Sleigh Ride to Love

by Rosemary J. Anderson

  Holly felt her rage melting at his onslaught. It felt good to be kissed, and to be in a man’s arms again, his arms. Opening her mouth as the invasion of his tongue continued, she sighed in blissful contentment. This was where she was supposed to be, where she wanted to be and where she needed to be, but it wasn’t real! He was kissing her to control her, to shut her up and to persuade her to do as he wanted, and she was having none of it. Opening her eyes Holly started to struggle, wriggling against the strength of his arms and thumping ineffectively at his back. Dragging her mouth from his, she glared at him, infuriated by his, oh so smug smile.

  “Get off me, you beast!” She hissed, struggling all the more, and then unexpectedly falling on her backside in the snow when he abruptly let her go.

  Laughing, he held his hands up in mock surrender.

  “Okay, Holly, take it easy.”

  Scrambling inelegantly to her feet she shot him a look of pure dislike and, turning abruptly away, continued to tend to her team, feeling his gaze boring into her back.

  The dogs fed, she changed their bootees, the other ones were worn through. Busying herself with her pack, intent on finding a quick snack, she could still feel Zachariah’s eyes on her. Finally, unable to bear the silence any longer she swung around to face him.

  “What?”

  “You know what, Holly. You know as well as me that even the more experienced mushers travel through the next stage with a companion, it’s common sense. Your father always did, in fact most races he and I travelled through this spot together. So stop being so pigheaded, and think, if not of yourself, of your team.”

  Taking a deep breath and knowing that he was right, Holly grudgingly nodded her head.

  “Oh, very well, if you feel the need to have your hand held, Zachariah, then who am I to disappoint you?”

  Laughing at her resentful about-turn, Zachariah turned to his dogs. The sun had risen and they had a good few hours of daylight to make it to Nikolai.

  Chapter Eight

  Seventy-five miles with Zachariah for company. Holly closed her eyes wondering how on earth she would be able to bear it. She sighed, exasperated with her lack of gumption. Well, so be it, she’d have to grin and bear it! It wasn’t as if he was travelling on the same sled or that they were even side by side. At her insistence he was travelling behind her, following at a short distance so she didn’t have to speak to him or look at him but, still he was there, an ominous presence that made her feel insignificant and self-conscious.

  The going was slow. An ice-covered river didn’t make for a relaxing ride. Visibility was poor and the wind was blowing with gusts of about forty miles an hour and it was icy. Thankful of the goggles and scarf that protected her face, Holly squinted trying to ascertain what was exactly in front of her. The ground was treacherous, driftwood was strewn across the ice and in some parts there were bore spots, holes in the ice that made the going worse. Absently she wondered how Zachariah was faring. He was far more experienced than her and had traversed this route on many occasions over the years, so was he finding it just as difficult? Or, was this trip just a walk in the park to him? Her sled slipping on the ice abruptly brought her thoughts back to the trail. She should have let Zachariah take the lead. Cursing silently as fear rose its ugly head she gripped the brake and put one foot on the ground attempting to keep control as the sled slipped again. Nervous tension fluttered uncomfortably in her stomach and dried her mouth. It was no good, she couldn’t stand it any longer!

  “Whoa!” She drew her team to a halt.

  “What’s up, Holly?” Zachariah, bringing his sled up alongside, climbed off the runners and strolled over to her, taking the time to pat the dogs as he passed.

  “Nothing, it’s just time we took a break, my dogs need it and so do I.”

  Nodding, Zachariah pulled off his goggles and resisted the urge to point out that they had only been travelling for about an hour.

  “Good idea, I don’t know about you but I could certainly do with a hot drink?” He raised an enquiring eyebrow.

  “Err, yes okay, if you need one, I’ll certainly join you.”

  Smiling wryly, Zachariah poured some precious fresh water into a pan and set it over an alcohol stove to boil, leaving Holly to feed the dogs some high-protein biscuits.

  Spooning granules of coffee into two mugs, Zachariah then set two fold-up camping stools opposite each other.

  “Coffee’s up.”

  Accepting a mug of the strong, hot beverage Holly gingerly sat on the miniscule stool absently wondering how the other seat bore Zachariah’s more substantial weight.

  Stretching out his legs in front of him and looking perfectly at ease, Zachariah crossed his ankles.

  “Tell you what, Holly, how about I take lead for the next stretch? After all…” He continued quickly as she was about to interrupt. “After all, you’ve done more than your fair share of taking the brunt of the weather since we left Rohn, and over some pretty precarious territory at that.”

  Staring hard at him, trying to ascertain whether he was being sarcastic or just thoughtful, she decided that perhaps on this occasion he was genuine, and gave a thankful sigh of relief. The going had been hard, much harder than she had ever imagined and already she was worn out. She had pouted and insisted on taking the lead when they left Rohn. Childishly she supposed but she had to prove, she knew not what. However, she was now secretly thankful Zachariah would be in front from here on in. The whole competition up to now had been far more difficult than her two years training had prepared her for, and on more than one occasion since they started the journey she had wanted to quit. However, the thought of Zachariah’s gloating face egged her on, forced her to keep going, for there was no way she was going to prove him right. No way in hell!

  Pretending to give his offer some thought she stayed momentarily silent, and then with a small bow of her head gave in gracefully. “Okay, perhaps it would be for the best. You know, take it in turns and all that.”

  With a small smile playing around his lips, Zachariah quickly finished his drink and, throwing the dark dregs onto the pure, white snow, packed up his stool.

  “We’ve been here thirty minutes, Holly, so if you’re finished then I think it’s perhaps time we were moving.”

  Gulping her coffee, she grimaced at his decision. He was bossing her already and she wondered whether she had been wise in conceding the lead so readily. Reluctantly following Zachariah’s example she began packing up, although it was with some trepidation she got back on the runners. Waiting for Zachariah to take point she gave him a few minutes’ head start, and then, with the dogs barking excitedly, cautiously began to follow.

  * * * *

  The following three hours were hellishly difficult for Holly. The wind was relentless and it had begun to snow, thick flakes that covered everything in sight and reduced visibility so much that she had to struggle even to see Zachariah who was travelling just ahead of her team.

  Hearing Zachariah’s shout above the relentless howl of the wind, she leaned heavily on the brake and called her dogs to a halt.

  Waiting for him to join her, and in order to reduce the searing impact of the wind, she bent low over the handlebar of the sled. The dogs shifted restlessly, barking and howling in anticipation of a feed.

  “Holly!” Zachariah had to shout to make himself heard.

  “From here on in, at least for the next few miles I think we should lead our team, it’s too difficult to retain control in this storm.”

  Nodding, Holly got down from her runners and followed Zachariah to the head of the team.

  Grabbing the neck line between the double lead, the two leading dogs, she waited for Zachariah to give the signal to move. Seconds passed and it was with her heart in her mouth that Holly watched Zachariah’s sled inch forward. Taking a sustaining breath and keeping her eyes trained on the ground ahead, she gave a jerk of the line and the dogs began to move, slow inch by slow inch.

  Every step was a lesson in res
traint. The dogs proved their worth, their training and obedience invaluable. Alternating between keeping Zachariah’s sled in view and watching the ground in front of her, Holly felt the burden of maintaining such tight control. Anxiety sat heavily on her shoulders and she felt tense with fear, a tension she unwittingly conveyed to her dogs. Becoming skittish, the huskies began to act up, pulling at the retraining line, and dancing about to the accompaniment of high-pitched yelps. Her legs ached from the strain of remaining on her feet and her gloved hands were painful and stiff with the effort of keeping the lead dogs under control.

  Suddenly she slipped. Her feet sliding from under her, she fell heavily. Wincing as the breath was knocked out of her, she held steadfast onto the line, crying out in painful shock at the agonizing wrench her shoulder suffered. Minutes later a large gloved hand closed reassuringly over hers. At Zachariah’s insistence she released the line to his capable handling.

  It was only seconds before Zachariah gained full command of her dogs and with each excruciating second that passed she heard each and every heavy beat of her heart.

  Control regained. The dogs’ lines were staked down, then the snub line was tied to a tree making the sled secure. The safety tasks completed for both teams Zachariah then turned his attention to her.

  Crying out as Zachariah eased her arm out of her coat, Holly bit hard on her lip to suppress the desire to sob uncontrollably.

  “Dislocated shoulder,” Zachariah pronounced, with very little sympathy she thought.

  Squatting in front of her, he stared intently into her eyes.

  “Did you hit your head at all, Holly?”

  Receiving a negative shake of her head, Zachariah continued looking at her for a few seconds more, his gaze intensely scrutinizing.

  “In that case I’ll set up the tent and get a fire going, we’re going nowhere for the next few hours.”

  “But what about me?” Holly asked when what she really wanted to do was holler and scream in agony.

  “What about you?”

  “Well, what about my shoulder?”

  “Your shoulder’s not a matter of life or death, Holly, and as you need to take your coat and most of your top clothing off so I can deal with it, shelter out of this blizzard, and heat is our top priority. So just bear with me, mmm?”

  Holly rested back against the tree. She was in agony, but she had no choice but to bear with him. Observing as Zachariah fed the dogs their high-protein food and placed handfuls of bedding straw beside each one, she, even though she wanted to cry with the pain, couldn’t help but admire each and every efficient movement. Eventually, with the animals settled, it was then, and only then that he turned his attention to her.

  Chapter Nine

  The tent was erect, the fire burning brightly and a pan of water boiling. Holly had shed an outer layer of clothing and was sitting back on the sleeping bag clad in her long thermal underwear and padded trousers. Zachariah had washed his hands and offered her a swig of brandy for medicinal purposes. Holly, looking at Zachariah’s medical kit, was impressed by his professionalism. He seemed to have everything but the kitchen sink. Her kit was simple, containing only the very basics, plasters, aspirin, the odd bandage and antiseptic.

  “Take another drink, Holly.”

  “No, I don’t like it. It burns my throat and tastes absolutely vile.”

  “So it might but this is all I can offer you at the moment. Unfortunately, I only carry enough morphine for a one-time fix, and I’m keeping that in case of a severe injury which yours isn’t. Therefore I suggest you take a big swig, it’ll reduce some of the pain.”

  “Pain! How much more pain is there going to be?”

  “Just a bit and it’ll be over so quickly you’ll hardly notice it at all, but just to be sure I’d take that drink if I was you.” He offered the bottle, and she looked the other way.

  “No? Well, on your own head be it.”

  Quickly snatching the bottle out of his hands, Holly sent him a belligerent look and took a large gulp, coughing and spluttering as the fiery liquid burnt her throat and went down the wrong way.

  Patting Holly on the back Zachariah waited for her to catch her breath.

  “Better?”

  In a fit of bravado, her eyes locked with his, and lifting the bottle she took another large gulp.

  Taking the brandy out of her hands, Zachariah smiled wryly. “Enough of that I think.”

  Attempting to grab it back Holly accidently caught Zachariah across the face, leaving a large scratch on his cheek. Momentarily she stilled, then falling back on the bed, began laughing gaily.

  “Mmm, seems to me, you’ve had a bit too much pain relief, however, it’s now or never.”

  Taking hold of her arm in one hand and her shoulder in the other, Zachariah quickly and competently maneuvered the shoulder back into the socket.

  “Ow!” The hysterical laughter stopped as Holly screamed. “That hurt, you beast!” she cried, beginning to sob.

  Placing her arm in a sling he ignored her high-pitched whining and loud sobbing and examined her neck and collarbones for further injury. Finding none he eased her down on the bed.

  In a drunken haze Holly sniffed and snuffled into the quilt, everything hurt but above and beyond that she felt vaguely annoyed with Zachariah for something, but she was not sure what. Minutes later she was asleep, her mouth slightly open and snoring softly. Zachariah rubbed his hand across his face, smiling ironically. She was certainly a handful, this woman of his. He stilled, his mind momentarily a blank. Is that how he really thought of her—his woman?

  Staring into space he relived all the moments he’d spent with her. The time they’d made love, the arguments, the quiet times beside the fire in the lodge, the flirtatious moments, moments when because of her he’d felt the heavy burden of grief lift, if only for a short time. Yes, Holly was his woman, he now realized he’d felt that for a long time, felt that possessiveness toward her, felt protective, felt—love. Somehow, finally admitting to his feelings, if only to himself, he felt liberated, as if a heavy weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Holly had got under his skin and she was the only woman he’d felt anything but friendship for since the tragic death of his wife, and he wasn’t sure how to handle it. It had been so long since he’d actually had to court a woman. He grimaced at the old-fashioned word. Court, did men still do that these days?

  * * * *

  Stirring restlessly Holly came awake as the ache in her shoulder turned to a fiery throb. Struggling awkwardly into a sitting position she pushed her unruly hair off her brow, grimacing at the thick heaviness of it. It seemed ages since she had washed her hair and felt really clean. What she wouldn’t give for some hot water. Looking to the other bed she noticed that Zachariah was still asleep.

  “What’s up, Holly?”

  She jumped. Well, she had thought him to be asleep.

  “Nothing, just my shoulder, it’s throbbing a bit. Anyway, I was just wondering what time it was?”

  “It’s late, you’ve slept for hours.”

  “Oh! Mmm, well I’m sorry if I’ve held you up.”

  “You have, but don’t sweat it, honey. I’ll give you a painkiller, then how about something to eat? I’ve a nice tasty macaroni cheese on the go.”

  “Great, I’m starving.”

  Ladling out two dishes of macaroni, Zachariah passed Holly one of the bowls and a spoon.

  “Sure you can manage?”

  “Course I can.” Holly, not as sure as her words indicated, balanced the bowl on her knees and dipped in the spoon.

  Dripping cheese onto her jumper she quickly shoveled the macaroni into her mouth and chewed slowly, relishing its rich, savory taste. However, as she was about to refill her spoon the bowl slipped and she ended up with a lap full of the aromatic pasta dish.

  Holly’s lip trembled and tears filled her eyes. If she couldn’t even feed herself how on earth would she manage to finish the race?

  Taking the bowl away, Zachariah hande
d her a cloth. “It’s not too bad, just mop up for now, you can change your clothes in a bit. I’ll get you some more food.”

  “I don’t want any more.”

  Swiveling on his knees to look at her, Zachariah’s gaze was steady, intense. “Of course you do, Holly. You’ve barely had a mouthful. I know it’s difficult at the moment, but it will be okay, and the sling is just to protect your arm, to make sure you don’t do too much.” He paused, looking at her woebegone face. “Tell you what, we’ll finish this then you can rest for a bit longer before we get going.”

  “You go. I'll be fine on my own.”

  “Oh yeah, honey, that I can see. However, there is no way I’m going to leave you here on your own. Don’t worry, with a bit more rest you’ll be as right as rain. Now, how about some more mac and cheese?”

  He held the full spoon to her lips, stubbornly she kept her mouth closed, her eyes sparkling in defiance. “It’s real tasty,” he cajoled.

  Resenting him a few moments more, her lips stayed stubbornly closed, but noticing the amusement dancing in his eyes she couldn’t help but smile, and reluctantly opened her mouth for the spoon.

  * * * *

  Zachariah settled down on his sleeping bag. He felt tired to the bone. He hadn’t intended to stop for anything more than short breaks along this part of the trail, but then he hadn’t reckoned with Holly having an accident. When he’d heard her call out and saw that she had fallen, his heart had been in his mouth. In some respects she had been lucky, a dislocated shoulder was far easier to repair than a broken neck. However, he wasn’t fooling himself. Holly being able to carry on was going to be difficult, but if he stopped her from continuing, he knew she would never forgive him. She would suspect him of undermining her confidence and for doing it for his own evil ends. He sighed. What to do?