Sorry for the short chapter, but I have had some writer's block lately. Enjoy what I've got, I'll probably add more later.
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Nome
Jenna stood outside the door of Rosie's hospital room, her ear against the wood, listening in on the doctor's conversation with Rosie's father.
"She's just getting worse," Rosie's father sighed. "Isn't there anything you can do before the medicine gets here?" he asked, knowing his words were in vain.
"There isn't much else I can do," Dr. Welch sighed. "I've already given her all the antibiotics I can. They will help heal what the diphtheria has already infected, but it won't stop the disease from spreading. For that, we can only pray that the team comes through with the antitoxin. Without it, I'm afraid Nome's children have little chance of survival."
Jenna heard Rosie's father scratch his head and sigh. "Thanks, Dr. Welch, for all your help," he said, distraught. Jenna heard footsteps coming toward the door and backed away as Rosie's father pushed it open and stepped out. "Come on, Jenna," he said, scratching behind her ear; she couldn't help but smile for a moment. "Time to go." She followed, looking back at Rosie through the crack in the door as it swung shut, and whined lowly. Rosie's father stroked the fur on her neck soothingly as they walked to the sled parked in front of the hospital. He had decided to take the sled to visit Rosie instead of walking. Mushing always helped him clear his mind. He hadn't had his own team since Jenna was a pup, and now that she was older, and strong enough, he let her pull the sled as often as he could. Someday, he'd get a team again, but he wasn't ready for that yet. He'd lost his prized team when they fell through the ice on a mail run just after Jenna, her brother, and her sister were born: his lead dog's litter. Memories filled his head now more than ever . . .
The day was perfect, bright and sunny: the brightest day yet that season. Almost to Nome, he let the dogs run to their hearts' content. He trusted his leader, Copper, as if he was his own brother. He knew the trail like the back of his paw, and didn't need to be guided home. They approached a lake that appeared to be completely frozen, and began to cross. Copper had taken three steps onto the ice before they all heard a crack like a rifle had shot into the air. He looked down and saw a crack running under the sled and the whole team. Before they had a chance to turn back, the ice collapsed underneath them. The whole sled was pulled under. He let go of the sled, but quickly grabbed it again when he saw it floated a bit because of the mail. He pulled out his knife and was about to cut the team free so they could swim to shore, but they were sinking too fast. Somehow, Copper chewed himself out of his harness and dragged his musher to shore while the team flailed hopelessly. When he tried to pull the loyal dog up out of the water, he selflessly turned back to save the team, but the team and the sled drowned in the depths of the frozen lake. . .
Rosie's father sniffed, closed his eyes tightly against the tears, and hitched Jenna to the sled. He didn't think he could bear to lose Rosie, if losing his team meant that much to him. Jenna saw the sadness in his eyes as he fingered the harness: Copper's old harness, and licked his face solemnly. "Oh, Jenna," Rosie's father said to her, "I owe my life to your father, you know," he sobbed. "You're the spitting image of him, only female," he paused, and sighed. "Will I ever mush again, girl?" Jenna's fiery, honey-brown eyes met his. She knew why he hadn't wanted to get Rosie the sled for her birthday: he wasn't ready to let go of Copper, her father, and the team. She hoped he would learn to let go, as she had already. She wished she could tell him to let go, but she would just have to hope he understood. She barked softly as if to say "I hope so," but of course, he couldn't understand her. He got on the back of the sled, lifted the snow hook, and called out "Hike!" Jenna began to pull, running as fast as she could towards home. As she ran, she saw the silhouette of a dog, Balto, on the side of his boat, looking off into the sunset, just waiting for the team to return.