Ice Dogs Read Free

watch him walk over to Cook’s team next, and I kneel down to bury my face in Gazoo’s neck ruff.
    â€œI wonder what brings the Endurance food rep out to this race,” Uncle Leonard says. “Think he’s looking for the next team to sponsor?”
    â€œYeah. And I didn’t say anything except to tell him I shop in the kids section.”
    â€œI think he senses a winning team.” Uncle Leonard claps me on the shoulder as I stand. The softness in his eyes looks so familiar, I get an ache in my throat.
    â€œYeah. Now we really need to up our training. Wouldn’t that be something to win the White Wolf?” I take off the dogs’ harnesses as I look over at Cook’s team. A new plan starts to form.

3
Sunday
    â€œI’ M NOT TAKING YOU TO ANOTHER dog yard.” My mom thumps her briefcase down on the kitchen counter and grabs her cheese and cucumber sandwich from the fridge. “Jeremy Cook’s dogs aren’t any better than the ones you already have. A dog’s a dog, Vicky. And we’ve already got too many.”
    â€œWell, that shows how much you know about it, since a dog is definitely not a dog.” I raise my chin and stare at her.
    Every time we have this fight about the dogs, I brace myself. For months now I’ve been waiting for her to say she wants to move back to Seattle. I can see it in her eyes when she talks about growing up in the city. Whenever Nana calls, I know she’s trying to talk Mom into moving closer to her.
    She looks at me as if I’ve just proved her point. “You have sixteen dogs to choose from. I’m sure your uncle can figure out which ones to run in the wolf race.”
    â€œThe White Wolf. And he doesn’t choose, I do.
Dad
taught me to choose.” I know it’s a dirty card to play, but I do what I have to. And if she tells me we’re moving, I already know what I’m going to say. She can move if she wants, but I will choose to stay. The dogs and I are staying, end of discussion.
    She presses her lips into a thin line and a heavy silence descends around us. If she knew dogs, she’d see why I need a couple of Cook’s leaders. Even just two of his best race leaders may mean all the difference for us. I wish she knew dogs. A cold ache spreads through my body and I miss Dad as if the loss were fresh.
    â€œI don’t have time for this today.” Mom breaks the stalemate with a slump of her shoulders. “I have to work.”
    â€œOf course you do.”
    â€œMake sure you do your homework,” she says, ignoring my tone. “And can you make dinner for us? I should be home around five.”
    Mom grabs her gear for the open house, sees my sixth-place ribbon from yesterday on the table, and hesitates. She turns back to me. “Oh, Vicky. I’m sorry I forgot to ask you how your race went. You did well.”
    I shrug. She looks tired and drawn, her eyes peering out of sunken sockets. I suddenly notice how much older she seems, as if she’s aged a lifetime this past year. Well, so have I.
    She opens her mouth as if she’s going to say something, then runs a hand through her graying blond hair and turns away. Our conversations have stuttered like this since the coffee shop incident.
    The bell hanging from the doorknob tinkles and I’m alone.
    The dogs outside begin a howl, the song gaining strength as all the dogs join in. I can pick out the individual voices. Bean isn’t hard to pick with that awful bawling—his version of a howl. He’s got a little too much hound in him. Drift’s voice is gorgeous, full and throaty like a wolf howl.
    Listening to them makes me more determined to carry out my plan with or without Mom’s support. Her car crunches over the snow as she backs out of the driveway, leaving the dog truck just sitting there. I can’t talk Cook down in price over the phone; I need to do it in person. And I need to check out all his dogs.