21
Gunnar finished spooning the last of the dog food soup into the dog bowl and turned to the series of interconnected, long, half-tubed tents used for the checkpoints. He’d seen similar used in Antarctica, regions of the Himalayas, and at pop-up military bases, but Mason had gone all out with the ridiculous length.
Why would they need a structure that large for a one-night stay? It had to be a pain to breakdown and construct at each checkpoint the farther the expedition team got to the North Pole. Waste of time and money, but then again, it wasn’t Gunnar’s dollar.
He pushed the door open for the first time since they’d arrived and froze at the chaos before him. A field of reporters huddled in groups of two and three, chattering like an unkindness of ravens. The phrase that so perfectly fit the birds, also fit the people.
Tucking his head to avoid being recognized, Gunnar weaved through the press area to a section of the tent lined with computers. Saylor leaned over the shoulder of a person at a computer, examining the screen. The scowl on her face said whatever she saw there wasn’t good news.
“Where’s Julie?” He stepped up to Saylor while he scanned the rest of the room.
“Things are good here. Thanks for asking.” Saylor glared at the screen, not looking at Gunnar.
“Sorry.” Gunnar lifted his hands in surrender.
Being friendly with the fire-breathing dragon guarding the princess might go a long way toward his happy ending. His lips twitched at the image that flitted through his head of Saylor billowing smoke. He’d do whatever he could to show Saylor he didn’t mean Julie any harm, that a life together like it always should have been was his goal now.
Seeing Julie at the top of the pressure ridge, struggling on her own, solidified his purpose in his core. He didn’t want another day to pass without her in it. Didn’t want to summit life’s struggles without her hand in his.
“Let me know if that weather system shifts.” Saylor patted the desk jockey on the shoulder and faced Gunnar, crossing her arms over her chest. “What happened out there?”
“Sea ice happened.” He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth until he could rein in his frustration. “Look, I know you don’t like me. I don’t like myself too much, either.” He huffed and unzipped his coat as Saylor’s expression softened, and she dropped her arms. “It’s been a long, horrible day, and I just want to make sure Julie’s okay.”
Saylor glanced at the door in the back of the room separating the computers from the rest of the temporary building. Her hands flexed into fists as her jaw shifted in thought. He didn’t need her directions. It wouldn’t take much to find Julie, but if he wanted a relationship with her to last, he needed to make peace with her cousin.
Saylor nodded as she came to some kind of internal decision, then stepped right up into Gunnar’s space. Fire burned him from her glare, but he caught a hint of worry there as well. She poked him in the chest… hard.
“I don’t know what your end game is, Rebel, but if you hurt her again, I will hunt you down, drug you, tie your arms to your dog team, and have them pull until your limbs rip from your body. Then I’ll boil them up and serve them to your dogs. Capeesh?” Without a doubt, Saylor would follow through with the threat.
“Got it.” Gunnar swallowed.
She was scarier than a lot of the men he’d seen in the military.
“Good. Follow the tent to the end. That’s where the vet is.” Saylor pointed to the door, then stomped past Gunnar, yelling as she left. “Ron, we need to make sure we restock the sleds.”
Gunnar took a deep breath, glad the gatekeeper had left, then made his way to the door. Katie Cullens talked with a helper at another desk, her recorder shoved so close to the man he could lick it. Gunnar tucked his chin down and tried to make himself blend in. He’d almost made it past Katie when she glanced up. Her eyes widened, and a satisfied smirk graced her lips.
“Lieutenant Rebel, a word, please.” She shoved her recorder in front of Gunnar.
“Busy.” He went to step past, but she shifted, just like she had in Utqiagvik.
If any reporter fit the name of a group of ravens, she did. Unkind. Calculating. He could see her spinning a tale from bits of half-truths, looking at how she could angle a story to her benefit.
“Whose carelessness caused the dog’s injury? Do you think the animal will survive or has another musher sacrificed an innocent being for their own glory?” The rise of her eyebrow and thoughtless words ignited Gunnar’s already short fuse.
He stepped closer, crowding her space and using his height to his advantage. “Every single one of us loves our dogs. We’d rather be injured than them, but accidents happen. Your heartless questions prove you don’t get it. Don’t get Alaskans.”
The hard, calculating mask fell as she moved back a step. Eyes darting anywhere but at him, her chin trembled, and he almost felt sorry for pushing. She squared her shoulders and turned her gaze back on him, her remorse short-lived.
Gunnar shook his head as he scanned the room. Mason and Clark huddled in a corner. Clark leaned in close to Mason, his cheeks red as he whispered to his best friend. Mason shook his head and crossed his arms. Gunnar should probably see what was going on with them, but Julie came first.
“Lieutenant Rebel, what about the fact that the expedition isn’t going as planned? Your team should’ve arrived at this latitude two days ago.” Katie’s question forced his attention back to her. Though her voice had recovered its strength, one arm crossed over her stomach like she held herself strong.
“If you have questions, ask Mason.” Gunnar pointed to the corner where Mason and Clark still argued.
Her arm dropped from her stomach and eyes narrowed. Gunnar may have just sent a cunning raven to his friends to peck for answers, but he didn’t care. Julie needed him, and he wasn’t about to let her down again.