Across a Thousand Miles (18 page)

Rebecca watched him, holding her soup untasted in her hands. How had she missed it? she marveled. How had she ever overlooked the fact that Mac was such a good man? He was solid and calm and dependable. He was always in good humor, even when exhausted. And she'd been wrong about him. He was loaded with common sense. He could think his way out of any problem, and he was so damn magnetic that she was finding it
difficult to look away from him long enough to pry the cover off her soup. He had shaved, and his face was lean and masculine and dark with windburn. His eyes were the most beautiful eyes she'd ever seen on a man. Clear gray and thick-lashed.

He glanced up at her, his mouth full of something, and tried to grin with his mouth closed. He lifted his bottle of beer to her, washed the food down with a generous swig and then laughed. “I feel like a barbarian, but I'm so hungry. Eat, woman! You need to put on about twenty pounds in—” he glanced at his Rolex “—a mere twenty-one hours. That's a pound an hour. Eat!”

Rebecca obediently dipped her spoon into the soup. It was hot, salty and delicious. Once she began eating, her physical hunger forced her to concentrate on the task. Mac kept heaping food into her container and she kept eating it. They devoured every last scrap and then sprawled on the bed, shoulders propped against pillows and headboard, gnawing on the last of the pork ribs and drinking beer. “If anyone ever taped that feeding frenzy on video, I'm afraid I'd be forced to kill myself,” Rebecca said. “We are truly disgusting animals.”

“Truly,” Mac agreed amiably. “I think I could go for seconds.”

Rebecca laughed. “How did Ellin get hold of my clothes?”

“She headed me off at the checkpoint and gave me the duffel bag. I came back to the hotel room and got them. I have to tell you, she sure was tickled pink when she saw me. She has this idea that we should fall in love and live happily ever after, and she knew that I'd gone to the hotel room for a shower and I hadn't been sleeping in Brian's tent. When I told her that I left you sleeping
peacefully in the room, I thought she was going to shake my hand and congratulate me.” Mac laughed, remembering.

“Naturally you told her there was nothing going on.”

“I did no such thing,” Mac said, raising his beer for another swallow. “I have my reputation to consider. What would folks think of a guy who spent the night in bed with a beautiful woman and never laid a hand on her?” He lowered the bottle, staring at the label with a bemused grin. “No, let them think what they will. It'll give 'em something to talk about.”

“Mac,” Rebecca said carefully, “what about Sadie?”

“Sadie?” Mac turned his head to look at her as if he had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. “What about her?”

“Sadie Hedda's in love with you. I'm surprised she's not in town!”

Mac rubbed his shoulders against the headboard and slouched a little lower. “Well, she was, just before we got here. But she got called out for some medical emergency. That's what Ellin told me.”

“Oh,” Rebecca said.

“Rebecca, you should know that I never encouraged Sadie. Never,” Mac said. “I wish she hadn't given me that damn parka.”

“It's a beautiful parka, and Sadie's a nice woman.”

Mac studied his beer bottle, resting it on one of his knees. “Well, the thing is, I'm not in love with her,” he said.

Rebecca stared at her own beer bottle. She felt the familiar wave of heat coming up into her face, and all of a sudden it seemed as though she and Mac were sitting awfully close together on the big bed. They were close enough that she could feel the sexual energy ra
diating from his powerful body, and she could certainly feel the answering response in her own. She swung her legs over the side and stood, acutely aware that she was wearing hardly anything at all beneath the blanket she clasped about her. Moments ago it hadn't seemed the least bit important, but now her heart was beating so loudly she was sure Mac could hear it.

“Mac,” she said, forcing herself to look at him, forcing her voice to sound normal, forcing herself to be cool and aloof when she felt anything but. “I'm…you're… we're…” She stopped, glanced down at her bare toes, then back into those incredible eyes. She felt that curious flutter at the base of her diaphragm that she had felt too often in his presence. “We have a race to run. And please, don't waste your time on me. You'd be much better off with Sadie, and she cares a great deal for you.”

She set her beer bottle on the desk, grabbed the duffel from the foot of the bed and dragged it into the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind her. She washed her hands and face, brushed her teeth, brushed and braided her hair, and dressed in her clean but definitely sexless bulky arctic wear. When she emerged from the bathroom, she was no longer a scantily clad young woman who'd shared a bed with an extremely virile and handsome man. She was a musher from head to toe, competing in one of the toughest sled dog races in the world.

“Well, I guess the party's over,” Mac said, looking her up and down.

“I'm going down to check on my dogs,” she said, and he looked back at her, tipped his head back against the headboard in a gesture of reluctant defeat and nodded.

“Okay,” he said. “If you see Brian, tell him I'm on my way. Tell him to fire up the propane heater in the tent and get my sleeping bag out. I think I'm ready for another long nap.”

 

“H
EY
R
AVEN
, C
OOKIE
, my little girls, how're you doing?” Rebecca sat cross-legged on the big bed of straw that her two leaders shared and gave back the affection she received. Her team was very glad to see her. They had just been fed and were awake and on their feet when she returned to the checkpoint. Kanemoto was applying ointment to Seal's feet, and a quick glance showed her that he'd cared for her team superbly. He was looking a little tired and frayed around the edges, but he was still highly enthusiastic, giving her a nonstop verbal replay of everything he'd done and of every dog's reaction to everything he'd done. He'd even made notes in a special race diary he was keeping. The dogs looked great. They were already anticipating getting back out onto the trail, and they still had another nineteen hours of rest coming to them. By the time they left Dawson City, they would be a pack of screaming demons and would probably gallop clear to Eagle without stopping. “We're halfway there, Raven,” she said, scratching beneath the dog's collar. “Another five days.”

Five more days of traveling with Mac. And then what?

Brian wandered casually over, hands in his parka pockets. “Hey, Becky,” he said. “Your dogs look terrific.”

“So do Mac's,” she replied.

“They're still my dogs,” he corrected her with a grin. “But I must admit, Mac's doing a good job driving them. Better than I thought he would.”

“He enjoys it,” Rebecca said. “He's a quick study,
and the dogs really like him. It's too bad you're selling the team.”

Brian hunched his shoulders in self-defense. “Look, Becky, you don't know Mac like I do. He's not the kind of guy who's going to stick around for very long. I mean, he's here now, sure, but it's just a temporary diversion for him. He's way too ambitious to stay out here in the boonies. Know what I mean? He's mad at me because I'm selling the team, but he won't be around to run them next winter. He'll be raking in big bucks at some high-tech engineering firm in Silicon Valley or flying a Concorde for British Airways.”

Rebecca stared up at Brian, fighting down the surge of blind panic his words triggered. “What exactly did Mac do in the military?”

Brian frowned. “You mean you don't know? I thought the two of you were friends.”

“We are. I just never thought it was my business to ask. I figured he'd tell me when and if he wanted me to know.”

“Maybe he thought you already did. Through me or Bruce, you know?”

“Maybe. All I know is that something bad happened to him and he came out here to get away.”

Brian nodded. “That's why I know he's not going to stick around. Mac was running away from things when he came out here, but once he comes to grips with what happened, he'll get back out in the big world. Jeez, Becky, don't you read the papers? You remember that big blowup in the Middle East a year or so ago? The navy pilot who shot down two Iranian fighters over the no-fly zone?”

“Mac's a navy pilot?”

“Was,”
Brian corrected. He rubbed his chin and hunkered down beside her. “See, he was a navy fighter pilot flying cover for a search-and-rescue mission to find a carrier pilot who'd had to bail out over the no-fly zone. Two fighters showed up on the scene. Mac assumed they were Iraqi and he testified at his trial that they had a radar missile lock on him and were about to shoot. He had no choice but to shoot first. Turned out the planes were from Iran, and the whole thing blew up into this nasty and embarrassing international incident.”

“And Mac got kicked out of the navy?”

“Congress put the pressure on the admiral in charge of the board of inquiry to find a scapegoat to appease the Iranians.”

“But didn't Mac have a defense attorney?”

“Sure, for all the good it did. The court found Mac guilty of dereliction of duty. They court-martialed him, fined him a bunch of money and gave him sixty days' confinement, suspended. They took his wings away and ordered him off the ship on administrative leave pending discharge. Congress got their scapegoat.”

“And Mac came out here.”

Brian shrugged. “Yes. He lost everything, even his wife, who served him with divorce papers right after the court martial. Told him she couldn't live with a civilian husband and a man who had disgraced his country. He didn't contest it. He gave her everything. The house, the savings account, the car.”

“Does he have any children?”

Brian shook his head. “Married three years, no kids.”

Rebecca was silent for a long moment, thinking about
all Mac had been through in the past year. “Did they rescue the downed pilot?”

“The rescue mission he was flying cover for was a success, but ironically that same pilot was killed less than six months later in a plane crash. He was Mac's best friend.”

“Was his name Mouse?”

Brian looked at her, surprised. “I thought you said he never talked about it.”

“He didn't. He had a nightmare and talked in his sleep.”

“I imagine my brother has a lot of nightmares. You know, the worst part of that whole mess was how my father reacted. For all intents and purposes, he disowned Mac.”

“How could he, after all Mac had been through!”

“My father's a navy man himself. Mac's behavior cast a dark shadow on his reputation and jeopardized his climb to the top.”

“What about your mother?”

“Died five years ago.” Brian sighed. “Jeez, Rebecca. I really thought you knew. Like I said, I thought you would have read about it in the papers, heard it on the radio.”

“Or been told by his brother, perhaps?” Rebecca said.

“Well, I didn't run around advertising it,” Brian admitted.

Rebecca shook her head and sat in silence, her arm wrapped around Raven. She was stunned by Brian's revelation. She let her fingers drift through the dog's soft fur and looked up at Mac's brother.

“After Bruce died, I kind of tuned out the rest of the
world. But if Mac said that those Iranian jets were about to open fire, I believe him. There has to be a way to prove his innocence!”

Brian uttered a bitter laugh. “You don't know how the military operates. Once they've killed you off, you can never come back to life. You're dead.”

Rebecca shook her head again. “It isn't fair,” she said softly. “Poor Mac.”

Brian nodded, standing with his hands shoved deep in his pockets. He started to turn away, but then he paused. “Becky? I love my brother and I think he's innocent, same as you. He was too damn good at what he did to make that kind of mistake. He got a bum rap and he's hiding out right now nursing a big hurt, but I don't want to see you get hurt, too. Just don't count on him sticking around, okay? And don't be mad at me for selling my dog team. It's not something I want to do. I just don't have any choice.”

“I'm not mad at you, Brian,” Rebecca said, slowly, still trying to assimilate what she'd just heard. “Thanks for telling me the details.” She gave him what she hoped was a believable smile and added, “And don't worry about me. Mac and I are just friends.”

After Brian had left, she repeated softly, “Mac and I are just friends.” She pulled Raven into her arms, rested her chin atop the dog's head and closed her eyes.

 

M
AC CHECKED HIS TEAM
before heading into the tent. He was standing in the soft light cast by gas lanterns when he heard Sadie's voice behind him.

“Mac!”

He turned. She was striding purposefully toward him,
grinning from ear to ear. “Oh, Mac, I'm so proud of you!” she said. She threw her arms around him and gave him a hug. He raised his hands and closed them on her upper arms, gently pushing her away. She seemed oblivious to his need for distance and raised her face to his, her eyes shining. “I'm so sorry I'm late! I wanted to be here when you arrived, but I got called out!”

“I know. Ellin told me.” Mac kept her at arm's length. “Listen, Sadie—”

“Are you hungry? I brought some food with me—it's in my truck. I made a huge pot of homemade chili!”

“Thanks, but I've already eaten. Sadie, can we talk?”

Sadie's eyes flickered. Her sunny expression clouded. “What's wrong? Are you feeling okay?”

“Come inside.” Mac led her into the dimly lit tent. He sat beside her on one of the cots and drew a deep breath. “Sadie, I think you're a really special person and—”