Perrie stood on the front porch of the brides' house. She pushed the hood of her parka back, then fumbled out of the oversize mittens Burdy had lent her. She'd been in Alaska for four days and already she was climbing the walls. She could only spend so much time wandering around her cabin and eating breakfast, lunch and dinner at Doyle's. Either she'd eat herself into oblivion or she'd go stark raving mad from cabin fever.
The only choice left was to follow Milt's orders and write his blasted story about the mail-order brides. It would take her about an hour to interview the subjects and another few hours to put the story together. Considering her own feelings about marital commitment, she could at least offer a completely unbiased viewpoint.
There had never been much time in her life for men beyond a few passionate, short-term flings. It wasn't that she didn't want to be part of some man's life. She liked men-well-read men with interesting careers, charming men with clever smiles and deep blue eyes.
An image of Joe Brennan drifted through her thoughts and she pinched her eyes shut and tried to will it away. Yes, Joe Brennan was attractive. And if he wasn't so set on making her life miserable, she might consider him more than just a convenient outlet for her frustration. But when push came to shove, he was probably like all the other men she'd known. He would never be able to put up with her life-the late hours, the broken dates, her single-minded devotion to her work. And he lived in Alaska.
To be honest, after a few months with a man, she usually found herself a little bored. As a reporter, she prided herself on her ability to learn everything about a person in a very short time. Unfortunately, once she learned all she could, there was little else to talk about. A once promising relationship usually fizzled in short order. The only reason she had the slightest interest in Joe Brennan was because she hadn't been able to crack that roguish facade of his and bend him to her will.
Perrie sighed. Whoever said women could "have it all" didn't have a clue as to what it took to be a top-notch investigative reporter. She had resigned herself long ago to never "having it all." She wasn't even sure she wanted it all, considering that "all" just took too much energy to have.
A devoted husband and a loving family were fine for other women, but not for Perrie Kincaid. She had taken another road long ago, made choices that required a near solitary pursuit of her dreams. She couldn't go back and change her mind. She'd come too far. This was all she had-her work-and she was happy with that choice.
She knocked on the door, and a few moments later it swung open and she was greeted by the warm but hesitant smile of a slender blonde, one of the trio from the bar. "You're that woman visiting from Seattle, aren't you?" the woman asked.
Perrie shouldn't be surprised. Talk would travel around a small town like this quickly. She held out her hand. "Hi, I'm Perrie Kincaid from the Seattle Star. I've been sent here to interview you and the other mail-order brides. May I come in?" She didn't wait for an invitation, just shook the woman's hand firmly men slipped past her into the cozy warmth of the cabin. Experience had told her that confidence went further than manners when it came to getting a story.
She slowly strolled around the main room of the cabin, making a mental inventory of her surroundings. A few descriptive phrases to set the scene added color to human interest stories. The cabin was much larger than hers, boasting separate bedrooms and a variety of modern conveniences. She nearly moaned out loud when she pushed open the bathroom door and came upon a shower and a toilet.
"My name is Linda Sorenson," the woman said. "I must say, I was startled to find a woman at the door. All our guests have been men."
"I can imagine," Perrie murmured, recalling the scene at Doyle's. "I'm here to write a follow-up to the original story published in our paper." She stopped to stand in front of the fire. When her hands were warmed sufficiently, she turned and faced her subject. "This is a very nice cabin. There are three of you living here?"
Linda smiled, then rearranged the magazines on a scarred coffee table. "The others are out back. Would you like a cup of coffee?"
Perrie couldn't help but put aside her professional demeanor. Linda seemed so friendly, and right now she could use all the allies she could find, since Brennan had most of Muleshoe watching her every move. Maybe the three brides could offer some help in her escape plans. "Sure," she said with a smile, pulling her notepad from her pocket before she slipped out of her jacket. "I'm having trouble adjusting to the cold so anything warm would do." She made a few notes and waited until Linda returned from the kitchen with the coffee, then sat down across from her on the sofa.
Linda smoothed her palms along her legs. "What would you like to know?"
"Why don't you tell me why you decided to come to Alaska?" Perrie asked after taking a sip of her coffee.
Linda took a deep breath then let it out slowly. "It's hard to explain without sounding a little silly. Do you believe in destiny, Miss Kincaid?"
Perrie glanced over the rim of her mug. "Destiny?"
"One day, I was looking through the newspaper. I rarely have time to read the paper. I'm a nurse and my schedule is rather hectic. But I had time that day and I saw the ad for brides. I knew that I had to come to Alaska. I just felt as if something-or someone-was waiting for me here."
Perrie sighed inwardly. It did sound a little silly. "Actually, I'm not a big proponent of destiny. I think a person determines their own future. Fate doesn't have anything to do with it."
"Have you ever been in love, Miss Kincaid?"
Perrie paused, not sure how-or whether-to answer the question. What did her love life have to do with the story she was writing? She was the one asking the questions. Besides, she wasn't sure she wanted a complete stranger to know that Perrie Kincaid, a highly intelligent thirty-three-year-old woman, wasn't even sure what love was.
"Why don't we stick to your story?" she said lightly. "Why are you so sure you want to get married?"
"Because I know I'd be really good at it. I want someone to share my life with, I want to fall in love and have children and grow old with a good man."
"And you expect to find that man here in Alaska?"
"Why not? He could be here. The odds are good."
Perrie smiled. "But the goods are kind of odd, don't you think? Besides, how do you know your destiny isn't waiting for you in Newfoundland?"
Linda smiled. "Well, if I don't find him here, I'll just have to keep looking."
"There are other things in life besides marriage, aren't there?"
"Sure there are. And I'm not necessarily set on marriage. But I'm never going to give up on finding love."
Perrie considered her words for a long moment. Was she missing something here? She'd never considered love very important at all. In fact, she considered men more trouble than they were worth. Was that because she could put such a crazy emotion in perspective? Or was it because she'd never come close to feeling that emotion?
"So you hope to find love here in Muleshoe? And what will you do if that happens? Are you going to give up your career in Seattle and move up here?"
Linda smiled. "I don't know. That's what's so exciting about this whole thing. I'm not really sure what's going to happen until it does. I'm enjoying the journey as much as the destination."
Perrie stared down at her notepad. All of this sappy stuff was not going to make a story, unless she was writing it for one of those romance magazines. She glanced around the room, then back at Linda. A long silence grew between them, broken suddenly by the sound of the front door opening.
The other two brides stumbled inside, laughing, their jackets covered with snow. Perrie stood and watched as they tugged off hats and mittens. They both turned to her and regarded her with curiosity until Linda stood and made the introductions.
The tiny brunette, Allison Keifer, spoke first. "I didn't know we were going to be interviewed again. We would have been here earlier but we've been practicing."
"You have to practice finding a husband?" Perrie asked, leaning forward. Maybe there was something to this story.
"No," Mary Ellen Davenport replied, giggling. She was a prettily plump woman with pale brown hair and a sparkling smile. "We're practicing for the Muleshoe Games. They're having a brides' competition next weekend, on Valentine's Day. We compete in all sorts of things-snowshoeing, dogsledding, wood chopping."
"I suppose it's so these men can see what kind of wives we'll make," Allison said. "But we're just going to have fun. And there's a nice prize for the winner. A weekend up at the resort at Cooper Hot Springs. Everything's included, the room, the flight, the-"
"The flight?" Perrie asked. "Someone's going to fly the winner out of Muleshoe?"
Linda nodded. "And after the games, there's a dance at Doyle's. Are you interested? The brides' competition is open to any single woman."
Another plan began to form in Perrie's mind. She could train with the brides and win the event and at the same time get a nice angle on the story. And once she escaped Muleshoe, she'd be able to find her way back to Seattle and finish a story that really mattered. "Sure," Perrie said. "I think I'd like to enter the games. Tell me more."
"You'll need to practice if you want to win," Mary Ellen said. "There are a few single women from town who are entering. Ringers, I say. They'll be tough to beat You can practice with us."
"Or you can get one of those dishy bachelors from Bachelor Creek Lodge to help you," Allison teased. "You're staying there, aren't you?"
Perrie nodded.
"Lucky girl."
Perrie arched her eyebrow. "Lucky?"
"That's bachelor central. Three of the dreamiest guys in Alaska and they live up there."
"If you're counting Burdy as a bachelor dreamboat, you've definitely been in the wilderness too long."
"Oh, no. Not that Burdy fellow. I'm talking about Joe Brennan and Kyle Hawkins. And there's another one, but he just got married-Tanner is his name, I think. Linda had a date with Joe Brennan the night we arrived here."
Perrie tried to look indifferent but her interest was piqued. Leaning forward, she asked, "He didn't waste much time, did he?"
"He took Allison out the night after that," Linda countered.
"He asked me out, too," Mary Ellen admitted, "but I had a previous engagement."
"He was really charming, but not the marrying type," Linda commented.
"Charming," Perrie repeated.
"He's just so sweet and attentive," Linda continued. "And funny. And cute, too. He has this way about him. It's hard to explain, but it makes you want to tear off his clothes and drag him into bed."
"Mel Gibson eyes," Mary Ellen observed.
"A little boy in the body of a man," Allison added.
"But definitely scared of commitment. A one-date wonder."
"Then you both went to…" Perrie couldn't finish the question, a strange surge of jealousy stopping her words.
"Of course not!" Linda cried.
"Though I was tempted," Allison added. "Those eyes of his could melt a girl's panties."
Perrie scolded herself silently. What right did she have to be jealous? Or envious? She'd pegged Joe Brennan as a ladies' man from the moment she'd met him. A confirmed bachelor who used his charm and good looks to make women weak in the knees and breathless with adoration. Even she hadn't been immune.
At least she was smart enough to see Brennan for what he was. And clever enough to keep her distance. Though it hadn't been too hard, considering she hadn't seen much of him lately.
Linda laughed. "It took Allison about three days to evaluate every bachelor within a twenty-mile radius. She's got this down to a science."
"I believe in being thorough," Allison said. "After all, I'm the one who has to look at him across the dinner table. I only want the best."
"The only one she can't figure out is Hawk," Linda teased.
Perrie glanced up from her notes. "Kyle Hawkins? Brennan's partner?"
"They call him Hawk. And he's the only man who hasn't said a single word to her," Mary Ellen said. "He reminds me of Gregory Peck in that old movie… I can't remember the name."
"Mary Ellen never remembers the names of movies. And if you ask me, that Hawk is a little too quiet," Linda said. "Maybe he's hiding a tortured soul."
"I haven't met him yet," Perrie admitted. "I'm not sure I want to. Brennan is enough to deal with."
"You're a reporter," Allison said. "Find out all about him and then tell us."
Perrie slowly closed her notepad. "I'll make you a deal," she said with a conspiratorial grin. "You teach me how to chop wood and walk on snowshoes and drive a dogsled, and I'll report back on the mysterious Mr. Hawk."
Mary Ellen giggled. "This is going to be so much fun! Just like that old movie where the three girls go to Rome and find love. The one with the fountain? Only this is Alaska and there are four of us… and no fountain."
"I'm not in this to find a husband," Perrie quickly explained. "All I'm interested in is the trip out of Muleshoe."
Joe pulled the front door of the lodge closed and dropped his sunglasses over his eyes against the sundrenched snow. The days were getting longer and the bitter cold that had marked all of January was beginning to release its grip. It would be months until the river broke up and spring came, but they were halfway through winter now and there was an end in sight.
A curse split the silent air and he turned and glanced up at Perrie's cabin. He'd spent the past five days flying supplies into the bush and hadn't had time to check on how she was doing. She and Burdy had become friends and the old guy had taken her into town for meals, but beyond that, Perrie Kincaid had been keeping herself busy with her own activities.
To tell the truth, she wasn't nearly as much trouble as he first thought she'd be. She'd obviously come to the conclusion that there was no way she'd be able to get out of Muleshoe and had decided to make the best of her free time. He casually strolled up the path toward the cabins, a satisfied smile curling his lips. He had won this little battle between the two of them and he couldn't wait to gloat.
As the cabin came into view, he caught sight of Perrie, lying in the snow, her feet up in the air. A stab of concern pierced his mind and he wondered if she'd really injured herself this time. But then he noticed she was wearing snowshoes.
"Hey!" he called. "Are you all right?"
Perrie turned over on her side and regarded him with thinly veiled hostility. Her hair was caked in snow and her face was wet. She looked as if she had taken a header into a snowbank. "Go away!" she cried. "Leave me alone!"
Joe stood over her and couldn't help but laugh. She looked so darn cute, all covered with snow and ready to explode with anger. "What the hell are you doing?" he asked, holding out his hand to yank her to her feet. He turned her around and brushed the snow off her backside. It wasn't until he'd pulled his hand away that he realized how intimate the contact actually had been.
"I'm practicing," Perrie said, twisting away from him and finishing the job herself.
"Falling into the snow?"
"No, Mr. Smarty Britches, snowshoeing. It's just that these things are so big, and I'm supposed to try to move as fast as I can, but my feet get all tangled up. It's like running in swim flippers."
"Why do you have to move fast?" He paused, then held up his hand to stop her reply. "Let me guess. I assume you aren't planning to run a footrace with a stampeding moose, so I'm going to have to surmise that you've decided to walk to Fairbanks?"
She tried to move away from him, but one of her snowshoes caught the edge of the other and she began to lose her balance again. He reached out and grabbed her elbow, but as soon as she righted herself, she pushed him away. "I'm going to enter the Muleshoe Games next weekend. And I'm going to win that trip to Cooper Hot Springs. And once I do, I'll be out of Muleshoe for good."
Joe laughed, the sound echoing through the silent woods. "You're going to win the brides' competition? You're not even a bride-to-be."
Perrie bristled. "I'm a single woman. And I'm a reasonably fit individual. I work out… sometimes. You don't think I can win?"
"Not a chance, Kincaid."
Perrie bent down and fumbled with the leather straps on the snowshoes. She lost her balance again and tumbled back into the snow, but this time he didn't help her up. She wrestled with the snowshoes until she'd managed to pull both of them off, then scrambled to her feet. "You just watch me," she said, her chin tipped up defiantly. "I've been practicing splitting wood and I'm getting pretty damn good at it. I've actually hit the log twice with the ax and I've only been practicing for an hour."
She stalked around the side of the cabin and returned with an ax and a log as if to prove her point. He watched her push the log into a snowdrift before she hefted the ax up on her shoulder.
"Be careful with that," he warned. "Should you be doing that with your sore arm?"
"My arm is fine. Besides, I know what I'm doing."
"You should set that up on top of a harder surface before you-"
"I don't need any advice from you!" Perrie snapped, raising the ax.
Joe watched as she brought the ax over her head. But he could see that her aim was seriously off. Instead, she swung to the right of the wood and buried the ax in the snowdrift, continuing down until the blade hit rock beneath the snow.
"Eeeoow!" she cried, snatching her hands back, stung by the impact. She jumped up and down and rubbed her palms together, her eyes watering with the pain. Finally, unable to handle the ache, she sat down in the snow.
"I told you-"
"Oh, zip it!"
Joe grinned and sat down across from her, then reached out and pulled off her mittens, then his gloves. Slowly, he rubbed her fingers between his hands, working his way up through her palms to her wrists. "There's a rock border all around this porch."
"Thanks for warning me."
"It feels worse in the cold."
Her fingers were warm against his, tiny and delicate. Her nails were trimmed short and unpolished. He wouldn't have expected a perfect manicure from a woman as practical as Perrie, especially since she didn't wear a lot of makeup, either.
She had a natural beauty all her own. Her ivory skin, now touched with pink from the cold, was perfectly smooth. Impossibly long lashes framed her clear green eyes. And her mouth, that wide mouth with those lush lips. He'd found his attention drawn to her mouth again and again, remembering the kiss they'd shared.
His gaze lingered on her mouth for a long moment. "Is that better?" he murmured.
She didn't answer and he looked up into her eyes to catch her staring at him. He wasn't sure what came over him, but the next thing he knew, he bent forward and covered her lips with his. She fell back into the snow and Joe stretched his body over hers, groaning at the feel of her soft form beneath his.
He rolled her over in the snow, pulling her on top of him and holding her face between his palms, afraid that she might break their kiss before he was ready. But she seemed to have no intention of pulling away.
Gently, he explored her mouth with his tongue, tasting and teasing. For an instant, rational thought returned and he wondered just what he was doing rolling around in the snow with a woman who wanted nothing more than to make him look like a fool.
But the truth be told, Joe liked the way she kissed. She didn't go all soft and breathless in his arms, but instead she kissed him as if she were truly enjoying the experience. He'd never known a woman who had tempted him so sorely, yet managed to drive him crazy at the same time. She was a challenge, and Joe never walked away from a challenge.
He pulled her beneath him once more, his lips never leaving hers, an intimate contact that he didn't want to break. His mind swam with images of her and he couldn't help but draw back and look down at her.
Her eyes were closed and her lips moist, parted slightly. The cold had turned her cheeks pink and snow-flakes still dusted her auburn hair. Her lashes fluttered, but before she could look at him, he brought his mouth down on hers again. A soft sigh escaped her lips and she wriggled beneath him, arching up against him.
In all of his life, he'd never met a woman he couldn't charm-until Perrie Kincaid. Clever compliments and boyish grins just didn't work on her. She preferred the direct approach, like a spontaneous kiss in the snow-a kiss that was growing more passionate as time passed.
He tried to refocus on the feel of her mouth against his, but strange thoughts pressed at his mind. Why was he so attracted to her? He'd always preferred women who were sweet and biddable, not sharp-tongued and prickly. More likely, the challenge was in simply trying to get the upper hand with Perrie in their ongoing battle of wills. She was the last woman he should involve himself with… the last woman he should want.
Perrie must have read his mind, for at that moment, she pulled back and looked up into his eyes, her brow furrowed in confusion. Slowly she regained her sense of reality and her gaze cleared. She cursed softly, then pushed him off her. "What do you think you're doing?" she demanded.
Joe braced his hands behind him. "The same thing you were doing."
"Well, stop it!" Perrie brushed the snow off her jeans and jacket, then jumped to her feet.
"Are you sure you want me to stop?" Joe asked.
"I certainly don't want you kissing me anymore!"
Joe leaned back on his elbows and grinned at her. It wasn't hard to see that the kiss affected her as much as it did him. "Why? Afraid you were enjoying it?"
With a growl of frustration, she snatched up a handful of snow and threw it at his face, then turned on her heel and headed to the front steps of her cabin. "I didn't enjoy it. How could I enjoy it? I'd rather… stick my tongue on a frozen doorknob than kiss you again."
Joe stood up and brushed the snow from his clothes.
"Well, Kincaid, I'm sure you and the doorknob would have plenty in common."
She narrowed her eyes and glared at him, her gaze colder than the snow creeping down the back of his jacket. "Just stay away from me."
"You'll never win the competition. You're a city girl, Kincaid. You can't handle the wilderness. You're not cut out for it."
"What? You don't think I'm tough enough? Hey, I took a bullet in the arm to get a story. I'm a lot tougher than you think."
"All right," Joe conceded. "Though I consider a bullet in the arm for some damn newspaper article more stupid than tough."
"I'll win, if only to prove to you that I can."
"And if you do by chance win, I'll let you go to Cooper."
She braced her hands on her waist and kicked snow at him. "You'll let me go to Cooper?"
"Hey, I'm responsible for your safety, Kincaid. And I take my responsibilities seriously. But if you win, you can go to Cooper. I won't stand in your way."
"Damn right you won't stand in my way. I'll run right over you, Brennan. My footprints will be all over your chest."
Joe laughed. "Are you threatening me, Kincaid?"
"Just stay out of my way," she warned. She turned and hustled up the porch steps, but tripped along the way. With a vivid curse, she clambered to her feet and finally made it inside, slamming the door to punctuate her anger.
Joe sat in the snow for a long time, chuckling and shaking his head. If there was one thing he liked about Perrie Kincaid, it was that she always managed to surprise him. He'd never met a woman who could kiss him like a wanton one minute, then threaten to do him grave bodily harm the next.
Perrie lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Afraid to move, almost afraid to breathe, she clenched her teeth and prepared to push herself up. This was all Joe's fault. If it wasn't for his taunting the day before, she wouldn't have spent three hours yesterday working on her wood splitting.
She had tumbled into bed at sundown, crawling under the quilts to warm herself. Burdy arrived an hour later to take her to supper, but she could only call to him. Now, after a good night's sleep, she expected to feel refreshed. Instead, she felt as if she'd been run over by a cement truck, then rolled around in the hopper for good measure. If she hadn't been able to see her arms in front of her, she would have sworn they'd been pulled from their sockets and tied in a bow behind her back.
"Up," she muttered to herself. "Up, up, up."
Gritting her teeth, she rolled over and managed to rise to a sitting position, the pain streaking through her limbs. A hot bath would do much to relieve her aches and pains, but she wasn't sure she had the energy to drag the tub inside and fill it.
Her feet hit the cold floor just as a knock sounded on the front door. Wincing, Perrie stood up. Maybe she could sweet-talk Burdy into filling the bathtub for her. The crazy old guy seemed intent on making her stay as comfortable as possible. "Hang on, Burdy. I'm coming."
But Burdy McCormack wasn't the only one waiting on the other side of the door. A stranger stood on the porch, his long dark hair fluttering in the wind. She suspected the man that watched her with an indifferent expression was the notorious Hawk.
"Joe tells us you're goin' to enter the Muleshoe Games," Burdy said, hopping from foot to foot excitedly. "And then you're goin' to write about it in yer paper."
She winced, then rubbed her forearms. "I thought I'd give the games a try," she said, surprised by Burdy's interest. "As long as I'm stuck here. Besides, it would be a good angle for the story."
Burdy held out a folded sweatshirt and a cap, both with the Bachelor Creek Lodge logo emblazoned on them. "Well, you got yourself a sponsor, Miss Kincaid. Me and Hawk are goin' to train you, get you ready for the games."
Perrie smiled and shook her head. "I don't think Joe would approve."
"Well, we won't tell him, then," Burdy said. "Besides, I think it would be good publicity for the lodge. It's not every day we can git our names in a big city paper. We will git our names in the paper, won't we?"
Perrie contemplated Burdy's offer for a long moment. Though she could practice wood splitting and snow-shoeing on her own, she had serious doubts that she'd be able to hop on a dogsled the day of the games and win the race. "If you and Hawk help me train, then I guess I could mention the lodge and my trainers as many times as I can in my article."
Burdy's head bobbed up and down and he laughed, the sound like a cackling chicken. "That's a deal, then. You git yerself dressed and meet us at the dog pens. Hawk is goin' to teach you how to mush."
Perrie wanted to beg off, to plead for a day's rest. But she had only one more week to train, and she couldn't pass up the opportunity to get behind the controls of a dogsled. Besides, Hawk did not seem like the type of man to tolerate any wimpy excuses about sore muscles and aching backs. "I'll be right out," Perrie said.
Hawk held up a pair of fur boots he'd been holding behind his back. "Mukluks," he said, as if that were all the explanation needed.
Perrie hesitantly reached out and took the gift from him. Stumbling around in the oversize boots Burdy had given her had been as exhausting as the wood splitting. And she suspected that it hadn't helped with her snowshoeing, either. "Thank you," she said softly, sending Hawk a grateful smile. "I really need these."
He didn't say more, just turned around and strode down the front steps. Burdy nodded, then ran after Hawk, leaving Perrie to wonder at their true motivations. Joe had made it clear that he didn't encourage her participation. But she had every right to enter the brides' competition-and every intention of winning first prize.
It was no small feat to get herself dressed, but she managed. As she tugged on the mukluks, she sighed in delight. Made of leather and fur, they were incredibly soft and warm and they fitted her feet perfectly. She imagined that her snowshoeing would improve immediately.
Fifteen minutes later, she found Burdy and Hawk at the dog pens. They stood near the sled, a simple invention made of bent wood tied with leather thongs. Burdy hustled toward her, then patted her on the shoulder. "You listen to Hawk, now. He'll teach you all you need to know."
"You're not staying?" Perrie asked.
"I got to go check my traplines," he replied.
"But, I-"
"Don't be scared of him," Burdy said in a quiet voice.
"He don't bite." With that, the old man hurried off, his cheery whistle breaking the still silence of the woods.
Perrie turned to Hawk and forced a smile. "So, where do we start?"
Hawk cocked his head and she followed him over to the dog pens. He opened the door, wading through the pack of jumping and barking dogs. "Come on," he ordered.
Gingerly, she stepped inside the pen. She'd never been a big fan of animals, especially in numbers greater than one. Her childhood hadn't included any pets except for a goldfish or two and an ant farm.
Hawk pointed to a huge white husky. "Loki," he said. "Lead dog."
"He's very… cute," Perrie commented, giving him a sideways glance. "So, how long have you known Joe Brennan?"
Hawk ignored her question. "Grab his collar and bring him to the sled."
Perrie's eyes widened. She could picture herself grabbing at the huge dog, only to have the husky eat her arm for lunch. The other dogs bumped and jostled her for attention, but Loki stood apart from the pack, watching her suspiciously. "Don't be a wimp," she murmured to herself.
Slowly, she approached, holding out her hand. "Hi, Loki," she said in a soft voice. "You're a pretty doggy. And a nice doggy, too. You're not going to-"
"Come, Loki!" Hawk's sharp command startled her and she jumped back as the dog moved toward her. But rather than attack her, the husky bounded to the door of the pen, and stood at Hawk's side.
Chagrined, Perrie followed the dog, then took his collar and led him out of the pen. She watched as Hawk demonstrated the process of putting on the dog's harness and hitching that harness to the towline. He pointed to the next dog, and this time, emboldened, she stepped inside the pen and grabbed the second husky.
"Come," she said firmly. The dog fell into step beside her and patiently allowed her to put him into the harness. She clipped him onto the towline and repeated the procedure over and over. Hawk watched her silently, allowing her to make her own mistakes. By the time the last dog had been harnessed, she felt confident in her abilities.
She brushed the snow off her jeans and straightened, waiting for Hawk to compliment her, but he stood silently, arms crossed over his chest. Perrie cleared her throat. "Why are you helping me with this?"
Again, she felt as if she were talking to a brick wall-a very handsome brick wall with penetrating gray eyes and a profile that had been sculpted by a master.
"Are you doing this to bust Brennan's chops?" Perrie asked. "Because if you are, I'm behind you one hundred percent."
Hawk bent down and showed her how to operate the snow hook, then guided her onto the runners of the sled. He stood behind her, their bodies nearly touching, his arms trapping her on the sled. She expected at least a minor reaction to his closeness. After all, he was an incredibly handsome man.
But she felt nothing, not even a tiny measure of what she experienced when Joe Brennan touched her. She bit back a silent curse. What was it about Brennan? Of all the men she'd known, he had the capacity to make her heart race and her breath disappear. And he also had the capacity to kindle her temper as no one had ever done before.
"Mush, Loki. Mush, boys. Hup, hup." The thirteen huskies darted forward until the towline snapped taut.
The sled jerked forward, and suddenly, they were skimming across the snow. Her thoughts of Joe forgotten, Perrie laughed out loud, holding tight to the sled for fear that she might fly off.
"Gee, Loki! Gee!"
The lead dog veered off to the left and she felt Hawk shift behind her, balancing the sled during the turn. She added her own weight to the turn, then smiled as the sled smoothly straightened and continued down the trail.
"Haw, Loki! Haw, boys!"
This time the sled turned to the right. Perrie cataloged the commands, carefully studying the way Hawk maneuvered the sled. They made their way down to the Yukon on a narrow trail and then circled back to the lodge. When Hawk called "Ho!" to the dogs, bringing them to a stop, she felt a sliver of disappointment.
He stepped off the back of the sled and Perrie moved to do the same, but he shook his head. "Try it on your own."
She blinked. "Really?"
He nodded.
Perrie drew a deep breath and pulled up the snow hook. "Mush!" she called. "Mush!" This time the dogs took off at an easy lope.
At first, Perrie was tentative, afraid to urge the dogs any faster. But after she'd called them through a series of curves in the trail, she shouted an enthusiastic "Hup, hup," and they responded with a burst of speed. Without Hawk's weight on the sled, it seemed to fly across the snow, and she had to take the turns very carefully to avoid losing control.
All around her, the woods were silent, only the squeaking of the sled runners and the shuffle of the dogs' paws to break the crystalline stillness. She completed the circuit from the river to the lodge three times, until Hawk waved her to a stop. Breathless, she hopped from the sled. "That was wonderful!" she cried. "I can't believe it was so easy."
"It isn't always easy. There are open creeks and fallen trees and moose that want to share the trail." Hawk moved to the front of the sled and began to unhitch the dogs.
Without a second thought, Perrie hurried to do the same. "I'm not sure that Brennan would approve of this," she ventured.
Hawk raised an eyebrow but didn't look at her. "Why is that?"
"Since I got to Muleshoe, Brennan has decided that I'm somehow too feebleminded to know what's good for me. He thinks he's protecting me by ordering me around. But he's driving me crazy."
"You confuse him," Hawk said.
Perrie opened her mouth to question his comment, but he turned away before she could speak.
"Now we feed the dogs," he said.
She trailed after him. "Wait a minute. What do you mean, I confuse him?"
"Just what I said." He handed her a pair of five-gallon buckets. "Go up to your cabin and fill these with water."
"He confuses me," Perrie said. "One minute he's yelling at me and the next he's throwing me down in the snow and-" She stopped short, aware of the flush of heat that slowly crept up her cold cheeks. "I-I just don't know what he wants from me. I can make my own decisions. If I want to return to Seattle, I should be able to-without asking his permission. Right?"
Hawk studied her for a long moment and she thought he might agree with her, or even explain the complexities of Brennan's behavior. "Water," he finally said, nodding to the buckets.
With a resigned sigh, Perrie trudged up to her cabin to fill the buckets. If Kyle Hawkins and Joe Brennan were such good buddies, just why was Hawk helping her?
Maybe he didn't approve of the way Joe was treating her, either. He seemed like a reasonable man, though it was hard to tell. He said only enough to get his point across and no more. But he was a good and patient teacher. The only thing she couldn't discern was whose side he was on.
One by one, she carried six buckets of water back to the dog pens. When she was finished, Hawk showed her how to mix the food for the dogs. In addition to regular dog food, she added bits of cooked moose liver and dried fish to the huge bowls, then stood outside the pens and watched as Loki and his pals greedily lapped up the feast.
"We'll train again tomorrow," Hawk said, staring down at the dogs.
"Why are you doing this?"
Hawk shrugged. "Nothing better to do," he said, turning to walk toward the lodge.
Perrie hurried after him, falling into step beside him, struggling to keep up with his long-legged stride. "If you really want to get to Brennan, you'd help me find a way to get back to Seattle. You must know another pilot who'd take me back. I'd be willing to pay you."
"Have the dogs hitched by noon," Hawk said, lengthening his steps until he was well ahead of her.
Perrie stopped and watched his retreat, cursing softly. It was clear Hawk was standing firmly on Joe Brennan's side. And he wasn't going to be any help at all in her quest to return to Seattle.