Jenna’s first husband, Marcus, had been the only father figure Zoya’d ever known. As best friends with Jenna and Andie, Anesia and Zoya had spent all their time with the Tikaani-Gray family. But when Marcus was killed, it affected them all in different ways. Zoya grieved Marcus’s death as if he were her father as well and not just the dad of her best friend.
Then Cole entered their lives. Jenna and Andie were happier now than the Naltsiine girls had seen them since Marc’s death. Maybe that was it. Did Zoya think they could have a fresh start as well if Anesia found a husband?
Anesia moved toward her bathroom to get ready. She couldn’t blame her daughter. After watching the overwhelming happiness enter Andie’s and Jenna’s lives with Cole, Anesia thought for a brief moment that maybe there was a little more to the whole married thing. Like maybe she should give it a little more consideration. But no. She had her daughter. Protecting her had to be the top priority. She had Jenna and Andie. She had her dogs. That was plenty. She made too many mistakes when it came to men.
A quick shower, packing of gear, and two cups of coffee later, Anesia found herself outside the truck loading the dogs with Sean at her side. His aftershave was unlike anything she’d ever smelled before. A little high-class mixed with a lot of masculine. Wow. Or maybe it was the guy wearing it.
No. No. No. Must be the thoughts planted by her instigating little offspring.
She would not go there. Even if he was incredibly good-looking. With that crazy blond hair, and those green eyes that she could get lost in. Especially when he was learning something new. The yearning, the intensity, he was so . . . real.
Whoa, girl. Get a grip. “Not gonna happen.”
“What’s not going to happen?”
Blood rushed to her face. “Did I say that out loud?”
Sean chuckled. “Are you always this driven, this focused on a race day?”
Maybe she had been attacking the chores this morning with a little more vigor than usual. If he only knew. “Sorry, Sean. I guess I just have a lot on my mind.”
“I know. I prayed for you guys this morning. And especially you.”
“Really?” Why did her voice have to go and squeak like a schoolgirl’s?
“Yes, I did. I know this must be very trying for you. To allow her to race with everything that has happened. For you to race.”
The words were innocent. His sincerity rang true. She could tell. But it didn’t stop her heart from melting into a puddle at her feet. What was wrong with her? “Thank you, Sean. That means a lot.”
He shrugged, giving her that now familiar smile—the one that made her insides tingle all the way down to her toes—and checked all the doors on the truck.
The man learned fast. She’d have to give him that. And she’d made him jump in with both feet. Not many people could’ve stood up to the challenge, but so far she’d been nothing but impressed with Sean Connolly.
Anesia straightened. And allowed herself to smile. Zoya was correct. Sean was a nice man.
But there just wasn’t time for romance. She didn’t think her heart could ever take it again.
Ever.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
SEAN
January 22
9:00 a.m.
The morning flew by, but he didn’t mind. Time spent with Anesia Naltsiine increased in value daily. And the dogs. Loved working with the dogs. For the first time in many years, he had purpose. Honest work. Honest pay. A man. His own man. The scare from their picnic excursion turned out to be nothing, but Sean noticed Cole’s ever-watchful gaze. And Cole called him several times. Asking him questions, telling him to keep his eyes open.
As they jostled along in the dog truck, he snuck another glimpse at Anesia. Her native features were elegant. The shine on her hair reminded him of black silk, like his mother’s favorite scarf.
Sean pushed the memory of his mother away. All the if-onlys couldn’t erase the fact that the last time he’d seen her they’d argued.
Focus on Anesia. She was here. Now.
Even bundled up in her gear, she was breathtaking.
Zoya poked him.
He’d been caught. Again.
There hadn’t been a lot of conversation between him and this tiny teen, but every so often he got glimpses of her depth. She had great ideas. Loved racing. And loved her mom. Sean hadn’t known many teenagers since he’d been one. But he’d heard horror stories from fellows at work. Thank goodness Anesia’s daughter wasn’t anything like that.
They shared a conspiratorial wink and he nudged her with his elbow. It felt good to be a part of something bigger than himself. Part of a group of people . . . friends that cared about one another.
Like a family.
The thought struck him an intense blow. Exactly like a family should be. The old memories tried to surface. Could he be a part of this family?
“Sean?” Zoya’s dark eyes peered up at him.
“Yes?”
“So what do you think of us so far? Are you liking it?”
“I love it. Never knew I could love work so much.”
“Even poop-scooping?” Zoya stuck out her tongue. “Blech. That’s the part I hate the most.”
“Even poop-scooping.”
Anesia laughed but her eyes remained glued to the road as she shifted gears.
“Wow. You really must’ve been desperate.”
“Zoya!” Anesia looked at him then, shock and mirth twinkled from her eyes. Her lips pursed and twitched. An unsuccessful frown turned into a smile as a laugh escaped from her lips. “Sorry, Sean.”
“Well, you know what, Zoya? I think you’re right. I was desperate. Desperate to do what’s right. Finally.”
The teen crossed her arms and angled toward him. Eyebrows raised. “Scooping poop is ‘right’?”
“You bet. If that’s what God wants you to do.”
“All righty then. It’s official. You are weird.”
“A good weird, I hope.” He nudged her again.
“Anyone who enjoys cleaning up the kennel must be out of their mind. But more power to ya, Sean.” She elbowed him back with a grin.
“So. Tell me about this race today.”
Her face lit up as she talked about the race, which dogs she was running, and the thrill she felt each time her sled flew over the snow. Sean enjoyed watching her animation. Zoya came out of her shell when it was time to race. It seemed to be the only time he had the opportunity to see the real kid.
Of course, it didn’t hurt that he caught a glimpse of Anesia every now and then as well.
It was obvious, mother and daughter were in love with the sport. And he would do everything in his power to keep those smiles on their beautiful faces.
Permanently.
* * *
ANESIA
January 22
Fairbanks, Alaska
10:00 a.m.
Anesia pulled more gear out of her truck, hinting to the other musher to move on. But no such luck today.
“So, you running the Rondy this year?” The man gripped his travel mug with both hands.
She shook her head and kept working with the harnesses.
“Of course, you are. That was a dumb question. You’ve won it the past few years, haven’t you?” His nervous chuckle hovered in the air.
“Yep.” Why wouldn’t he just leave? Every race, the man made a beeline for her. To make stupid conversation. She had no idea why he even entered any of the races, he was always dead last.
“Looks like your daughter is followin’ in your footsteps too.”
“Uh huh.” She hated making small talk. Especially before a race. What she wouldn’t give for Sean to come back about now. She slammed a door on the truck a little too hard, attempting to get rid of some of
her frustration.
It didn’t work. Ugh. Would they fine her if she just punched the guy in the nose?
“Do you have plans for that weekend?”
“What?”
“Plans. For the Fur Rendezvous?”
“Of course. I just told you, I’m racing.”
“Got any time for any social activities?”
“Huh?”
“You know, like—”
“Hey, Anesia.” Sean jogged up to her. “Zoya’s got you all ready to go.”
His timing was perfect. She smiled at him. “Good. Thanks.”
Sean reached out a hand to the other musher. “Good morning. I’m Sean Connolly.”
“Carl Fagan.” A frown now etched the man’s face. “I guess I better get back to my dogs.”
“Nice to meet you, Carl.” Sean’s grin stretched even wider as he laid a hand on Anesia’s shoulder.
“You too.” Carl mumbled and moved away.
Anesia couldn’t help the laugh that sprang out of her as she watched the man walk away. She gave Sean a playful swat on the shoulder. “You deserve a raise.”
“Whatever for?” Those green eyes twinkled down at her.
“You know perfectly well, Mr. Connolly. And thank you.”
“You are most welcome, m’lady.” He winked and bowed. “My gift is rescuing damsels in distress.”
Twenty minutes later Anesia found herself out on the trail. Her draw had been a good one—she’d left first, so there wouldn’t be anyone to pass. That meant she could run Tornado as her lead dog. He was by far the best and fastest leader but a horrible passer. Which meant a good majority of the time, she didn’t get to race him because she was the fastest and needed to pass. Sometimes several times during a race.
As she blazed down the trail, her thoughts drifted back to Sean. He’d had entirely too much fun teasing her about her admirers. Warmth flooded through her as she remembered how she flirted with him. What had gotten into her? But she’d enjoyed it. Maybe a little too much.
Reaching into her pocket, she searched for another Fireball to suck on. She’d crunched the last one to pieces thinking about Sean. Good grief. She wasn’t a teenager anymore.
The fiery hot cinnamon hit her tongue, and she crinkled the wrapper back into her pocket. The thrill of the race and the trail disappearing beneath her sled made her want to go faster.
Anesia whistled to her dogs. Faster. Faster. The sled surged forward as the dogs lunged and picked up speed, their tongues lolling out the sides of their mouths.
She laughed to the wind. The dogs loved speed as much as she did.
Samson’s head turned to the right to peer at Goliath as if to say, “Ha ha! Watch this!”, and in the process the dog stumbled and got a snout full of snow. The team continued on, but Samson was tangled.
“Whoa.” Anesia flipped down the tread-like mat and pressed with her foot to help slow them down. If it weren’t the middle of a race, she’d be laughing at her dogs’ antics. Sean was right. They were just like little kids.
Once they stopped, she grabbed her snow hooks and set them with lightning speed. As she approached her team, she recognized Samson’s common dilemma. His leg was over the neckline.
She ran back to the sled as soon as the tangle was undone and pulled up her hooks. “All right!”
Tornado took off and the rest of the team followed. Another great day on the trail. Even with the tangle, she’d make great time. They were flying.
Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. Was that a man behind that tree?
She shook her head. Too much stress the past few weeks. And too many thoughts of criminals. Her imagination must be running wild.
But at the next mile marker, she swallowed her jawbreaker.
Another man.
With a gun.
The finish line flew by in a blur. Jenna, Andie, and Sean all ran for her. But the image of the man by the tree haunted her. Had she dreamed it? Maybe her imagination went overboard. No. She’d definitely seen two men. One had glared straight at her.
Threatening.
Anesia glanced all around at the spectators as her dogs came to a halt. Andie rushed to greet her team with lots of petting and rubbing behind the ears. No one in the crowd looked suspicious. They were all happy. Cheering. Smiling. Laughing.
There were no guns.
No harsh expressions.
No stiff forms.
Jenna wrapped her arms around her. “I’m so proud of you! You did it again, my friend. Another great time.”
“Thank you.” The words felt rubbery as they fell out of her mouth.
Jenna pulled back, kept her hands on Anesia’s shoulders, and squinted. “What’s wrong?”
Anesia let her gaze roam the crowd again.
“Anesia, what is it? Are you okay?”
All eyes shifted to her. Her anxiety over the men she’d seen landed in her gut like a boulder. Her paranoid mind wanted to protect Zoya at all costs.
“Where’s Zoya?”
Andie looked up from the dogs, “Her race started just a minute or so before you came in.”
Anesia gasped. No.
Jenna grabbed her arm. “It’s okay, I know the new rules are different, but we were all there to cheer her on. She had a great start, so let’s get you over there to watch her.”
Breathe. Just breathe. Her lungs grabbed for air. “Okay.” Those men weren’t real. Couldn’t be. She refused to believe it.
Zoya was already out there. Racing.
Oh, God. Protect my child.
* * *
DETECTIVE SHELDON
On the banks of the Chena River
11:01 a.m.
Dave stared at the sight in front of him. Two more bodies. Bloody. Frozen. All in black.
“No IDs, sir. But they’re both armed. Heavily.” Sergeant Williams shook his head.
“Were their weapons fired?”
“No, sir. Not one shot.”
“So they weren’t threatened by whoever killed them. Otherwise, they would’ve defended themselves.”
“Nope. Quick and point-blank range.” The new sergeant stood with hands on his hips then crouched down beside one of the deceased. “Two shots each. One to the head, one to the chest.”
Dave walked around the bodies, viewing all angles. Senseless violence. The murder count in less than a month topped the count from his first year in North Pole. These two were different though. He hated to think what it meant. “Check ballistics against each of those guns. I bet one of them is the murder weapon from a few weeks ago.”
He walked away and let his men do their job. Dialing in the now familiar number, he waited for Agent Philips to pick up.
“We’ve got a development.”
* * *
ZOYA
11:09 a.m.
“Haw!” We swished to the left and sped on. Cold air burned my cheeks and dried out my eyes. Even with the thick gloves, my hands were as ice.
And I loved it.
It’s so good to be back on the tracks. I smiled. “Come on, guys. Just a little faster!”
Trees zoomed by. The snow slid underneath my sled as we raced on. It couldn’t get better than this.
But what if something happens? My smiled faded. What if there was someone waiting for me? Waiting to kill the witness? What if I witnessed another murder? What if I was murdered?
No! God wouldn’t let that happen.
Would He?
Why would He be concerned with me anyway? He hadn’t been before . . .
I caught sight of the two racers ahead of me. One had started four minutes before, the other two minutes. If I could pass them, my time would be awesome. The dogs must have sensed it as well. I
gained on the two racers in front of me and shook my head. Do. Not. Get. Distracted.
“Come on, guys! You can do it!” I leaned in close to my handle as we sped on. All I needed to do was get over to the side and zoom past. Time to call trail.
“Trail!”
The team closest to me pulled to the side and slowed to a stop to follow correct racing rules. I tossed a wave over my shoulder.
One more. One more pass.
The other kid in front of me looked over his shoulder.
“Trail!” I shouted over the dogs.
He had no choice but to pull aside and stop.
But as my team passed, I caught a blur in the trees.
Zoya, stop! Focus!
I raced on by and smiled. My time would be great. Not just great . . . Awesome!
“Come on, Morphine! Go, Percocet! Faster, Ibuprofen!” I looked behind. Just watch, Dad, I’ll win this race for you.
Five, six, seven minutes ticked by. “Come on, guys! Let’s win this thing! Come on!” Faster and faster we went. The trees seemed like big white and green blurs as we flew by at twenty miles an hour. Snow fell, but only enough for me to see a haze of tiny white specks here and there.
We gained speed. The dogs panted, but I could tell they were just as happy as me to get back to racing. “Come on, you can do it!”
We passed the five-mile marker.
“Come on! Let’s go, come on! One more mile!” Morphine picked up the speed even more.
Within moments I could see the finish line.
“Come on, Morphine, just a little farther!”
People’s cheers filled the air.
We crossed the line.
The dogs slowed, and Mom ran over, her face glowing.
I looked to the big digital clock.
Zoya Naltsiine: 22 minutes 58 seconds
I smiled.
My draw had me leave third, so that was four minutes into the clock time, which meant I did the six-mile run in 18:58. An average of about three minutes and ten seconds per mile.
Race Against Time: A Novel Page 14