The door was locked at the knob, and as she opened things, she could hear Rick’s voice in her head yelling at her, telling her that she shouldn’t get close to the wolf.
With a sad smile, she ignored the warnings she had heard so often.
As she stepped into the enclosure, she glanced around. The walls were concrete to about three feet high, and on top, they were chain-link to a good ten feet up. Fresh spring air, sweetened by the sun, blew in and around the pen.
The wolf’s eyes remained locked on her, glowing and golden. Like the sun, she thought. And though his ears were pricked forward, his hackles were relaxed, his breathing even, and his lithe body loose and un-tensed.
“Hello,” she said softly as she sank down.
She was careful to leave the door open behind her just in case she was reading this wrong. But she knew she wasn’t.
“You look so much better. I’m going to make you your dinner tonight. Then tomorrow … we’re going to let you get back to where you belong.”
The wolf lowered its head and took a step forward. And then another. One of his ears twitched as if he had an itch on it, and he licked his jowls.
Lydia put her palms out. “You look so much better. You’re going to live.”
The tears that rolled down her cheeks fell onto the earth as she spoke to him.
The wolf stopped mere inches from her hands, and she reached out to him, touching his shoulders.
“You know who I am, don’t you?” she said. “Yes, yes, you do.”
He moved his body against her, circling, his ears now easy and loose, his fur both rough and soft as he pushed into the petting she offered him.
“You had a helluva vet,” she whispered. “I need you to know that. A helluva vet saved your life.”
LATER, DANIEL WOULD wonder what exactly called him around to the back of the WSP’s main building. He’d been out in the equipment building, working on the ATV to get the fuel tank fixed, when something tickled his instincts. He’d brushed off the sensation, as if it were a fly, but there had been no denying the prickling awareness.
No ignoring it, either.
Things made a little more sense as he hit the porch that faced the lake view … and looked down to some kind of enclosure.
There, inside a pen, Lydia was crouched by a wolf, her head right next to the animal’s, her hands on its body as it circled, circled, circled in front of her. The two were oblivious to the world, in a moment of their own, as tears streamed down her face and dotted the blue jeans she had on.
Daniel’s first instinct was to push the wolf out of the way. But not to save her.
It was so he could be the one she was petting.
Instead of giving in to that jealousy, he stayed where he was, as under her spell as the other animal was, that magic Rick had warned about, and that Daniel had experienced himself, blooming in the air as if she were a holy object emanating a benediction.
A wild creature brought to heel in the palm of her open hand.
Daniel was the same.
Except he did not want to be tamed. He could not afford to be, even if he’d wanted it.
With a curse, he backed off—and knew it was time to get back to work. Heading over to his bike, he mounted up, cranked the engine over, and tooled down the drive to get off the property. When he came to the county road, he went to the left and gunned the Harley into a proper roar.
The cold air felt good on his face, and the vibration of the handlebars in his hands was so familiar, it calmed him.
See? He was free, after all.
Or at least that’s what he told himself. The reality was different. Images from the morning kept hitting his mind’s eye with shrapnel-snapshots, the worst being what Lydia had looked like down on the floor with the body.
Daniel was never going to forget taking her in his arms, holding her and staring over her head at what that man had done to himself. With everything Daniel had seen over the course of his life, you’d figure he’d handle the shit better. Instead, it was haunting him.
Although it was more about Lydia.
He didn’t want her to see things like that. Ever.
Up ahead, the town center, such as it was, came into view, and as he approached the diner/grocery store, he pulled into the mostly empty parking lot and checked his watch. A little before two p.m.
Fucking hell, he felt like it was three in the morning.
Entering the grocery half of the building, he went to the cashier. As she looked up from the book she was reading, she smiled like she’d pulled a good fish out of what she’d assumed was an empty pond.