LITMIR.BIZ

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leash. “Yes.”

       “Have you ever worked with sled dogs before?” Bea appeared to be putting forth great effort to not look directly at Nugget anymore.

       “Um, not exactly.” Did sifting through photos of sled dogs for Nature World count? She certainly wasn’t going to mention that she’d never actually seen one in the flesh—er, fur—until last night. “But there’s a training class, right?”

       “Yes.” Bea’s voice turned dead serious. “The class is mandatory if you don’t already have your sled dog handler certification card.”

       “I’ll be there. I’ve already registered for the class.”

       “Good. It’s mandatory.”

       “I understand.” What was her problem?

       “Even if you have a Ph.D. in dog, you’ve got to take the class.” She held out Clementine’s name tag but didn’t appear willing to let it go.

       Clementine tugged on it a few times until she finally managed to wrestle it out of Bea’s reluctant fingers. Good grief! “Thanks again for the reminder. I’ll be at the class. It’s tomorrow afternoon, right?”

       “Tomorrow at noon.” She glanced down at Clementine’s pink UGGs. “Dress warm. You’ll be spending an hour or two outside in the parking lot.”

       Clementine resisted the urge to salute and say “Yes, ma’am.” She said a silent prayer of thanks for Bea’s neon hat. At least she would be able to see her coming from a distance, and she could run in the other direction. “Okay.”

       “Here’s your volunteer hat and T-shirt.” She slid them across the counter with no small amount of reluctance.

       Clementine took the items and slipped her lanyard over her head, with her name tag facing outward. There! She looked as official as all of the other people milling about. “Thank you.”

       “You know…” Bea called out to her as she turned to go. “You can always change your mind. We have plenty of other volunteer jobs. Like filing. Or answering phones.”

       Clementine’s face burned, and it was a struggle to keep her voice even. “No, thank you. I’m here to work with the dogs.”

       Honestly. Filing? Answering telephones? Those wouldn’t exactly make fascinating topics for an article in the magazine. She might as well be sitting back in her cubicle in Texas.

       Even as the thought crossed her mind, her cell phone vibrated in her pocket. She pulled it out and examined the screen.

       Sure enough, her cubicle had managed to follow her to Alaska.

       She cleared her throat, just in case it was her boss. If she didn’t come off as confident, he’d never send her anywhere again. He most certainly didn’t need to know the race personnel were trying to talk her into answering phones. “Hello?”

       “Clementine, thank goodness. You made it in one piece.” Natalie Marshall, her officemate, sighed into the phone.

       Clementine’s heart lifted at the sound of her voice. In addition to sharing a cubicle, she and Natalie were good friends. As close as two people who spend forty-plus hours a week within five feet of one another could be.

       She settled on one of the brown leather sofas in the lobby and scooped Nugget into her lap. “I’m here.”

       “Are you frozen solid?”

       Clementine laughed. “Almost.”

       “You asked for it. Remember? Over and over and over again, as I recall.”

       “Oh, I recall.” Clementine’s voice turned wistful as she thought about all the times she’d begged to go on one of the plum research assignments out in the field, and the grim look on her fiancé’s face last year when she told him she’d finally gotten the one in Alaska.

       It hadn’t been the first sign of trouble in their engagement, but it had been the one that really got her attention. Then, six short months later, there was no engagement.

       Natalie whispered into the phone, signaling her call wasn’t all about work. “Listen, you will not believe what I saw driving down Memorial Drive this morning.”

       Clementine took a wild guess. “A car?”

       “No. I mean there were cars, obviously, but that’s not what I’m talking about,” Natalie huffed.

       Clementine could almost hear her eyes roll from a thousand miles away. “What did you see driving down the street that was so interesting?”

       “A motorcycle, complete with red flames on the side. I think it might have been a Harley. And guess who was riding it?” She didn’t wait for Clementine to speculate. It was a good thing because in a million years she never would have guessed the identity of the bike’s rider. “Mark!”

       “Mark?” Clementine paused, trying to absorb this information. The pause served no purpose, however. She would never be able to wrap her mind around Mark on a Harley. Unless Harleys suddenly came in beige. “As in my ex-fiancé, Mark?”

       “The one and only.”

      Impossible.

       Mark didn’t believe in motorcycles. Or any other type of vehicles with flames. Mark was safe. He wanted to live his life in a harmless little box.

       He’d certainly wanted to keep Clementine in a box.

       “What a hypocrite.” Natalie’s voice rose above a whisper with this proclamation. “Can you believe him?”

       “Mark doesn’t concern me anymore.” Even faced with the literally flaming evidence of his double standard, she honestly meant it. She felt nothing at the mention of his name. A fact that spoke volumes.

       Although a part of her couldn’t help but wonder if he’d been right about Alaska. The attitudes of the people she’d met so far weren’t exactly encouraging.

       Clementine gulped. “I’m in Alaska and I’m about to go enjoy my first snowfall.”

       “Good for you. Forget about all of us back home, Mark included, and enjoy your trip. This is the adventure you’ve been waiting for.” Clementine could hear the hum of a computer monitor in the background and the familiar clickety-clack of Natalie’s fingers flying over the keyboard. “I’ve got to run. Duty calls. You take care.”

       The line went dead. Clementine stared at the darkened screen and made a mental note to make sure to buy Natalie a souvenir before she went home. Something nice. A little piece of Alaska. She deserved it for holding down the fort in their cubicle while Clementine was off on her adventure.

       She shoved the phone back in her pocket and headed toward the revolving door, anxious to get outside and sink her feet into the snow. Before she pushed her way through, she paused and pulled four tiny shoes from the other pocket of her parka. Correction—booties, not shoes. That’s what they called them here in Alaska. All the sled dogs wore them, and even dogs who weren’t professional athletes. They protected canine feet from the hazards of exposure to ice and snow.

       It just happened to be an added bonus that the ones she’d found online for Nugget were beyond adorable.

       She taped them into place. The little Pomeranian was remarkably cooperative, considering she’d never actually been a shoe-wearing dog before.

      Bootie-wearing, not shoe-wearing.

       With the booties firmly fastened, Clementine stood and admired them. Nugget pranced for a few steps and spun in a quick circle.

       “Good girl,” Clementine cooed.

       This was going so well that she’d have to consider the possibility of using them back home. Surely somewhere in Texas there existed a logical reason for a dog to wear booties. She’d lived there her entire life and never stumbled across such a reason, but that didn’t mean

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