Chapter 19: Thin Spot

I drove the team for twenty miles the next morning, and somewhere around mile eight I stopped counting.

The runners sang under my boots, and the sun came up gold behind the spruce.

Moose led in Mae's orange harness with Juno and Birch behind him.

All three ran.

Astrid rode in the basket with a coil of orange rope across her lap, and she did not say a word.

Every few miles she turned and looked back at me, and every time I was smiling.

I thought of Pilot only once, around mile twelve, and it hurt less than I had expected.

At the turnaround I called "Gee" and swung the team in a wide circle on a frozen bay.

The dogs panted, steam rising off their backs, and I knelt and checked each paw.

"Well?" Astrid asked.

"I want to keep going," I said, and the words surprised me.

"Not three hundred miles."

"Not three hundred miles. Just this. Every day, with you."

She took a breath so deep her coat creaked.

"Then take me home," she said, and she stood up out of the basket. "I'm driving the narrows."

We traded places on the runners, and I climbed into the basket with the rope.

Astrid stood behind me, tall and steady, with her gloved hands closed on the bar.

"Hike," she said, and her voice did not shake.

Moose pulled us down the long white channel with his head high.

The sun was up, and the ice glittered, and the dogs' feet made a soft rattle I could feel in my spine.

We came to the narrows an hour later, a stretch of channel where the banks pinched in and the pines leaned over.

"Eight inches," Astrid said, mostly to herself. "Stay in the middle."

The team ran straight down the center, and I heard her let out a small, careful breath.

We were halfway through when Moose stumbled.

Keep reading free with an account. Start Snowed In With the Park Ranger Who Hates Rangers from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.