We crest a hump and find Dad where I left him, fiddling with his glasses in an attempt to bend the wire frame back. “Is that you, Marie?” He slides his glasses on. “Oh, there you are. I was starting to think you’d abandoned me.”
I drop to my knees next to my father, my relief bringing a cold sweat to my skin. “How is it?”
“Still broken.” He offers Tyler a wan smile. “I supposed that’s not what you guys mean about leashing your dogs, is it?”
“No, but I think we can let it slide this time.” Tyler crouches on the other side of my dad, examining the protruding bone. “That’s a good break, all right.”
“I’ve been called an overachiever from time to time.”
My dad’s quippy humor is kicking in strong, which means he’s in a lot of discomfort and is trying to overcompensate.
“Help is a few minutes out. Luckily, they were in the area.”
“I hope that help is strong.” Dad scowls at the path to the road. “I tried to get up, but—”
“You didn’t.” I spear my father with a scolding glare before inspecting the wound more closely. The tourniquet seems to have done its job with stemming blood flow, but I’m more worried about infection the longer he’s sitting out here in the dirt. “At least you didn’t try to put it back together.” Stubborn old fool.
“Thought about it. Then I remembered that I’m better at setting bones on dogs than I am on humans, so I talked myself out of it.”
“That’s right. Marie told me you’re a veterinarian, too.” Tyler’s gaze flickers to me. “Like father, like daughter.”
“Once upon a time. Now I leave the animals to Marie. She’s far better at it than I ever was.” He waggles a finger between us. “Why do I get the feeling you two know each other?”
“Dad, this is Tyler Brady. He won the—”
“Iditarod! That’s right! Of course, I’ve heard that name. Both Wade and Grant talked nonstop about you.”
A genuine smile fills Tyler’s face. “You know Wade and Grant?”
“I do. They’re good men. Terrible card players, but good men.”
Tyler’s chuckle is deep and soft. “Small world, I guess.”
“Wait until they hear about this.” Dad nods to the uniform. “Looks like you lead a busy double life.”
“I have a few things on the go, yeah.”
“Well, what a day … Marie never told me you two were friends.”
“Oh no, we’re definitely not friends. Marie has made it clear that she doesn’t need any more. She has too many. No time for more, I guess,” Tyler says dryly.
I roll my eyes, even as my cheeks flush.
“Oh yes, she’s a regular butterfly, that one.” But my dad frowns curiously at me. He knows better than anyone that my calendar is always kept open for animals and my friend circle is tiny. Almost nonexistent, it feels lately.
And now I look like an ass, but it’s better than having to explain why I’m unwilling to play friends with a man I’m attracted to ever again.
An ambulance siren carries in the distance, saving me from that conversation.
“Sounds like the cavalry is here.” My dad tries to shift and winces. “Good thing. My left butt cheek is asleep.”
“How long do you think it’ll take them to make it down?” I ask, worry tugging at my nerves.
“Not long. Hang in there.” Tyler pats my dad on the shoulder before standing. He starts back in the direction of the road, radio in hand.
My father’s focus trails after him. “So, that’s the one who saved the dog from Zed Snyder’s rifle?”
“Dad!” I hiss, glaring at him. I told him that in strict confidence, never to be repeated. It’d be bad enough if the mushing community found out about his gallant dognapping. Now that I know what his off-season gig is, what would his boss do if he found out?
“Don’t worry, I haven’t said anything to anyone. What is he? Thirty-five? Thirty-six?”
“Thirty-seven. Why?”
“No reason. It’s just … that’s a good age. He saves animals and people. Not squeamish. And he sure is a handsome fellow. Polite. Nice teeth.”
I groan. “Not you, too—”
“I just don’t see why you can’t be friends.”
“It’s complicated.”
“Probably not that complicated.”
“It is. And we’re not doing this now.” Or ever. It’s bad enough I’m constantly badgered by my sisters and brothers-in-law.