Broken Trails Read Online Free PDF

finally meet you,” the woman said, offering her hand. She stood a few inches shorter, her curly dark hair cut short, and shot through with threads of silver. Scotch knew from her research that she was only six years younger than the reporter, and found the premature coloring of interest. "Obviously, I'm Lainey Hughes, and this is my associate, Don Howry.”
    "Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Fuller.”
    Hands were shaken, and Scotch offered to take one of the bags. She had the weirdest sensation that she had met Lainey before. Her father had said that she had covered the last race, so maybe that was the connection. "Call me Scotch,” she instructed, leading the way to the truck. ‘since you'll be with us a while, no reason to not to be an a first name basis.”
    With Cliff's help, they loaded the bags into the back of the truck. He declined an invitation to the kennel for coffee, but gratefully swapped his thermos with Scotch's. Soon he was back in his plane, cranking it up for the trip back to Anchorage. They watched as he turned Delores around, and took off, the landing gears just barely missing the tops of the trees at the other end of the airstrip.
    Left alone with the strangers, Scotch sighed and forced a smile. "Let's get you back to the kennel, and settled in,” she said, opening the truck and folding the seat back. "I've only got jump seats here. It's kind of small, so maybe Lainey should take the back.”
    “That sounds fine.” Lainey smiled, and stepped forward as Howry went around to the passenger door.
    Still holding the seat out of the way, Scotch leaned back against the door hinge to give Lainey room to climb inside. She could not help but notice the snug fitting designer jeans, and a light scent of perfume. Shaking her head, she waited until Lainey folded down the seat behind Howry, and settled in the cramped space before clambering into the truck.
    Soon they were on a paved rural road, heading into the village she called home. The silence was unnerving to Scotch. While she could see Howry with her peripheral vision avidly soaking up the sights of small town Alaska, she swore she felt the eyes of Lainey staring at her. A quick glance proved her instincts correct as the photojournalist looked away. Scotch, somewhat out of her element, reddened at the intensity of Lainey's expression, and gripped the steering wheel tighter.
    Lainey cleared her throat. ‘so, how long have you been driving dogs?” she asked.
    Scotch grinned, welcoming the distraction of dog talk. "Almost twenty years.” At the abrupt quiet, she regarded her passengers, noting Howry's puzzled look and Lainey's expression of denial. ‘my parents started the kennel when I was two. As soon as I could stand and hang on alone, I was on a sled.”
    "Wow,” Howry said. ‘sledding as long as you've been walking. That's cool.”
    She negotiated through the small town, driving automatically. "I only had one dog for a team, of course, but it was a beginning. My brother and sister started the same way.”
    “That would be . . . Irish and Rye?” Lainey asked.
    Scotch nodded, turning off the road and onto a hard packed dirt lane. "Irish is nine; she's up to ten dogs now. And Rye runs a full load.”
    "Interesting names,” Howry said, hinting for more information.
    Chuckling, Scotch said, “Talk to my dad. He loves telling the story.”
    "I will,” Lainey responded, her voice soft.
    Scotch looked sharply over her shoulder, not certain what she thought she would see. Lainey merely smiled back at her. Turning back to her driving, she wondered why the woman unsettled her so.
     
    Deep in her thoughts Scotch did not catch Howry giving Lainey a raised eyebrow. She returned a warning look, not quite sticking her tongue out at him, though she did give his seat a slight nudge. He slid his eyes back to the scenery.
    Her sexual interests were no mystery to the man; they had worked together in South America once. Two months of close association left little in the