Alaskan Fantasy. Elle James

command, her voice carrying easily through the silence to her lead dogs.

      Loki and Eli pulled to the right, the rest of the team falling in line.

      As the dogs entered the stand of trees, Kat eased onto the foot brake and set out the snow hook, slowing the animals to a stop. Loki and Eli flopped to the ground, alert but relaxed with their heads on their paws. Some of the younger dogs danced around on their necklines before settling in for a rest.

      After checking the feet, booties and general condition of the line of dogs, Kat fired up the portable cooker. Before long she had snow melting for the dog food and water boiling for coffee.

      The dogs heard the arrival of another team before Kat could see them. They appeared from around a curve in the trail, tiny, dark dots in the white of the snow, growing larger as they neared.

      The dogs slid in beside hers and stopped with a lot of tail wagging, happy yips of greeting and sniffing.

      Kat handed Sam a canteen cup of coffee and turned to his sled and dogs. “Any problems?”

      With Sam on one side and Kat on the other side of the team, they walked the line of dogs, checking feet, wrists and shoulders. All appeared in good shape.

      After the dogs were fed and taken care of, Sam gave Kat a narrow-eyed look. “Look, if you’re slowing up for me, forget it. I’m here to race. I’ll leave you so far behind you won’t catch up.” His gray-green eyes flashed in the late-afternoon sun.

      She tipped her head to the side. “Is that a challenge?”

      “You bet.”

      “You’re on.” She tossed the remains of her canteen cup into the snow, and stowed the metal cooker and feeding dishes before climbing on the back of her sled.

      The sound of a snowmobile alerted her that they were no longer alone. The trail was not exclusive to the sled teams. Occasional snowmobiles were encountered, especially early on in the race when they hadn’t completely left civilization behind. Kat only gave it minor consideration. She pulled up the snow hook and had sucked in a lungful of air to shout to her team, when a shot rang out.

      Sam’s cap flew from his head. “What the hell?”

      Kat’s team yelped and lunged forward. She barely caught the handlebar with her gloved fingertips, struggling for a few seconds to hang on. She stepped on the foot brake to slow the dogs. When she turned back toward Sam, he lay on the ground.

      “Get down!” he yelled. “Someone just shot at me.”

      “Whoa!” Kat dropped to a crouch, anchoring her snow hook to keep the dogs from leaving with the sled. “Are you okay?” She scanned the tree line across the swamp.

      “I’m fine.” As he reached out to grab his hat, another shot echoed through the stillness and his hat leaped into the air. “What the h—”

      “Stay down.” Kat dropped to her stomach. “I’ll move around the clearing to see if I can find out who’s shooting.”

      “You’ll stay exactly where you are,” Sam hissed into the mic. “I’ll go check.”

      “Look, I’m trained in this kind of maneuver.”

      “So am I,” he gritted out. “Stay down.”

      “If I were a man, would you be so concerned?”

      “Now is not the time to go all equal opportunity on me.”

      Kat scooted behind the bulk of her fully laden sled. “Chauvinist.” Although frustrated by his demand for her to stay, she didn’t say the word in anger. With a man shooting at him, she didn’t wish additional bad karma on Sam.

      “I won’t have another man, woman…or child…die on my account,” Sam muttered, working his way around to the opposite side of his sled. He dug into the pouch containing his rifle. With the weapon in front of him, he ran in a zigzag pattern toward the trees.

      Shots rang out, hitting the snow just in front of or behind his boots.

      Kat’s breath caught in her throat. Sam certainly looked as if he knew what he was doing. She hoped like hell he did.