Let There Be Love: The Sled Dog Series, Book 1

by Melissa Storm

  Reading could keep her company, even if “The Employer” could not. She would get by. One way or another, she would be fine.

  But why couldn’t she put Shane Ramsey out of her mind? Why did she continue to turn the mystery of his odd behavior over in her mind again and again? It would likely continue to bother her until she could figure out why he was so stern and why he had instantly disliked her. If she couldn’t change his mind about her, maybe she’d be able to change her mind about him by learning whatever truth motivated his strange actions.

  Yes, it was going to be a long stay, but maybe she could find a way to make it fly by a little faster. Resolved to unravel not only the secrets of her family but also of her new employer, Lauren soon fell asleep without getting the chance to finish her novel.

  The next morning, Lauren awoke to the sound of twenty-seven dogs barking at the rising sun. She squinted through half-veiled eyelids, taking a moment to remember where she was and why.

  A pounding sounded on the wall, followed by Shane’s muffled growl, “Go feed the dogs!”

  “Go feed the dogs,” she mimicked, a part of her hoping the old grump had heard as she dressed for the outside.

  The dogs were just as eager to see her today as they had been yesterday. They pulled against their leads, hopped on top of their houses, and ran energetic circles around their kennels.

  “Good morning, lovelies!” she sang, going through and giving each dog a pat on its head as she reminded herself of their names.

  Briar Rose greeted her the most warmly of all, actually letting out a low, pathetic whine when Lauren continued on to say hello to the next dog.

  “Aww, Briar. I’ll take you out first. I promise. But first, how about some breakfast?”

  Apparently, that was the right thing to ask, because the team’s excitement reached a fever pitch as Lauren headed off in search of the dog food. Noting the old wooden shed round the side of the house, Lauren headed there first. It was bolted up tight, and its windows were obscured with cardboard. So this must be the shed mentioned in Shane’s ridiculous house rules, one of the two places Lauren was not allowed to go.

  This realization made her tug at the door handle with even more force, but it wouldn’t budge. What was in there that was so private? She wanted to spend more time trying to figure that out, but the dogs were manic with excitement now, and if she didn’t feed them soon, Shane would no doubt come out to see about the holdup—and such an exchange would not be pleasant, especially first thing in the morning.

  At last she found the dog’s kibble in the garage, along with a hose she could use to fill up their water dishes. When she rejoined them at the kennels, she noticed that each only had a single bowl instead of the two they needed, so she dumped the food on the ground and filled the bowls to the brim with water, which froze over almost immediately in the frigid climate.

  “What am I doing wrong?” Lauren asked Briar Rose, who sadly didn’t have an answer for her.

  Once the red husky had finished her meal, Lauren unhooked her from the kennel and took her for a walk around the property. Briar stayed tucked in at Lauren’s heels as they tromped through the snow. Was she really going to have to do this with twenty-seven dogs, one at a time, every single day she was here?

  She let Briar off the leash so the old dog could run and really stretch her legs, then returned to the kennels to see about grabbing a couple more dogs to exercise.

  Shane was there, kicking at one of the water dishes and mumbling under his breath. Briar Rose ran right over to him and jumped up to plant a series of enthusiastic kisses on his face.

  “What’s going on here?” Shane said, turning toward Lauren with a deep scowl on his face.

  “I fed the dogs and now I’m walking them, one by one like your rules dictate.” She had half a mind to add “sir” but didn’t want to make him even angrier than he already was, no matter how amusing that might be.

  “Why is there ice in the bowls? Didn’t you follow my instructions about the slurry?”

  “Slurry?” She giggled at the funny word. “Is that one of those Inuit words for snow?”

  Shane let out a deep sigh. “You’re going to be more trouble than you’re worth. You know that?”

  “Maybe if you taught me how you wanted things done, you wouldn’t be so disappointed all the time,” she pointed out, but he ignored her snide remark and jumped into enraged lecture mode.

  “Step one: give the dogs slurry—warm water and food in one dish to keep it from freezing over.” He kicked at the bowl again. “Step two: keep the dogs on leash, always. No free running unless you want them to fight. Step three: you’ll preserve your energy better and use theirs up more if you get on the small sled. Step four—“

  “Hold on a sec. You’re giving me a lot of information all at once and I don’t have anything to write it down with.”

  He sighed again and pinched the bridge of his nose with thickly gloved fingers. “That’s why I wrote it down for you. You didn’t read the rules before signing, did you?”

  She hesitated, which apparently gave him all the answer he needed.

  “I thought you said you take this job seriously.”

  “I do. I just didn’t realize there would be no on-the-job training and that you would be so particular about how everything is done. They’re just dogs, Shane. Dogs need love more than anything.”

  “You have got to be kidding me? Love?” He actually had the audacity to laugh at her now. “And they are not just dogs. They are my entire livelihood. They’re champion racers who need to stay in shape. They were born to run, and just because I can barely walk doesn’t mean they should be tied up all season. So forget the love and focus on your duties. Once you make sure all the important things are handled each day, you have my blessing to use whatever energy you have left—if you have any at all—to shower the puppy wuppies with wuv.”

  She raised an eyebrow at him, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Are you making fun of me?”

  “Just stating the obvious. It’s not my fault you have no idea what you’re doing, and it’s also not my fault you didn’t read the rules.” He cleared his throat and glanced at her for a moment before heading back toward the house and calling over his shoulder, “Now put that dog back on her lead and do the job right.”

  Lauren knew then that Shane’s friendship would not be easily won. As much as she challenged him, he would challenge her right back. She knew what she was fighting for—a fresh start for her future and illumination of her father’s past—but what on earth was Shane working so hard to keep hidden?

  Lauren hooked the dogs up to the sled one by one and ran them as Shane had instructed. Even though she was exhausted after a few hours, her team didn’t seem any less energetic than usual.

  Committed to going back out after a quick lunch, she headed inside to see what was left in the scant pantry.

  Shane sat by the window in his big recliner. Apparently he’d been watching her. For how long, she had no idea—but the realization made her uncomfortable.

  “Were you spying on me?” she asked, trying to sound more light-hearted than she felt.

  He rubbed his palms on his pajama pants and sat up a bit straighter in his chair. As if he needed any added help to intimidate her. “Spying? No. It’s my job to watch you and make sure my dogs are safe and being well taken care of.”

  “It would be easier if you taught me what to do,” she pointed out yet again.

  He smiled as if he enjoyed their nearly constant battles. “You’re supposed to already know what to do.”

  So they’d reached this impasse. Again. Lauren rolled her eyes and headed back to the kitchen.

  “Where are you going?” he called after her. His chair creaked as he let down the foot rest.

  “To see about lunch. You hungry?”

  “Yes, but I’m not sure we have much of anything here. When are you going to the store?”

  “After I finish exercising the dogs, I guess.” She dug into the v
ery back of the pantry and found some boxed goods that may or may not have expired. “How were you living before I came here? It seems that nothing is taken care of and hasn’t been for a long time.”

  He shrugged. “I’ll grab an apple or something after my shower.”

  “Good, you need a shower. You stink.” He didn’t really, but she wanted to get in another jab while she could, and the set up was far too easy. Why did she enjoy bugging him so much? Did he enjoy vexing her, too?

  He held her eyes for a few seconds, a challenge, then burst into a smile. “Tell me that again after you actually break your first sweat working the dogs. By the way, they’ll tire faster if you add some weights to the sled.” He appraised her, looking her up and down, then added, “You’re too small to offer much resistance.”

  Lauren bit back a reminder that this information would have been more helpful before she’d spent half her day trying to exercise the dogs and returned her attention to finding something—anything—to eat.

  “Well?” Shane asked, hobbling into the kitchen behind her.

  “Well what?” she grumbled. “Go take your shower, stinky.”

  “If you have half the heart that you do a mouth, you’ll win the dogs over in no time.”

  She wondered if that was his way of telling her that he liked her—and if it even mattered to her whether or not he did. “Good to know,” she said plainly. “Now please go away.”

  He scoffed, but did as told.

  As Lauren fished some peanut butter and graham crackers from the nearly bare pantry, she wondered more about her employer and how he had come to be like he was. Shane Ramsey had real moments of humanness—whenever he cracked a smile or teased her or let any part of himself shine through his gruff exterior.

  Mostly, though, he was a beast of a man. Hardly even a man at all.

  Luckily for her, Lauren wasn’t afraid of monsters. And she would figure out Shane’s deal sooner rather than later. She’d always been too curious to let a good mystery go unsolved, and now she had two of them.

  First, she’d learn about why her father had given up racing, why he’d kept it from her, and what he had been doing on the day he died.

  Then she’d find out what horrible thing life had done to turn Shane Ramsey into his current beastly incarnation. Perhaps there was a better version of him buried somewhere deep within.

  As Lauren stood contemplating the expiration date on a jar of strawberry jam she found nestled in the back of the fridge, the front door to the cabin opened, admitting a red-haired woman bundled tightly against the cold. She watched as the stranger carefully removed her outerwear and set it neatly in the closet.

  “Can I help you?” Lauren asked, having decided against taking a chance on the jam and tossing it into the garbage beneath the sink.

  The woman jumped slightly, but recognition soon shone within her light brown eyes. “Oh, you must be the new handler. Hi, I’m Grace Pearson.” She rushed forward to offer her hand to Lauren, but Lauren remained cautious.

  “Shane didn’t mention a Grace. Can you tell me a bit more about why you’re here?”

  “He wouldn’t, would he? He never mentions much of anything at all. Actually, I don’t know your name yet, either.” She paused.

  “Oh, yeah. I’m Lauren.”

  “Hello, Lauren the handler. I’m Grace, Mr. Ramsey’s physical therapist. I come by a few times per week to help work his legs and strengthen his back. You’ll be seeing lots of me, I’m afraid.”

  Lauren brightened. She’d have a friend in this place after all. “What’s to be afraid of? I’ll be happy for someone to talk to other than Mr. Grump.”

  Both women laughed and took a seat at the small kitchen table. Lauren offered Grace some peanut butter and graham crackers, but she declined.

  “Mr. Grump is definitely accurate now, but he wasn’t like that before. Such a shame what happened to him.”

  “You mean the accident?” Lauren asked, wondering if this particular mystery might be solved more simply that she’d originally thought.

  “That too, of course. But…” She frowned and, having apparently changed her mind, reached for the box of graham crackers. She took one long cracker from the package and broke it into quarters. “No, it’s not my place to say.” She shook her head back and forth longer than was natural for the gesture. “He doesn’t talk about things for a reason, and I don’t want to betray his confidence by blabbing on about things that aren’t any of my business.”

  “But don’t I have a right to know? I mean, seeing as I’m here living with him? If I’m playing house with a madman, I kind of need to know.”

  “Mad?” She resumed the long, slow shaking of her head, then dropped her voice to a whisper. “No, nothing like that. Hurting is more like it. But—“

  The two women were interrupted by the arrival of their mutual employer, his sandy hair wet and brushed back neatly from his shower. He’d even shaved, revealing a strong jawline and flawless skin, both of which had previously been hidden by his raggedy beard. He looked nice—at least physically. His expression, though, was far from nice. “That’s enough gossip for today,” he boomed.

  “So sorry, Mr. Ramsey. I wasn’t going to say a word about any of it.” Grace ducked her head in apology.

  Shane turned fully toward Grace so that his back was to Lauren, effectively shutting her off from the continuing conversation. “My right knee has really been acting up this morning. Can we work it extra today?”

  “Whatever you think is best. We’ll get those kinks worked out for you,” Grace said, ever the sycophant. Was she that way because she liked Shane or because she feared him? Maybe it was a bit of both, Lauren decided, as she slathered another cracker with peanut butter and shoved it in her mouth. When she’d had her fill of the cardboard-like lunch, she got up to go back outside with the dogs.

  “Where are you going?” Shane asked, acknowledging her for the first time since he’d returned from his shower.

  “Back to work,” she said with a full mouth. A few crumbs escaped and fell onto her shirt.

  “No,” he said, watching as the crumbs settled on her breast. “Take my car and head into town. Find something decent for us to eat for dinner tonight.”

  “What about the dogs?”

  “They’ll make do. Tomorrow you’ll exercise them correctly right from the start of the day. Today has already gone to waste anyway, so go do something useful while the sun’s still up.”

  Lauren left with one look back toward Shane and Grace, who were setting themselves up on the floor of the living room. Grace was a good-looking woman, and she seemed to do whatever Shane asked of her. Soon her hands would be all over Shane as she helped him work out the kinks, and Shane had sent Lauren out so they’d be alone…

  Given all this, Lauren wondered if Grace was just Shane’s physical therapist or something more. More than that, though, she wondered why the sharp pang of jealousy gnawed at her gut.

  Shane was horrible—the worst!—so why did she find herself increasingly drawn to him?

  The commercial area of Puffin Ridge seemed smaller than the valley property on which Shane’s cabin and kennels were housed. In fact, it probably was.

  A few blocks going north to south, and just two going east to west, made up the entire downtown area. Lauren quickly found the grocery store, seeing as it was by far the largest building in town.

  As she parked, a few passersby stopped to wait for her, both inside cars and on foot.

  “Are you Ramsey’s new handler?” a middle-aged man wearing a thick cap with long ear flaps asked the moment she had exited the borrowed car.

  She offered her best smile, happy to find out that not all of Alaska’s residents were as cold as cantankerous Shane. “Yes, I’m Lauren.”

  “Not from around here, are you?” the woman at his side said in a way that hardly sounded like a question. Lauren assumed this was his wife, and a moment later, they locked hands, confirming her suspicion.

  Laur
en shook her head. “I’m from New York.”

  “Oh, we went there once. Busy place,” the old man said, and his partner nodded.

  “And how’s Shane Ramsey? He treating you right?” the woman asked, her eyebrow raised sharply like a question mark.

  “As good as to be expected, I guess,” Lauren answered with a dismissive laugh.

  The man and woman laughed, too, and another young woman pushing a cart with a toddler in the basket came over to join them.

  “He’s a bit of a local legend around here,” the young mom whispered, as if she were afraid that Shane himself might overhear.

  “For his bad temper?” Lauren asked, only half kidding.

  “He wasn’t always like that, you know.”

  “So I hear…” Would this be how she finally learned his secrets, in casual conversation with a few friendly locals?

  “Heck, if I were him, I’d be angry at the world, too,” the man said.

  “There’s no reason to be as cranky as Shane Ramsey,” Lauren said.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t be too sure about that, darlin’. Did you know that he was expected to win the big race this year? The biggest of the big, the Iditarod. Each year he’s been climbing the ranks, and this was supposed to be the one he finally took home. Except he had his accident almost as soon as the season started.”

  The women nodded, and one said, “Yes, he went from the top of his game to possibly being out of it all together. The way I hear it, he may never race again.”

  “Until next year, right?”

  “No, not ever. His injury is pretty serious, you know? I don’t know all the particulars, but they say he’s lucky he can walk at all. Should’ve wound up in a chair with the way that snow machine flipped right on top of him and crushed in his knees.”

  Lauren winced as she pictured Shane in that deadly accident, but the man she knew wasn’t a quitter. “He’s working hard to get better. I’m sure he’ll be fine in no time and back to working out his aggression on the trails.”