It didn’t take long to finish the dog’s exercise with the added weight of Henry on the sled, and soon they were back at the kennels, their journey together over.
“C’mon, Fred.” Scarlett released her favorite dog, a Malamute who ran as a wheel dog for the team, from the harness and led him back over to his house. When she finished retying him, she turned to see Henry marching through the rows of houses as Wendy led him to her place.
She watched as he completed the task quickly and competently.
“You’re kind of a natural at this,” she admitted when Henry returned to her side.
“I love dogs,” he said with a wistful glance back toward Wendy. “Once when I was little, maybe seven, I snuck out to granddad’s kennels to play with his, and I was so shocked by the mess and how skinny and angry they all were. All I could do was stand there and cry until my mom came to bring me back inside.”
“That must have been awful,” she said, placing a consoling hand on his arm.
Henry nodded. “It was. I wanted to help, but I couldn’t do a single thing for them. When I got a little older, I realized some people lived like that, too. Not tied up, per se, but hungry, tortured, angry. It’s what made me want to be a doctor.”
She recognized the passion in his voice. It was the same in hers whenever she talked about books or dog sledding. She couldn’t imagine life without either. “You still could be,” she pointed out, even though she knew it couldn’t be that simple.
“No, my family has made that clear.” He laughed and ran a gloved hand over his head. “You know, most parents want their kids to grow up to be doctors. Not mine.”
“I had no idea.”
“Nobody does, Scarlett.” She loved how her name sounded coming from his mouth and was glad she had given it to him. “Nobody understands. They just see me as a rich brat. They look at me and they see him.”
“I see you,” she said, taking a step closer. “At least now I do.” Like that first night at the ball, she wanted to kiss him now. But she knew it would only complicate both their lives further.
He took a step to the side as if he, too, were fighting the urge to press their lips together. “That means everything.”
They needed to keep talking. Too extended a silence would either mean giving in to their urges, and they both knew they couldn’t do that. She asked, “Why can’t you be who you really are in your interviews?”
“You know why. If I botch this bucket list thing, then my entire family loses everything. I need the attention to get sponsors, to have a fighting chance of making it.” He sighed and kicked his foot at a patch of ice beneath the snow.
“And then what?”
“I haven’t gotten that far yet. I’m terrified of failing. And no one in the sledding community will touch me, not knowing what Granddad did. Lauren and Shane weren’t the first I tried to hire, but no amount of money is enough, it seems.”
She had no doubt. The sport community was a tight-knit one. If one turned him out, they all would. Not even Lauren’s big heart was enough to give him the whisper of a chance. In fact, she seemed even more furious than the rest when she’d spotted him here, and…
Oh, no.
“Lauren and Shane will be home soon,” she said, hoping her panic wasn’t obvious. “Maybe you could tell them what you told me. Maybe they can still help.”
“No, I can’t. I shouldn’t even have told you, but I couldn’t stand the thought of you hating me… of thinking I’m like him.”
“Then you need to leave before they come back.” She hated to send him away, but she knew they couldn’t be caught together.
“I know. I hope when this is all over, maybe I can see you again?”
She looked away, back toward the dogs, unwilling to look him in the eyes as she lied. “Maybe.”
“Goodbye, Scarlett.” Henry looked like he wanted to say more, but he simply stuck his hands in his pockets and walked back toward his car.
“Goodbye,” she whispered after him.
Scarlett stood still and watched as he moved away from her. The anchor that tied them together had returned, but this time, she didn’t want it to break. She didn’t want to be another in the long line of people who had let him down, who refused to give him a chance. She couldn’t do anything about his family problems, but perhaps she could help him with this one small thing. Perhaps she could make a difference, after all.
“Wait!” she called across the valley.
Henry turned and waited as she jogged up to him.
“Give me your phone,” she said, only slightly out of breath.
When he handed it over, she punched in a number before giving it back to him. “That’s Ben Benjamin’s number. He’s a friend. I’ll talk to him. He’ll help you. You don’t have to give up.”
He nodded and something glistened in his mismatched eyes. She felt so much for him in that moment: pity, awe, admiration, maybe even the beginnings of love. Before she could stop herself, she wrapped him in a tight hug—a hug of friends but also so much more. Even though Henry had his own things to work out, she hoped they might meet again one day when the timing was better. Until then, at least he had abated her anger—and what a beautiful gift that was.
“Good luck,” she said as they broke apart. “I’m rooting for you.”
And now she was. She really was.