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First, Brielle Ives. Then he’d face the demons of his past.
Baby steps.
A quick Google search on the plane ride north had given him the address for the kennel, but no more information on Brielle Ives other than a sparse bio. Unlike other sled dog kennels that ran on tourist funds, sponsorships, and donations, she seemed to do it all herself. She had a Facebook page for the kennel, but if she had a personal page, he couldn’t find it. He couldn’t even find a picture of her online, which was weird.
Who didn’t have an online presence nowadays?
Then again, this was Alaska. America’s last frontier. Land of the weird and eccentric. The kind of people attracted to its long, cold nights were usually looking for solitude. They were breaking free from their former lives. Escaping. Hiding.
What was Brielle Ives escaping?
His rental truck rattled ominously as he guided it under the sparse wood sign announcing Faraway Kennel. Peanut squeaked her displeasure from the seat beside him. She was still in her soft-sided travel crate, but he’d unzipped the top so she could poke her head out. She did so now, giving him a fair bit of side-eye.
“Sorry, Your Royal Highness. I couldn’t afford a better rental after your vet visit and supplies and then the plane ticket here.”
She squeaked indignantly again and slid sideways in her carrier as they bounced over a particularly large pothole. He winced, scooped her up with one hand, and tucked her into the front of his jacket. She settled right in. If she were a cat, he had no doubt she’d be purring. His jacket seemed to be her happy place. In truth, it was his happy place, too. He loved feeling her tiny body against his chest and knowing she was safe.
How this weird little dog had managed to firmly wedge herself into his heart in the last twenty-four hours was a mystery, but now he couldn’t imagine his life without her.
Darkness fell fast like it always did during winter in Alaska, but up against the mountains like this, it happened in the blink of an eye. One minute, sunlight. The next, you’d better have a flashlight handy. It was right on the cusp of that darkness as he parked in front of a barn that needed a new coat of paint ten years ago. He could pick out a small log cabin squatting next to the barn and some fencing looped around the yard at the back of the barn. The house was dark and quiet, but light spilled out of the barn, soft yellow and inviting.
He slid out of the truck and smiled at the chorus of howls filling the air. Not the mournful howl of a lone wolf, but the excitement of a pack at play.
Happy dogs.
He loved nothing more than seeing happy dogs and followed the sounds.
While the barn looked shabby on the outside, inside was immaculate. It had once housed horses, but the stalls had been converted to dog runs. Each run had a doggie door leading to the fenced-in area outside.
Nice set-up. Lots of room and the dogs could choose whether they wanted to be in the barn or their little log cabin dog houses outside.
The happy barking came from deeper inside and he followed until he found a large circular arena meant for training horses. Brielle Ives had converted it to an agility course and play area.
And there she was, playing tug with a beautiful husky with a graying muzzle and bi-colored eyes. He counted twelve dogs, all husky or husky mixes. Some red, some black and white, and one all-white female with striking blue eyes. They all watched from behind the fence, barking and howling, while Brielle unsuccessfully tried to get the rope back. Her agility training had apparently been interrupted by a spontaneous game of tug.
Peanut squirmed against his chest and before he realized what she was doing, she leaped out of his jacket. In the few seconds, she was airborne, his heart all but stopped. Visions of tiny broken legs flashed through his mind. Where would he even take her if she broke her legs? He didn’t have the money for surgery. The last two days had all but wiped out his meager savings.
But she landed like an Olympic figure skater, all style and grace. Ten points.
He barely had time to breathe out a sigh of relief before she sent him into another panic attack by racing into the arena. All of the dogs stopped to watch as she charged toward Brielle Ives and the big dog with mismatched eyes.
Brielle gasped in surprise and stumbled backward, letting go of the rope. Peanut jumped up and grabbed the dangling end. Her tiny growls were the only sounds in the arena as everyone—human and dog—watched in confusion.
Well, not confusion on Ellis’s part. More like horror. That dog was big enough to eat Peanut in one bite and she was challenging him for control of the rope?
Jesus.
“Peanut!” His voice came out strangely high-pitched, like he’d been kicked in the balls and was singing soprano. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Peanut, stop!”
Brielle whipped around, her eyes widening in shock before she tugged her scarf up over her face. “Who are you?”
“Ellis.” He was so focused on trying to get Peanut away from the other dog, he didn’t realize that his name was probably not enough information until she asked, “Who?”
The dog with the mismatched eyes sat down heavily and his brows drew together, a crease forming between them. At least he didn’t seem inclined to eat Peanut. If anything, he was bemused by her insistent tugs on his rope. He wasn’t giving off any danger signals. No flattened ears, no growling, no raised hackles. He just watched his tiny challenger with a cocked head and an expression that said,Huh?
Ellis relaxed and refocused on the conversation. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Who are you?” Brielle enunciated each word.
