Hours passed, and Luke's exhilaration faded. Determination drove him now. His back and legs ached with fatigue, his body craved rest, and his face burned from the wind and stinging snow. He'd passed two other teams. Now only one team separated him from Ray, and he was closing the distance.
The trail cut into deep snow, and the mushers moved through rounded hillsides dotted with evergreens. The hills rolled to distant cliffs and rugged mountains, whose ridges were smoothed by ponderous snowfall.
The tranquility lulled Luke toward sleep. He dared not rest. He concentrated on his dogs, the cold, and the dangers that lay ahead. He'd have to watch for overflow. Water would sometimes lie between the ice and snow of frozen lakes or rivers. A musher couldn't get wet. It could mean death. He'd also have to keep an eye out for soft ice. Some streams moved rapidly and didn't freeze, especially when temperatures were warm. The closer he got to Susitna Station, the more water he'd have to negotiate. The area was made up of a myriad of lakes, ponds, and streams.
He watched the dogs' gait. The ice and snow could damage their pads, sometimes so badly that they'd be unable to pull and would become part of the cargo instead. He couldn't afford to lose any. Plus, these were Frank's dogs. He loved them, and Luke didn't dare return any damaged due to carelessness.
Ray abruptly stopped his team. Luke and the other musher moved past him. “You all right?” Luke hollered.
“Yep. Just givin' the dogs a rest and a drink.” He saluted as Luke moved by.
I probably ought to rest my team too, Luke thought. Since Ray's stopped, I'll have time.
The other team moved out of sight, and Luke pulled off the trail. Bracing his hands on his knees, he gulped in air. Then he glanced down the trail but saw no one. Luke hauled out a bottle of water and gulped down several mouthfuls. At least the warm temperatures had kept him from having to melt snow.
When Luke returned to his position on the sled and yelled, “Mush,” he saw no sign of Ray. The snow had stopped. The clouds had thinned, lying in a blue sky like misty pools. Icy wind cut into his face. The temperature was dropping.
Luke pulled his hood closed and imagined how it would be when he pulled into Palmer ahead of Ray Townsend. His family would cheer for and hug him. A sense of triumph filled him.
Dusk moved over the empty, white world, and Luke wondered how far it was to the roadhouse. He started to look for lights. Darkness closed in, and he slowed his pace, waiting for the rising moon to light the blackness. He allowed the dogs their lead. They would follow the path. Cold closed in with an icy grip. Luke felt it creep down his neck and into his body. He was getting too cold. He stopped and rewrapped the heavy scarf around his face and tightened his parka. When he began again, only his eyes were exposed.
After what felt like hours, lights finally appeared in the blackness. Luke hollered his delight and relief. He'd nearly decided to make camp out in the open. However, the idea of hot food and a warm bed waiting for him kept him moving.
As he slid into the tiny settlement, Mattie greeted him. “You're the second one in!” She threw her arms around Luke even before the sled completely stopped. “We have a tent set up. Your mother's been keeping it warm, and we've got some stew.”
Luke was almost tempted to follow her, but he needed to take care of the dogs. “Which tent?”
“That one,” Mattie said, pointing at one of several.
“Tell Brian I need a hand.”
Brian fed and watered the dogs while Luke checked and doctored paws. The dogs were finally settled, and Luke gratefully headed for the tent. When he stepped inside, the warmth felt almost hot. “Hi,” he said to his mother while Mattie folded him in her arms and kissed him. Weary, he sat on a cot and rubbed his face.
Jean stood in front of him with a bowl of hot stew. “Try this. It'll warm you up.”
“Thanks.” He took the offering.
“Do you know how far back Ray is?” she asked.
“Not far. He should come in any time.” He'd heard a tinge of fear in his mother's voice and was reminded that he hadn't given Ray a thought the last several miles. Guilt settled over him. Another team jangled into the makeshift tent city. “That's probably him.”
Jean peeked outside. “It is,” she said, a lilt in her voice. She moved outside.
Luke remained where he was and tried to eat. Now that he was warm and resting, he could barely stay awake. Mattie huddled beside him. The baby slept in a fur-lined box. “It's harder than I thought, and today was the easiest day. 'Course, the snow's heavy and wet. The runners don't move through it so good. Feels like the temperature's dropping though.” He took a bite of stew. “I've got Hatcher Pass in front of me.”
“You'll make it,” Mattie said. “I know you.”
Luke hoped she was right. Even the thought of not finishing sent a wave of humiliation over him. No. He wouldn't let that happen. He handed her the last of his stew. “I've got to sleep. Wake me in three hours.”
The moment Luke's head rested on the mattress, sleep enveloped him. When Mattie woke him three hours later, he felt drugged. The sound of a team moving out of town gave him a surge, and he came awake. He had to get moving.
It was Ray who'd left ahead of Luke. He must not have slept, Luke decided, then remembered hearing something about Brian taking care of his dogs. He'd grabbed a quick meal and a couple of hours of sleep, and was off. Luke had seen him function on less. Beating him wouldn't be easy, even with their age difference. He felt a sort of pride as he thought of the man's unyielding determination and stamina. Ray was tough.
Luke yelled for his dogs to mush and used the whip, careful not to actually strike any of them. He and the dogs would have to work harder if they were going to win.
It took a couple of hours to close the gap between himself and Ray, but Luke had him in sight and was gaining on him. The trail was narrow, and it would be difficult to pass. Still, Luke pushed the dogs.
As they edged closer, Butch was careful to keep the team and sled clear of the other team. He kept his eyes on the trail, only glancing at the other dogs who strained to pick up the pace and maintain their lead. Some barked and snarled as Luke's team came up even. They ran side by side for several minutes, neither able to gain the advantage. Luke kept his eyes straight ahead, unwilling to be distracted even for a moment. Finally Butch, straining on the harness, pulled ahead.
Only then did Luke nod at Ray, unable to conceal a smile. Ray looked unruffled and again saluted. Luke wished he'd stop doing that. It was annoying.
Another team was still in the lead. Now he'd have to concentrate on overtaking them. He worked hard to open up the distance between himself and Ray as he approached a narrow canyon. Sheer ice-encrusted rock walls shot up on both sides. He gazed at the top of the ridge several hundred feet above. Heavy snow sat on top, curling over the lip. Luke hoped the warmer weather hadn't softened the shelf enough to send it crashing down. No matter, he couldn't do anything about it.
Mountains, their rugged ridges smoothed by heavy snow, loomed. The trail rose in front of him, then curved around a wide bend. Luke glanced behind him and could see Ray emerging from the canyon with another man not far behind. “Mush,” he called to the dogs who padded forward, their tails wagging and tongues lolling.
He knew about Hatcher Pass. It was long and steep, rising about three thousand feet. It was the toughest part of the race. He could feel the drop in temperature as they climbed. Icy fingers found their way inside his parka. The cold intensified, and Luke felt as if he'd opened up his coat.
When darkness again draped the landscape, giant pines became shadowy sentinels. It was difficult to see, and the temperature plummeted. Should he stop? He dared not, or he would be caught. Setting his jaw against the challenge, he kept on.
At least the road had been cleared. The Independence Mine saw to that. Exhausted, the cold burning his lungs, he rode. The dogs showed the strain. He prayed they could hold out until they made the town of Willow, where he'd planned to stop.
Luke imagined home. A fire and a hot meal would await him. His mother or Mattie would be baking. He could almost smell the aroma of fresh bread. Why was he out here, in the dark, in the cold…alone? He couldn't think of a good reason. Still, he kept going. He had no choice.
Gradually the ground leveled, and the dogs and sled moved more easily. Luke ran. All of a sudden the trail dipped and moved downhill. He barely had time to grab hold of the handles and jump on before the dogs and sled began a speedy descent.
Below him, bathed in moonlight, lay a valley of rounded white hills and shadowy valleys. Willow was close. He could rest soon.
