Northern Rescue

By Shana Gray

A rough backcountry bush pilot gets more than he bargained for when a socialite in knee-high, stiletto leather boots, hires him to fly precious cargo from the icy north.

 

When Barrett is advised of the cargo he's been hired to fly south from the snowy north, he's reluctant to accept the job. But one look at the woman who's now his boss, makes him glad he did.

 

Frustrated with family expectations Beca is finding her own passion in the least likely place. Stranded in a cabin with sexy Barrett, she feels more at home with him than anyone else.

 

Cut off from the rest of the world by a raging blizzard, they discover survival isn't the only thing they want.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Shana Gray
• Release date: Aug 29, 2023
• ISBN: 9780994863553

Shana Gray

Now writing under her new  name, Shana will be published with Loveswept/Random House and Harlequin Blaze, as well she is an indie author.  Shana is represented by Louise Fury of The Bent Agency. Shana's passion is to enjoy life! She loves to travel and see the world, be with family, friends and experience the beauty that surrounds us. Much of her experiences find their way into her  books.  First published in 2010 as Cristal Ryder, Shana has written contemporary erotic romances for  Sybarite Seductions, Lyrical Press (now Kensington) and Ellora's Cave. Her stories range from scorching quickie length to longer erotic romance novellas. You can find Shana on social media at Twitter Facebook Pinterest She splits her time between her house in a small Ontario town with her twentysomething son's, four cats, two budgies and, as the world knows him, Meat Man's house. It's an adventurous challenge that she loves.

Book preview

1

I’ve always been one to take a challenge head-on. You know, jump right in with both feet and let whatever happens, happen—all those cliches. Maybe I’m a little too impetuous by nature. But c’est la vie . I look for the positive in most areas of life and I was optimistic there’d be one in this situation, too. There had to be.

I never worried about a safety net. Perhaps that was thanks to my privileged upbringing. I appreciated where I came from and was determined to do my best to make a difference. Somehow.

And that’s how I ended up in Churchill, Manitoba, the land of polar bears, with a pack of homeless dogs and in the middle of winter.

Eleven dogs waiting for me in the middle of nowhere. Waiting for me to fly them to their forever homes.

I’d been told there were only five. The pilot was expecting five. I could rehome five, but eleven?

Rebecca Gardner, you hate winter. Hate cold. What are you doing here? I snorted, and realized my nostrils were stuck together it was so cold.

I’m saving dogs! I told myself.

The handoff of the dogs at the small terminal was relatively easy. I shoved the envelope I was given into the front of my coat and hoped it wouldn’t fall out on the way to the plane.

The frigid temperature had almost numbed my fingers. I didn’t need to be told I should’ve dressed more appropriately for the conditions. I’d never been north before, so hadn’t experienced bitter cold. Not to mention I’d been more focused on the details of saving the dogs than my own comfort.

Maybe there was even a little bit of wanting to look good for the pilot I’d hired. Barrett Kingston was dangerously attractive with a wide smile and even white teeth behind his dark mustache and beard. I was especially caught by his eyes. Sparkling blue, ringed with dark lashes and arched brows. Shaggy hair that fell over his forehead. The type of man I rarely came across in my world.

Rugged. Yes, that was what I’d call him.

My skinny jeans, knee-high spike-heeled boots, fitted hip length pea jacket and fingerless gloves might be fine for wintry city streets but definitely not for this arctic weather. My hair whipped around my head and would be a complete rat’s nest by the end of the day.

What I wouldn’t give for a parka, hat, gloves and -100 degrees rated boots! I clenched my hands around the leashes, barely feeling them.

Eleven! Eleven dogs!

There was no way I’d leave any of them here. Where would they go? What would happen to them? Who would care for them? My heart ached for these poor lonely souls. They’d been shuffled around to foster homes after the shelter caught fire. They needed stability, love and permanent homes. Caring homes.

It was my job to make that happen.

I pulled on the leashes, trying to keep them in hand, and looked across the tarmac at Barrett’s plane. How was I going to explain this to him? I sensed a hesitancy in him and wasn’t sure why, I didn’t want to pry so I worked my magic on him. Finally, he succumbed to my persuasion and accept the job offer. And, I was glad he had.

The husky leaned into his collar, stepping up the pace, and the other dogs fell into the run with him, except the little ones. They were pulled behind, doing their best to keep up with their little legs.

I was yanked forward and nearly pulled off my feet. Imagine – me, sophisticated city girl, face planted and dragged along by a pack of dogs. Instead, I ran in mini-steps behind them, desperate to keep my footing. Cursing my stiletto boots.

Whoa, whoa, dogs! I shouted. Clearly, they had no understanding of voice commands.

I clutched all the leashes, desperate not to let any of them get away. I didn’t want to think what a debacle that would be, chasing almost a dozen runaway dogs around the small airport.

Easy now! I ordered through gritted teeth, positive the dogs had selective hearing.

The big dogs were powerful engines, drawing everyone along behind them. The leashes got all tangled and it was as if all the pups blended into one massive mess.

The Great Pyrenees and Golden Retriever lurched on their leashes, which fired up the husky. He let out a howl and leaned into his collar, yanking the bunch along, again almost jerking me off my treacherous and stupid heels. I scrambled for footing, clutching the leashes like a lifeline as I was hauled across the pavement, feet flying.

The image of a running Phoebe from Friends flashed through my mind. I couldn’t help myself and started to laugh, which was totally the wrong thing to do when I was flailing along behind the pack of dogs like an idiot.

Dogs. Stop! Heel, heel, heel, I yelled behind a bubble of laughter. Pleeeease. I begged them to listen to me and knew I was in a losing battle. Oh, doggies, heel.

If Tess, my friend waiting to pick me up at our airport a couple of hours north of Toronto, could see me now, she wouldn’t believe it and would’ve caught the whole scenario on video and posted it on social media. I knew the visual of an inappropriately dressed woman, handling a pack of dogs, running across an airport tarmac in the middle of winter wasn’t something you saw every day.

Gasping for breath, I managed to slow the unruly pups and steer them in the direction of the waiting plane. My arms and shoulders ached.

Finally, they settled to a walk, still pretty high-octane, but at least I had some semblance of control now. My heart pounded from exertion, and worry they’d get away from me. I simply couldn’t handle the thought of the dogs getting loose and having to herd them back together.

Their chorus of barks echoed across the tarmac and runway, offering perfect acoustics.

They just seemed so damn happy. Tails wagged and tongues lolled. Did they know a better life lay ahead for them?

Steering them in the general direction of the plane was like turning a big ship. Slow and arduous, but eventually we were all beelining it toward Barrett. Not for the first time I was concerned we wouldn’t all fit in the plane. I refused to leave any of them behind.

Barrett walked around the nose of the plane. He looked in my direction as I bore down on him with all the dogs. The expression on his face said it all. Surprise. Disbelief. Concern.

A scrawny little pooch escaped, her thin leash slipping through my fingers, and she took off like a bullet, which set the other dogs in an uproar. The bigger ones yanked against their leashes and once again, I found myself flailing along behind them.

Barrett! I screamed. Grab her!

The little one headed right for Barrett. He crouched with his arms out like a bat catcher, maneuvering himself into her path. She leapt into his arms and started licking his face. He wrapped both arms around her and, damn it, I could imagine how strong and safe she felt being held by him.

Hold on to her, I gasped as the lot of us came to a rambunctious halt in front of Barrett and his plane.

He stared at me for a second, then he looked at the dogs. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking and his shocked expression slid into an unreadable one. I was worried.

You said only five. He struggled with the little lady wriggling in his grasp and licking his face. He chuckled and I smiled as relief rushed through me.

I clutched the leashes tighter to avoid any more potential escapes.

I know. I was told five. I rushed my words and shrugged, keeping my voice light, hoping I sounded optimistic and like we could absolutely handle the extra pups. Look at all these happy faces. We simply can’t leave them behind.

I figured that maybe if I used we rather than I, he’d feel more connected to the dogs.

I waited and watched him gazing at the pack. Would he make a fuss and tell me I couldn’t bring them all? I shifted, my feet growing colder, as his silence drew out.

The poor things have nowhere to go since the shelter burned and there aren’t enough fosters in the area. I didn’t have to feign sadness; it was etched my voice.

I saw the muscle in his jaw flex.

I waited. If I could’ve crossed my fingers, I would have.

The dog he had in his arms had snuggled into him and he was petting her. I wasn’t sure he realized what he was doing as I watched his fingers twirl her ears.

He sighed. Not sure how we’re supposed to fit them all on the plane, but…

Well, we can put them in the back and block them from coming forward so they won’t bother you while you’re flying. I’ll do my best to keep control of them. I promise. I held my breath. What was he going to say?

He shook his head and my heart