Total pages in book: 18
Estimated words: 16767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 84(@200wpm)___ 67(@250wpm)___ 56(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 16767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 84(@200wpm)___ 67(@250wpm)___ 56(@300wpm)
As I spoke, Jolly’s eyes got wider until I finally realized I was babbling and wasn’t anywhere close to shutting up.
I closed my mouth with a clack before opening it again to add one more thing.
“I like him.”
Shit. That… wasn’t exactly what I’d meant to add. My face heated while I wondered whether I should clarify.
Nope. Better to stay quiet and simmer in my humiliation.
Jolly’s forehead creased before his face widened in a cordial smile. “Noted. You ready to meet some dogs? Kinley has a new litter up there. Prepare yourself for puppy fever.”
He was right. As soon as we got up to the lake where the kennels were, I could hear the yips of excited dogs. The puppies were an excellent distraction from my disappointment over Pete’s replacement.
I knew better than to begrudge him needing to get on with his life. He wasn’t my own personal tour guide even though he’d been almost doing the job of it these past several days. No doubt he had his own shit to do that didn’t involve running me over the mountain to do yet another super-touristy excursion.
Jolly chatted for a few minutes with the woman who owned the kennels before promising to pick me back up in a few hours. I took copious mental notes about the kennels, Kinley’s sled dog program, and her own tales of local history. For a woman in her early thirties, she was incredibly experienced and knowledgeable about the industry she worked in. Her passion was contagious.
I’d already learned the hard way that the reason everyone preferred travel via bush plane was because the roads were pitted and bumpy, which made travel over land excruciatingly slow and tedious. The winter weather was brutal on the roads and many side roads simply weren’t worth maintaining when there were other forms of transportation that were much faster.
After an exhilarating dog sled ride through the trails around Kinley’s property, we shared a cup of hot coffee and some caribou stew. I explained more about the article I was trying to write and the difficulty I was having with it.
“I haven’t had this much trouble writing an assignment since I was in college and had to write an essay on sexual identity,” I admitted with a soft laugh. “Usually, it’s the highly emotional content that gets me.”
Kinley peered across the battered wooden table at me. “Is this topic highly emotional for you?”
“No,” I said without thinking. As soon as the word was out of my mouth, I realized it was a lie. “Maybe? But… I don’t really understand why.”
She pressed her lips together as if deliberately stopping herself from saying something. We’d had an easy rapport all day, so I was a little disappointed she didn’t feel comfortable speaking freely.
“What?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Sometimes being far from home is an emotional trigger. Going from an urban environment to the wilderness can also be eye-opening in a stressful way. Many people who come out here are faced with the dangers of a harsh environment they’re not used to back in their city lives. Sometimes getting away from your real life gives you a chance to look at things differently. It can open up some emotional wounds.”
I shook my head. “I don’t have emotional wounds… at least, no more than any other person. And I love it here. It’s challenging, and I could see how it wouldn’t be for everyone. But I truly feel at home here.”
The words out of my own mouth surprised me. At home in the middle of nowhere, Alaska? How was that possible? There were no rideshare or food delivery apps here. There wasn’t a Target or Whole Foods. Hell, Amazon Prime probably took weeks to get here and required a lift on Knockwood Aviation’s tin can for the final push.
But the people were some of the nicest I’d ever met, and the views knocked the breath out of my lungs. The pace was slow enough for me to learn new things and focus in a way I hadn’t done for a very long time, if ever.
Kinley smiled. “You sound like me when I realized I wanted to move here.”
“You’re not from here?” I asked in surprise.
“No,” she said with a laugh. “I’m from Atlanta.”
I stared at her, not even needing to say the words out loud to express just how shocked I was by the information.
Her continued laugh brought out fine lines next to her hazel eyes. “You’re surprised.”
“How the hell did you wind up here? And how’d you get into dog sledding?”
“My brother married someone who lived here. It’s a long story, but basically they met online, and when Sutton decided to come out here to meet the guy, I came with him for moral support.”
“Sutton Lavoy is your brother?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I’m not surprised you met him. He’s never met a stranger and makes friends easier than anyone I know.”