by K. A. Tucker
I grip my steering wheel and consider my options. The driveway is a mile long. It’ll take me at least ten minutes to jog it—likely more, with stops. That, plus the twenty-minute drive here, speeding along the dirt roads, and if I have to take her to the clinic to operate …
I could still call him and have him come out …
But all I can think about is Reed’s shaky voice as he described the lodged puppy and how helpless he sounded, and how Tyler might react to one of his lead dogs—one of Mila’s dogs—dying during labor if complications persist.
I throw my truck in Reverse and back down the road, and then, giving myself all of two seconds to reconsider, I jam my foot against the gas and grit my teeth.
The hinges on the aluminum farm gate snap on impact, the pieces flying out of the way. I speed down the driveway, hoping I’m not already too late.
* * *
Nala licks my fingertips and then dismisses me to lie on the fresh towels as five puppies burrow into her underbelly. The body of the sixth puppy—the first to be born and the one that got lodged sideways in the birth canal, prompting Reed to call me in a panic as Nala’s struggle dragged on—is wrapped in a towel and set in a box until Tyler comes home and decides where he’d like to bury him.
It always pangs my heart to hold a lifeless creature in my palm, but all things considered, I’m content to sit in this little room in the barn, listening to the rain pelt the roof while I steep in my relief.
“That never happened with the other dogs.” Reed sits across from me, his face grim, his arms tucked around his body. This experience has rattled him.
“You’ve seen a lot of puppies born?” Tyler mentioned Reed’s parents—Mila’s father and stepmother—being avid mushers themselves.
“Fair amount. They always just came out.”
“I’m sure the dogs giving birth didn’t think it was so easy. But you were right to call me.” I reach out and gently scratch Nala’s head again. She doesn’t so much as twitch at my invasion of her space. “She’ll be fine.” Aside from the first pup, the others delivered without issue.
“You don’t have to stay. I mean, I know you’re busy with people and animals and stuff,” he stammers. “I just mean, if you have to go, it’s okay. I’m good now. I can take care of them from here.”
“I know you can.” I sense that Reed takes great pride in his responsibility for these dogs while Tyler is away. And Jed Carling is expecting me. But Cory’s already warned him I’ll be a few hours late. “Tyler’s almost back, though, right? I might as well wait a bit longer.” I mock cringe. “How mad do you think he’ll be about the whole gate thing?”
Reed frowns, as if seriously considering this question. “He can replace the gate. He can’t replace Nala,” he says with a degree of finality that makes me smile.
“You’re right.” And if I know Tyler like I think I do, he won’t value anything above these dogs.
“He should be home any minute.” Reed checks his watch and brushes a hand through his mop of curly dark hair to sweep it away from his eyes. It’s gotten long in the last few weeks and could use a cut. If I could get him to my place, I’ll bet Vicki would love to take her scissors to it.
Reed’s cheeks flush, and I realize I’m staring at the poor kid.
“Tyler told me this was your sister’s team?”
He nods toward the exhausted new mother. “She was Mila’s favorite. Her and Tank.”
“Did you get to see Mila a lot, growing up?” How well did they know each other, living on different sides of the world, years apart, sharing nothing more than a father?
“Not a lot, no.” Reed smiles then, and it’s such a boyish, genuine grin, with a hint of a dimple in his left cheek. “She used to call me all the time, though. And I went to Finland to visit her once. Tero and Anja invited me. That was a good time.” The words tumble from him now, that veil of timidity that normally holds him back lifting. But the smile slips away as easily as it came, replaced by a pensive look.
“I’ll bet you miss her. I can’t imagine losing either of my sisters like that.” No matter how big a thorn in my side Liz may be, her absence would leave a gaping hole ten times larger, filling up with regret for all the ways we should have been better to each other.
He bobs his head, the move sending his hair falling into his eyes again. He pushes it away.
“Tyler told me you want a team to mush? Maybe these pups will end up on your team.”
“Yeah, maybe.” His lips purse, as if weighing the possibilities.
Ten minutes later, a truck door slams outside the barn, and a chorus of dogs howl in greeting. Footfalls approach in a rush.
My blood pulses in my ears just at the anticipation of seeing Tyler again.
The door creaks open, and he pokes his head in cautiously. His eyes go first to Nala and then to the suckling puppies, and then to me, on the floor, my legs stretched out, my rain boots crossed at the ankles. He’s still in uniform, though missing the vest. His pant legs are soaked from the rain. An odd mix of relief and panic fills his face.
“Where’s Reed?” he asks as he pushes the door farther open until it bumps into Reed’s leg, matching my position but against the other wall. “There you are.” He studies his brother-in-law’s face a moment, and they seem to share unspoken words before he asks, “You good?”
Reed hesitates but then nods.
Nala hears Tyler’s voice, and her tail swishes in greeting.
“Hey, girl.” He eases in and shuts the door behind him, then settles between me and her.
I shift over to give him room, but there isn’t much to give, and we end up sitting side by side, our shoulders pressed against each other.
“You did good,” he murmurs.
She rests her cheek on his palm and watches him through tired eyes.
With a heavy sigh, he leans back against the wall beside me. “I was out looking for a lost hiker all day. I didn’t get any of your messages until I drove to a signal spot.”
“Did you find her? The hiker?” Reed asks.
“Yeah. She got chased off a trail by a bear and couldn’t find her way back, but she’s fine.”
Reed hoists himself up. “I’m gonna go check on everyone else.” He stalls at the door as he brushes his hair aside. “See you around, Marie.”
“Soon enough, I’m sure.” I smile at his retreating back until the door is shut tight, keeping the damp air out.
But Tyler’s not smiling. “We knew when I left this morning that she was going to have them. I was going to call in sick, but Reed said he could manage it. I shouldn’t have left him here alone like that. I’m an idiot.” His jaw is taut with tension.
“He did manage it. He called me, which is exactly what he should have done.” I’m not going to point out how panicked Reed sounded on the phone. “It’s what you would have had to do even if you’d been here.”
“Yeah, I guess. Still, I should’ve been there. He shouldn’t have had to do that alone.” He studies the small room we’re in. “I’m starting to feel guilty about him being by himself like this all summer. It can’t be good for him.”
“It’s only until you’re off for the season. And then you’ll be together for, what, seven months straight?” Minus the two weeks Tyler’s running the Iditarod. As I study the man’s handsome profile, I’m suddenly envious of a twenty-year-old boy.
“He’ll be sick of me by the end.” Tyler smirks. “I was thinking of hiring another handler. Give Reed a chance to make a friend or two. Maybe there’s an eager kid who wants to earn some extra cash.”
“I’ll keep an ear out for someone like that.” From the other side of the door, I hear a snuffling and then a soft whine.
“It’s Tank,” Tyler says. “He doesn’t like being away from Nala for too long. But he can stay out there. He’s already caused enough trouble.” Tyler watches the puppies for a moment before his head falls back against the barn wall, angling toward me. “Thank you.”
“Of cou
rse. It’s what I’m here for, right?” Under the dim lights, amplified by a glow from the heat lamp, Tyler’s features are somehow more alluring. I admire the shape of his lips and the cut of his jaw, the way his dark ash-brown hair rests in a slight wave.
He watches me studying him, and the sudden vulnerability in his expression brings me back to those stolen, intimate moments in my truck at the Ale House. Will that ever happen again? For a guy who doesn’t want to complicate his life, he has quite the track record of unintentional kissing.
And for a thirty-eight-year-old woman who doesn’t want to get hung up on false hope again, I seem to keep wading in deeper.
“What’s that look for?” he asks, his head tipped at just the perfect angle to lean in and kiss me.
I have to turn away before he reads my thoughts. Thoughts that don’t fit the label of friendship or business under any circumstance. “I should get going. I was supposed to be at Jed Carling’s place hours ago.”
“By the way, I’d say you’ve topped your first visit here with your entrance.”
I struggle to keep from smiling.
“Did you hesitate at all or just plow right through?” There’s a playfulness in his voice that confirms he’s not angry.
“I did stop.” I meet his gaze again, marveling at the golden flecks in his irises. We’re sitting shoulder to shoulder. He’s so close.
His left eyebrow arches with amusement. “You did?”
“Yeah. And then I reversed so I could take a good run at it.”
His chuckle is deep and contagious, and I feel it dance along my spine as I laugh alongside him. “I’m trying to picture that, and I can’t—no, wait. Actually, I can. You were probably biting the side of your bottom lip like you do when you’re determined to get your way.”
“I do not do that.”
His laughter only grows. “Yeah, okay.”
Despite my best efforts, my eyes drift to his mouth. “I didn’t have a choice. I didn’t know how bad it might be, and I couldn’t let something happen to her. I know how much that would hurt you.”
“So you raced over here and crashed through my gate to protect me—is that what you’re saying?”
And suddenly neither of us are laughing anymore as his words seem to pluck the humor from the air.
Tyler falters, then leans in to press his lips against mine. A shaky sigh escapes him, as if he’s been holding his breath until now.
There’s no excuse for it this time—no sleepy confusion, no ruse to avoid a confrontation. Tyler is kissing me because he’s chosen to, and realizing that drives me forward, leaning into him, teasing him with the tip of my tongue. He responds in kind, the taste of mint taunting my taste buds as we explore each other’s mouths, his cradling hand leaving Nala to curl around the back of my head, pulling my face in closer.
“Hey, Ty?”
Tyler breaks away with lightning speed.
Reed stands in the doorway. I didn’t hear the door creak. “You left the windows open in the truck.” He studies his boots. “The seat’s getting wet.”
A few beats pass before a curse slips out under Tyler’s breath. He fishes his keys out of his pocket. “I’ll go out and close it.” He pulls himself off the barn floor. “You have all your things, Marie?”
I tap the open black leather bag with my foot. “Almost.” I don’t trust my voice with more than that.
“Okay. I’ll meet you outside.” His gaze passes over mine, and the heat and playfulness I saw only moments ago is now shuttered. He ducks out, pulling the door shut behind him.
Leaving me reeling in a swirl of confusion and regret.
I shouldn’t have let that happen. Despite my resistance, we have become friends, and he’s already told me—twice—that it won’t go further than that.
And yet, he just kissed me.
I do one final check on Nala, sterilize my stethoscope and thermometer, and pack up the portable ultrasound I brought with me. Finished here, my boots splash through puddles as I trudge toward my truck. Aside from a few scratches on the hood, I don’t see much in the way of damage from plowing through the gate, the grille guard doing its job. But my truck is the furthest thing from my thoughts.
Reed was still in the barn when I left, grooming one of the dogs while several others lounged in the straw. He was quiet—but he always is. Still, I felt him watching me as I strolled away. What’s going on in that head of his? Does it bother him to see Tyler kissing another woman? Does he think it’s too soon?
Is two years too soon?
By Tyler’s reaction in the barn, what Reed thinks matters. But that’s not a surprise. Reed is Mila’s brother—a piece of his late wife—and Tyler is still living for her. I can’t allow myself to get caught up in a heady swirl of hormones and emotions and forget that.
And still, as these thoughts solidify in my mind, I refuse to dismiss the feeling that this isn’t just friendship for Tyler, either, despite his earlier words.
Tyler’s head is bowed against the rain as he marches toward me from the house, his uniform replaced by sweatpants and a pullover that’ll be soaked soon. He reaches my truck just as I’m starting the engine. I open my window, my stomach a knot of anxiety and anticipation. “I can come by on Monday to check on her if you want.”
“That’d be great. Cory’ll send me the bill for today?”
So smoothly we’ve switched to business. “Yeah. Let me know what I owe for the gate—”
“Nothing. You don’t owe me anything for that.” He scowls as if my offer is preposterous. “You did what you had to do to get here to help Reed, and I appreciate it.”
An awkward silence lingers as he rests his forearms on my door, keeping me there, as he peers over his shoulder toward the barn. “You know what’s freaky? They have the exact same big, brown eyes. Sometimes, for like a split second, it feels like Mila’s watching me.” He turns back on a deep inhale. “I got caught up in the moment, and I didn’t think.” He shifts his stance, leans in a little more, his head resting against the door frame, his voice softening as he says, “It’s just that, when I’m with you, I forget about everything else. You make me feel like myself again.” He studies my mouth like he wants to kiss me again.
And I would allow it, I silently accept, watching raindrops cling to the ends of his hair. “You’re getting soaked. You should get in my truck so we can talk.”
His crooked smile is roguish. “If I get in your truck, you and I both know we won’t be talking.”
Blood rushes to my ears as I hear the promise in those words and weigh their truth. He’s right, and we both know it, and I won’t bother denying it.
Tank comes trotting out of the barn, his head on a swivel as if searching for Tyler. Seeing him, he barks and speeds up. Nymeria follows closely.
“Look at that. They’re coming to keep me in line.” With a pat against my door, Tyler takes a wide step back. “You should get to that appointment. I don’t want you to lose anyone else on my account.”
“Jed’s not going anywhere.” He’s one of the most easygoing men I’ve ever met, an Iditarod musher who’s happy just to cross the finish line, no matter which place. He’s earned himself two Red Lanterns over the years—the award that goes to the last musher to pass under the Burled Arch.
Tank reaches Tyler, and rather than stopping at his side, he leaps into the air, his paws landing on Tyler’s shoulders. Tyler was ready for the move and holds the amorous husky against his body.
Reed pokes his head out the barn door and upon seeing me still in the driveway, ducks back in.
A thought strikes me. “Hey, if you’re serious about hiring help, I might know of someone. Her name’s Mabel. She doesn’t have any kennel experience, but she loves dogs.” She’s fascinated by Roy’s wolf dogs when they come lurking around. “She’s fourteen, so she shouldn’t be too intimidating for Reed. And I’m guessing she’ll do anything to avoid working for Muriel.”
Tyler grunts with understanding as he releases Tank to the
ground. “Let me know.”
“I will. I’ll see you on Monday.” I ease down the driveway in my truck, my attention constantly flipping to my rearview mirror as my mind hangs tightly on to his words and the feel of his lips.
Is it possible? Could Tyler finally be looking toward the future, instead of lingering in his past?
Or am I just a child toying with a lighter in a room full of kindling?
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“Dad, not so much! She just had those tubes put in!” Vicki scolds as our father bounces Molly on his good leg.
“It’s been a week. She’s fine. But are you sure they gave you the right kid back? This one’s way more fun. Aren’t you, Milly Molly?” He caps it off with a silly singsong voice that has her screeching with delight.
I smile as I set plates out for Sunday dinner. He’s not wrong. Whether it’s the ear tubes or the move here, or that she’s finally settling into life, it’s like a switch has flipped in that child.
“Were you expecting someone, Marie?” Mom’s focus is out the kitchen window.
“I wasn’t, but maybe someone is hoping I’m open?”
“I don’t think it’s for the clinic.”
My heart skips a few beats as I spot the familiar green truck parked next to mine and the figure standing inside my porch. I’m driving out to Tyler’s kennel tomorrow evening after his shift, an appointment I’ve been looking forward to all weekend. Maybe something has happened with Nala or the puppies. But he would’ve called, and my phone has been with me all afternoon.
“I better go see what that’s about.” Setting the rest of the dishes aside, I promise, “I’ll be back in a minute.” I rush for my boots and the door, yanking my hair free from the topknot I threw it into while preparing the potatoes.