Читать книгу Alaskan Fantasy - Elle James - Страница 6

Sam leaned against the wall of the crisp, clean hospital room, awaiting his chance to speak to Paul alone.

Kat leaned over her brother and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Her dark hair slid across his chest in a cloud of ebony waves. “I’m going to get some coffee.” Kat tucked the blanket up around Paul’s shoulders.

“About time,” he grumbled. “You’d think I was dying or something with everyone hanging around like vultures ready to pick my bones clean.”

“Come on, Tazer. Let’s get that coffee we promised you hours ago before my inconsiderate brother decided to play the kamikaze musher.”

Paul threw an empty pill cup at her. “Out!”

Kat grabbed Tazer’s arm and ducked through the open door.

“See what I have to put up with? I practically kill myself and she thinks I did it on purpose.” Paul shook his head, a grin teasing the corners of his lips.

Sam envied the camaraderie between brother and sister. He let the good vibes chase away the bad as he steeled himself to tell Paul what really happened back on the trail.

By the time Emergency Medical Services arrived, Paul had regained consciousness and insisted he was fine. But because he’d been unconscious and there seemed to be damage to his ankle, they’d hauled him to the hospital. Kat rode alongside him in the back of the ambulance.

Sam stayed behind, insisting Vic and Tazer join Paul at the hospital. He’d taken the snowmobile and gone back out on the trail to retrieve his sled.

When he brought it back to the barn and gotten a good look at it, his heart ran as cold as the frozen river Paul had fallen on.

“What’s wrong?” Paul asked, breaking into Sam’s reverie. “Look, I must have been too close to the edge. It’s not your fault I crashed.”

“In a way it was.”

Paul shook his head, a teasing look lifting the corners of his mouth. “I insisted on taking your sled. Apparently I wasn’t ready for its superior speed and maneuverability.”

“Paul, you don’t understand.” Sam held up a hand, stopping Paul’s attempt to make him feel better about something that should never have happened. “That crash was no accident.”

“What do you mean?” Paul punched the button adjusting the head of the bed upward.

“The stanchions had been cut clean through.”

Silence followed as Paul’s forehead wrinkled into a deep frown. “You sure they didn’t break in the crash?”

“No, they were sawed at the base except a tiny piece to hold it temporarily.” Sam’s mouth tightened. “Someone did it deliberately. Someone who knew what to cut that wouldn’t be obvious.”

“Why?” Paul pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose.

“I don’t know, but that crash was intended for me, not you.” Sam jammed his hands into his pockets and paced across the room and back.

“Assuming you’re right and someone actually sabotaged your sled, it could just as easily have been mine. Yours sits next to mine in the barn.”

“Correct, but everyone in Anchorage likes you.” It was true. Sam hadn’t met a soul in the city who had a bad word to say about Paul. “I’m the outsider stirring up trouble for the state.”

“I bust people all the time. It could have been someone I put in jail,” Paul argued.

“Yeah, but you don’t have an entire political venue riding on your work.” Or a past that might have caught up to him. Sam shrugged the thought away. No. He’d assumed a different identity when he’d left the agency. No one knew him by his new name or where he was except his old boss, Royce. As far as Sam was concerned, Russell Samson no longer existed. His old employer had helped him change all his records, even arranging for his name to be altered on his social-security card and Stanford University diploma to reflect his new identity.

“You’re a geologist, not a politician, for Pete’s sake.” Paul scooted into an upright sitting position, wincing as he moved.

“That ankle still hurt?” Sam asked.

“Yeah.” The dark-haired man’s lips twisted. “I’m waiting for the doctor to come back with the results of the X-rays.”

“Think he’ll bar you from the race?” Sam wished he hadn’t let Paul borrow his sled. None of this would have happened—at least not to Paul.

Paul’s forehead creased in a frown. “He’d better not. I’ve invested too much time and money to be excluded.” Paul glanced up. “Any of your dogs injured?”

It was just like Paul to worry about the dogs more than himself. “No. They were fine. A little spooked, but once I untangled their necklines, they were raring to climb back up on the trail and run.”

“Who would tamper with your sled?” Paul’s brows furrowed. “Do you think it was another race contestant?”

“I can’t imagine another musher considering me any kind of threat. I’m a complete rookie at mushing.” Sam shook his head, the scent of alcohol and disinfectant starting to make his stomach churn. “However, I have so many people mad at me about the study, it could be anyone.” His work in the interior had people up in arms on both sides of the political fence. On one side were those who wanted to open up more of the Alaskan interior to roads and progress. On the other side, the environmentalists were fighting tooth and nail to leave it relatively untouched.

“When do you head back to Washington?” Paul asked.

“After the race.” A smile lifted his lips. “Senator Blalock is chomping at the bit to complete the study and get on with making a decision about oil production in the interior.”

“Have you let on to anyone about the results?” Paul leaned forward. “You think the word leaked out?”

“I kept a pretty tight rein on the information. Blalock got a heads-up that the samples weren’t good. Unless he let it slip to some bonehead in Washington, I don’t know who else would know.”

“It’s too bad you can’t let it out. At least the tree huggers would be off your back.”

“Yeah, but Blalock is pretty rabid about finding oil out there. He was the one who got me hired on in the first place.”

“It would be a big coup to bring in more oil to the country. I wouldn’t think he’d be behind the sabotage, would he? Seems he’d be your best friend.”

“Only if the results are what he wants to see.” Sam pushed a hand through his hair. “Maybe I should pull out of the race altogether. The officials don’t need more of a liability than they already have.” And he didn’t like not knowing who was after him.

“Are you kidding?” Paul’s eyes widened. “You’ve worked as hard as anyone to prepare. No way. You’re going.”

“But if someone is after me, I’ll only bring more trouble to everyone else in the race.”

“Assuming someone is after you. Remember, my sled was next to yours. It could have been mine they meant to get. Especially since I plan to win the race this year.” Paul leaned back and stared at the ceiling. “I wonder who would think they could only beat me by sabotaging my sled. We need to tell Kat. This is just the kind of puzzle she’d like.”

“I’d rather not.” Over the past two years, Sam had studied the pictures scattered around Paul’s log cabin, pictures of Kat fishing, pictures of her with the dogs or behind a sled. Sam felt he knew more about her just from pictures than actually in person. She looked small but tough, feminine yet strong. A product of her upbringing.

Sam couldn’t admit to Paul he’d harbored a secret attraction to Kat after hearing all the stories of their childhood in Alaska. Meeting her hadn’t changed a thing. In fact, his respect grew even more because she didn’t fall apart when Paul came in unconscious. Leanne would have called the ambulance and wrung her hands, carefully so as not to damage the expensive manicure.

No, Kat was down-to-earth and tough. From what Paul had told him, she had to be. She was in a dangerous business in some secret government organization. Paul had compared it to the CIA.

Sam suspected her job might be with the Stealth Operations Specialists, the business he’d been in while working in D.C. He could find out with a single phone call to Royce, but he refused to make contact with his old life.

Getting on with the S.O.S. wasn’t easy. Kat had to have earned her position there for a reason and it wasn’t based on her appearance. Although she’d left the room, Sam could still picture her jet-black hair as full and rich as Paul’s and eyes as blue as glacier ice in the sunlight. If looks were all it took to get the job, she’d have gotten it hands down.

The woman foremost in his thoughts stepped through the door carrying two cups of coffee. She handed one to Sam and smiled. “Thought you could use a jolt.” The smile transformed her otherwise serious face into a softer, more feminine version of her brother.

Sam got the feeling she hadn’t smiled much over the past year. He remembered when Paul had flown out to D.C. to be with Kat at her husband’s funeral a year ago. Had Marty been an agent, as well? Paul had come back saying Kat was okay, but Sam could tell Paul worried about his only sibling. And rightly so, judging by the dark circles beneath her eyes.

“Thanks.” When he took the cup from her, their hands collided and an electric jolt speared through his system.

Kat’s gaze shot up to his and just as quickly turned away. “Mind if I turn the television on?”

“Go ahead.” Paul adjusted his pillow behind his head. “The local station is airing stories on each of the race contestants. Maybe we can size up the competition.”

“You don’t think you’re racing still, do you?” Kat’s brows rose and a hand fisted on her hip.

Paul’s smile faded. He looked like a boy being told he can’t go out to play. “My dogs are ready for this race. They deserve to participate.”

“Maybe so, but we haven’t even heard from the doctor. I don’t think you can stand for twelve to fifteen days on that ankle.”

Paul crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not ruling it out until the doctor tells me different.”

Sam would have smiled at the argument if he hadn’t been so disturbed by his reaction to Kat’s simple touch. He’d only just met the woman.

“They’re kinda cute, aren’t they?” Tazer leaned close to Sam, a grin playing across her model-perfect face.

She was gorgeous, but she reminded Sam too much of Leanne. He was immune to her kind of beauty. “Yes, she is,” Sam responded. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he realized his mistake.

Tazer’s lips twitched, but that was the only acknowledgment of Sam’s slip. “Kat’s had a rough time of things.” Her gaze swept to the woman arguing with her brother.

Sam took the opportunity to study Tazer while she wasn’t looking in his direction. Did she work with Kat? Was she also an agent with the S.O.S.—assuming that was where Kat worked?

Though Sam wanted to ask all the questions spinning around in his mind, guilt nudged at his conscience. He didn’t feel right talking about Kat with her standing only a few short steps away, but he couldn’t help asking, “Is she still grieving for her husband?” He tried to tell himself he only cared out of mild curiosity.

“A little. I think his death shook her more than even she’ll admit. Since then, she’s been in a fog, like she doesn’t know what she wants out of life. I’m glad she decided to come home.” Tazer nodded toward Paul. “She needed her family.”

Her family was still arguing with her. “My dogs will be in that race if I have to strap myself to the sled. I’m going.”

Kat planted both fists on her hips, twin flags of red rising in her cheeks. “You couldn’t drive the sled with a good foot, much less a broken one, otherwise you wouldn’t be in the hospital now.”

Sam’s pulse quickened. This Kat was like a mama bear ready to take on the world to protect her cub. The determined stance and the heightened color made her even more beautiful than the pictures he’d stared at on the wall of her home.

“Tell her, Sam,” Paul demanded.

He didn’t want to be dragged into their domestic dispute. “Tell her what?”

“Tell her it wasn’t my fault.” Paul waved him forward. “Tell her why I crashed.”

For some reason he couldn’t fathom, he didn’t want to get into the details of the accident. He resisted becoming another case to Kat. She was here on vacation, not to play investigative agent for a little prerace sabotage. Besides, Sam was fully qualified and capable of conducting his own investigation.

Kat’s gaze pinned him, her eyes narrowing to slits. “Yes, please. Tell me why my brother crashed.”

The direct look caught him off guard and he replied without hesitation. “The stanchions had been cut.”

Her surprised gasp turned into an angry frown. “What did you say?”

In a flat tone, devoid of emotion, he explained, “The struts holding the runners to the brushbow were cut at the base. It took a couple jolts and a sharp curve before they broke completely.”

Paul crossed his arms over his chest and smiled. “I just happened to be on it at the time. So you see, it wasn’t my fault.”

Kat stared from Paul to Sam. “Who would do such a thing?”

Sam raised his hands. “I didn’t. It was actually my sled that was cut. Paul was trying it out at the time.”

“You’re telling me this was deliberate?” The intensity of her gaze held his steady.

Sam nodded, his gut clenching at the memory of Paul lying unconscious at the bottom of the riverbank.

“Who would do such a thing?” she repeated with more righteous indignation, her blue eyes blazing.

“Looks like we’re having a party in here,” the doctor said from the open doorway. “Mind if I speak to the patient in private?”

“No, of course not,” Kat said, yet she made no move to leave. As Sam passed her, she grabbed his arm. “We’re not through talking about this.”

That jolt struck him again. “Count on it.” Sam stepped out into the hallway, shaking his arm as if he could shake free of the feeling of Kat’s fingers touching him so easily.

“So, Sam, who’s got it in for you?” Tazer joined him in the hospital corridor, closing the door behind her.

“Any number of people. I’m a geologist working oil exploration in the interior. People will either love what I’m doing, or hate it. No one straddles the fence.”

Her eyes widened. “Oil and drilling are definitely hot topics with our current dependency on Middle Eastern sources.”

“Between the environmentalists wanting me out and an Alaskan senator demanding that I give him the answer he wants, I’m pulled in two different directions.”

“Either of which could have a motive to hurt you.”

“Not to mention, the race on Saturday.”

“Are there any competitors afraid you might win over them?” Tazer asked.

“I can’t imagine someone thinking I was any kind of competition.”

“You never know how the competitive mind works.”

“Whatever. Paul shouldn’t have been the one in the hospital. If I hadn’t loaned my sled to him, he’d be fine.”

She tapped a finger to her chin, her gaze running his length from head to toe. “And you would have been in the hospital or dead.”

Sam inhaled a deep breath and let it out. “Yeah. Which leads back to the question of who.”

“THE DOCTOR ONLY wanted to see me.” Paul glared at Kat.

“As your only family, I need to hear what he has to say.” Kat reached for his hand, refusing to take no for an answer.

The doctor’s expression was too serious to be good news. He slipped an X-ray film into the lighted board on the wall and pointed at a bone close to the ankle. “You have a fracture in the medial malleolus.” He turned to look at Paul, his face set in stern, no-nonsense lines. “You have a broken ankle.”

“So?” Paul’s face set in a stubborn frown. “Big deal. It’s just the ankle.”

“So—” the doctor glanced toward Kat briefly before leveling a hard stare at Paul “—you can’t run the Iditarod on that fracture.”

Paul’s hand squeezed Kat’s hard. “Are you sure? You’re not mistaken? Look at it again.” He pointed at the film.

“I’m certain. I recommend a cast and elevating your ankle for the next week to keep the swelling down. Six weeks in the cast ought to allow sufficient healing time.”

“Six weeks?” Paul shouted. “I don’t have two days to heal.”

Kat patted his hand. “I think you missed the part where the doctor said you’re not racing on Saturday.”

“Since there is minimal swelling, I’ll send the order up for the casting materials and have you fixed up in time to go home this afternoon.” The doctor made notes on the chart and then looked up. “I’m sorry, Paul. But you need to take care of that bone and let it heal.” On those parting words, the doctor left the room.

A long silence followed. Kat didn’t know what to say to make it better. Paul trained hard all year long just to be in the Iditarod. To be so close to the race and not go was a fate almost worse than death to her brother. Kat knew. She’d been in several of the races and gone through the rigorous training with the dogs. She could feel Paul’s disappointment like a palpable ache in her chest. “Look, Paul. There’s always next year.”

Paul’s frown was fierce. “The dogs deserve to be in the race this year.” He looked up into her face. “You know how much they love it.”

“I know, and I know how much you love it. But you can’t.”

“Damn.” For a long moment he stared at the wall. Then he grasped her hand, his face brightening. “I can’t do it, but you can.”

“No. Don’t even think about it.” She tried to pull her hand free. “What did that doctor give you for pain, anyway?”

“Only a little painkiller. I’m thinking straight, sis. You have to do it.”

“No. I’m here to rest and relax. Not to spend two weeks in the freezing cold.” Despite her protests, Kat felt a thrill of excitement flow through her veins. She hadn’t felt that kind of kick since before Marty died. And it felt good. But still…“No. I haven’t trained. The dogs won’t be used to me. It’s impossible.”

“If you don’t do it for me, do it for Sam. If someone is after him, he’ll need protection. That’s what you do, isn’t it?”

Her heart stopped when she thought of Sam, the man she’d heard so much about from her brother in every e-mail, letter and phone call. The man who’d found his way into the family while she was out gallivanting around the world playing secret agent. Still, Sam cared about Paul, and Kat couldn’t fault him for that.

But he made her nervous. With his sandy-blond hair, gray-green eyes and a voice so smooth and penetrating it affected the functionality of her kneecaps. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be anywhere near him. Marty had been dark and dangerous. Sam was everything Marty wasn’t. He looked like the boy next door on steroids. His rugged outdoor tan and muscles would be enough to make her heart leap if she weren’t still grieving for Marty. Okay, so the pain of Marty’s death had faded quite a bit, but that didn’t mean she was ready to jump back into the meat market of dating.

No. Being around Sam would not be good for her at this time. She’d been too vulnerable for too long. A place she hated being. Vulnerability wasn’t something Jenkinses did well.

“You kinda like him, don’t you?” Paul asked softly, grinning.

“No.” But her no wasn’t quite as definitive as before. She jerked her hand free of her brother’s. “I have to get back and help Vic with the dogs. Call me when they have you all patched up and ready to come home.”

“What?” He raised his hands. “You’re not going to stay and hold my hand through the trauma of getting a cast? What kind of sister are you?”

She picked the paper cup off the floor where it had landed earlier and threw it at Paul’s head. “Your worst nightmare.”

“I knew that.” His easy grin spread across his face. “But you’re going to do the race.”

The man was obviously high on some kind of painkiller to think she’d jump into a race she hadn’t trained for. She left the room in such a hurry, she bumped into Sam on his way in.

Her face flamed and she cursed herself, knowing how red she could get. She ducked her head and turned her back on Sam. “Tazer, you ready to go back to the house?”

“Whenever you are,” she said, her posture as relaxed as it was poised to handle anything.

“Oh, I’m ready, all right.” Ready to get away from her brother and the man who’d gone into the room after she left. So what if he might be in trouble and needed her kind of protection. “What part of off duty doesn’t he understand?” she muttered.

“Are you expecting an answer?” Tazer glanced down at her perfect nails. “Because if you are, the answer is an S.O.S. agent is never off duty.”

Trust Tazer to put it all in perspective. Kat rolled her eyes. “Thanks.” She layered a boatload of sarcasm into the one word.

“You’re welcome.” Tazer stared across the shiny tiled floor at Kat. “I haven’t seen you this animated in a long time.”

“Comes from being surrounded by crazy Alaskans and an insane brother.”

“He’s kinda cute, isn’t he?”

Tazer’s sly smile sent warning signals through Kat. “He’s my brother.”

“Yeah, him, too, but I was thinking more of Sam.” Her gaze pinned Kat’s.

The woman was fishing. But she wasn’t going to catch anything in this pond. “If you like the boy-next-door look. Me, I prefer a man with more mystery.”

“So, does that mean you’re finally thinking about other men?”

The spunk went out of her spine and Kat sagged against the wall. “No. I’m not thinking about dating other men.” Although Sam sprang to mind, uninvited.

“I didn’t say date. I said ‘thinking about.’” Tazer’s lips twitched.

Kat sighed. “Think…date…whatever.”

“Look, Kat, you’re intelligent, pretty and too young to give up on love. Don’t let Marty’s death take you out of the running completely.”

“Says the woman who swore off men even before she graduated high school.” As soon as the words left her lips, Kat regretted them.

Tazer straightened, her lips firming into a tight line. “I have good reasons.”

“I know.” Kat pushed off the wall and laid a hand on Tazer’s arm. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

Tazer had been raped when she was only sixteen years old. Not many people knew that. Tazer had sworn from that point on, she’d never be in a position where a man overpowered her again, and she’d lived up to her own promise.

Kat squeezed her arm. “You deserve to find love more than I do. I had it once.”

“This isn’t about me.” Tazer shrugged off Kat’s hand. “It’s about you. Don’t think you can sidetrack me into discussing my love life.”

Kat snorted. “Or lack thereof.”

“You took the plunge once. It was good, but he died.”

Kat winced. “Could you soften it up just a little?”

“No. You need the cold hard truth. Just because Marty died doesn’t mean you have to die with him. He was full of life and excitement. He’d want you to go on.”

The back of Kat’s throat closed and she fought for control. “I know. Just don’t push me. I’m not ready.”

Tazer’s gaze softened. “Fair enough. I’ve been known to be pushy on occasion.”

Kat barked a shaky laugh. “Try all the time.”

“I wouldn’t be such a pushy bitch if I didn’t care.”

“I know.” Kat smiled. She couldn’t ask for a truer friend.

Tazer was known for her straightforward, call-it-like-it-is lack of sugarcoating. But she was there when Kat needed her. “What’s the doctor’s verdict on your brother?”

“He’ll live, but he can’t race on Saturday or anytime in the next six weeks.”

Tazer frowned. “I guess that means you’ll be taking up the reins or whatever it is you call the steering wheel on a dogsled, huh?”

“Handlebar,” Kat answered automatically before she thought through what Tazer said. She threw her hands in the air. “What’s with you and Paul thinking I’m ready to jump into the race from hell after barely arriving in the state?”

“Look, sweetie, you can deny it all you want, but you know you love it. That’s all you used to talk about when you first came to the agency.”

“Was I that bad?”

“Worse.” Her smile softened her words. “I learned more than I ever wanted to know about dogs, sleds and mushing. If you don’t do this race, I’ll kick your butt from here all the way back to D.C. Besides, it’s your duty to be there in case tall, blond and gorgeous gets into trouble.”

“If I do this race—and I’m not saying I will—it’ll be because of the sabotage, not because I want to race.”

“You say potato, I say potahto. As long as you get the job done. I’ll let the boss know you’re on the clock.”

“Great, one more person to twist my arm on this.”

“You don’t need to race.” That deep voice that made her knees act funny spoke from the doorway behind her. “You haven’t been training. It wouldn’t be advisable.”

Kat spun to face Sam, her heart hammering faster than was warranted. “You don’t think I can make it?” Wobbly knees stiffened and her jaw firmed.

“Paul should know better than to throw you into a race you’re not ready for.”

Her hackles rose but she kept her face pokerstraight. “Don’t you think I’m capable of making my own decisions?” She planted a sweet smile on her face, ignoring the scent of his aftershave, a tantalizing aroma she tried to tell herself she didn’t even like. But she’d be lying.

He stood with his feet slightly spread and his arms crossed over his chest. “It’s your funeral.”

Who did this Norse god think he was, telling her she couldn’t hack a little eleven-hundred-mile race? Forcing confidence she really didn’t feel, she smiled up at him. “Thanks.” Then she turned to her brother, her blood slamming through her veins. “If it’s all the same to you, bro, I’ll be taking your dogs on the Iditarod.”