Stig—known as Runt to his siblings because at six foot, he was the smallest of the Swenson brood—nodded but continued to assess the mood of the crowd.
Jed Blackwood, a local trapper, stood. As usual, his salt-and-pepper hair stood up in wiry spikes while his black beard, in need of a trim, concealed his lower face. “Are you willing to take products out of Churchill?”
“Yes,” Leif said without hesitation. “We’ll be going back empty anyway.”
“How many ice trucks do you intend to run?” Karl, the owner of Jabot Kennels, called from the back. He was thin and wiry, like his sled dogs, and never ceased his fidgeting.
“Two,” Leif said. “We aim to have deliveries in Churchill on Tuesdays and Fridays, dependent on weather interruptions.”
“You won’t have time to make decent roads. At least not good enough to run trucks,” a local businessowner in the front said.
“No, we won’t,” Leif confessed. “Which is why we’re running big machines fitted with caterpillar tracks and towing sleds. I believe they used a similar method in the seventies to transport food, supplies and fuel to remote communities.”
“I won’t believe it till I see it,” the elderly owner of Firebird café said as she pushed to her feet with the aid of her walking stick.
“We are committed to this idea,” Leif boomed. “We will not let you down.”
Mutters of dissent drifted from the locals, both human and shifter. Stig sensed the tension in his brothers, the mood of the crowd. He had to do something before this town meeting ended in a brawl.
They held a tenuous peace, the humans of Churchill not fully trusting the polar bear shifters who coexisted with them. Polar bear attacks from wild bears made the locals suspicious of shifters who lived in both worlds. They didn’t trust them to act with decency and considered them half-wild and therefore dangerous. Stig had even heard the ridiculous rumors going around—that he and his brothers and the other shifters killed humans and ate them to hide the bodies.
Stig stood. “We understand the owners of the railroad have betrayed you. We understand you don’t trust us. That’s fine. We’re telling you what we intend to do, and you can decide whether to hire our services once our operation gets under way. Thank you for attending the meeting and listening to our plans.”
The murmurs ceased and the locals rose and drifted from the old church in groups until only Stig and his brothers remained.
“Way to go, Runt,” Leif said in approval. He strode up to Stig and gave him a swift hug.
“We could’ve had a fun fist fight. You spoiled that with diplomacy.” Josef, the brother who was always laughing and joking, clapped Stig over the shoulder. Stig took an unwilling step forward before he regained his balance.
Leif growled deep in his throat when Josef prepared to shove Stig again. “Quit that, Josef. We have no hope of convincing the locals we’re serious about this idea if we can’t keep the peace amongst ourselves.”
“Sorry.” Josef dipped his tousled golden-blond head in anaw-shucksmanner.
Stig did an eyeroll at the penitent posture, and judging by Leif’s scowl, Josef hadn’t deceived him either.
“You’re right,” Kirk said. He was the sibling nearest in age to Stig, and the most serious of the Swenson brothers. “It’s important for us to keep the peace and work together to achieve our goals. Ma doesn’t believe we can do this. She’d rather we journeyed out on the ice with the rest of the clan. She lectured me on following the old ways instead of embracing the modern world. I received an ear-full this morning. She’d love us to fail, so she can say, ‘I told you so’.”
“I’m sorry,” Josef said.
This time he meant it.
“The last thing I want is to go out on the ice. I heard Ma has made a tentative deal with the Anderson matriarch. Their daughters for us,” Josef said.
Arve swore under his breath. He was the gentle giant of the family and slow to anger, but Stig could see his brother’s irritation and frustration. Arve’s clipped dirty-blond hair rose at his nape, a signal of his agitation. “Ma promised we could choose our own mates.”
Leif pulled the band from his hair and tucked it into his pocket. “A promise won’t stop Ma from maneuvering us behind the scenes. We’ve invested all our money in this venture,” he reminded them. “Failure is not an option.”
Stig remained silent and trailed his brothers as they filed outside. The cool night air struck like a slap to the face.
As one, they lifted their noses to scent the air.
“Snow,” Arve said in satisfaction. “Let’s work through the night and finish our preparations so we’re good to go as soon as there is enough snow for the sleds.”
“Let’s do this,” Josef said with not a smidge of his usual jokey manner.
Stig nodded along with his other brothers. They had no orders to haul freight yet because no one believed in them. But self-belief was enough. He and Leif had a plan and had held back enough cash to put their scheme into action. Once they proved their fledgling business would work, they’d have plenty of customers.
He smiled as a flake of snow hit the tip of his nose. He loved it when a plan came together.
