Heart of the Winter Wolf

by Heart of the Winter Wolf (pdf) (lit)

  "You've healed very well." Birkie nodded approvingly. "That's a mighty terrible thing to go through, and an awful thing to have to remember. Most people would have curled up in a ball, let it cripple them. But you've shown real courage in going on with your life. There you are with a veterinarian's degree and the guts to take a job, sight unseen, clear across the country. Well done, girl."

  "Sometimes I wanted to curl up in a ball. A lot, at first. But those men had taken so much from me, I didn't want them to steal the rest of my life, too, didn't want them to steal who I was. It took a long time, though, just to make myself go outside, or go to the store. Go to school. Took even longer to go back into the woods, to hike the trails, be outdoors again. But I wanted the things that I loved back. I wanted myself back. And I think the wolf helped a lot. I didn't see him again, but I thought about him every time things were tough. Something wonderful had stepped in and saved my life. So I had to try to save my life, too."

  Birkie kept her hand where it was. Her expression showed nothing but acceptance and support. "And you've done a damn fine job of it. Did you ever tell anyone about the wolf? I'll bet some people tried to tell you he wasn't real."

  "Of course no one believed me," Jillian snorted. "And I can't blame them. A wolf in the middle of an eastern city? The police were very kind, but they said I'd probably seen a big dog--if anything. My counselor said the white wolf was something my mind made up to protect itself. I went along with that, but I was never quite convinced, or maybe I just liked the idea that somewhere out there was this wonderful creature watching out for me. You know, the way some people like to believe they have a guardian angel.

  "But then, last weekend, I--" She glanced at Birkie. She hadn't planned to say a word about the encounter, but she hadn't realized how much she needed to tell someone. She was tired of puzzling through this on her own. "Look, I'm taking a chance that you're really going to think I'm crazy, but I met the wolf again. Here--well, actually I was hiking on the river trail below Elk Point. It sounds nuts but I know it wasn't a dream. There were white hairs all over my clothing when I woke up the next morning."

  "Do you think it was the same animal, or could it be a different one?" Birkie asked, as easily if they were discussing cows.

  "No mistake. It was huge and it had the most amazing blue eyes. I recognized it right …." Jillian gaped at her. "You believe me. I'm telling you I not only had a close encounter but a fond reunion with a real live wolf--which sounds ludicrous even to me when I say it out loud--and you believe me."

  "Why shouldn't I? As Shakespeare put it, there are more things in heaven and earth, my dear ...." Birkie waved a square of chocolate in the air. "My Gram saw a lot of things in her long life, things that can't be explained. I've lived long enough to see a few things myself, to know for a fact that truth is often a lot stranger than fiction, honey. So you saw this white wolf, and it was the same wolf that helped you. Did the wolf recognize you, too?"

  "Yes, yes it did." Jillian had read somewhere that the greatest luxury was to be understood, and as she grasped what that really felt like, she found herself blinking tears away. "Look, I just can't tell you how much it means to be able to tell somebody. I haven't known what to think about the whole thing, and it's ... it's...."

  "It's kind of lonely trying to figure out extraordinary experiences on your own." Birkie finished and smiled at her. "And it gets mighty heavy carrying things like that around. Maybe it will help you get some sleep tonight, now that you've gotten it off your chest."

  "Maybe it will. Thank you so much for listening to me--and for believing. I know this whole thing sounds so bizarre, and especially meeting up with the wolf again of all things."

  "I should think that it would be wonderfully affirming to encounter the wolf a second time, to know that it's real. You won't be questioning your sanity at least."

  "You're right. I am glad it happened." Jillian finished the chocolate, then laughed a little. "The wolf dreams are okay, too. Like I said, they're good dreams. It's just that I can't get back to sleep after I have one." She almost told Birkie about the blond man who had visited her dreams, too, but decided not to. There was something more personal about that, maybe because she often found herself fantasizing about him. Besides, she had only dreamed about the man once. It didn't mean anything.

  The older woman finished her chocolate and tossed the crumpled foil neatly into the wastebasket without looking. "Tell you what, dear, I think you'd better come on over to my house for supper. It'll be late, but you definitely need a break from this place, and besides, I have satellite TV with nine movie channels."

  "Oh that sounds great, but I'm on call."

  "The dispatch service can find you just as easily at my place as yours. Take the clinic truck, and you'll be equipped to respond from wherever you are. You'll find, though, that Friday night seems to be the one time that no one calls you. Connor and I figure it's either because the farmers are out for a beer or the cows are."

  Jillian chuckled at that. "Well, I'd love to come over then, thanks."

  "Good. Seven-thirty's when I like to eat. Hope you like pizza. The address is in the book."

  Chapter Eight

  The days were steadily lengthening toward full summer. The sun took its time settling into the west, and for a while, day and night held hands in an orange glow. Finally darkness fell over the North Star Animal Hospital, but to James' surprise, the woman wasn't there. The white wolf paced around the building, casting for her scent. He placed his paws on the windowsill of her apartment and pressed his nose to the screen. Probably got called out. She's a vet. She could be delivering a calf or something. Still, he was disappointed--and angry with himself for feeling that way. It shouldn't matter. But it did. Especially when he hadn't intended to come here, wasn't going to go anywhere near Jillian Descharme ever again.

  The wolf had other ideas, however, resisting that plan every step of the way until James seriously feared for his sanity. He'd tried to submerge himself beneath the animal persona soon after leaving Jillian's apartment, but it wouldn't work. Days later it still wouldn't work. James was stuck with his human thoughts and human feelings in a lupine body. And it was getting damned uncomfortable. There was no respite from the tumult in his head and the memories that sliced his heart and twisted his gut. Even sleep didn't bring him any peace. With human awareness, came human dreams. His dreams were filled with nightmare images of Evelyn calling to him for help, of Evelyn dying, of Evelyn dead. Then Evelyn's face would be replaced with Jillian's. Wounded and dying because of him. His fault, all his fault.

  In his waking hours, he was trying to figure out the peculiar tie he had to Jillian. The only thing he was sure of was that whatever connection she had with him was with the wolf, not the man. That was made plain the night he was in her room. Had some part of him wanted her to wake up, to awaken and see him, see his human self? There'd been no recognition in her eyes, however. It had disappointed him when he didn't want to care at all, and later it had kindled a hot anger within, as if he was jealous of his own wolf nature.

  Still, it looked like he wasn't going to get an ounce of peace until he resolved this issue. Was there something he needed to know? Something he needed to do? Something she could do for him? He had no inkling, none at all. And so here he was, and here he would wait until the woman came back. What then, he didn't know--but he sure didn't have any other ideas.

  The bales were still stacked in the side yard. The white wolf had no trouble making his way up them and leaping into the loft. He would wait here. It was quiet, and he would spend the time thinking, trying to remember something, anything. As if he hadn't already spent most of the entire week doing exactly that.

  Hours passed. No memories came to him, no new information sprang to mind, but one single thought did occur--when he was in human form in Jillian's apartment he had remembered her name. Would he remember more, then, if he were human? Would his wolfen side ration out a little more information to him? Maybe that was
the key?

  James called the Change. Standing on two legs didn't feel quite so awkward this time--at least he didn't fall on his ass--but he sat quickly on a bale just in case. For a long while he simply watched the moon climb across the sky, reach the highest point of its arched path, then begin its downward slide. His eyelids drooped. Human form brought human needs. Changing used a great deal of energy, and James had had very little sleep in days. It wouldn't hurt to catch a quick nap. He was confident that his lupine senses would wake him the moment Jillian drove up. Wading through the sweet-smelling straw, he found a particularly thick pile and stretched out on it. But he didn't glide into the light sleep of the wolf. Instead, James fell headlong into slumber as only a human can, slept deep as a man sleeps, and dreamed as a man dreams.

  Century-old spruce trees rose black against a deep blue velvet sky. Stars circled in a slow dance overhead. The white wolf padded along a game trail, high along the ridge of dark hills to the west. An old elk had been through here just an hour ago, but the musky scent failed to hold the predator's interest. Something was wrong. Something. Suddenly the wolf stopped and lifted his head, looked down over the sweep of land below where a silvered river wound its way to a distant cluster of lights that looked like numberless stars piled on the ground. There. It was there. Something wrong, close to the river. Something.

  The wolf hesitated a moment. It went against every instinct. He never wandered near human settlements, certainly never close to a city. But there was a need, an urgency to head for the river valley in the very heart of all those lights. Now. It was important. Vital. Now, now, now. And so he ran. Built for speed, the wolf's body ate up the miles, yet it wasn't fast enough, he knew it wasn't fast enough. He pushed himself to the limits then, to speeds that only Changelings could attain.

  The city rose glittering on either side of the river, the buildings towering over the tallest trees of this forested valley. The white wolf followed the riverbank into a maze of mulched walking trails that wound through dense brush. The sharpness of fear and the reek of violence were on the breeze. And the metallic tang of blood, human blood. Without a pause, the wolf wheeled onto one trail in particular and ran full out. And found a group of men standing over the fallen figure of a small blonde woman. One was raising a metal pipe high over his head ....

  * * * *

  Jillian fully expected to enjoy having supper with her new friend, and she wasn't disappointed. Birkie's bright and blunt personality would add spice to any meal. But it was a flat-out surprise to both of them when they stayed up almost all night, talking and laughing like high school students, making pizza, then fudge, and watching the silliest movies they could find. Despite the age difference, they enjoyed each other hugely.

  There were other surprises, too. When they'd taken a break between movies, Birkie had led her to the enclosed porch off the kitchen to show off her hobby. There, rows upon rows of pots under greenhouse lights held a myriad of plants and vines. The air was thick with their fragrance. Bunches of herbs hung upside-down, drying in the dining room. An entire wall boasted shelves of carefully labeled jars, while another wall held a vast collection of books on plants and herbs. Jillian was astounded.

  "Learned this stuff from my grandmother," said Birkie. "Been studying everything and anything I could get my hands on ever since. Gotten pretty damn good at it, too." The woman deftly put together a selection of teas and capsules for the young vet. "All natural, I promise. About as harmful as the basil on your pizza. These are to help you relax, help you sleep, and help you stay asleep. These ones here are to build up the blood--you're looking downright peaked, girl. I'll jot it all down for you so you remember what to take when. But this thing here is to keep away bad dreams."

  Jillian glanced over at the carefully crafted circle of rawhide and feathers on the seat of the truck next to her. Birkie seemed to put as much stock in the dream catcher as in the supplements, and instructed her to hang it over her bed. "I know you can find these things at just about every craft sale in the country these days. Even saw some Asian knockoffs at the Bargain Mart the other day. But this one is different--been working on it all week, ever since you first mentioned having dreams and since I noticed you looking so tired out. Made it out of natural materials, added some particular crystals and stones so it's full of positive energies. It's designed especially for you, hon. That's why it's bound to work for you." Jillian wasn't sure about that, but it was pretty to look at. She didn't have any decorations in her apartment yet, and she was touched that Birkie would go to so much trouble for her. She accepted the gift with a thankful hug.

  Jillian yawned as she pressed the automatic door opener in the truck and drove into the clinic's back bay. She yawned again as she parked and gathered up her treasures. She was intent on heading to her apartment when a movement high above her, a small flicker of something pale, caught her eye. She stared up at the loft. Of course its door was open--the air was welcome in the clinic at this time of year--but Jillian couldn't see a thing beyond the yawning doorframe. It was 'black as the inside of a cow,' an apt phrase she'd picked up from the local farmers. She strained to listen but could detect no sound.

  An owl? Or maybe a bat? Whatever it was, she'd probably disturbed it when the lights went on. She crossed the concrete floor, slapped off the light switch, paused in the darkness, and waited for her eyes to adjust. She was tired but owls were her favorite bird. Maybe she'd get a rare peek at one if she could be quiet enough. It was too late in the season for a Snowy, so perhaps it was a Great Gray. Or even a Horned. Excited by possibilities, Jillian set her things on the floor and carefully climbed the ladder into the loft.

  She had to stand still for a while until her eyes adjusted. There was light coming in the far end from the open window, a mixed palette of cold white light from the waxing moon, warm yellow light from the sodium lamps in the parking lot, and the pale watery light of the eastern sky. Shadows resolved themselves into shapes, the sharp-edged blocks of neatly stacked bales and vast heaps and hills of loose straw and hay. Wisps were stirred by a warm breeze from the window, bringing the scent of sun-dried fields to her senses.

  A movement beside her caught her eye, and she jumped in spite of herself. She realized it was just an old lab coat hung on a nail, watched as the air billowed it slightly, and was disappointed. Was that what she had spotted from downstairs? She began wading carefully through the deep straw as she searched the rafters above for any sign of life.

  She was nearly to the window when she stumbled over something solid. She flung her hands out to save herself and came in contact with warm skin. There was no time to jump back. A large man, powerfully muscled and bare-chested, burst up from the straw and grabbed her. With a yell worthy of an Amazon, Jillian Descharme fought like a woman possessed.

  "Jesus! Hey!" James was trying not to hurt her, but he would deflect one punch only to have her small fist drill him somewhere else. One blow landed sharply between his ribs, distracted him long enough for her to knee him solidly. His breath exploded out of his lungs, but he wasn't as disabled as a human would have been. In one rapid movement, James wrapped his arms around his assailant and rolled on top of her.

  "Let me up! Let me go!" Jillian found herself completely pinned. His arms were like massive cables, and she couldn't do a damn thing against the combination of his weight and muscle. Not from this position. She couldn't even head-butt him. Flashback images pounded in her head, terror that her worst nightmare was happening all over again. Heart hammering, her voice rose in pitch in spite of her efforts to sound authoritative. "Let go of me this minute!"

  He ignored her as he tried to orient himself, calm his animal nature--and give his balls a chance to quit throbbing. "Be quiet for a minute. Let me wake up." He took a few breaths, then raised himself on his elbows to look at her.

  As she felt his body weight shift, she gathered herself to fight or flee--but froze instead when she saw the Viking eyes, vivid blue even in the pale half light. "You! It's you! You
're ... but you can't be." She fell silent, confused and scared. Really scared now. Reality had just taken an abrupt holiday.

  James had no trouble reading the expression on her face. "Goddammit, quit looking at me like that. I'm not going to hurt you. And you're not crazy, so you can quit wondering about that, too." It couldn't possibly be a good idea, but he felt he had to give her the truth, felt she deserved that. "Yeah, I was the guy in your room that night. Easy, there. I said you're safe." Mostly safe. She was struggling again and the feel of her lithe body beneath his gave him ideas he'd rather not have right now ....

  Jillian could neither free herself nor punch him again and was forced to relent. It was too much like trying to budge a tree. "Bastard!" she spat out at last, frustrated and furious in spite of her terror. "You bastard! What do you want?"

  "Not a damn thing. As soon as you quit trying to kill me, I'm going to let go of you."

  "But ... but you were in my room."

  "It seemed like a good idea at the time. You were dreaming, and I came into your room to see if I could help." Okay, not exactly but close enough. And he'd just leave out that little part about Changing from wolf to human. And the fact that he had been in the clinic before. There were limits to the good that honesty could do. "I probably ended up scaring you worse than the nightmare you were having. If it's any consolation, you scared the hell out of me just now, so we're even."

  Scared him? "You grabbed me."

  "Reflex. I was sound asleep and you fell on me." He could scarcely believe he'd been that deeply asleep, surprised that he had slept at all. Why hadn't his wolfen senses warned him of her approach?