“She’s going to spread rumors around town that don’t have a lick of truth in them!  What were you thinking?!  I mean, Cindy’s just as bad as Dixie!”

Maybe even worse.  “Sorry,” Wedge apologized.  “I need to get some air.”

And with that, he paced out the door.

                                                            *

“Sorry I’m late, Mom.  I was—Mom?”

Wedge poked his head into the parlor where he expected his mother to be.  “Mom?” he repeated.  “Dad?”  Where’d they go?

“Wedge!  We’re in the kitchen!”

Wedge followed his mother’s voice.  He saw his mother, along with his irritated-looking father.  “Ehm, what seems to be the problem?”

He quickly regretted asking the question.

“I saw you with that wolf-dog at the boiler room today,” Evon rumbled.

“We may be on to something at who’s behind the dogs—I think they’re wolves—in town.  Sirmiq, the wolf-dog that lives on the outskirts may be their leader.  We think she got separated—“

“Enough’s enough,” Evon cut in, “I deliberately told you I never, repeat, never wanted to see you with the half breed again.”

“He’s my friend—“

“Wedge!  He’s part wolf.  Remember what I told you about wolves?”

Wedge remembered all right.  His father had been on a late run one night when a pack of predatorial wolves attacked them.  Evon returned home with a limp, the musher had several deep wounds, and over than half of the team had been killed.  Since then, Evon disgusted wolves, along with half-breeds; including Balto.  When Balto had returned with the serum for the diphtheria epidemic, Evon didn’t even give him a comment of satisfaction.  He wasn’t like Steele; he just wasn’t all that crazy about wolves.

“Yes,” Wedge said, staring at the floor.

“Look at me when you’re talking.”

Wedge pulled his gaze from the floor and at Evon’s flaming eyes.  I won’t go near any wolves when your near, just behind your back.  “Sorry,” he said.

“Sorry, what?”

“Sorry, Sir.  May I be excused?”

Carolina spoke before Evon could object.  “Certainly.  Go ahead, your father needs some time to cool down.”

Tail tucked between his legs, Wedge crawled away.

Evon moved to leave, but Carolina placed a paw on him.  “You’re worried about that run.”

Evon was about to tell her he wasn’t, but Carolina held a steady, firm look in her eyes.

“Yes.  Yes, I am.  Is there a law against being nervous?”

Carolina let out a faint smile, one that Evon knew very well.  “No, but your way of showing it isn’t helping.  I’ve noticed ever since we became mates that when you’re nervous you act mad.”  Carolina nuzzled him under the chin.  “It’s OK to show your true feelings every now and then.”

Evon nestled her back.  “You’re right.  I’ll try to stop that habit.”

Inwardly, Carolina still felt concerned for Evon’s welfare.  A storm was blowing in, and it didn’t look like a light one either.

                                                            *

Carolina was tormented by nightmares of Evon falling of cliffs or getting lost in The Bering Sea all throughout the night.  She was startled when Evon woke her up the next morning.  “Carol, you were kicking me in your sleep last night.  Were you getting back at me for something I did?”  Evon asked half jokingly.  Still a little jumpy, Carolina stayed lying down and looked up at Evon.  “I had nightmares.  About you.”

“Me?” Evon asked, raising an eyebrow.  “You were falling off cliffs, drowning in seas, getting lost in blizzards—The list’s endless.”

“Did it have to do with anything I said last night?”

Carolina shook her head.  “No, I’m concerned about you being on this run.  It’s dangerous, and plus there’s a nasty storm blowing in.  Drop out, please, for me.”

Evon got out of the basket and stretched.  “I can’t, we’re leaving in a half an hour.”

He licked Carolina on the cheek.  “I’ll be fine, ‘K?  Wedge’ll take care of you, and when I come back you and I can have some time alone; just you and me.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.  Now I have to go meet up with the team.  I’ll see you on the sidelines when we leave,” Evon said as he neared the door.  Carolina watched him leave and went to wake up Wedge.  She stole a look at one of the windows as she passed by the baby’s room.  The clouds looked dark and foreboding.  I sure hope you know what your getting yourself into, Evon.

Wedge and his mother sat at the edge of the track, waiting for Evon’s team to leave.  Wedge had always been excited at seeing his dad’s team whiz by in a flurry of snow and fur.  He didn’t like racing much, but watching the event seemed equally fulfilling.  Now was the time when his intestines would feel like live butterflies were fluttering inside.  Matt waved at him from the other side of the street, and Wedge pretended not to see him.

“There they are!” shouted a dog.  Evon’s team came up and the musher exchanged some words with the general store owner before calling: “Hike!”

Evon in the lead lunged forward like a tugboat on a heavy ocean liner, pulling the other dogs and sled into motion.  Evon barked at Carolina and Wedge as he passed by, ran down Main Street, and disappeared out of view.  “Well, that’s that,” Carolina remarked.  “I’ll be visiting.  Meet me back at the house by Twelve O’clock.”

“OK.”  Wedge picked out a black and tan husky from the crowd confronting another dog that was half hidden from sight in the shadows.  Well, the black and tan’s Cindy, no doubt, but who’s that with her?  Wedge inched closer and recognized the ‘dog’ as Sirmiq, the wolf-dog.

“What’ve you been telling your minions to do, hmmm, Sirmi?”  Wedge heard Cindy say.  The wolf-dog looked exasperated.  “What are you talking about?!  I didn’t tell them to start picking off dogs left and right!”

“So you are their leader!”  Cindy’s eyes glittered.

“I’m not!”  Sirmiq objected.  Wedge’s shadow fell over Cindy’s body.   “Can’t you see we’re having a conver—Oh, hi Wedge.”

“Stop bothering her, Cindy.  She didn’t do anything.”

Cindy’s chestnut eyes narrowed.  “Tell that to my friends.”

Oh, Cindy!  You told the whole town a huge lie!  Wedge bristled and nudged Sirmiq deeper into the alley.  “Why don’t you learn to keep your big, fat mouth shut for once,” Wedge snapped.  “Let’s go, Sirmiq.  I’ll take you home.”

Wedge left Cindy beside herself, fuming with rage.

For the most of the trip to Sirmiq’s housing, both dogs were silent.  Sirmiq was the first to speak.  “Why’d you help me?  I’m a hybrid, y’know.  Dog normally turn their noses up at me.”

Wedge hesitated at replying.  “I think everyone should be treated equal, no matter what size, shape, color, breed”—he looked Sirmiq in the eye—“ or even cross-breed they are.”

Sirmiq smiled for the first time.  “I like your way of thinking.”

She stopped at some run down houses.  “We’re here.”

Wedge took in the view.  It wasn’t exactly “Home Sweet Home”; to be put plainly, the place looked like a dump.  “Will I see you again some other time?” Sirmiq inquired.  Wedge grinned ear to ear.  “Sure, but how about I come here instead of you coming to my place?”

“Parents?” Sirmiq asked in a dull tone.  Wedge nodded.  “Both are dogs.”

She sighed.  “I understand.  Would you be able to come see me at least once a week?  As you can see, I don’t get much company,” Sirmiq noted, sweeping her arm in an intake motion of the ruddy street.  “I’ll be here every Wednesday, I swear.”

“OK.”

Sirmiq started to run towards a dark green, boarded up house with paint chipping when she skidded to a halt.  She came back to Wedge and licked him on his hair tuft.  Surprised, wedge stared at her.  “What was that for?”

“My way of saying thank you.”

And with that, Sirmiq vanished into a hole in the

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