I grip my steering wheel and consider my options. The driveway is a mile long. It’ll take me at least ten minutes to jog it—likely more, with stops. That, plus the twenty-minute drive here, speeding along the dirt roads, and if I have to take her to the clinic to operate …
I could still call him and have him come out …
But all I can think about is Reed’s shaky voice as he described the lodged puppy and how helpless he sounded, and how Tyler might react to one of his lead dogs—one of Mila’s dogs—dying during labor if complications persist.
I throw my truck in Reverse and back down the road, and then, giving myself all of two seconds to reconsider, I jam my foot against the gas and grit my teeth.
The hinges on the aluminum farm gate snap on impact, the pieces flying out of the way. I speed down the driveway, hoping I’m not already too late.
*
Nala licks my fingertips and then dismisses me to lie on the fresh towels as five puppies burrow into her underbelly. The body of the sixth puppy—the first to be born and the one that got lodged sideways in the birth canal, prompting Reed to call me in a panic as Nala’s struggle dragged on—is wrapped in a towel and set in a box until Tyler comes home and decides where he’d like to bury him.
It always pangs my heart to hold a lifeless creature in my palm, but all things considered, I’m content to sit in this little room in the barn, listening to the rain pelt the roof while I steep in my relief.
“That never happened with the other dogs.” Reed sits across from me, his face grim, his arms tucked around his body. This experience has rattled him.
“You’ve seen a lot of puppies born?” Tyler mentioned Reed’s parents—Mila’s father and stepmother—being avid mushers themselves.
“Fair amount. They always just came out.”
“I’m sure the dogs giving birth didn’t think it was so easy. But you were right to call me.” I reach out and gently scratch Nala’s head again. She doesn’t so much as twitch at my invasion of her space. “She’ll be fine.” Aside from the first pup, the others delivered without issue.
“You don’t have to stay. I mean, I know you’re busy with people and animals and stuff,” he stammers. “I just mean, if you have to go, it’s okay. I’m good now. I can take care of them from here.”
“I know you can.” I sense that Reed takes great pride in his responsibility for these dogs while Tyler is away. And Jed Carling is expecting me. But Cory’s already warned him I’ll be a few hours late. “Tyler’s almost back, though, right? I might as well wait a bit longer.” I mock cringe. “How mad do you think he’ll be about the whole gate thing?”
Reed frowns, as if seriously considering this question. “He can replace the gate. He can’t replace Nala,” he says with a degree of finality that makes me smile.
“You’re right.” And if I know Tyler like I think I do, he won’t value anything above these dogs.
“He should be home any minute.” Reed checks his watch and brushes a hand through his mop of curly dark hair to sweep it away from his eyes. It’s gotten long in the last few weeks and could use a cut. If I could get him to my place, I’ll bet Vicki would love to take her scissors to it.
Reed’s cheeks flush, and I realize I’m staring at the poor kid.
“Tyler told me this was your sister’s team?”
He nods toward the exhausted new mother. “She was Mila’s favorite. Her and Tank.”
“Did you get to see Mila a lot, growing up?” How well did they know each other, living on different sides of the world, years apart, sharing nothing more than a father?
“Not a lot, no.” Reed smiles then, and it’s such a boyish, genuine grin, with a hint of a dimple in his left cheek. “She used to call me all the time, though. And I went to Finland to visit her once. Tero and Anja invited me. That was a good time.” The words tumble from him now, that veil of timidity that normally holds him back lifting. But the smile slips away as easily as it came, replaced by a pensive look.
“I’ll bet you miss her. I can’t imagine losing either of my sisters like that.” No matter how big a thorn in my side Liz may be, her absence would leave a gaping hole ten times larger, filling up with regret for all the ways we should have been better to each other.
He bobs his head, the move sending his hair falling into his eyes again. He pushes it away.
“Tyler told me you want a team to mush? Maybe these pups will end up on your team.”