Across A Thousand Miles. Nadia Nichols

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СКАЧАТЬ wouldn’t go there if I were you, Ellin,” Sam advised his wife. “Rebecca knows her own mind.”

      “Thank you, Sam,” Rebecca said.

      “She can’t spend the rest of her life grieving.”

      “When it’s time to move on, she’ll know it,” Sam replied.

      “I doubt it. Rebecca’s one of the stubbornnest people I know,” Ellin said.

      “Now, just a minute!” Rebecca nudged the sugar bowl in Sam’s direction. “I wouldn’t call myself—”

      “Well, you are, my dear, and you might as well admit it. Trying to make a go of it alone here, running Bruce’s business—”

      “My business now, Ellin, and I’m doing just fine with it. Better than Bruce did, if the truth be known.”

      “It’s too much! You need help. Especially with the dogs and the tour business. What if you were out on a training run with a team of dogs and something went wrong? What if you never made it back home? Who would know you were missing? Who would know to come looking for you?” Ellin leaned over the table, her blue eyes earnest. “My dear girl, the lowest possible denominator in this part of the world is two. You simply can’t go it alone!”

      Rebecca sighed and lifted her coffee cup. “Ellin, just what are you getting at? You want me to marry this man? This stranger?”

      “He’s not a stranger. He’s Brian’s brother!”

      “This conversation is getting a little too weird for me,” Sam said, pushing out of his chair. “I think I’ll go see if I can give Mac a hand.”

      “Yes, you do that,” Ellin said, waving him away as if he were an annoying fly and turning her attention to Rebecca. “Not marriage, my dear. At least, not until you know each other a little better.”

      “Thank you for that much, at least,” Rebecca said.

      “I think you should hire him.”

      “What?”

      “Think about it. He owes you money. He told us the story about the dog food and also that he couldn’t pay Sam for the truck parts. So to work off the parts, he’s going to help Sam with some odd jobs. Maybe he could work off what he owes you for the dog food. You need a man’s help around here. He could get in your firewood, help with the tours, pick up the food in Whitehorse, help take care of the dogs—”

      “No!” Rebecca said.

      “Oh, I know what you’re thinking. Where will he live? He can’t stay in your guest cabin because most of the time it’ll be occupied with paying clients. Well, don’t you worry, I’ve thought it all out. He can stay with us. We have that log cabin the boys built. It needs some fixing here and there, but he’s perfectly capable of making it livable, and it has a good roof. He can move the junk that’s stored there into the hangar, and in his spare time he can help Sam with mechanical things, like keeping the snow machines up and running, and working on that old wreck of an airplane.” Ellin sat back in her chair with a self-satisfied smile. “Don’t you see how perfectly that would work out for all of us?”

      “No!” Rebecca repeated. “No, I don’t. If you want to hire him, Ellin, you go right ahead. Be my guest!” She nodded to give her words emphasis. “But I want no part of it.”

      SAM FOUND Bill MacKenzie wedged beneath the rear axle of his old truck, his booted feet sticking out into the snow. “Well,” Sam said, hunkering down on his heels and peering beneath the truck’s frame. “How does she look?”

      “She looks like a broken U-joint to me,” came the muffled reply. “As a matter of fact, she looks just as broke today as she looked yesterday.”

      “You’ll need to jack her up,” Sam suggested mildly.

      “Damn straight, and if I had a jack I would, but this old truck of Brian’s doesn’t seem to be blessed with one, and to tell you the truth, I think I’d rather be horse-whipped than ask Rebecca Reed if I could borrow hers.”

      “Well, now, son, I don’t see why that should bother you. Rebecca’s a good woman.”

      There was a thump, a grunt of pain, and then, with much wriggling, Mac squeezed out from beneath the truck and sat up. A thin trickle of blood ran from a gouge over his left eyebrow. “I’m sure she is,” he said, rubbing the wound and smearing it with grease. “But that woman dislikes me and I don’t blame her. We’ve hardly known each other two days and already I owe her a lot of money. I’ve never owed anybody anything in my entire life. It’s no wonder she thinks poorly of me.”

      “Oh, now, she don’t think bad of you.”

      Mac laughed. “Well, if she doesn’t, she sure puts on a good show.” He climbed to his feet and brushed the snow off his pants. “I can’t do anything without getting the hind end of this truck off the ground. I better just bite the bullet and go ask if I can borrow her jack. She probably has three or four of ’em, all heavy-duty monsters capable of lifting a Mack truck.

      “She has at least two that I know of,” Sam agreed. “I’ll ask her, if you want.”

      Mac shook his head. “Thanks. I’ll do it. Her opinion of me can’t get much lower.”

      They both heard the approaching truck at the same time, and moments later Rebecca’s old red Ford lumbered into view, plowing up a wave of snow before it. She cut the engine as she drove around Mac’s truck, opened the cab door and dropped to the ground. “Gosh! I thought for sure you’d have it all fixed by now,” she said.

      “Couldn’t jack her up,” he said. “Couldn’t find the jack…”

      “Ah,” she said, nodding calmly. “Well, I’ve got one. A good heavy-duty one.” She turned and walked back to the truck and Mac watched her, admiring the way she moved, her self-possessed grace, wishing more than anything in the world that he could do just one thing right in this woman’s presence. He saw her struggling with the heavy jack and moved to help her.

      “This is great!” he said as he took it from her hands. “This’ll do the job. Thanks.”

      “You’re bleeding,” she said.

      “Bumped my head.” He turned back toward his truck. In a matter of minutes the vehicle was jacked up enough for him to crawl beneath it with his tools and spare parts spread on an old blanket beside him.

      “How about a light?” Sam said.

      “Oh, he doesn’t need one,” Rebecca said. “He told me he could work blindfolded, he’s that good.”

      “Well, there’s a headlamp on the front seat,” Mac said. “if you wouldn’t mind passing it to me.”

      He heard her footsteps march up to the driver’s side. She wrenched open the door. Long pause. “I don’t see any lamp.”

      “Look under the stuff on the passenger’s side,” Mac called out, picturing the horror in her beautiful eyes as she beheld the heaps of trash in the cab of his brother’s truck. “It’s buried in there somewhere.”

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