Wednesday Morning
Baileyville, ME
Vincent woke with a hangover and it took some effort to persuade him he couldn’t just go back to bed. Ginny made sure Mrs. Wildes was warmly thanked for her hospitality, then the trio set off for the truck stop.
From here, Vincent would drive to the dogsled staging area. Ginny and Charlie would meet him at the rendezvous. Ginny put a hand on Vincent’s arm. “This is for you.” She tucked a hundred dollars into his hand.
He looked at it and tried to protest. “I can’t take that.”
“For expenses. You’ll need more ammo at least.”
He hesitated, then smiled. “Thanks.”
“And Vincent,” Ginny stepped closer. “Thank you, for everything.” She put her arms around his neck and kissed him, thoroughly. He blushed, then kissed her back.
“You’re welcome!” He gave her a hug, then headed off.
Charlie was grinning as she got into the car.
“Not a word to Jim about that!”
“My lips are sealed!”
She’d had trouble figuring out what to put in the note she was leaving tacked to the bulletin board in the truck stop. It had to look innocent to everyone else, had to explain to Jim. He might not see it, but if he did, she was pretty sure he’d understand.
“You all set there?” she asked.
Charlie looked over at her and nodded. “Let’s roll!”
* * *
Wednesday Morning
Maine / New Brunswick Border
Charlie watched the approach of the sled, a combination of excitement and apprehension gnawing at his stomach. He’d had dogs, hunting dogs, his whole life and understood how to talk to them. He’d also had a crash course in sled dog signals. The weather was clear and the trail well marked. Should be okay.
The sled pulled up beside him and Vincent hopped off, letting Charlie take his place on the back.
“The dogs know the way. Just keep them moving.” He settled down in the basket.
Charlie climbed aboard, just as he'd been shown, shouted, “Hike!” and they were off.
It took his breath away to see how fast they were going. The dogs made a lot of noise. Happy noises. He’d been told they loved to run, loved to pull the sleds through the snow, loved the attention they got from their handlers. He could believe it. He knew a doggy smile when he saw one.
They turned a corner and Charlie noticed the woods thinning out. They were approaching the river.
“Will the ice hold?” Charlie shouted the question.
“It should.” Vincent shouted back over his shoulder.
Charlie hoped he was right. It had been warmer yesterday than the organizers had anticipated
“Hike,” he called to the dogs. They had slowed down, sniffing at the trail, using caution when stepping out onto the frozen surface. Charlie wondered if they knew something he didn’t. He could see the other side easily. All he had to do was stay between the markers.
There was no border crossing here. No official one, anyway. The Canadians waited on the other side at the next checkpoint armed, not with guns, but with stopwatches. He would be off the sled by then. He looked up river, noticing the movement of water in several areas. Not truly frozen after all, but as long as he stayed in the groove, they should be fine.
It was a beautiful day and under other circumstances he would have gotten a big kick out of this, but he was nervous and his casted leg ached with the motion of the sled. He’d be glad to get back into the car.
“Help!”
Charlie jerked his head in the direction of the sound. Had he heard something? Really?
“Help!”
A young voice. Female. Where was it coming from?
“Please, somebody!”
He had it now, over to the right, downriver, about a hundred yards. He could see a head above the edge of the ice.
“There’s someone in the water!”
“Where?” Vincent asked.
Charlie pointed. He knew if they stopped he would be putting his escape at risk, but he couldn’t just ignore a cry for help. His training, as well as his conscience, wouldn’t let him.
He finished the crossing, then brought the team to a halt.
“What are you doing?” Vincent demanded.
He stepped back out on the ice and moved carefully in the direction of the voice. It was a girl, clinging to the edge of the ice. It had broken under her weight. Hell! If the ice wouldn’t hold the girl’s weight, it certainly wouldn’t hold Charlie’s.
He looked around, trying to figure out how to approach her. He’d heard you could use slider boards, skis, sticks of wood, anything to extend your reach, and that you had to lie down flat on your stomach to spread the weight over more ice surface. Vincent had come up behind him. “Jeez!”
“Don’t come any closer. Do we have anything she can grab onto?”
“Wait a minute.” Vincent ran back to the sled and returned with the tarp that lined the basket. “Here.”
Charlie knelt down on the ice, then lay down flat and started to squirm.
“I’m coming. Stay very still.” He didn’t know where that came from, but it couldn’t hurt. The girl needed to listen and conserve her strength for the climb out.
“Here, mister!” Her teeth were chattering so hard she had trouble getting the words out.
“I see you.”
Charlie pushed the tarp along the ice, moving slowly and listening for cracking sounds. It wouldn’t do for both of them to go in.
“Take hold of the tarp.”
The girl tried, but her fingers no longer worked.
“Okay. Put the tarp between you and the ice, then grab the edge and hold on.”
Charlie had gotten as close as he dared. He was still about five feet from the edge of the ice, but he could see the spider web of cracks already in place.
He watched as the girl took a good, if clumsy, grip on the tarp.
“I’m going to back up. Don’t let go.”
The girl nodded.
Very slowly Charlie inched backward. He could feel when the girl’s weight crossed the line of ice and began to press down on the edge. The extra weight produced a series of cracking noises and Charlie paused for a moment, to let the ice settle, then slowly began again to pull the tarp, with the girl on it, back toward the woods.
It took him ten minutes of excruciatingly slow squirming to wriggle back to the point where Vincent stood. Between them, they hauled the tarp off the river. The girl lay on it, not moving, just gripping the edges and shivering. Charlie bent down and helped her climb to her feet, then pulled her close.
“Come on.”
They loaded the girl into the sled, Vincent’s arms around her, then set off toward the rendezvous point. Luckily, it was close. Five minutes brought them in sight of the hatchback.
“Let me handle this,” she said. She put her arm around the girl and hurried inside. She was back in ten minutes.
“That was fast.”
“I told them I needed the ladies room. Let’s go and keep your head down!”
She steered out onto New Brunswick Highway 1 and headed for Saint John. Once they were away from St. Stephen, Ginny looked over at him.
“What was that all about?”
Charlie shifted his leg carefully. It was beginning to hurt.
“She had fallen through the ice. We couldn’t just leave her.”
“No, of course not.” Ginny looked at him, a smile spreading across her face. “Welcome to Canada!”
* * *