Hope In Every Raindrop (11 page)

Only two dogs remained.

“Story. Link. Come.”

These were the only two dogs that Kyle had called together. They were also the only two that shared a pen, and the same two that Katie remembered Kyle with in the field. While Colossus and Olympia were a contrast in appearance, Story and Link were a complete contrast in personality. Link was several years older than Story, and his demeanor mirrored that. His stride was slow and his eyes were calm. Story, on the other hand, was the picture of energy and exuberance. From the moment Kyle spoke her name she jolted into action, playfully growling as she literally ran into Link’s side, eliciting laughs from both Katie and Kyle.

Kyle took a second to calm Story and said, “These are the swing dogs. When the team turns together, it’s because of them. They have to be more alert and aware than the team and wheel dogs. They must be incredibly quick, not only with their feet, but with their minds as well.”

All fourteen dogs stood patiently in front of the sled—except Story, who was nipping at Link’s feet. If Link was bothered, he didn’t show it. Instead, his eyes followed the erratic path of a horsefly buzzing around the barn.

Katie closed her notebook and slid her pencil between the spiral binding. She massaged her hand, now aching from furiously taking notes, and looked down at the dogs in front of her.

Was she really sitting in a makeshift sled—or a “basket,” as Kyle had explained was the proper name—in the middle of South Carolina, harnessed to fourteen dogs? It almost didn’t seem real.

She looked back at some of the other dogs still sitting in their pens. Dixie, Jade, Maynard, Mingo, Shyanne, and Spirit looked back at her. Belle and her pups were resting peacefully, but the other dogs looked disappointed that they hadn’t been chosen.

Her eyes turned to follow Kyle as he made his way from dog to dog, checking each rigging line and connection for any faults. A light gust of wind swept through the barn and moved something that caught her attention. She looked towards the front of the sled, where one harness lay empty on the ground.

Katie’s knowledge of dog sledding only stretched as far as the explanations Kyle had been giving for the past ten minutes. But it only took a little bit of common sense to understand the lead dog was missing.

“Are you missing one dog still?” Katie asked.

Kyle didn’t respond, which Katie was used to. She was beginning to think he did it on purpose, just to bother her. Instead, he walked towards the front of the team and placed both of his pinky fingers in his mouth. It was a series of high-low-high whistles that he repeated several times, the tone floating across the barn and over the land. Kyle knelt down near the lead harness after a few seconds, but nothing happened.

Several of the dogs’ ears began to press down against their necks. Their tails flattened. Story’s demeanor changed entirely, as she went from biting at Link’s feet to standing alert. She sniffed the air around her as her ears moved independently, locating the sound she heard making its way towards them.

A split second later, King broke Katie’s line of sight. He entered at the far end of the barn, mouth closed, ears standing straight up, and tail curled over his back. He moved towards Kyle with a steady gait, but Katie felt as if he never took his eyes off her.

As Kyle placed the harness around King, Katie was surprised that he would be the lead dog. He spent no time training with the others. In fact, since she had been here he had spent a considerable portion of his time just watching her.

Kyle whispered something to King before he stood, and walked to the back of the sled. He stepped up onto the footboards directly behind Katie. “Line out!”

Kyle’s voice startled her as it carried through the barn.

King reacted immediately. He took several steps forward, pulling the tow line taut.

Katie turned around slightly and looked up towards Kyle. "I appreciate everything you've done. Really. But, I have to get something sent to my agent by noon. And I need internet access to do that."

"Yes, you mentioned that about ten minutes ago."

"Okay. So you have internet somewhere on the farm?" Katie asked, somewhat confused.

"No."

"But..." she offered, hoping he was going to complete that thought.

"I'm not taking you somewhere on the farm."

"Then where are we going?"

"Friday is food day. We're going to town."

"On a sled?"

Kyle didn’t respond.

"Wait. I thought you and Doc told me the closest town was Camden or Florence, which is almost an hour away."

"No. Doc told you the closest
city
was Camden or Florence. The closest
town
is the one we're on the outskirts of right now. And it's about a half-hour away. That is, if we ever actually leave."

"And there's internet there?"

King let out a groan from the front of the pack.

"I know," Kyle said. "I told you she was difficult."

Katie sighed. "You know, you could have just told me all of this from the beginning."

"You could have just trusted me."

Katie rolled her eyes and mumbled under her breath as she turned back around. "Yeah, because you've given me so many reasons to.

“So, do I just sit here?” she asked more loudly.

“Hike!” Kyle yelled.

She jolted back against the sled rails, lightly banging her shoulder, and dropped her notebook as King and the other dogs propelled the sled into motion.

“And hold on,” Kyle added with a grin.

Chapter 19

Thirty minutes later, King halted the pack without Kyle's command, about twenty feet from a long row of wooden fence that lined the road. 

The ride had been a little bumpy, but more than worth it.

Once they had lost sight of the barn, the dogs found their rhythm. Each pair had a purpose, Kyle had explained on the way.

Katie loved watching each of the dogs, but mostly she watched King. He was older, but he was strong and steadfast. She noticed the gait of several of the younger dogs change as they went over a small hill or through a thick patch of grass. But King made the change in pace several yards in advance, and the older dogs followed suit.

Kyle had to correct the younger ones verbally at each fault, which was something Katie also found that she came to like. She had not seem him interact much with the dogs verbally, but from the sled all the dogs were in front of him and hand signals couldn't be used.

As Kyle stepped off the back of the sled, the dogs instantly relaxed. They were already panting, but some sat or laid in the cool grass.

There was a wooden box the width of the sled behind where Katie was sitting, and as she got up Kyle opened the lid and pulled out eight plastic bowls and two bottles of water. He put one bowl in front of each pair and poured a quarter of the bottle in each bowl.

Placing the empty bottles back in the box, he pulled out one more full bottle.

He turned to Katie and extended the bottle in her direction.

"No, thank you," she said as she brushed the dirt from the sled off her jeans.

Kyle walked quickly over to King and unhooked his harness, then shook the bottle several times in front of the dog.

King sat as Kyle poured the water from the bottle, slowly enough that it almost looked like King was drinking water like a human. Katie looked around at the myriad of wildflowers that adorned the straw-like grass. There were bright yellow daisies, deep red poppies, bits of baby’s breath, and other blues and oranges she didn’t recognize. They were almost to the edge of the property, where Katie hadn’t been before.

Kyle refilled a few more bowls, pushed a small latch into the ground behind one of the tires—which Katie assumed was some type of brake—and turned to Katie. "Ready?"

"We're just going to leave all the dogs here?"

"No."

"They're coming with us to the store?"

"No."

Katie looked at Kyle with the same look she’d given him earlier in the barn. As they walked, Katie asked the question that had gone unanswered earlier in the barn.

“Kyle,” Katie said, stopping several steps behind him. “I still don’t understand. I get that you train sled dogs, but it just doesn’t make any sense. Aren’t sled dogs supposed to be huskies? Don’t they need to be training in zero-degree weather up in Canada or Alaska or something? Are you from up north? How do you know how to train dogs for this? Where do these dogs even come from?”

Her questions came out rapid-fire. She had so many coursing through her mind. At first they’d just been the questions of an inquisitive writer looking for answers, but now they felt like much more.

Kyle stopped at the base of a small hill. The sound of a car driving by interrupted the silence and Katie realized they must be close to town.

“That’s a lot of questions,” Kyle said, continuing up the hill.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been wanting to ask you, but it never seems like the right time. You’re always busy and you’ve got me running around all day doing chores. Even at dinner you hardly let on about the dogs at all.

“Sometimes there never is a right time,” Kyle offered.

“Don’t you want people to know about the dogs? I can share their story in your own words if you’d let me.”

When they reached the top of the hill, he stopped again and turned to face Katie. “The Siberian husky, the Alaskan husky, the Samoyed, the Canadian Eskimo, the Chinook, the Alaskan malamute. They are all incredible dogs. Intelligent, hardworking, fierce. They make great sled dogs and great sled dog teams.” Kyle hesitated as he looked directly into Katie’s eyes. “But, they will never match a Carolina gray.

“Colder climates would help some, but they don’t matter a whole lot. And as far as where these dogs come from,” he said motioning at King, “you should do some research on the Jindo, the Beringia, the Carolina dog, and the gray wolf.” He looked over at Katie and laughed. “I can’t be doing all the work now.”

Katie pressed Kyle. “I can appreciate that, and I will definitely look into all of it. But I’m not looking for the origin of the dogs, as much as I am the origin of your story with the dogs.”

Kyle was silent for a few seconds as they continued walking. Something moved near the trees off to the right, and King trotted towards it.

I don’t understand,
Katie thought.
Why is everything such a mystery with him? Am I still just some stranger that he doesn’t want to talk to?

“I was just a boy at the time,” Kyle began. “It was a soft sound, barely audible. And for a moment I almost ignored it. But then I heard it again. Still trying to catch my breath, I took several steps into the woods. Lying on the ground was a black wolf. Or so I thought...”

Kyle stopped walking and turned towards Katie—towards the land that Doc owned. “Years ago, hunters had laid traps all through these lands,” he said, motioning with his hands. “Doc had spent months trying to find them all, but he must have missed one. The animal lay motionless on its side, the steel trap clamped around its back paw, blood and fur matted together. At first I thought it was dead, but when I moved it jolted up, straining against the trap. She screamed like nothing I had ever heard before. It sounded no different than a human screaming out in pain—but that wasn’t the sound I had heard moments before. From behind the wolf, a small black shape moved. A pup.

“When I returned with Doc, he wouldn’t let me near the animal. He had his rifle in hand and told me there was no other choice. I was kicking and screaming for him not to shoot it. I don’t know why, just something went off inside of me. I ran several steps in front of her and stopped, holding my arms out to protect it.”

Katie listened intently, picturing the story as he told it. She imagined him as a young boy—his hair lighter, but his eyes just as brown. She could all but see him standing in front of the wounded animal. Protective, just as he still is.

“I don’t remember what happened next because it all happened so fast. One moment I was standing in front of the wolf, the next Doc was kneeling beside it, prying the trap apart. I had thoughts of Doc freeing the animal and nursing it back to health, but the moment he opened the trap the wolf darted off. Leaving the pup behind.” Kyle pointed at King, who was trotting back towards them.

“So, is King a wolf?” Katie asked.

“For the first few years of his life I still thought I was raising a wolf. That is, until one day a man from the University of Georgia showed up. His name was Dr. Behr Lisbon, and he was an ecologist studying wildlife around the Savannah River. A lot of people get lost around these parts, so when he pulled up I just assumed Doc would be giving him directions and he’d be back on his way. But when he stepped out of the car, a dark gray wolf followed. For a moment, I honestly believed it was King’s mother.”

Unable to contain herself Katie quickly asked, “Was it?”

Kyle looked up at the sky, and shielded his eyes. The sun was almost directly overhead. “I thought you had something important to do by noon?”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“
Seriously
?”

“Is this some game people play out in California?”

Katie laughed. “You know what I’m asking. Was it King’s mother?”

“Unfortunately not.”

“And…?” Katie said, motioning for him to go on.

“And, I suggest you talk to Dr. Lisbon at some point. He discovered a new breed of wild dogs in the area—which he called Carolina dogs—that travelled in packs with similar characteristics to a dingo.”

“But Earl said your dogs were part wolf.”

Kyle nodded. “My dogs are what I call Carolina grays. They are Carolina dogs that bred with gray wolves years and years ago.”

“What about you?” Katie asked. She regretted the question as soon as she asked it. She was prying again and she knew it. At the same time, though, she couldn’t help herself.

Kyle looked down at King trotting between him and Katie. Then he looked directly at Katie and she saw the same hesitation in his eyes that she’d seen that night at dinner.