Fire and Ice

by Susan Page Davis

  Darby

  Rick read it over her shoulder. “She’s a good kid,” he said.

  “Yes. She loves dogs, and she’s a big help to me lately. I wish I could afford to pay her.”

  “She’s getting paid in the knowledge you’re giving her.”

  Robyn nodded. “I promised her I’d teach her to drive the sled this winter. She’s had a couple of lessons. She’ll be good at it.”

  In less than twenty minutes, Robyn had doled out the dog food and meat, while Rick filled the water dishes. Robyn took a few seconds to pat and speak to each dog. She never liked being away from them all day. Tomorrow Darby would probably spend most of the day here. Training runs and puppy lessons would fill the hours.

  Rick walked with her back to the house. For a few seconds, everything felt in sync. If she could just forget about their finances, Grandpa’s accident, and the buyer coming to look over her best dogs, life would be close to perfect right now.

  Robyn went about her chores in the dark Monday morning, trying not to think too hard about the day’s schedule. The buyer was to arrive at nine a.m.

  When she went inside after her morning feeding and cleanup, Mom was vacuuming the living room. She shut the vacuum off when Robyn came in. “Just slicking up a little. I’m glad we got the Christmas tree out of the house, but it left needles all over the rug.”

  Robyn didn’t feel like doing anything special to get ready for the buyer, but that attitude would only show her immaturity. She raised her chin. “Do you want me to do anything to help?”

  “No, just eat breakfast and try not to fret. Mr. Sterns will be here in an hour or so, and then we’ll know one way or another if he wants to buy some dogs. Worrying about it won’t change things.”

  “Mom—”

  “Don’t tell me you don’t want to sell any dogs.” Her mother put her hand to her temple and sighed. “I’m sorry, Robyn. The last few days have been …”

  “I know. And I’m sorry.” Robyn sat down on the arm of the couch. “I know it’s been hard, going back and forth to see Grandpa. And I didn’t like what the therapist said yesterday any better than you did.”

  Her mother came over and sat down in the chair opposite her. “Honey, we can’t afford the skilled care for long. What little we had put away will be gone soon, but the physical therapist thinks Grandpa may need extended treatment.”

  Robyn nodded, mulling over what they’d heard the day before. “Six weeks, he said. Grandpa sure didn’t like that.”

  “Neither do I,” her mother admitted. “It’s far longer than Dr. Mellin thought he’d need. But the therapist was right that Grandpa’s still very weak. If he came home and took a bad fall, we’d be in a worse situation.”

  “So what can we do?”

  “I hope they’ll let us bring him home after a couple of weeks and drive him in for his appointments. Even using all that gas would be cheaper than keeping him in rehab.”

  “Mom, if we sell the breeding stock, our business will collapse.” Robyn held her gaze and plunged on. “Selling good quality pups and trained sled dogs is our bread and butter. The race helps, but I don’t see how we could continue running the Fire & Ice without a breeding kennel to support it. And your job isn’t enough.”

  “I know all that.” Mom pulled in a deep breath. “Sometimes I wonder if …”

  “If what?”

  “If we should sell the property and the business.”

  Robyn stared at her. “Everything? Sell the house and … no. We can’t. What would we do? Where would we live?”

  “I don’t know, sweetie. I just think some days that we can’t keep on the way we are.”

  “But … you don’t want to move into Anchorage, do you? Get jobs there? Housing is really expensive in the city.”

  “That’s true. And we own this place outright.” Her mother ran a hand through her short, curly hair. “I don’t know what to think. I just know things can’t stay the same. I suppose we’re better off in a house we own than paying rent. But with Grandpa’s care …”

  “Let’s see what that social worker can tell us,” Robyn said. “Dr. Mellin thought we might not be figuring right on the coverage. She said the government would use the patient’s savings if insurance or Medicare won’t pay for the treatment, but they can’t take everything we have, too.”

  “You’re right.” Her mother stood and gave her a wan smile. “Hey, I’m going to do a little dusting in here. Why don’t you eat something? And take off your jacket.”

  Robyn looked down at the grubby jacket she wore when she cleaned the dog pens. Usually when customers came, she changed her clothes and tried to look somewhat professional. Today she was so downhearted, she didn’t really care if Mr. Sterns thought she looked scruffy.

  As she poured milk on her cereal a few minutes later, she heard her mother’s phone ring. If that was Philip Sterns, she was glad he had Mom’s number, not hers. She didn’t want to talk to him until she had to.

  A lilt in her mother’s tone drew her to the door between the rooms. Mom smiled at her and mouthed, “Aven.”

  Her brother’s name was the first thing to make her smile since Rick Baker’s visit on Friday evening. Robyn did miss the traditional telephone, with extensions that allowed them all to share a conversation at once. She thought of asking Mom to use the speaker phone feature but instead concentrated on finishing her cereal. She’d get the details later.

  Mom talked for a few minutes, giving Aven an update on Grandpa’s condition. “That sounds great. Here, let me give the phone to Robyn. You can tell her yourself.”

  Robyn took it and put it to her ear. “Hey, how you doing?”

  “Terrific. Caddie and I are planning to come up the Saturday before the race and stay all week. We want to spend some time with Grandpa and the rest of you.”

  “That’s wonderful.” Unexpected tears filled her eyes. “This is a good time for you to come.”

  “Oh? Better than usual?”

  “We just need a little head-patting.” Robyn wiped a tear away with her sleeve.

  “Hey, kiddo, it’s going to be okay. We’ll talk everything over when I’m there.”

  She sniffed. “Good. Because Mom and I are kind of discouraged right now.”

  “I know. We’re praying for you. We’ll see you soon.”

  She signed off and handed the phone back to her mother. As she wiped away another tear, she smiled sheepishly. “Don’t know why he makes me cry. I’m glad he’s coming.”

  “Yes. Maybe he can help us make some decisions about your grandfather’s care.” Mom slid the phone into her pocket and held her arms out to Robyn. “Honey, I’m sorry that you’re feeling so sad.”

  Robyn hugged her. “I don’t mean to get upset. I just don’t think this is a good time to think about selling our land and our dogs when they support us, even if we don’t have much.”

  Her mother patted her back. “I know. Let’s talk about this later. I think I hear someone driving in.”

  “Oh, great!” Robyn stepped back. “My face is all blotchy, isn’t it?”

  Mom chuckled. “Go clean up. I’ll offer him coffee.”

  Philip Sterns stood when Robyn entered the room. That was a good sign, in her book. He looked to be about forty, with long, sturdy limbs. His hair receded off his forehead, and he wore glasses. Robyn tried not to form an opinion at first glance, but she didn’t like him. His ears stuck out noticeably beyond the bows of his glasses, and his teeth looked overly white, like snow no one’s walked on.

  “Robyn is our head trainer now,” her mother said as Robyn shook Sterns’s hand. “My father-in-law helps her, but she’s the boss.”

  “I’d be happy to show you the dogs I’m ready to sell,” Robyn said. She put on her best jacket and led Sterns out the back door and to the dog lot.

  “You have a gorgeous location.” He looked appreciatively toward the mountain peaks.

  “Thanks.” She opened the gate to the enclosure for the adult male dogs. F
rom puppies to retirees, all the dogs began barking as soon as they entered the yard. “Hush now,” Robyn called softly, and the din subsided to an occasional yip.

  “How do you make them do that?” Sterns asked.

  She laughed. “One of the first things I teach my dogs is to be quiet unless there’s something to bark about. Otherwise, our neighbors wouldn’t be too happy.”

  “That’s a pretty good trick.”

  “I understand you’re new to dog sled racing,” she said.

  “Yes. A friend of mine took me to a couple of races in the Sierras last winter, and I fell in love with the sport. I’ve bought a couple of dogs, but I understand Alaskan huskies are the best.”

  “We like to think so, too.”

  He laughed. “I’ve done some research, and I’m thinking about doing some experimental breeding.”

  Robyn stopped with her hand on the latch of the gate. “How do you mean?”

  “I’d like to try crossing huskies with some greyhound blood.”

  She nodded slowly. “Have you done any reading about that sort of crossbreeding?”

  “A little. Oh, I know it’s been tried before, but I have some ideas of my own.”

  “I see. Have you bred dogs before, Mr. Sterns? Or is this a new interest, since you became enamored of mushing?”

  “I haven’t actually raised any animals myself yet, but I want to. I’ve read that it’s best to raise and train your own team. They know what you expect better that way.”

  “That can be true, but for someone new to the sport, it might be best to start with a team that’s already mature and trained to mush. Get used to running the team, and make sure you like it. Then, if you want to get into breeding …”

  “Oh, I know I like it.” He grinned at her. “My friend let me drive his dogs a few times, and I’m hooked. What I’d really like to find is a team that’s ready to go now, and I could do a few short races this spring. Then I can breed the dogs and start building my custom team. And next year … well, I’m thinking maybe I’ll try to qualify for the big one.”

  “The … the Iditarod?”

  “That’s right. Oh, I know it takes years to master it, but I plan to be up there soon with Mackey and King and the rest.”

  Robyn swallowed hard. “That’s quite a goal to work toward.” She wanted to say more but decided to leave it alone. If he pursued the matter, he’d soon learn how tough it was to qualify for the Iditarod.

  “This fellow is one of my best right now,” she said, stooping to pat Max. She’d really miss him if she sold him, but the price she had in mind would pay for a lot of dog food. “He’s a good lead dog, and he’s strong.”

  “Is he … uh … can I breed him?”

  “No, but—”

  “I want to breed dogs and raise my own team,” Sterns said, his face eager. “I’m serious about that.”

  “Mr. Sterns, I’m not really selling breeding stock right now. I raise dogs and train them to race. If I think they won’t make good sled dogs, I sell them as pets. But I don’t usually sell my breeding dogs.”

  “When I told your mother on the phone, she said you might need to sell a few.”

  Robyn’s chest squeezed. “I’m sorry if there was a misunderstanding. That’s not really my intent right now.”

  “Oh. Well … which one is your best sire? I did a little reading up on your kennel before I came. Isn’t Tumble the one? Everyone wants pups with his bloodline, right?”

  She hesitated then led him to Tumble’s kennel. He greeted her with a quiet yip and licked her hand. “This is Tumble, and you’re right. He’s our primary sire right now. But he’s not for sale.”

  She showed Sterns several other male dogs that did well in harness, but Rounder and the others didn’t seem to impress him. Hero, a big black-and-white Siberian husky, bared his teeth and growled when the man approached him. The other dogs eyed Sterns with indifference. She took him over to the female dogs’ enclosure. Coco ran to the end of her tether and strained eagerly toward them.

  “Oh, I like this guy,” Sterns said.

  “She’s four years old.” Robyn determined to ignore his mistake. “She’s a good team dog. I use her as a wheeler or anywhere else on the line except the lead. She’s strong, and she has a lot of stamina. With a little more experience, she might work into lead, but right now I use her farther back.”

  “Has she had any litters?”

  “Yes. One. I’ve got some of her pups I’m working with now.” She thought about offering to sell him some of the female pups, but the idea of putting them into the hands of an inexperienced person for their sled training made her cringe.

  After looking at half a dozen more females, Sterns nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I like them all. What do you say I take those three”—he nodded toward Coco and the two others nearest her—“and Tumble.”

  Robyn sucked in a deep breath. “Tumble isn’t for sale. I can give you one of his sons—a two-year-old showing a lot of promise.” She supposed she could sell three adult females and be all right. But Tumble was out of the question.

  “I’ll tell you what.” He smiled and peered at her through his glasses. “I’ll meet your price on all the females without any dickering. And for Tumble, I’ll give you triple what you’re asking for the two-year-old.”

  Robyn’s heart sank. How could she turn down that kind of money when they needed it so badly? If Mom were out here with them, she’d probably accept the offer. But it would set Robyn’s breeding program back years. Tumble’s offspring were becoming known in racing circles. Mushers noticed his pups wherever they ran, which would include the Yukon Quest and the Iditarod this year. She wanted to be ready when they won. She had no doubt more dog owners would bring their females to Holland Kennels for breeding.

  She swallowed hard. “I’m sorry, Mr. Sterns. I stand by what I said. You can bring your females here to be bred, but Tumble isn’t for sale.”

  He studied her for a long moment. “How about if I go back to Anchorage and give you a couple of days to think it over? Talk to your mother about it. I’ll come back Wednesday.”

  “I won’t change my mind.”

  “Are you sure about that?” He smiled again. “I’m not prepared to take the dogs I buy today, anyway. I’ve got a rental car. I’ll have to come back with a truck.”

  “We can crate and ship the dogs for you, if you want. We’ve trucked dogs to the airport for our customers before. It’s no problem. But I really think Max is a better dog for you. You said you’d like a lead dog you can race this spring.”

  He shook his head. “I still think we should let this sit for a couple of days. We’ll talk again Wednesday.”

  four

  After supper Robyn hitched up six dogs for a two-mile run. The snow was eighteen inches deep on open areas, and the trail conditions were perfect. Mom had gone to Anchorage and would be back later, after Robyn got home.

  Half a mile out, just after she crossed onto Rick’s land, Tumble barked and surged forward. The other dogs caught his energy and pulled faster, too. Soon Robyn saw what inspired them. Someone with a flashlight was coming toward them on snowshoes.

  She recognized Rick as they reached him. He stepped off the trail and waited for her to stop the team. Robyn set the snow hook and greeted him.

  Rick pushed back his hood and grinned at her. “You’re looking good. How’s it going?”

  “Well, Mom called a little while ago and said Grandpa did well on his therapy sessions today. But they’re still giving him pain meds for aches and pains.”

  “It takes the old bones longer to heal than it does young ones.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Did the buyer come to look over your dogs?”

  She nodded. “Philip Sterns. I don’t like him. He doesn’t know much about dogs, but he wants to race this year and he thinks that by next year he’ll qualify for the Iditarod.”

  “Hmm. Does he have someone to mentor him?”

  “I’m
not sure. He did mention some friends who got him interested in sledding, but he’s not ready to own good dogs, Rick. He’ll ruin them.”

  “So you don’t want to sell to him.”

  “Not really, but … the truth is, we need the cash, and Mom is pushing me to close the deal. He’s coming back Wednesday.”

  “How many dogs does he want?”

  “Four in all. I don’t have much problem with selling him three females, although he’ll probably mess up their training. But he wants to start his own designer breeding program, and he knows absolutely nothing about dogs.”

  “That’s tough to accept.”

  “I’ll say. And he wants to buy Tumble. I told him and Mom absolutely not, but … well, he’s offering us a bundle for him.” The team was restless and wriggled in their harnesses. “I shouldn’t stop long. They want to run, and they deserve it. But thanks for letting me sound off.”

  “Sounds like you have a tough decision to make,” Rick said. “I’ll keep praying for you.”

  “Thanks. I admit I get riled when I think about selling off our breeding stock. The business would go under.”

  “And your mom wants to do that? Does she want to get out of the kennel business?”

  Robyn sighed. “I don’t know. But she pointed out today that we may end up having to sell everything anyway, and it would be better to sell the best dogs now at a good price than to wait and have to sell in a hurry at reduced figures when we’re desperate.”

  “I’m sorry. I had no idea things were that bad.”

  “I’m not sure they are, but Mom seems to think that Grandpa’s situation will break us. I don’t know much about insurance and Medicare and all that, but it doesn’t seem fair. Sometimes I wonder if she’s just tired of this life and wants to move into town.”

  Rick’s eyes widened. “You mean … sell your house and everything?”

  “She’s mentioned it. Please keep that between us. I don’t think it’s going to happen, but when Mom gets fretting about money, she says things like that.”

  “That’s a lot to deal with.” He cocked his head to one side. “Do you think maybe you don’t like this Sterns fellow because making a deal with him could signal the end of your family’s way of life, or do you have something specific not to like about him?”