighter.

  “That’s my girl.”

  “Well, since I’m ready before you, I’ll fix your coffee. Just the way you like it.”

  “Sounds great, sweetie. Sorry I’m dragging my feet today.” She reached for her long underwear. “I better get out there.”

  “Sean’s gotcha covered. He’s been out there with the dogs for a good fifteen minutes.”

  “Really?” Where were those thermal socks?

  “Yep.” Zoya giggled and threw the socks at her. “You know, Andie and I thought he was pretty weird at first. So prim and proper all the time. But he’s actually pretty cool. I think he likes it.”

  “Yeah, he does fit in well, doesn’t he?” For some reason, the thought warmed her.

  “And he’s nice. He listens. Doesn’t treat me like a snotty teenager. Like he respects my opinion and who I am.”

  Anesia walked back to her daughter and smiled. “That’s because you’re not a snotty teenager. If you were, I’d invent a device to suck all the snot out. Who wouldn’t love you?”

  Zoya rolled her eyes. “You’re such a mom, Mom.”

  “And proud of it.” She patted Zoya on the head. “Now I need that coffee.”

  “But don’t you think he’s nice?”

  “Of course I think he’s nice, I hired him, didn’t I?”

  “But isn’t he around your age?” Zoya bounced on the balls of her feet, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

  “All right, my little rainbow. That’s enough for now.” She began to shove Zoya out of the room. “Yes. He’s nice. Yes. He’s around my age. And might I remind you that yes, he works for me.”

  “Okay, okay. I’ll leave it alone. For now. But—”

  “No buts. I need coffee. Or I’ll turn into the Wicked Witch of the West.”

  Zoya scooted out giggling just as Anesia shut the door. Leaning against it, she wondered if her daughter needed a man in her life. Part of it had to be because of Cole and Jenna.

  Jenna’s first husband, Marcus, had been the only father figure Zoya’d ever known. As best friends with Jenna and Andie, Anesia and Zoya had spent all their time with the Tikaani-Gray family. But when Marcus was killed, it affected them all in different ways. Zoya grieved Marcus’s death as if he were her father as well and not just the dad of her best friend.

  Then Cole entered their lives. Jenna and Andie were happier now than the Naltsiine girls had seen them since Marc’s death. Maybe that was it. Did Zoya think they could have a fresh start as well if Anesia found a husband?

  Anesia moved toward her bathroom to get ready. She couldn’t blame her daughter. After watching the overwhelming happiness enter Andie’s and Jenna’s lives with Cole, Anesia thought for a brief moment that maybe there was a little more to the whole married thing. Like maybe she should give it a little more consideration. But no. She had her daughter. Protecting her had to be the top priority. She had Jenna and Andie. She had her dogs. That was plenty. She made too many mistakes when it came to men.

  A quick shower, packing of gear, and two cups of coffee later, Anesia found herself outside the truck loading the dogs with Sean at her side. His aftershave was unlike anything she’d ever smelled before. A little high-class mixed with a lot of masculine. Wow. Or maybe it was the guy wearing it.

  No. No. No. Must be the thoughts planted by her instigating little offspring.

  She would not go there. Even if he was incredibly good-looking. With that crazy blond hair, and those green eyes that she could get lost in. Especially when he was learning something new. The yearning, the intensity, he was so . . . real.

  Whoa, girl. Get a grip. “Not gonna happen.”

  “What’s not going to happen?”

  Blood rushed to her face. “Did I say that out loud?”

  Sean chuckled. “Are you always this driven, this focused on a race day?”

  Maybe she had been attacking the chores this morning with a little more vigor than usual. If he only knew. “Sorry, Sean. I guess I just have a lot on my mind.”

  “I know. I prayed for you guys this morning. And especially you.”

  “Really?” Why did her voice have to go and squeak like a schoolgirl’s?

  “Yes, I did. I know this must be very trying for you. To allow her to race with everything that has happened. For you to race.”

  The words were innocent. His sincerity rang true. She could tell. But it didn’t stop her heart from melting into a puddle at her feet. What was wrong with her? “Thank you, Sean. That means a lot.”

  He shrugged, giving her that now familiar smile—the one that made her insides tingle all the way down to her toes—and checked all the doors on the truck.

  The man learned fast. She’d have to give him that. And she’d made him jump in with both feet. Not many people could’ve stood up to the challenge, but so far she’d been nothing but impressed with Sean Connolly.

  Anesia straightened. And allowed herself to smile. Zoya was correct. Sean was a nice man.

  But there just wasn’t time for romance. She didn’t think her heart could ever take it again.

  Ever.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  SEAN

  January 22

  9:00 a.m.

  The morning flew by, but he didn’t mind. Time spent with Anesia Naltsiine increased in value daily. And the dogs. Loved working with the dogs. For the first time in many years, he had purpose. Honest work. Honest pay. A man. His own man. The scare from their picnic excursion turned out to be nothing, but Sean noticed Cole’s ever-watchful gaze. And Cole called him several times. Asking him questions, telling him to keep his eyes open.

  As they jostled along in the dog truck, he snuck another glimpse at Anesia. Her native features were elegant. The shine on her hair reminded him of black silk, like his mother’s favorite scarf.

  Sean pushed the memory of his mother away. All the if-onlys couldn’t erase the fact that the last time he’d seen her they’d argued.

  Focus on Anesia. She was here. Now.

  Even bundled up in her gear, she was breathtaking.

  Zoya poked him.

  He’d been caught. Again.

  There hadn’t been a lot of conversation between him and this tiny teen, but every so often he got glimpses of her depth. She had great ideas. Loved racing. And loved her mom. Sean hadn’t known many teenagers since he’d been one. But he’d heard horror stories from fellows at work. Thank goodness Anesia’s daughter wasn’t anything like that.

  They shared a conspiratorial wink and he nudged her with his elbow. It felt good to be a part of something bigger than himself. Part of a group of people . . . friends that cared about one another.

  Like a family.

  The thought struck him an intense blow. Exactly like a family should be. The old memories tried to surface. Could he be a part of this family?

  “Sean?” Zoya’s dark eyes peered up at him.

  “Yes?”

  “So what do you think of us so far? Are you liking it?”

  “I love it. Never knew I could love work so much.”

  “Even poop-scooping?” Zoya stuck out her tongue. “Blech. That’s the part I hate the most.”

  “Eve
n poop-scooping.”

  Anesia laughed but her eyes remained glued to the road as she shifted gears.

  “Wow. You really must’ve been desperate.”

  “Zoya!” Anesia looked at him then, shock and mirth twinkled from her eyes. Her lips pursed and twitched. An unsuccessful frown turned into a smile as a laugh escaped from her lips. “Sorry, Sean.”

  “Well, you know what, Zoya? I think you’re right. I was desperate. Desperate to do what’s right. Finally.”

  The teen crossed her arms and angled toward him. Eyebrows raised. “Scooping poop is ‘right’?”

  “You bet. If that’s what God wants you to do.”

  “All righty then. It’s official. You are weird.”

  “A good weird, I hope.” He nudged her again.

  “Anyone who enjoys cleaning up the kennel must be out of their mind. But more power to ya, Sean.” She elbowed him back with a grin.

  “So. Tell me about this race today.”

  Her face lit up as she talked about the race, which dogs she was running, and the thrill she felt each time her sled flew over the snow. Sean enjoyed watching her animation. Zoya came out of her shell when it was time to race. It seemed to be the only time he had the opportunity to see the real kid.

  Of course, it didn’t hurt that he caught a glimpse of Anesia every now and then as well.

  It was obvious, mother and daughter were in love with the sport. And he would do everything in his power to keep those smiles on their beautiful faces.

  Permanently.

  * * *

  ANESIA

  January 22

  Fairbanks, Alaska

  10:00 a.m.

  Anesia pulled more gear out of her truck, hinting to the other musher to move on. But no such luck today.

  “So, you running the Rondy this year?” The man gripped his travel mug with both hands.

  She shook her head and kept working with the harnesses.

  “Of course, you are. That was a dumb question. You’ve won it the past few years, haven’t you?” His nervous chuckle hovered in the air.

  “Yep.” Why wouldn’t he just leave? Every race, the man made a beeline for her. To make stupid conversation. She had no idea why he even entered any of the races, he was always dead last.