“Can’t a dying father share his last wish for his daughter’s happiness?”
“Oh my God, stop it!” I can’t help my laughter. “You’re not dying.”
He winces with pain. “I might, after your mother finds out about this.”
Fear that my father might say something highly inappropriate in front of Tyler urges me to explain in a whisper, “He lost his wife and unborn son two years ago.”
Dad grimaces. “Oh, now that you mention it, I do remember Grant telling me that.”
“So he’s nowhere near dating anyone, anytime soon.”
“Here!” Tyler hollers, waving. Two male paramedics are making their way down, a stretcher in hand.
Yukon and Bentley take off toward the newcomers, barking.
Tyler’s sharp whistle reins them in.
“Oh, would you look at that,” Dad murmurs as we watch Tyler collect their leashes and give them each a friendly pat. “Dogs know the good ones, Marie. Dogs always know.”
*
The sight of my father lying in the back of an ambulance brings both relief and anxiety. “I’m going to take them home and then I’ll meet you there, okay?” I holler as the paramedic is about to shut the door.
“Tell your mother it’s too late to get a refund on me,” he calls back, his voice strained.
The paramedic chuckles as he closes them in.
I shift out of the way, hugging myself as I watch the ambulance driver maneuver the wide switchback in the road so he can turn around and head toward the route to the hospital in Wasilla.
Tyler smiles. “He’s a funny guy, that one.”
“He can be.”
The dogs are testing Tyler’s grip on their leashes, but they’ve settled with each command from him.
“Here. I’ll take them. Thanks.” I reach for the leashes, grabbing them below the handle to avoid any contact. Simple hand grazes always seem to be my undoing.
Tyler watches Bentley with interest. “They were sled dogs?”
“Yeah. Retired. The owner wanted Yukon to be a sled dog, but he had other plans. Didn’t you?” I scratch his chin. “I should get them home and let my family know what’s going on.” I begin backing away. “So … thank you, for your help.”
“Just doin’ my job.” He lifts his hat off his head, only to put it back.
I stumble over a step.
Jonah does that all the time.
In fact, so many things about Tyler remind me of Jonah. He’s nowhere near as brash as Jonah can be, but there’s that quiet confidence and a deeply ingrained integrity that screams of always doing the right thing and helping where he can.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, and I realize I’m staring.
“Nothing. I’m sure I’ll see you around.” Seeing as I can’t seem to avoid him.
“I was hoping to talk to you, actually.” He steps forward, his focus drifting along the shallow valley, the result of a glacier wearing down rock between the ridges. “I’m looking for a new veterinarian.”
“Frank’s not working out?” I already suspected that would eventually be the case, given our conversation at the checkpoint.
“No, Frank and I are not working out. Our personalities don’t mesh, and the fucking guy won’t pick up his phone.”
“Never would have guessed that.”
“So, do you know of any good ones?” He’s watching me carefully, the fringe of long, dark lashes making his irises pop.
I think I know what he’s asking, but I could be wrong. I’ve misunderstood Tyler before. “What exactly are you looking for?”
“I want someone available to me when my dogs need them. Within reason, of course, but I want someone who’s going to answer their phone when I call, give advice when I need it, and come out when they need to. Someone I can trust to do what’s right by my dogs, always.”
Tyler calling me at all hours of the day and night?
Something tells me he’d be calling me a lot. Possibly more than Harry. With Harry, it’s because he’s young and inept. With Tyler, it’s because he appreciates a professional opinion.
It’d be a healthy income, I’ll admit, having two teams—one of them an Iditarod champion. Except Harry would lose his mind if he found out.
But then I’d be spending more time with Tyler, and he’s already managed to creep into my thoughts too much when he’s not in my life at all.
Yukon tugs at his leash, reminding me that we’re standing on the side of the road and my father is on his way to the hospital. I have priorities, and Tyler is not one of them.