Read Online Broken Trails by D Jordan Redhawk - Free Book Online

methods compared to others. Each racer trained in their own styles, some less scrupulous in caring for their dogs, some more interested in the process than the results. Sure, Scotch had hopes of coming in to Nome first some day, but not at the expense of her team.
    She sighed and rolled over. On the other side of the room divider she heard the steady breathing of her new roommate. It had been five years since she had shared a room with Irish. Scotch wondered if that was part of her inability to get to sleep, this sudden communal space where once she had been alone. Her ears picked up noise that should not be there; the occasional squeak of bedsprings, the rustle of sheets as Lainey shifted, a gentle murmur when she spoke in her sleep.
    Scotch had helped Lainey unpack, avidly curious about the woman. Why the backpack? Some of the gear was worn with use, like her hiking boots. Other pieces were obviously new. Why did she bring an arctic sleeping bag? If she followed the race with the rest of the reporters, she would hardly have an opportunity to use the thing. Usually magazines and newspapers had hotels lined up in Anchorage and Nome for their reporters. Did this mean that Lainey would follow the trail with the other hardcore journalists? The thought was actually comforting to Scotch, the potential to see a familiar and friendly face at each checkpoint a gratifying idea.
    The suitcase had held clothing and toiletries. Lainey had taken her phone conversations with Thom to heart, for it held assorted woolen pants, flannel shirts, jeans, and thick socks. There were even two sets of thermal and silk underwear.
    As they unpacked, they discussed inconsequential things, becoming acquainted with one another. It felt vaguely familiar to Scotch, and now in the dark she worried the sensation until she discovered why. Smiling in the night, she remembered feeling a similar sense of camaraderie during sleep overs at friends' homes. She had not attended one of those since she was fourteen. No wonder she felt practically giddy with Lainey's presence. Those rare moments of sleeping over at a friend's house had been new and exciting. The feelings were no different now.
    Her eyes tired, she still could not sleep. She flopped onto her back. Regardless of the new arrivals, tomorrow was another day, another round of visitors, another set of chores. Tomorrow, she was scheduled to go into town and pick up a tour group of retirees for a day trip. She might even be able to swing a donation or two out of them if she played her cards right. Normally, the knowledge of a planned day trip lightened her spirits, but not this evening. Tonight she regretted the fact that Lainey would no doubt remain behind, beginning to learn the ropes of kennel life. The reservation for the day trip had called for ten people. That would fill up two carts, leaving no room for anyone else but she and Rye to lead them.
    She finally drifted off to sleep, her thoughts aimlessly wandering between plans for tomorrow, Lainey's smile, the sight of designer jeans, and the sound of laughter.
     
    CHAPTER EIGHT
    THE BIG BEN alarm clock on her nightstand jangled Scotch awake. She slapped at it until it went silent, then sat up in bed, eyes still closed. The coolness of morning against her sleep heated skin felt nice, but she could not stop a shiver as she stretched and yawned. Why did she feel so tired this morning?
    On the other side of the curtain, she heard a mumbled protest and squeaking bedsprings.
    Oh, yeah. Grainy eyes opened wide in remembrance. Her guest. Scotch had spent too much time not being able to get to sleep the previous night.
    Suddenly uncertain, she wondered if she should check on Lainey, make sure she was getting out of bed. From the sounds of things, she probably rolled over to return to her dreams, since Scotch heard no further movement. Her bladder insisted on attention, and she decided to wait a bit, giving Lainey a chance to wake on her own. Scotch climbed out of