Luke hadn't expected a sharp reprimand. His first impulse was to walk off. He didn't need this, but the bit about acting like a man needled him, so he stayed. He grabbed a handful of snow and packed it into a ball, then heaved it at a fence post. It splattered. “I know something has to happen. I just don't know exactly how to do it.”
“Take a step, just one step, and let God help.” Adam paused. “You know what happened with me and Laurel…”
“You guys seem fine now.”
“We are, but not because of anything we did exactly but more what we allowed God to do in us.”
Luke nodded slowly, wishing he knew how to let God inside.
Neither spoke for a long moment. Adam gazed out over the white fields. “You know, Luke, if you like Ray, you're not betraying your father. He gave up his life for Ray.” Adam laid a hand on Luke's shoulder. “Good things are never easy. I know your father would want you to let go of all the hatred you've got bundled up inside and to get along with Ray. In fact, he'd be real happy if you loved him.”
“Not so sure I can do that.”
“In your own power, no. You have to let God work. Let him in. Allow him to change you. Let yourself be willing to be made willing if that's where you have to begin.”
“Willing to be made willing, huh?” Luke smiled to himself. He'd already prayed that very thing, but nothing had happened. “I'll think on it.”
“Don't wait too long. You never know how much time you have to make things right.”
Chapter 33
PREDICTIONS WERE RIGHT. HEAVY SNOWS HAD COME TO THE VALLEY. LUKE and Ray were primed for the run to Susitna Station and back. The race promised to be tough. Temperatures had warmed and would make for a rough go.
“The snow's not looking good,” Luke told Frank, chucking pieces of dried, frozen fish into a bucket.
“Won't bother my team none. They seen worse. They're ready.” He lifted one of his crutches and gazed at his bad foot. “Wish I could go. It ought to be a hoot.” He chuckled. “But you'll come through for me. You're good with the dogs. From what I can see, they trust you. Ol' Butch'll see you through for sure. He's a first-rate lead dog.” He squinted into the sunlit yard and gazed at yapping dogs, each tethered to a small house. “Yep, wish I was goin' along.”
“I'll do my best for you,” Luke said.
“Just leave the tough stuff to Butch. He'll know what to do. Never let me down yet.” He smiled at Luke. “I'd like to see you give that ol' Townsend a run for his money.”
“I aim to.” Luke hefted the bucket. “Well, better get this feed to them.” Doubts needling him, Luke headed for the dogs. I know what I'm doing, he told himself, throwing a hunk of fish to Butch, who pounced on it. Then he moved on to the next dog. It would be a long, hard race. He'd never done anything like it before. With soft snow and thawing waterways, it would also be dangerous.
He tossed out the last portion of fish and headed back to the house. I fought in the war. Got wounded twice and made it through. Figure I can handle this.
On the morning of the race, temperatures hovered just above thirty degrees. Gray skies reached low, and the town looked as if a wool blanket had been thrown over it. Spirits were high, though, as twelve teams lined up to begin. Mushers stood four abreast in three rows. Dogs barked and whined. Many, anxious to be on their way, lunged against their harnesses. Some snapped and growled. Butch stood quietly, focused. He knew his job and kept to it.
Ray and Luke were both in the front row. Ray was driving the second team, and Luke was outside on the opposite side of the street. One team separated the two. He glanced at Ray who, with a sparkle in his eye, saluted him.
Luke didn't know how to respond, so he simply nodded and turned his attention to his dogs. He took a deep breath, hoping to relieve the tension bundled in his gut. This is just for fun. Relax. In spite of his words, the race felt important. It was a chance to show what he was made of. Although he'd been in battle and had been wounded, Luke felt as if Ray still saw him as a boy. This was his opportunity to show what kind of man he was. For reasons he didn't understand, it was important.
Frank hobbled to Luke. “I expect you'll take care of my dogs.”
“I will.”
“They're important to me. I want to win, but mostly I want you and those dogs back in one piece.” He studied the team. “They'll do right by ya'. Trust 'em. They know what to do.” Unable to disguise his own hunger to race, he clapped Luke on the back. “Good luck to you.”
“Thanks.”
Jean and Susie stood talking quietly with Ray. Jean caught Luke's eye and smiled and waved. He returned the gesture.
Standing at the side of the road, Mattie held up Mara and waved the little girl's hand at her daddy, then joined Luke. A fox ruff nearly concealed the baby's face. Luke pushed back the fur fringe and nuzzled the pudgy face. Her dark brown eyes laughed and her little puckered mouth smiled. Paternal love spilling over, he kissed her.
“We'll be waiting for you at the Little Susitna Roadhouse,” Mattie said. “I'll be praying.”
“Thanks. I'll be thinking of you two.” He glanced at Butch who stood quietly, his eyes on the road in front of him. “He's ready.”
“Be careful. No race is worth your life. And remember, I love you.”
Luke kissed her. “I love you too. And I'll be careful.”
Brian walked up and shook Luke's hand. “Have a good run.”
“I'll do my best.”
The postmaster, who was acting as the race official, walked to the end of the street. He raised a handgun in the air. The dogs knew it was time, and their anticipation carried through the reins and into Luke's hands. His anxiety fell away, leaving only keen enthusiasm. He looked at the dogs and the official, then gave Ray a glance. It felt as if time had slowed.
With the blast of the gun, the teams exploded. Drivers hollered, “Mush!” With a dissonant blast of barking, the dogs broke into a run. They pulled hard, working to break free of the pack and into the lead. Dogs, sleds, and drivers sprinted through the town, while families and fans cheered them on.
His blood pulsing, Luke felt as if he were flying. He lay out the whip, letting it snake above his line of dogs with a fierce crack. It was a moment like none other. Barking dogs, cheering friends, the slice of runners, and biting wind thrilled him. He ran behind the sled. His weight would only slow down the dogs, and it was important to get into a good position.
As they left town, Ray was in the lead with Luke three sleds behind him. Luke wasn't discouraged. They had a lot of miles to cover, and anything could happen.
Ray lifted his whip and strung it out above his team. “Mush!” He pulled away. The word around town was that his lead dog was the best they'd seen in years. The solid black-and-silver husky knew his job and did it well. He was known to be jealous and wouldn't easily give away a lead.
Luke knew the dog. He was good, and so was the rest of the team, but not better than his. “You may not want to give up your place, but you will,” he said. Continuing to run behind the sled, he yelled, “Mush!” Luke knew he had an advantage over Ray. He was younger and lighter. His weight would be less of a drain on the dogs, and his stamina would win out.
Light snow began to fall, but the temperature remained warm. Luke wished it would drop. The sled moved faster and more easily over frozen ground. Wet snow stuck to the blades, bogging down the sleds and making the dogs work harder, which meant Luke would have to run more. Sucking in cold air, he stepped onto the rails. He'd have to pace himself. With some satisfaction, he noticed Ray was also riding. In spite of the conditions, the dogs were running well. All he needed to do was to keep Ray in sight. His time would come.
