by Cate Masters
Hayden mimicked him. “Saddle up, boys. Clint Eastwood’s riding out, with or without us.” He swaggered up cowboy style. His shoulder bumped Buck’s when he set his cup on the tray. Hayden flicked up his glance like a gunslinger whipping out his gun, ready for a fight.
Buck pinned him with a glare. “I said nothing of the sort.”
Melanie stepped between them and faced Hayden. “Buck’s right. Go get your gear and we’ll meet in the barn.”
Hayden’s hard look at her held no warmth. No teasing.
An icicle clamped onto Buck’s spine. He knows. “See you there.” He strode out through the lobby, glad to be leaving the lodge, if less than ecstatic about the alone time with Melanie’s pit crew. He arrived at the barn and the huskies’ happy barking helped cheer him. Furry love…if only it were enough. He hugged each one, opened to their warmth and sloppy kisses. “Yes. I love you, too.”
The others came in, their dismal moods ruining his. Without another word, he harnessed the dogs, made sure everyone was ready, and they left.
About an hour later, on the way to Sevuvuoma Lodge, Hayden veered his sled away from the rest.
Melanie called, “What’s he doing?”
Damned if Buck knew. The other two camera crew followed, filming away.
Then Buck caught sight of it—a lynx. “No, don’t chase it.” They either couldn’t hear him or didn’t care.
Hayden urged his team of dogs faster.
Buck did the same and his sled flew over the snow. He expertly cut between the fleeing animal and Hayden’s sled. Buck and his dogs came dangerously close to the tree line. And the wild animal.
“Back off,” he yelled.
“Screw you.” Hayden slowed his sled.
After a glance back, Buck fumed. Asshole! Hayden had swerved behind him and steered sharply toward the tree line—and the lynx.
Claws extended, the cat swiveled and swatted a wide paw. With a yelp, the nearest dog jerked away. Teeth bared, the other three huskies snapped their jaws at the lynx.
Buck braked hard, and before his sled jerked completely to a stop, unsnapped the hunting knife from its sheath and ran. Arms raised, he roared, praying like hell the cat would fall for the illusion he was as big as he tried to appear, and as threatening, and hightail it in the other direction.
His hopes fell when he glimpsed three lynx cubs huddled nearby. The mama cat wouldn’t leave her babies unprotected.
Shit, it’s like a recurring nightmare. One he intended would not end badly for his sled dogs. “Get the hell out of here, Hayden.”
Filming the action, Hayden leaned around him. “Move over, you’re blocking my shot.”
“I said fucking move. Get my dogs away from danger.”
Melanie pushed Hayden off the sled and had barely climbed on before she yelled, “Mush!” On a hard turn, they were soon within a safer range.
“Ya!” Stomping, Buck waved furiously, heart pounding as hard as his feet. One horrifying moment extended into a stare-down between him and the animal. His heart pounded hard and fast enough to explode.
The lynx snarled, then shot into the trees.
A moan escaped Buck, and his body crumpled with relief.
“Shit, where did it go?” Hayden stepped close.
Too close. Rage roared up and through his head in a manic rush. The force clamped Buck’s hand into a fist and he swung hard. Hayden went over like a stick figure, camera slowly twirling away from his grasp, then swirling to a stop in the snow. As if someone else were yelling instead of him, Buck heard the anger explode in his voice, unfamiliar and alarming. Instinct urged him to pummel the guy to a pulp. He moved with rigid steps, every muscle rigid, ready to explode, too. Pulse pounding in his ears, he barely heard the others calling. Telling him to stop.
He forced breaths in and out. Someone grabbed his arm and he jerked from the grasp. Then he saw Melanie’s fearful eyes. “Buck, stop. He’s not worth it.”
He stumbled backward. Shit. “I…” When he glanced back, cold shivered through him. Cameras. Aimed at him. Filming. Goddammit.
Melanie stooped to grab Hayden’s video cam, then tapped his cheek. “Hay. Get up.”
With a shake of his head, Hayden curled up, holding his jaw. He glared up at Buck. “You attacked me.”
Oh, not by half. “You got off easy,” he mumbled. More loudly, he enunciated so everyone would hear. “You endangered my dogs. Not to mention your own people.” Dog. Check the dog. He swung back toward the sled. “Oh, God.” Drops of blood dotted the snow. He fell to his knees beside the husky and gently parted the fur. A gash, but not life-threatening, at least. “I’m so sorry, Gunnar.” The dog whined.
Melanie crouched beside him. “Is he hurt bad?”
He jerked his head toward his sled. “There’s a first aid kit strapped to the inside right. Would you get it?”
She ran to his sled and returned with the kit.
“No one bother to check on me,” Hayden called. “I’m fine except for a small concussion.”
Melanie shot him a glare. “You are fine.”
Buck muttered, “He might not be if he doesn’t shut up.” Oops, what’s that whooshing sound? My pathetic career going down the toilet. An exasperated sigh, and he said, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to knock him down.” I meant to knock him out cold. “It was unprofessional of me. I heard one of my best dogs yelp in pain and lost it.” Dabbing the gash with antiseptic, Buck murmured softly to the whimpering animal. The wound didn’t appear life threatening, but would require expert attention. Definitely not worth ruining his livelihood over.
Her expression pained, she shook her head. “Hayden was the unprofessional one. He crossed the line.”
Hayden called, “Our show is called No Boundaries, remember?”
No freaking remorse whatsoever? Buck seethed with fury but wouldn’t abandon Gunnar for such slime.
Melanie blinked in disbelief. “We still have rules. Both for safety and conduct. You crossed them both.” Her voice started off soft but ended loud.
Hayden flailed to a stand. “I’m trying to keep this gig afloat. Get some goddamn usable footage. What have you done besides flirt with Dog Man here?”
She shot to her feet. She waved at Gina and Victor, still filming. “Stop shooting. We’re not using any of this garbage.”
Hayden sneered, “Don’t want your viewers to see your horny side?”
Jaw set, she shook her head once. “One more word, Hayden, and you’ll fly back early. Alone.” She turned to Buck. “Now what do we do? Your dog can’t haul a sled.”
Relief washed over him. He was afraid he’d have to fight them on that. “No, you’re absolutely right. I can’t—I won’t—risk it. Even if he had the stamina, the harness would tear open the gash and he’d lose more blood. We’ll have to improvise for the rest of the journey.”
“Of course,” Melanie said. “We’ll do whatever it takes to keep him safe. And we’ll pay for whatever veterinary care he needs.”
Hayden groaned. “It’s a scrape, isn’t it? The bobcat was too small to hurt any of us.”
Buck shook with the effort of not throttling the jerk. “The lynx could have killed you. Or my husky. Didn’t you see the cubs? Wild animals do whatever they have to do to protect their young.”
Kicking snow, Hayden grumbled something inaudible.
Melanie stomped to him and spoke in sharp, low tones. Not that it had any effect. With his lip curled, Hayden could have passed for a surly teenager. Probably listened about as well as one too.
Buck couldn’t wait to lose the jerk.
He wished he could say the same about Melanie. Every time he thought he had a handle on her, she surprised him. In the best possible way. Made him remember what it was like to feel good. Not something he could easily forget. Or give up.
* * * *
While helping Buck reassemble the sled teams, Melanie did whatever it took to get the job done well. To redeem hers
elf and her coworkers in his eyes.
With an extra dog on Gina’s sled, she and Hayden doubled up. Buck straddled the wounded husky and yelled, “Mush.” Victor’s team sprinted ahead, the others lagging behind under the extra weight.
Melanie kept her sled close to the rear so she could keep an eye on everyone. After about an hour, she caught Buck’s eye. “How’s he doing?”
Jaw clenched, he said, “Not too bad. It will be dark by the time we get to the lodge.”
She waved, a stupid gesture she hoped would put him at ease. Could life get any more ridiculous? Everything was falling apart around her. The show a catastrophe, no pun intended. Her personal life up for ridicule and slander, and her behavior with Buck inexcusable.
Worse, she didn’t regret the way she’d acted. He revived parts of herself she thought had died three years ago. Now that she was beginning to feel whole again, she needed more, so much more. From him.
Hayden had nailed it. Without realizing it, she had been flirting. Buck reminded her what it was like to be a woman, something she’d buried deep under layers and layers of grief and numbness. Funny, she had to come to a frozen world so she could begin to thaw those forgotten parts of herself. Like a seed under permafrost, it tingled to life again, unfurling from its fetal cocoon yearning to burst free and bask in the sun. Remembering Buck’s warmth came like a shot of steam.
Yes, she’d shocked him last night by kissing him. Why hadn’t he responded? Because his professionalism stopped him, or some macho valor?
Or maybe the cold had frozen her brain. Her head told her she’d acted stupidly, but her heart leapt for joy and screamed go for it! For years, she’d trained her emotions to play dead. Yet, she couldn’t go through life like a zombie. When she’d come to this place, she’d never expected to find her true self again, but she had. The journey had continued inward, to illuminate forgotten parts of herself. The experience was a precious gift, and she didn’t want to give it back.
Darkness began to fill in the wooded areas. Three large shadows lumbered along in a clearing, and Gina yelled in fright.
“Just moose,” Melanie called. “They’re harmless so long as we steer clear and leave them alone.” Nothing would hurt their team. She trusted Buck to get them safely to the lodge. Hopefully someone there would have some veterinary skills.
Then what? Tomorrow they had to get to the Icehotel, another five or six hours by dogsled. No way could they travel like this, overburdening the huskies. The injured one couldn’t work.
She’d hate to have to cancel the last leg of the journey—the very reason she’d come here. Tomorrow, February 14th, should’ve been her and Pete’s third anniversary, in the Icehotel. Please don’t make me have to decide. Maybe that was the real reason she’d been led here. The final phase of letting Pete go, once and for all. To travel such a distance and choose not to go to the Icehotel. To dredge up old pain and miss him so fiercely again.
No, that didn’t make any sense either. Can’t think now. Tomorrow, the choice would become clear, and she’d decide then. The important thing now was to get to Sevuvuoma Lodge. Once there, they could take care of the injured dog, and she would try to make it up to Buck. Again.
When the lodge came into view, she could have cried in relief. Finally.
After they pulled their sleds up beside a low-slung building, Buck hoisted the injured dog, then carried him inside.
She hurried after him and found a light switch inside the door that lit a single bulb hanging from the ceiling. Buck gently laid Gunnar on a bed of straw in the corner.
Seeing Buck so worried stabbed her like a knife to her gut. “What do you need me to do?” Please don’t say “nothing.” Don’t tell me to leave. Her muscles ached from hours of mushing, but until she’d done something—anything—to help, she’d never rest.
Eyes closed, he pinched the bridge of his nose, then shook it off. “Can you stay here while I unharness the other teams? Talk to Gunnar, keep him calm.”
She dropped to the straw and pet the dog, hoping his wound wouldn’t turn him defensive. Instead, the animal rested his head in her lap. “Poor baby. We’ll take care of you.”
Two by two, Buck led the rest of the dogs into the shelter. After he’d brought the final one inside, he filled pans with water. He carried one to the wounded dog and stroked the husky’s head as it lapped. “ I need to go in the main lodge and find a phone.”
“Should I stay here with him?”
“Why don’t you grab your bags and go use the sauna, have some drinks. We have a few hours before dinner yet.”
He seemed unable, or unwilling, to meet her gaze as he spoke. He didn’t blame her, did he?
“I can’t relax until your dog’s taken care of. I’ll either stay here or go with you.”
Finally, he looked her in the eye. “You don’t have to, Melanie.”
“I want to.” How stupid to be giddy-happy because he used her first name, but she was. It somehow meant the professional barrier had fallen away.
After a long exhale, he nodded once. “We should let him try to rest.” A brief touch of her elbow guided her out. They walked together through the snow to the lodge, a tall structure of log and glass with pointed peaks. Inside, the high-ceiling entrance made her feel insignificant and small. She let him do the talking, and followed when the man at the front desk pointed to a door in the side hallway.
He strode over, knocked and said something in Swedish. When a man opened up, Buck conversed with him in a terse manner. Melanie had no doubt he’d gotten straight to the point.
The man gestured them into the office and handed Buck a satellite phone. On the first call, Melanie guessed he spoke to a local vet.
After a quick discussion, Buck frowned, then dialed again. “Kenny, we have a problem.” He flicked the speaker button.
“Oh, no. I had a bad feeling about you on this gig.” Kenny sighed. “Let’s hear it.”
“When I signed on for this job, I never agreed to endanger either myself or my dogs. Especially not my team. I’d rather let Sasquatch have his way with me than—”
“Yeah, we get it, Joe. You love your dogs. What’s the deal?”
Melanie’s body went rigid at the name. “Joe?” Did he mistake Buck for someone else?
Buck held up a hand to silence her. “Tell the No Boundaries producers they can jump off an iceberg and cool off in some glacial waters. I am not, repeat not, risking my dogs in any way.”
“What sort of risk are we talking?” Kenny’s voice sounded tentative, as if he might consider a small one.
Buck’s nostrils flared wider. “Zero. That’s the only risk I’ll tolerate, Kenny. Zero risk to my dogs. I’ll pull the freaking sleds myself before I’ll let anyone steer them into harm’s way.”
She was about to add her agreement when Towson spoke. “Yeah yeah, calm down. I’m sure we can come to some happy medium. Right, Ms. Michaels?”
“Of course.” She’d love to settle the problem at hand if she could get past the “Joe” thing. Why did his own employer address Buck that way?
Buck nudged her closer to the phone. “Say it louder.”
“Pardon?” she asked.
“Tell him your team agrees to follow my rules regarding my dogs.”
Towson cut in. “Joe—”
The name acted like a taser to her nervous system. “It’s fine, Mr. Towson.” She punched the speaker button, disconnecting the phone.
“Hey!” Buck glared at the phone, then at her. “We weren’t finished.”
She had to wrap up the other business in a hurry, like before she lost her mind. “He called you Joe. Why?”
“What’s the big deal? It’s my name. Just…don’t tell anyone.”
A slow chill, like frost crystals creeping over her skin, made her shiver. “Your name’s Buck, isn’t it?” Of course, it wasn’t his real name. No one names their baby Buck. In the back of her mind, she’d known all along it was his nick
name.
With a casual shrug, he laughed. “Professionally, yes.”
“So he’s not mistaken? Your first name is Joe?”
“Yep. I’m just an ordinary Joe.”
The frost thickened to ice. She fell backward a step. “No.” Joe. Joe Wright.
Shades of brown swirled together as wall and floor began to intermingle in a way that sent off alarm bells, yet stole her balance. And apparently all the oxygen. When she doubled over to center herself, it turned into a freefall more frightening than any she’d experienced. Dream, it has to be a dream.
All the things Pete had said to her while he lay dying, all those things she didn’t want to hear, came rushing back. Telling her she’d find someone else to love. She’d get a second chance, a twice-in-a-blue-moon. Pete… In her mind, she saw herself falling, falling through nothingness. Reaching out for him. But Pete wasn’t there anymore.
Panic wrapped around her. Suffocated her. Pete!
“Melanie.” The deep voice rushed across space toward her. Strong arms drew her against a down parka¸ unzipped to reveal the chest beneath. Solid. Real.
She stared into deep brown eyes filled with concern.
“Hey Melanie?”
When not angry, his voice had a velvety quality. Soothing, and at the same time inflaming a riot inside her. The same effect as a double shot of vodka. She wanted to hear him say more, get drunk on that voice. I could drink a case of you.
Despite her difficulty breathing, she managed to whisper, “Ordinary Joe.” Could it really mean what she thought?
He flashed his trademark half-wince, half-smile. “Hopefully not that ordinary.”
“Joe Wright.” She pieced his name together, hoping to piece her mind together again, too.
“Named after my grandfather, if that makes it less boring.”
She stared into his face. “Thanks for catching me, Mr. Right.” Really, Pete? Am I misreading these signs? I need you to answer me one last time.
Pete didn’t answer. Maybe exhaustion affected her, body and mind.
“No need to be formal.” Buck lifted her onto her feet.