Page 17 of Honoring Lena

Nine

Marshall’s jawdropped as he stared out the window at the homestead below them while the helicopter made its decent. The Rebel Ranch sat on the east side of a wide valley surrounded by mountains that jutted to the sky. Yet, it wasn’t really a ranch at all.

A large log cabin that could easily be featured on any upscale magazine was in the middle of a huge manicured lawn. Birch, aspen, and spruce surrounded the lawn like a reminder that the Alaskan wilderness waited patiently to claim the land as its own. A small creek meandered along one side of the open area, weaving in and out of the trees. Smaller cabins were placed along the creek. Tucked a short walk behind the house, a lake sparkled in the late morning sun, complete with a moose chomping on grass.

Bjørn continued past the main homestead to a landing strip sliced through the trees. Three small planes, quintessentially Alaskan, parked next to a hangar. Exactly what kind of family did Lena come from?

“I thought you said this was a ranch?” He turned and looked between the Rebel siblings.

Lena’s mouth turned up on one side as she gazed out her window. That small action shouldn’t enthrall him, especially since he was still upset with her. Though she’d had two and a half more days of travel after that first night to clue him in to exactly what was going on, she’d avoided every chance they had to talk. Why couldn’t she just tell him? He deserved to know, especially since it involved Amara’s death and the border bill that caused her murder.

Bjørn threw his head back and laughed, drawing Marshall back to the present. “My dad started calling it Rebel Ranch back when they first bought it. Said the name had a nice ring to it.” Bjørn checked his gauges and window. “The only animals we’ve ever had are dogs and some annoying chickens my ma babies. The place used to be an old roadhouse along the original highway south toward Anchorage. My parents bought the place, tore down the original building that was falling apart, and built their cabin. Over the years, they’ve fixed up the original small guest cabins, one that John Wayne stayed in when he was filming North to Alaska, and built the other guest cabins. It’s gone from a rundown memory to a world-renowned, semi-private retreat. They don’t have any guests this week, because of the party, so we’ll have the place all to ourselves.”

The skids touched down, and Bjørn flipped switches to shut down the engine. Marshall unbuckled and turned to get Carter. Lena already had him out and scrambling to get for the door. Marshall pushed down his frustration. Even when he tried to be a better dad to Carter, he was too slow in jumping to action. Would he ever be able to be the father Carter needed? He shook the question off and grabbed gear as he exited. It didn’t help that Lena was great at taking care of his son. What a stupid thing to think. Marshall should be glad that she knew what she was doing, not jealous.

A large, white wolf barreled out of the trees with a vicious bark that rose all the hairs on Marshall’s body. He rushed to Carter, who had frozen at the sight of the beast, and lifted his small, trembling body into his arms. Could they get back into the helicopter before the animal attacked?

“Snowflake, no. Calm down.” Lena commanded the dog with laughter in her voice.

Marshall turned back to the wolf that wasn’t a wolf, his fear transforming to shock as the giant crouched low to the ground, its entire body shaking as its tail wagged. “Snowflake?”

“Embarrassing, isn’t it?” Bjørn walked behind him and clapped Marshall on the shoulder as he strapped down the skids. “Our youngest sister named him.”

“What exactly is he?” Marshall tightened his hold on Carter as the dog cocked his head to the side like he was deciding if they would taste good.

“He’s a Great Pyrenees.” Lena rubbed Snowflake’s oversized, hairy head. “My parents keep him around to protect the place from predators. Come on over here, and I’ll introduce you.”

A hint of a dare edged her voice. Great. Another reason for Lena Rebel to think less of him. At least he’d grabbed up Carter in his puppy terror. He pushed his shoulders back and strode to where she kneeled.

“Come on, Carter. Let’s go meet Snowflake.” Marshall bent next to Lena and reached his hand out to let Snowflake sniff.

Carter trembled in Marshall’s arms and buried his face into Marshall’s neck. His tiny arms squeezed so tight, Marshall’s head might pop off. He sat crisscross in the rough grass and rubbed his son’s back.

“Hey, buddy. It’s okay.” Marshall tried to peel Carter off of him, only causing his little bands of steel to squeeze harder. “Carter, Snowflake here is a friendly dog. He helps keep people safe, and he’s really nice. Don’t you want to meet him?”

Carter shook his head, his nose rubbing against Marshall’s neck. Marshall peeked at Lena, but she just shrugged and continued petting the dog. A lot of help she was. He rubbed his fingers through Snowflake’s soft fur by his ear.

“Wow, Carter, you should feel how soft Snowflake’s fur is.” He hoped he pulled off excitement while keeping his tone calm.

The dog licked Marshall’s hand and nudged it when he stopped petting. Marshall chuckled, scratching behind the big ear. As the dog groaned in contentment and thundered his massive tail against the dirt, Carter peeked up at Marshall’s face.

“Noflake nice, Daddy?” Interest flashed through the worry on Carter’s face.

Marshall smiled down at Carter as he patted him on the back. “Yeah, squirt. Snowflake is nice.”

Carter turned to the dog, though he still pushed up against Marshall’s body. Marshall wrapped one arm around Carter’s stomach to help him feel protected and grabbed his son’s hand with his other. The importance of this moment crashed over Marshall. He was helping his son overcome a fear, maybe for the first time ever. Why had he kept himself so busy and missed out on so much?

“If you hold your hand up like this, Snowflake will sniff you and see if he wants to be your friend.” Marshall held Carter’s hand toward the dog’s nose.

When Snowflake stretched out his snout, Carter pulled his hand back and shook his head. “Me scared.”

Marshall hugged Carter tightly. “I know you’re scared, buddy. Snowflake is a big dog.” Marshall smiled as Snowflake laid his body on the ground, whined, and inched himself closer. “I think Snowflake really wants to be your friend. He’s sad you’re scared of him.”

Lena’s hand stilled where it had been languidly petting the dog’s side. Had he said something wrong again? She rubbed her lip with her other fingers as she stared at Marshall. She offered him a small smile that quickly faded, and looked down at Snowflake, who whined pathetically. Did the smile mean he was doing good?

“Me don’t want Noflake sad.” Carter’s tiny hand shook as he reached it toward the dog.

Snowflake stilled except the minuscule tap of his tail, like he knew he scared Carter. Carter held his hand in front of the dog’s nose, glancing up at Marshall for reassurance. Marshall nodded and smiled.

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