In the back of the ambulance, Josh sat with his dad, making sure he stayed wrapped up and warm. Once he saw that Bruce was situated as comfortably as possible, he had calls to make—like to Viktor, to get him out here with the trailer to pick up the dogs, and Maggie to let her know what had happened—but the first person he called was Jack.

His brother picked up on the second ring. “Josh? Is everything okay?”

“Jack! I’m at the Denali Visitor Center. I’m in an ambo with Dad heading back to town. It looks like he’s got pneumonia. Fever, wheezing, blue tint to his lips. Plus, he’s lethargic and confused.”

“Did it just come on out of nowhere?” Jack asked, his tone worried. “Was he like that this morning?”

Josh detected a hint of consternation. “Of course not,” he said. “He was coughing a little, and I told him to stay home if he was feeling sick, but he insisted he was okay. I guess when he got out here and was working in the cold, he took a turn for the worse. I found him in the tent like this.”

“And you’re en route to the hospital now?”

“Yeah, to Regional,” Josh said. “And Jack?”

“Yeah?”

“Dad said he’s sorry. He thought I was you, and he wanted you to know he’s sorry.” There was a long pause during which he waited for his brother to respond. “You want me to say anything back? Like maybe you forgive him for whatever the hell happened between you all those years ago?”

The continued silence meant no. Jack would offer his father no such comfort.

“I’ll see you soon, little brother,” Jack said instead.

Josh disconnected without saying goodbye.

* * *

The Golden Falls Regional Medical Center had a small ICU containing four beds. The next day found Bruce resting comfortably with Josh, Maggie, and Jack all squeezed into the cramped room, fitting themselves around monitors, backing out of the way when the nurse on duty needed to attend to him. Maggie, off shift by then, remained in uniform, one eye always on the numbers coming from the various monitors. She’d assured her brothers everything looked good—and, indeed, Josh could see Bruce’s breathing wasn’t as labored. His fever had dropped, and he looked to be on the mend. A rapid test had revealed bacterial pneumonia, and Bruce had been on an antibiotic drip within fifteen minutes after the results.

As the Barnes siblings sat surrounding their sleeping father, the minutes turned into hours.

“I’m surprised you’re still here,” Josh said to Jack when the clock struck noon.

“I’m here for you and Maggie,” Jack said. “Not him.”

Maggie rolled her eyes. “Please.”

“Don’t bother,” Josh said. “We’ve gotten on without you all these years.”

“So should I leave, then?”

Josh sighed. Bruce might find it a hopeful sign that Jack had stayed, and some small piece of hope remained in Josh, too, that Jack might choose the road toward making amends with their father.

“No, you should stay,” Josh told Jack.

They fell into an exhausted silence again. Maggie had just gotten off her twelve-hour overnight shift, while Jack had been up all night after taking family leave from his shift. Josh, too, hadn’t slept for nearly thirty-six hours, in addition to racing in sub-zero temperatures the day before.

“My goodness, you all look like shit,” a voice said from the doorway. “Worse than your father.”

It was Claire Roberts, looking stylish and fit and decidedly more lively than any of them. ICU rules forbade non-family visitors, but Claire was on the hospital’s board of directors—and rules didn’t usually apply to her, anyway.

The Barnes children all started to stand, but she gestured for them not to. Josh and Jack did regardless, and Josh took the vase of flowers Claire carried, leaving her holding a covered tray of what he guessed to be food of some sort.

“It’s so sweet of you to bring my dad flowers,” Maggie said. “He’ll be so happy.”

“He is so happy,” Bruce said, having woken up from the commotion of a new visitor. He cleared his throat, but otherwise he sounded strong, which was a relief to Josh. When they were out at the checkpoint, he’d been worried Bruce might need to be intubated.

Claire went over to Bruce and put her hand on his shoulder.

“How’s this tough old goat of a retired cop?” she asked.

“He’s been better.” Bruce smiled. “But he’s on the mend. What have you got there?”

“Oh!” Claire peeled back the foil covering the rectangular metal tray. “Hayley made this for you. She said it’s an early Christmas present.”

Josh’s heart stuttered at the mention of Hayley.

“Lime green Jell-O squares!” Bruce’s eyes sparkled. “Tell me, are there maraschino cherries in them?”

Claire laughed. “You bet there are. I’m pretty sure they’re non-alcoholic, though.”

“Hayley’s amazing.” Bruce shook his head in admiring disbelief. “I mentioned to her on Thanksgiving how lime green Jell-O with maraschino cherries was my favorite—and to think she remembered it.”

“She’s a pretty special woman,” Claire said.

Yes, she is, Josh thought, remembering how touched he’d been when she’d brought him hot cocoa on Veteran’s Day and made sure he got a special bowl of chili at dinner. His chest ached as he watched his father’s delight at her thoughtful gift.

“So what happened?” Claire asked. “How did you end up here?”

Josh told the bulk of the story, which included an admonishment to Bruce for not revealing how bad he felt leading up to the race.

“I knew you needed me,” Bruce said.

Claire’s sympathetic eyes fell on Josh. “It must have been heartbreaking to have to drop from the race.”

“Not at all,” Josh said. “I didn’t give it a moment’s thought.”

“Well, that’s saying something,” Jack said.

Josh’s eyes cut to Jack. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Figure it out.”

“He’s suggesting maybe racing’s not so important to you after all,” Maggie said. She crossed her arms in a See? kind of gesture, but a slight smile played at her lips.

Josh waited to feel a burst of indignation or defensiveness, but the emotions didn’t surface. He really didn’t care he’d had to drop from the race. He didn’t care how it would set back his training preparations. He realized he didn’t even care whether he ran the Iditarod or not. He still loved mushing—and had been relieved to get a text from Viktor earlier that morning that he’d gotten the dogs loaded onto the trailer and was headed back to the kennel—but the idea of the Iditarod seemed like a small thing in that moment.

“Just think what you could do with all the money you’d have if you stopped racing,” Maggie said, pressing on in light of Josh’s lack of pushback.

“I could put in a new bathtub,” Josh said.

Everyone laughed.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

The others looked at each other.

“It’s just a strange thing to say,” Bruce said. “Have you been secretly longing for a new bathtub?”

“I have, actually,” he said, looking at Claire. “You know, Claire—like the one you’ve got in Hayley’s place. It’s a thing of beauty. I love that bathtub.”

Claire’s eyes twinkled. “Maybe it’s not the bathtub you love.”

Josh knew she was right. It wasn’t the bathtub he loved.

It was Hayley.