“Don’t put too much wood in!” I holler after him.
“It’s the stove!” he counters.
“No, it’s definitely the operator.”
Tyler is already spreading a thick layer of straw for his dogs and doesn’t seem to notice me approaching.
An unexpected spike of nerves stirs in my stomach as I watch him. “I guess your goals weren’t too lofty.”
“Hey, Crusader.” He looks up briefly and meets my eyes, allowing me to see the heavy bags under his. “I told you I would make it here first.”
I ignore the nickname, crouching to greet Tank with a head scratch. His panting is hot against my cheek. “What are you going to do with your big prize?”
“I promised it to Reed.”
I can’t keep the surprise from my voice. “You’re giving Reed $3000 in gold nuggets?”
“Yeah. He deserves it.” A curious frown touches his brow. “Why?”
“No reason.” Reed probably does deserve it. He must spend a lot of time with the dogs. “So is he your nephew or cousin?” Tyler referred to him as family.
“Brother.”
They must be fifteen to twenty years apart. “Wow, that’s a big age difference between you two.”
“Yup.” He drops the last pile of straw beside me for Tank. The other dogs have already settled in their spots, waiting for their meals. “He’s a good kid.”
“He seems like it.” A bit nervous around us but at ease with his canine companions. And I sense that’s all the information I’m going to get about Reed.
“So, how’d we look coming in?”
I’ve never been this close to Tyler. Now, I admire his features. The bridge of his nose is perfectly straight and ends in a pointed tip that flatters. The painful-looking crack on his chapped lips doesn’t detract from their fullness.
He’s staring at me.
Waiting for my answer.
“Good. You look good,” I mumble. “I mean, the dogs look good.”
“Good.” Yet still he hovers there.
It’s another long second before I realize he’s holding out the dog diary, waiting for me to accept it. That’s why he’s looking at me like that.
“Oh! Right.” I snatch it from his hand, my cheeks burning as I bury my head in the pages of veterinarian notes. “You still have your full team.”
“And it’ll stay that way, if they can handle it.”
“Really? You’re not going to drop any near the end?” Even the top mushers will leave a few dogs in that last stretch. Fewer dogs means less time taken out of the race to care for them when every minute counts.
“Not if I can help it. They’ve all worked hard, and they all deserve to finish the race.” He scratches the jet-black dog’s head on his way past.
We work quietly as we get the team settled. I focus on my routine examination, pulling my stethoscope out to check each dog’s heart and lungs, gums, paws, and joints, earning myself plenty of licks in the line.
Tyler is busy rubbing down each dog’s muscles and smoothing ointment on their paws to keep the pads from getting chapped. “So, I’ve always been curious, who was it that cut through my gate? You? Or your animal control friend?” He fastens the insulated jacket on the blond husky again.
His tone is casual, but his question makes me wary. “Why? You want to send a bill?”
“Relax.” He chuckles. “I’m just wondering how far past the line Marie the Crusader is willing to go for the sake of an animal?”
I shift to the black swing dog, pressing my stethoscope to his chest. “As far as I’m concerned, there is no line.”
Tyler’s silent for a moment and I feel him watching me, but I keep my focus on my patient.
“I think I like that answer.”
“Enough to take down your stupid sign?” I quip without much thought.
His lips part, but he falters on his words. “How do you know about that?”
“I may have driven out to your place to apologize the next day.”
“Really? What happened? You forgot your bolt cutters?”
An unexpected laugh slips out, and it earns me his crinkly-eyed smile.
“Better yet, you decided I didn’t deserve an apology.”
“Something like that.” I lift the dog’s lip to check his gums, and he snarls.
“Airi, settle down,” Tyler warns, adding, “He likes to make noise. Especially when he’s hungry.”
“I don’t blame you, Airi. I get grumpy when I’m hungry, too.” I stroke his neck.