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“You almost didn’t.”
She couldn't see his lips under his balaclava but the crinkle around his eyes told her he was grinning.
He was having fun.
They were headed out into the wilderness to look for his missing father and he was. Having. Fun.
What was wrong with him?
Ellis grabbed his military-style rucksack from the cargo basket on the back of the snowmobile and slung it over his shoulder. Then he picked up a thermos and winced as he held it out. “I brought you coffee. It's probably ice coffee now.”
She ignored the offer and stalked toward her plane. “We’re behind schedule. What did you do with Peanut?”
“My brother has her.” He easily fell into step beside her, which annoyed her to no end.
Everything about him was easy. Easy stride. Easy laugh. Like he lived in a state of perpetual relaxation. It wasn't fair when she’d had to fight for everything her whole life.
“Where's our pilot?” he asked. “Hope he didn't bail on us.”
“She didn't. You're looking at her.”
“You'reour pilot?”
“This is my plane.”
“Oh.” He stopped walking.
“What?” she taunted over her shoulder as she pulled herself up into the plane. “Don't trust me?”
“Yeah, of course,” he said and quickly caught up. He swung his bag into the plane and lifted himself in.
Aleu grumbled at him.
“Hey, sweetheart.” Unfazed, he scratched her ear. She didn't bite him and, in fact, leaned into his hand ever so slightly. That was a point in his favor. Aleu was an excellent judge of character and had been known to nip at people who didn't measure up.
Norte greeted Ellis with his usual exuberance, which didn't mean much. Norte loved everyone.
The other five dogs all took turns greeting him and he gave them each his full attention.
Once the introductions were done and he settled into the co-pilot’s seat, he returned to their conversation. “I trust you. I just didn't think you had your own plane. When you said you already searched for Dad, you meant by air.”
“Yes, I’ve done several flyovers around Ophir. No sign of him from the air, which is why we're bringing them.” She tilted her head toward the dogs, then slid her headphones on and handed him a pair.
He said nothing more until they were airborne, but once again he seemed to be enjoying the hell out of the whole situation. He was a lot like Norte, she decided. Enjoyed people and every new situation was an exciting adventure. But while it was cute in the dog, it was less so in a thirty-something man.
“Only eight dogs?” he asked.
“We shouldn't need more than that.”
“Forgive my ignorance but I thought sled teams had like a dozen?”
“It depends. For distance racing, yes. Dogs can get hurt or just decide they don’t want to run anymore, so you want to start with a big team. Iditarod racers start with sixteen dogs, but they have to end with at least six. For our purposes, eight will be enough.”
“How many dogs do you have?”
“Counting the newest litter of five puppies, I’m up to twenty-nine. I’ll keep some of the puppies— two for sure— and adopt the others out or send them to other kennels.”
“And you take care of them all yourself?”
