Fire and Ice (8 page)

“Yes, he came,” Cheryl said.

“How many dogs is he taking?”

Robyn smiled at his assumption. “He wants four, but I don’t want to sell one of them.”

“Which one?”

“He’s got his eye on Tumble.”

“What? You can’t sell Tumble.” Grandpa pushed up on his elbow and scowled at her. “Did you tell him you’d sell our top stud dog?”

“No, Grandpa. I didn’t. But of course he saw Tumble when we went into the yard, and he took to him. He said he’d read about us before he came, and he might have had the idea in his mind all along to make an offer for Tumble.”

“Well, he can’t have him.”

Robyn looked at her mother.

“Fine. We’ll tell him that Tumble is absolutely not for sale. But, Dad …”

“What?” Grandpa lay back on the pillow, not entirely mollified. “That’s what comes of having that Web site. Everybody and his brother can look on there and see our best dogs.”

“That’s advertising,” Robyn reminded him.

“Yes,” her mother added. “A lot of people look at that site. The pictures of the dogs are the next best thing to seeing the actual dogs. I think it’s brought in quite a bit of business.”

“You think we should sell Tumble?”

“Not necessarily, but …” Mom cleared her throat. “You know things have been tight lately. I may be able to get a few more hours per week at the store, but …”

“No,” he said. “We don’t want you working more. I hate that you have to work away from home. If Dan was still alive, he wouldn’t hear of it.”

Mom pressed her lips together and looked toward the window.

“What?” Grandpa said again. “Is it worse than I know about?” When Cheryl still didn’t meet his gaze, he turned to stare at Robyn.

Her breath caught, and she started to speak but stopped. Were their financial straits as bad as Mom thought they were? She wished she could say with certainty that everything would be all right, but she didn’t dare.

After a long moment, Grandpa sighed. “I see. It’s me. My medical expenses. Well, I tell you what, I can walk out of here today. I don’t have to stay in here six weeks, or even two weeks, no matter what that therapist says.” He threw back the bedclothes and thrust his legs over the side of the bed.

“No, Grandpa,” Robyn said quickly. She reached to take his arm, but he had already pushed off the bed.

Almost at once his knees buckled, and he collapsed against her.

Mom stifled a cry and leaped to help Robyn get him back on the bed.

He lay there with his eyes nearly closed, panting.

“Let’s not have any more stunts like that one,” Mom said in a tight voice. “You need this treatment. I won’t argue about it.”

“You can’t sell off all the dogs,” he choked. “Robyn knows which ones she needs to keep and which ones to let go. Don’t you, Robby?”

“Yes, Grandpa.” She took his hand and squeezed it.

“Dad …” Mom’s face radiated pain as she looked down at him. Her eyes glistened, and tears spilled down her cheeks.

“Don’t cry,” he said. “We’ll sell a few dogs and we’ll get by.”

Slowly Mom sat down. “I guess this would not be a good time to suggest selling the homestead.”

Grandpa stared at her for a long moment, then looked away. No one spoke for a minute.

“Grandpa, I don’t think we need to think about that,” Robyn said softly. “If the bills are too big, then I could get a job, too. And if we need to sell more dogs, we will, though I’d like to keep our foundation stock so that we can keep breeding. But if worse comes to worst—”

“She’s right,” Mom said. “I never should have considered it. I’ll tell Mr. Sterns—”

“Who?”

“The man who’s buying the dogs. I’ll tell him we’re not selling the house.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Grandpa grabbed her sleeve. “The man buying the dogs—the one who wants Tumble—also wants to buy our property?”

Mom shifted uneasily. “He mentioned that he was looking for a place in the area. But I can see you don’t want to consider that.”

“What would we do?” Grandpa asked. “Where would we live?”

“I … don’t know.”

Robyn’s throat constricted as she watched Grandpa’s face. The unspoken thought hung in the air—that he might never go home to live with them again.

“I’d like to meet this fellow,” he said.

“Oh, that’s not necessary.” Mom leaned forward, her brow furrowed. “I’ll explain to him that I spoke prematurely. And I’m sorry. Truly sorry. I hadn’t stopped to consider how you or Robyn would feel before I mentioned it to him.”

“No, I’m serious.” Grandpa nodded. “If things are bad enough to make you think like that, then maybe we do need to take drastic measures. And even if we’re not selling more than a few team dogs to this man, I’d like to get a look at him. I’m a pretty good judge of character. I’d like to talk to him and make sure he knows how to handle good dogs. I won’t sell—or let Robyn sell—Holland dogs to just anyone. I’d rather starve first.”

Robyn’s pride welled up, and she wiped an errant tear from her cheek. She’d seen Grandpa turn away a buyer once because he’d heard the man treated his dogs poorly. “I love you, Grandpa.” She leaned down and kissed the top of his head.

Mom let out a sigh and managed a wobbly smile. “All right. Shall I call him and see if he can come here to meet you? He’s staying nearby in a hotel.”

“Sure,” Grandpa said. “I’ll put on my best bathrobe.”

Robyn laughed. “I’ll help you get ready. Anything you need, just ask me.” She looked at her mother. “And thanks, Mom. I think we’ll all feel better if Grandpa’s in on this decision.”

“You could handle the sale by yourself,” Grandpa said grudgingly. “You know enough about dogs—what they’re capable of and exactly what they’re worth.”

“Thanks for trusting me, but as you said, you’re a pretty good judge of people.”

“That’s because I’ve been around so long and met so many of them.”

Mom excused herself and went out into the hallway to call Mr. Sterns.

A staff member came in and retrieved Grandpa’s supper tray.

“You okay?” Grandpa asked Robyn.

“Yeah. I was pretty keyed up about this, but Mom and I prayed about it last night. We agreed we needed to bring you in on it. I’m glad you’re going to meet Mr. Sterns.”

“What’s he like?”

She shrugged. “I don’t like him, but I’m trying not to pass judgment on him unfairly. He doesn’t know a lot about dogs, and he’s just getting into sledding. He wants to do some racing right away. I’ve got to wonder if he wouldn’t work the dogs too hard at first.”

“Hmm. That can happen.” Grandpa opened the brownie box and held it out toward her. “Have one?”

“No, those are for you. We’ve got more at home.” He took one and she replaced the cover on the box.

Mom came back, wearing a businesslike smile. “Mr. Sterns would be happy to meet you. He’s having dinner with his real estate agent, but he can come by here around seven.”

Grandpa looked at the clock on the wall opposite the bed. “Why don’t you two go and eat? You’ve got almost two hours. You can get back in plenty of time.”

Mom looked at Robyn, and she nodded.

“All right, but you have to promise not to try to get up alone.”

He frowned at his daughter-in-law. “Me? Would I do that?”

Mom swatted lightly at his shoulder.

“We’d better go.” Robyn jumped up. “See you later, alligator—and we’re serious. Be good.”

They drove around the corner for hamburgers and milkshakes. Robyn wondered if Mom was reluctant to spend even a few dollars for the meal. She tried to keep the conversation on pleasant topics and described how well Darby was doing in her sled driving lessons.

Mom waited in the nursing home lobby for Sterns while Robyn went to Grandpa’s room to make sure he was ready. She helped him get his robe on. He wanted to move to the armchair, so Robyn called one of the staffers to help her, and they got him situated. She had to admit, he looked stronger and more capable sitting in the chair than he had lying down.

As the staffer straightened the bedclothes, Mom led Philip Sterns in and introduced him to Grandpa, a strained smile on her face.

“So, you want to buy some Holland Kennel dogs,” Grandpa said affably.

“Yes, sir. I made a list of three good breeding kennels before I flew up here, and yours was the top one. I knew the minute your granddaughter showed me your dog yard that I’d come to the right place.”

“That right?”

“Oh, yes. Everything’s shipshape. And your dogs have wonderful bloodlines. I read up on your dogs’ performances. That Chick line is what I want.”

Grandpa smiled. “Then I guess you know our Tumble is one of Chick’s sons.”

“He’s a fine-looking dog, and I think he’s perfect for my foundation stock.”

“So you want to breed dogs, as well as race.” Grandpa shook his head, still smiling. “That’s ambitious.”

“I know. But I never do things by halves.”

“Well, sir, why don’t you sit right down here and tell me about your experience with sled dogs. What sort of setup do you have in California?”

Grandpa knew the right questions to ask. Sterns soon relaxed and talked freely. After twenty minutes of talk about dogs, Grandpa brought up the property matter.

“Sounds like you might do all right if you start with well-trained dogs and have someone to advise you when you need it. But just so you know, I’m not ready to sell my property. My son and I bought the place twenty-five years ago, and it’s home. Cheryl and I talked about it a little tonight, and I just don’t want to sell.”

“That’s perfectly all right,” Sterns assured him. “I’ve been out all day looking at land, and I’ve seen a couple of places that might do for me.”

Grandpa nodded. “Well, Cheryl can hang on to your contact information in case we decide to sell later on, but for the time being, the Hollands are staying put.”

The nurse entered the room with a clipboard in her hand. “I’m sorry, folks, but Mr. Holland needs some rest now.”

“I’m sure he does.” Robyn jumped up, ready to help get Grandpa back to bed if she was needed.

Sterns said to Cheryl, “I’ll come up to Wasilla in the morning, then, and get the four dogs I’m buying, if that’s all right with you.”

“Uh, Mr. Sterns?” Robyn shot a quick glance at Grandpa.

“Yes?”

“We’re keeping Tumble. Grandpa and I agree he’s an essential part of Holland Kennel right now.”

Grandpa nodded. “That’s right. Tumble has never been for sale. But we can offer you one of his sons who would—”

A flicker of darkness crossed Sterns’s face and he exhaled sharply. “I thought we had a deal.”

Mom stepped forward with a look of alarm. “I believe you asked Robyn to think it over.”

“You’ve wasted my time.”

Robyn said hastily, “I’m sorry, sir, but we’re keeping Tumble. We haven’t advertised him for sale, and I told you yesterday I didn’t want to sell him. If that means you don’t want the three female dogs, either …”

He looked at her sharply then flicked a glance toward Grandpa, who sagged a little in his chair.

“Folks,” the nurse said, “I really must ask you to leave.”

Sterns locked gazes with Robyn again. “I’ll let you know tomorrow.”

Sterns exited abruptly, and Robyn and her mother kissed Grandpa good night and left.

“Mom, I’m sorry things went badly in there,” Robyn said as they walked toward the car.

“No, honey, don’t be. You were wonderful. He was rude and made assumptions he shouldn’t have made. I’ll be glad to see the back of him tomorrow.”

“Me, too.”

Mom smiled at her as she unlocked the car. “Are you sure you want to sell him any of your babies?”

Robyn swallowed hard. “I think we have to. We need to order more meat for the dogs, and we’ll have a lot of expenses while we get ready for the race. But I’m glad Grandpa wouldn’t sell Tumble.”

“So am I,” Mom admitted. “He personally raised that dog, and I know Tumble is one of his favorites.”

Robyn drove home and found Darby’s note saying her father had driven her over and helped her feed all of the dogs their suppers. The temperature had dropped to ten below zero. Robyn made a brief round of the kennels and made sure all of the animals were snug in their shelters. She’d put extra straw bedding in the doghouses that morning, and all were settled down for the night. The puppies slept together in a jumbled pile in their communal shelter. She checked the padlock on the barn, reflecting that if Sterns didn’t buy the dogs he’d picked out, she’d have to dip into her meager savings account to pay for the next shipment of dog food.

Snow began to fall as she went into the house. She took off her boots and work jacket near the back door.

Her mother, already in her bathrobe, sat at the kitchen table with a mug of tea. “Everything okay?”

“Yes,” Robyn said. She walked to the stove and lifted the teakettle. It held plenty of hot water, so she opened the cupboard to get herself a mug. As she turned around, the glow of headlights swept over the walls.

“Someone’s here.” Her mother rose and walked to the window. “Looks like Rick’s truck. I’m not dressed for company. Would you mind if I disappeared?”

“That’s fine.” A shiver of anticipation propelled Robyn to the front door before he even knocked. Over the last few days, Rick had paid a lot of attention to her and her family. Was it just neighborliness, or was her wish coming true? In the midst of the stress and sadness she’d encountered, Rick was the one bright spot of her days. But she didn’t dare count on that continuing. If he backed off once this crisis passed, the disappointment would be too great.