Across A Thousand Miles. Nadia Nichols

been training,” Ellin said vaguely.

      “Yes, I know. I met him on the river yesterday. He was dragging along quite nicely behind his sled.”

      “Dragging?”

      “Yes. On his face. Oh, Ellin, you should have seen it.” Rebecca couldn’t stop the laugh that burst from her. “His dogs came tearing over that steep bank by the Mazey Creek trail, and they were flying! Next comes his sled and it’s airborne. I mean to say, it shoots out over the top of the riverbank at about twenty-five miles an hour, straight into the air, with Mac standing on the runners holding on for dear life!”

      “And then what happened?” Ellin said.

      “He crashed!” Rebecca said. “It was the most spectacular crash I’ve ever seen! I don’t know what held that sled of his together or what kept him attached to it. But I’ll say this much for him, he didn’t let go. Slamming over that pack ice must have been brutal on his poor beat-up body, but he didn’t let go of that sled.”

      “I wondered why he was limping around this morning,” Ellin mused.

      “Limping! I’m surprised he can even walk.” Rebecca wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I know it’s not the least bit funny, but I can’t help it.”

      “But, my dear, what did you do?”

      “What do you mean?”

      “I mean, didn’t you try to help him?”

      “I didn’t have to. He got the sled stopped using his snow hook and managed to climb back onto the runners. I said hello when we passed.” Rebecca grinned and took a deep breath. “I think he was in a state of shock. He never said a word.”

      Ellin regarded her for a silent moment and then shook her head. “Rebecca Reed, I do believe you have a cruel streak in you.”

      “I guess I must have,” Rebecca confessed. “I haven’t had such a good laugh in a long, long time. He’s all right, isn’t he?”

      “If he were dying, he wouldn’t say so.”

      “Maybe we should call Sadie to come have a look at him.”

      Ellin frowned. “There’s little need of that. Sadie’s been looking him over every day this week. She’s after him, mark my words. She shows up every afternoon around feeding time, because she knows he’ll be taking care of his dogs.”

      “He’s in good hands, then. I won’t worry about him.”

      “I should think you should. My dear girl, it’s not Sadie he’s interested in.”

      “Ellin!” Rebecca warned.

      “He’s a good man, Rebecca,” Ellin said staunchly.

      “Well, I don’t know about that,” Rebecca said, standing up and stretching stiff muscles. “But if he keeps on the way he’s going, he might make a good musher someday. He didn’t let go of his sled.”

      “I certainly hope you’re right,” Ellin said, looking directly at her. “Because there’s something you should know. Sam has fronted him the money to enter the Yukon Quest this year. Rebecca, Mac will be sharing the race trail with you all the way from Whitehorse to Fairbanks.”

      Rebecca froze in midstretch. “You’re kidding, right? Oh, Ellin, please tell me you’re kidding!”

      Ellin shook her head. “I wish I could, because I don’t believe he’s got the experience to run a thousand-mile race. But he believes he can. He also thinks he can finish in the money and win enough to pay you what he owes you.”

      “Is that what this is all about? The money he owes me? Does he realize how tough a race the Quest is? Does he realize he’d be lucky just to finish it? And what about the expense of running it? Does he know how much that would set him back?” Rebecca slumped back into her chair. “I can’t believe it,” she said, shaking her head. “Mac actually thinks he’s going to run the Yukon Quest. Well, he’s in for a rude awakening. The race officials will never let him enter. He’s not qualified!”

      “SO WHAT DO YOU THINK of our Sadie Hedda?” Sam asked, leaning against the Stearman’s fuselage.

      “Sadie? Oh, she’s a real good medic and a nice woman,” Mac replied, his voice deliberately noncommittal. His upper body was awkwardly wedged headfirst into the rear cockpit of the old plane. His legs were draped over the back of the pilot’s seat, and he rested the heels of his stocking feet on top of the fuselage. He was silent for a moment, trying to decide whether to carry on this personal discussion. “Well, the truth is, Sam, she’s coming on to me like a freight train, and I’m afraid if I stop running, she’ll just mow me down.” Embarrassed, Mac coughed. “Could you hand me the safety wire pliers? Thanks.”

      “Sadie’s the kind of woman who sees what she likes and goes after it,” Sam explained slowly.

      “I don’t have a problem with women going after things. I just don’t want to be gotten by her, that’s all. And I don’t know how to discourage her without hurting her feelings, but I guess there’s no avoiding that. Ah! All done! I think that’ll be just fine. You better check it over, though. Let’s see what else I can play with while I’m in here…” Mac took a deep breath. “Sam, Sadie’s a great girl, but the thing is, there’s Rebecca.”

      “I see.” Now Sam’s voice was neutral. Mac waited for him to speak again. When he did, his tone was gruff with emotion. “Rebecca’s like a daughter to us, Mac. I don’t know what we’d do without her.” He glanced into the open cockpit and shook his head cautiously. “She and Bruce were real close.”

      “Yup,” Mac said heavily. “I got that part.”

      “Sometimes, I think it’s harder for a woman to cope with grief when the death is unexpected,” Sam said. “For a long time after Bruce died, Rebecca shut herself away from everyone and everything. Didn’t eat, wouldn’t speak, just sat in that lonely cabin and stared at the wall. For two whole weeks that went on, and then one day she just got up, went outside, and started running the dogs.”

      “She’s real good with the dogs.”

      “Yes, she is. She loves those dogs,” Sam said. “In some ways, I think they saved her life.”

      “WELL, THESE SWEET ROLLS are done,” Ellin said, sliding the pan out of the oven. Why don’t you go and fetch Sam? He’s out in the hangar working on that plane of his. I swear he thinks more of that old thing than he does of me!”

      “I doubt it,” Rebecca said, reaching for her parka. “But that antique flying machine definitely comes a close second.”

      She had combed out her hair, but it was still damp, and in the frigid air the dampness crystallized as she walked across the packed snow of the yard toward the big Quonset hut. Sam always kept the old double-barrel stove roaring when he was working inside the hut, and the hangar was surprisingly comfortable even on the bitterest of days. Rebecca opened the door and slipped quickly inside, surprised to see Mac’s dogs still tethered on their picket lines. She had assumed he’d be out training.

      “I don’t know, Sam,” she heard Mac saying as she pulled the door shut behind her. His voice sounded strangely muffled, as if it was coming from inside a deep well. “I’d like to think you’re right, but I just don’t know. What I do know is that I have to pay her back what I owe her, and the sooner the better.”

      Rebecca could see Mac’s legs sticking out of the rear cockpit of the huge yellow Stearman. She could also see Sam standing near the top of the stepladder on the plane’s off side, but neither man had noticed her. “I’d like to start all over again without that big debt hanging over my head,” came Mac’s voice. “And who knows, maybe that won’t help. Maybe nothing will change her opinion of me. I seem to be in competition with a dead man and I’m losing. Do you have any idea what that does to a man’s ego?”