No, shed never seen baby wolvesor ever planned to. For two exhilarating seconds, her fragile ego basked in his respect for her courage, but that soaring sensation didnt last long. He was so totally mistaken. She hadnt earned that respect. She had no guts. Shed just never managed the assertive art of saying noa personality flaw that had majorly contributed to her landing in hot water in the past.
Shed never been in hot water quite like this, though. Quicker than a smile, hed taken her hand. Before she could draw a nervous breath, they were crossing the white sugarcoated valley. In the open. Easy prey for wolves or bears or anything else. Hed scooped both her skis and his gun under one arm, so it wasnt as if he could aim that rifle quick, even if he had to.
They climbed a ridge, ducked around a stand of white pines and scrambled down a knoll. The new snow layer was fluff, but beneath that lay an ice crust, tricky footing in just her ski boots. Even though he had to be freezing in just that sweater, he never moved fast and he never loosened his grip on her hand. The thick gloves prevented any personal contact, but his secure hold felt like being plugged into a direct socket of strength. He wasnt going to let her fall.
He kept talking in that lazy, calm baritone of his. Talking was a necessity, he told her. Wolves had acute hearing. Talking let the animals know where he was, who he was, and a steady, soothing tone helped communicate that he meant them no harm. Wolves were nervous by nature. They had reason to be.
Mary Ellen had no idea if he was successfully calming the beasts, but his low, husky voice was working an unwilling magic on her. He didnt talk about anything but the wolves. She wondered if he realized how much he was revealing about himself.
Isle Royale, he told her, was less than a thirty-mile stretch across Lake Superior from here. Since the late fifties, the island was one of the few places on the continent where the endangered species of gray wolf was protected. A few years ago, though, the species had started dying out. Numbers dropped from fifty to eleven. No one could pin down the problem. The wolves had an ample food supply; the winters werent that harsh; neither disease nor age seemed to be the contributing factor. They simply werent breeding. The best theory seemed to be genesthat the three surviving packs were too inbred. The wolves needed a new gene pool if they were going to survive.
So two years ago, I flew in White Wolf. Hes from Alaskawhere I was working then. Carried him, his best girl and two more from that pack, and settled them on the island. They seemed to be doing fine. They mated and bred, and everything was going hunky-doryuntil this winter.
Normally the icy waters of Lake Superior created a formidable barrier between the island and the Upper Peninsula. But that stretch of lake had frozen before, in winters as violently cold as this one. The damn doofuses walked across on the ice floes. They got it in their heads that they wanted to set up housekeeping on this side. Not a brain in their idiot heads.
It was hard for Mary Ellen to think of wolves in affectionate terms like doofuses, but clearly Steve did.
No one wants them. No ones ever wanted wolves. People dont mind a romantic story about them, like Jack London wrote or Walt Disney filmed, but find one in your backyard and that attitude changes real quickly. Man has always been afraid of wolvesits as simple as that, and no laws have ever protected them from being hunted down. They need to be taken back to the island, partly because the whole species isnt going to make itnot without this new bloodand partly because their chance of surviving here is worse than a bookies odds. So thats what I came here to dotransport them back to the island. Only damn, I hit a little snag I never expected.
A snag? She couldnt imagine what hed consider a little snag. He mentioned rounding up the wolves and transporting them to the island as if this were an ordinary project for him. Even trying to picture the act boggled her mind.
White Wolfs mate was shot several days ago. And unfortunately, shed just given birth to a litter of pups less than ten days before that.
Someone shot the mother? Her voice was small. Minutes before, shed been in a bloodthirsty rush for him to aim that gun and shoot to kill. That white behemoth of a wolfand his cronieshad terrified her. Still did. But she hadnt thought of the wolves as vulnerable then. She hadnt pictured a young mother hunted down, leaving a nest of helpless newborn babies. I guess I should have expected that something had happened to the mother. I mean, obviously you wouldnt have any reason to be feeding the pups if the mom was alive.
Well, normally if a mother wolf dies, another female in the pack will take over. Shell bond with the pups and start producing milk. Only theres only one other female in the pack. Shes no spring chicken and that didnt happen. So Im feeding them formula five times a day. Unfortunately theyre just too young and weak to move right now. And the rest of the packthey wont leave. Not without their young. There isnt a human alive who can understand a wolfs loyalty. Hell sacrifice his life to protect those he loves. They take care of each other. That instinct is as strong in wolves as their need to eat or breathe.
Steve grabbed her arm when she stumbled on a slick ridge. She hadnt been looking where she was going, but at him. His face was ruddy from the cold, yet the temperature didnt seem to bother him. He released her arm quickly, but the gesture had protected her from a fall as automatically as the wolves hed been talking about. His affinity for the animals was no accident, she mused. He was like them. A lone wolf. A man who valued loyalty, who willingly made personal sacrifices for something he cared about, who was instinctively protective of others around him. Hed obviously chosen his work and his life-style. That kind of strengththat kind of lonelinesswas beyond anything she knew.
But being a loner...Mary Ellen knew a lot about that. Shed lived her whole life with the tag of misfit.
So, she said, how long are you stuck with this problem?
Itll be at least a month, maybe more, before the pups are strong enough to be relocated. And the whole thing is a gamble. Someone would say a stupid gamble, trying to keep them together. Its not like I couldnt ship the pups off to some zootheres no problem finding people willing to take care of them. But theyd never make it outside of captivity if I separated them from the pack now. They imprint on the grown-ups. The older ones teach them how to survive in the wild, something no human could do. Its real iffy whether I can keep them all safe for that long. Theres a town meeting this Thursday. I know damn well they have in mind voting an open season on my pals.
She glanced at him again. His voice never fluctuated from that slow, lazy drawl. He made that town meeting sound like nothing more challenging than a Sunday stroll. Yet it had to be hard, being an unwanted stranger with an unwanted cause, and she couldnt imagine the guts it would take to face down a townful of people who viewed him as an enemy.
She knew how it felt to be judged, so it was probably natural that she felt a compelling emotional tug for him. She was a loner, too, but a misfit not by choice. For an instant she wanted to reach out and touch him as if they shared a personal bondwhen there was no bond. He had guts. She didnt. He had strength to burn, volunteered for difficult situations. Her response to the difficult situation with Johnny had been to cringe, get an itchy case of hives and then duck and run lickety-split, like the coward she was. She looked away. I guess youve had to deal with that kind of problem before?
He never got around to answering her, although when he suddenly stopped walking, she wasnt sure why. The craggy ridge looked no different than the landscape theyd just traveledwild and woody. There were no footprints in the snow, no sign any human had ever discovered these primitive backwoods. The forest was dark, deep, endless, winding around hills and snow-swept, jutting crags of land. Then, though, she spotted an olive green box, like the kind of case people packed drinks and sandwiches for a picnic in.
Steve bent over and pushed the top off. The box definitely wasnt being used for picnic supplies. Strange-looking baby bottles were packed around hot-water sacks. He unwrapped one and showed her. I got the bottles from the hospital in Houghton. Theyre meant for babies with cleft palates, but they work just as well for pups too young to suckle.
She edged closer, her arms wrapped around her chest. A wisp of a smell hit her nostrilsstrong enough to make her nose crinkle.
He chuckled. I should have warned you. The formula isnt exactly aromatic.
Good grief, whats in it?
Piles of disgusting stuff, from raw egg yolks to vitamins. Trying to fool them that this is their mamas milk has been an uphill trip, Ill tell you. But never mind that. Are you ready to fall in love?
Her eyes flew to his faster than a shooting comet. I beg your pardon?
Slowly, lazily, he studied her face as if the color in her cheeks was the most fascinating thing hed seen in a blue moon. Youre not all that sure what you think, are you? You dont think youre gonna be tempted into caring. A lot of people dont. A wolfs a wolf, and these little guys dont come out of the womb looking like a Walt Disney cartoon. Theyre born wild and wary, a real handful, no interest in being tamed. But I just have this strange feeling, Mary Ellen, that youre gonna fall hopelessly in love.
He was talking about the baby wolves, of course. Not him. Not them. Not for a momentnot even for a millisecondhad she thought he meant anything else. It was just the low timbre in his voice when he said her name...she didnt realize he even knew her name...that made her suddenly shiver. She shifted her attention from his gaze at the speed of light, looking all over for some sign of the nest or a den or someplace where the pups might be. So where are they? she asked impatiently.
Right here. Stuffing two bottles under his sweater, he bent under the shadowed branches of a spruce, and then went belly flat in the snow.
More wary than curious, she crouched down, too.
Cant see them from that far. You have to get closer.
Well, geesh. Shed come this far, so it seemed pretty ridiculous to back out now. Snow showered her head when she elbow crawled to his side, protected by ski pants and a double layer of coats, as he certainly wasnt. She heard him sneeze, and automatically started to respond with a Bless you when she saw the silky gleam of tiny eyes.
The nest wasnt exactly a cave, more like a long, low ledge of a rock that tunneled in several yards, the opening concealed entirely by the spruce and stark winter black brush. Once inside, the darkness was as sudden as night. Her pupils had to dilate to see anything after the blinding glare of sunlit snow. Yet she saw the tiny eyes, and then another pair and another. Milky blue. Baby blue. The fur balls were nestled in a heap, with tiny shiny noses and tiny floppy ears, and one had the same gorgeous white pelt of his father.
The snowball baby tried out a lonely, angry howl, echoing his daddy except that its volume was barely a mewl. He thought he was real tough, for a two-pound bit of fluff. Steve plugged its mouth with the strange-tipped bottle, and the baby instantly quieted. Steve sneezed againthe blasted man was positively going to catch pneumonia on this little venturebut sympathy for him wasnt the reason for the velvet lump in her throat.
Damnation if he wasnt right.
She fell hopelessly in love on the spot. Not for him. Good grief! She wasnt crazy.
But definitely for the babies.
Three
Predictably, as soon as Mary Ellen doused the car lights, she dropped the keys. Bending over and squished, she groped in the no-mans land of the dark car floor until she found them, then collected her gloves, shoulder bag, hot pads and Crockpot. Holding all of those, she naturally discovered she had no way to open the door. She rejuggled. Eventually she escaped the dratted car, and holding the heavy pot with both hands, gave the door a good swing with her fanny to close it.
It was a lot of trouble to go through, just to bring a man some plain old beef stew. Well, truthfully it was her best ragout, but that point was moot. The dinner was owed. She hadnt met any Galahads in the nineties. Steve had not only given up his coat for her yesterday, but hed also saved her from the wolvesboth in the woods and the bar. She obviously had to find a way to thank him.
The offer to bring him dinner had been impulsive. Steve had pounced on it. No demurring. No gee-you-dont-have-tos. His fast agreement worried herit was the first time shed seen Steve Rawlings do anything fastand shed chewed a fingernail, fussing over whether he could misinterpret the gesture. Men had a habit of misinterpreting just about anything shed ever done, no matter how innocent or well-intentioned.
Her arms ached from the weight of the Crockpot as she looked around. He was home, because she could see the edge of his black four-wheel-drive pickup, parked behind the trailer. Yellow light shined from the windows, making lonely patches of color in the snow. Even this early in the eveningsix oclockthe night was blacker than tar. Hed chosen to set the trailer in the middle of nowhere, isolated in a nest of black trees and sooty shadows. An icy, eerie wind shivered through the treetops, making her shiver uneasily, too.
If she were home in Georgia, itd be warm by the first week in March. Not blizzard-mean-cold like here. In her Georgia hometown, too, no single woman would be visiting a single guy, in his lair, after dark, unless she was volunteering for big-time trouble.
Now thats ridiculous, Mary Ellen told herself impatiently. She wasnt staying. She was just going to drop off the Crockpot. Twice now, hed gone out of his way to help her, and manners required a thankyou. The only danger she was risking was a frostbit tush from standing out here in the dark like a witless goose.
She took a breath, marched to his doorstep and used her elbow to knock. The knock only created a muffled sound, but the door promptly flew open. Warm air flooded out. She only had one quick, daunting glimpse of a giant whose shoulders were never meant to fit in a compact trailer-size door.
Finally Red Riding Hood arrives. I was starting to get worried, afraid youd get lost trying to find the place.
Red...? The Riding Hood tag startled her. Could he possibly know how wary she felt about walking into a wolfs lair? But then she caught the flash of an easy, teasing grin, and it clicked real quick where hed picked up the fairy-tale association. She was wearing a hooded cherry red jacket and carrying goodies through the woods. Pretty hard to deny she was natural prey for a tease, and she had to smile back. No, I had no trouble. Your directions were great.
He reached down the steps to take the heavy pot from her hands. This smells great. Come on in.