by Karen Ball
“It was indeed, but it wasn’t mine.”
“Wasn’t yours?” His brows drew together, and she shook her head, snuggling closer into the warm circle of his embrace.
“I sighted the cougar, but you were in the line of fire.” She looked up at him, remembering the wave of despair that had washed over her. “I was afraid to shoot. Afraid I would miss the cat and hit you.”
He looked toward the spot where the cougar had stopped. “If you didn’t do the shooting—” he turned to look at her—“then who did?”
“I don’t know. I can’t imagine who would be out here … or why he didn’t come over after the cougar left. But I don’t really care. All that matters is that God gave us a miracle.”
His eyes twinkled suddenly. “Maybe it was your guardian angel.”
She tilted her head, slanting a look up at him. “Who knows? I mean, somebody was watching out for us. But it would be the first time I’ve ever heard of an angel carrying a gun.”
“Not me.” He gave her a squeeze. “I see one right now.”
She felt her cheeks blush and leaned her forehead against his chest. “Connor, I care about you too. I think …” She paused, searching for the right words, and he waited patiently. “I think I love you.” She looked up. “At least, I want to. I know I don’t want to lose you, no matter what happens with the wolves. But I’m … I’m just not ready yet to give my heart to you. To anyone.”
He leaned down, pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, then stepped away from her. She felt cold, bereft, but his smile warmed her. “I understand, Taylor. I can wait.” He moved to pick up her rifle, then held his hand out to her. “Let’s get the camera equipment before that cat comes back, and go home.”
She grasped his hand, and they walked back toward the horses.
The sun was just setting that evening as Taylor sat in one of the rockers on the porch, pushing back and forth gently. She loved this time of day, when the sky was exploding with color and the evening darkness crept over everything. She leaned her head back against the chair, drawing a deep breath of clean spring air.
Images of the day drifted through her mind … the meadow, the cougar, the kiss she and Connor had shared.
A warm flush washed over her at that last memory, and she hugged her arms around herself. Something was happening here. Something good and right. Between her and Connor. She wasn’t sure where it was leading, but she was ready to find out.
“What brings you such pleasure, Yazhi, that your face shines with it?”
She turned slightly to look at Luke, who was coming up the steps of the porch. He pulled one of the rockers over next to her and lowered himself into it, his gaze resting on her face.
She shrugged, wishing Luke weren’t so set against Connor. “I don’t know, Luke. Just life, I guess.”
“It has been a long time since you’ve had such a look in your eyes. Not since you came home with Josh in tow.”
She felt the traitorous color flood her cheeks and looked down at her lap. Luke’s large, work-toughened fingers reached to cover her hand where it lay on the arm of the rocking chair.
“Taylor, you know I love you as the daughter I never had.”
She nodded.
“And you know I want only what is best for you.”
She nodded again.
“I see what this man has become to you, how you feel about him, how he feels about you.”
Her eyebrows arched. “How he feels about me?”
Luke’s mild amusement danced in his usually sober eyes. “A person would have to be blind to miss the affection he feels for you. But that should not surprise you. Connor Alexander has spent a great deal of time with you these past weeks. It was unavoidable that he would come to love you.”
Taylor reached out to pat his cheek. “Oh, Luke, you’re so good for my ego.”
His hand squeezed hers. “I speak what I know, Yazhi.” His eyes darkened with concern. “And that is what makes me uneasy. I do not know who this man is. What he wants from you. From Galloway Glen.”
She looked at him thoughtfully. “I won’t pretend I know, Luke. Not entirely. I’m still learning who Connor is. But there are a few things that I think are true. He’s committed to following God, and he’s determined to protect the wolves. And he’s become—” Her voice choked with sudden emotion. “He’s become very special to me. I can’t explain it, but it’s true. I care for Connor a great deal.”
Luke stared into the growing night around them. When he spoke again, the coldness in his voice surprised Taylor. “I do not want you to go back into the wilderness with him.”
“Luke—”
His gaze captured hers, and she was startled by the intensity of the distrust she saw there. “You are too far away. I cannot protect you.”
“I don’t need protection. Connor won’t hurt me—”
“He has before.”
Irritation rose within her, and she pushed it down. Getting angry wasn’t going to help. Father, what can I say to help him understand?
Her mother’s words came back to her. “It might be that he’s feeling … threatened.”
Gently she weaved her fingers with his. “You are my dear friend, Luke, and nothing will change that. Josh didn’t. And Connor won’t. You are a part of my life, a part of Galloway Glen, and you always will be. I am not replacing your part in my life with Connor.” She met Luke’s eyes, willing him to hear her. “But God brought Connor here for a reason, and he has become a part of my life too. I don’t know what he means to me, what he will mean in the future. All I know is that I care for him. A great deal.”
Luke stared down at their entwined hands, then looked up at her, letting his breath out in a weary sigh. “I hear your heart, Yazhi. I will do my best to see this man as you do.”
“That’s all I ask. Just give Connor a chance. I think you’ll find you have a lot more in common than you realize.”
He squeezed her hand once more, then rose and walked down the stairs and into the night.
Taylor closed her eyes. Luke wanted to please her, she knew that. But the dislike she’d seen in his eyes when he talked about Connor was clear and intense. And she felt a sharp pang of sadness that one who had shared her life and dreams for so long suddenly seemed very far away.
TWENTY-FIVE
TAYLOR’S HEART WAS POUNDING AS SHE SLID FROM THE SADDLE the next morning. It was early yet, barely after dawn. She waited for Connor to dismount and gather his photography equipment. Then together they walked through the trees and went to stand at the edge of the pool.
At first there didn’t seem to be a wolf anywhere around. Taylor looked up at Connor, trying to hide her disappointment, but his smile was reassuring as he set up his tripod and fitted a camera on the top. “Give them some time.”
She bit her lip and sank down on the lush green carpet beneath them. She plucked at blades of grass, but that didn’t help. A small patch of lupine was beside her, so she picked several of the lavender flowers and pulled the small bell-like blooms off, one by one.
“I hope the pups show soon.” There was gentle laughter in Connor’s voice as he came to sit beside her. “Otherwise you’re going to trash this place.”
She looked up to make a retort, but the words died in her throat. Her breath caught in her throat, and her heart raced as she stared at the cave. She opened her mouth again, but all that came out was a small “ohhh …” of utter wonder. Connor spun around, following the direction of her gaze, then moved to his camera and started shooting.
A small bundle of fur stood at the edge of the cave entrance, peering out at them. It shuddered when the cool morning breeze ruffled its downlike fur. Staring at them with curious blue eyes, it took a tentative step forward, only to be run over by another pup from behind. This pup was far more adventurous than its littermate, and it bounded out into the open with a total disregard for any hazards that might be awaiting it.
“Oh no!” Taylor whispered as the pup ambled to the edge of t
he ledge and peered at the water below.
“It’s okay,” Connor told her, still taking shots. “Watch.”
The first pup squealed in displeasure, its face in the dirt where it had sprawled. Within moments, Nokomis was at the mouth of the cave, her dark eyes scanning the ledge, locating her offspring. In two quick strides she stood over her audacious infant, then leaned down to take the pup’s head in her mouth. With tender care, the mother carried the pup back inside the cave.
Taylor gave a relieved sigh, then giggled when the first pup, still sprawled in the dirt, voiced its displeasure in a high-pitched yowl.
“Not much different from human kids, eh?”
Connor said, and she laughed.
“They remind me of Mark and Mikey when they were little. Whatever one didn’t get into, the other did.”
“Oops, here she comes again.”
Sure enough. Nokomis was standing over the fallen pup, leaning down to lick at it with her long, pink tongue. The pup suffered the washing, then opened its little mouth in an enormous yawn. Nokomis nudged it with her muzzle, and the pup struggled to its feet and toddled back into the cave. Without a backward glance, Nokomis followed her offspring.
Taylor sat back, clapping her hands with glee. “They’re adorable!”
“And I’m sure you’ll have names for them in no time.” Connor unfastened his camera from the stand.
“Do you think there are more?”
“Probably. Wolves generally have litters of five to seven pups, sometimes even more. The others are probably still asleep inside.” He tucked his tripod under his arm, slipped the camera strap around his neck, then extended a hand down to her. “And we should probably head out. We’ve disturbed them enough.”
Reluctantly she let him pull her to her feet.
“Okay—” she made sure her tone was none too gracious—“but you owe me something wonderful for not letting me stay longer.”
“How ’bout a kiss?” He waggled his eyebrows.
“Something wonderful for me. That would be wonderful for you.”
With a gentle tug, he pulled her off balance and into his arms. Lowering his head, he spoke in a low, rumbling tone, his lips a breath away from hers. “Oh, I think I could make it wonderful for both of us—” his blue eyes sparkled with tender amusement as shivers coursed through her, making her traitorous knees go weak—“don’t you?”
Oh, my, yes. She believed that. With all her heart.
She leaned forward, closing her eyes, breathless, anticipating … only to find herself suddenly standing on her own as Connor stepped back, let go, and patted her on the head.
“But, of course, you know best. So you just let me know what I owe you, hon, and I’ll be glad to comply.”
With that, he walked away, leaving her to follow behind, her only companion her disappointment … and that infuriating deep chuckle that drifted back to her on the breeze.
TWENTY-SIX
LADEN WITH TRAPS, HIS GUN STRAPPED OVER HIS SHOULDER, the hunter knelt in the loose dirt, inspecting the drying tracks. The print was nearly as large as his hand. He guessed it was from a female, one that was several years old. His eyes narrowed in speculation.
It was the right time of year …
He stood abruptly. He had to find her before the beast could reproduce. Odds were good that she was already pregnant, maybe even denning. If so, he’d find the den and finish off the lot of them.
He tracked her for hours, and it took all his skill and knowledge of the old ways to stay on her trail. She was clever, doubling back and doing all she could to cover herself. But it wasn’t enough. No matter how clever they were, they were still just animals.
When he followed the trail to a rock formation, he squinted, looking around. Wolves didn’t den in the high places. They denned underground, or in a low spot covered by brush and branches. He’d even heard of one female denning in an abandoned beaver dam.
Cursed creatures. They had the most amazing knack for survival.
He studied the trail again. Mud from the recent rain had left a trail of paw prints, and they clearly led up the rocky rise. He hoisted the traps and set them on the ground. The less encumbrance the better. Slipping his gun from his shoulder, he checked the chambers and nodded in satisfaction. If the wolf was there, he was ready for her.
Within moments he was at the top of the rise, and what he saw widened his eyes in amazement. A valley lay below him like a small piece of heaven. Trees, flowers, grasses, and a pool all combined to create a vision of beauty and tranquillity. He couldn’t believe his eyes. He thought he’d wandered every acre of Galloway Glen, but he’d never come across this place.
It was then that he spotted the tent at the far end of the valley. So, the biologist was here. Which probably meant Taylor had brought him. Sharp pain squeezed his heart as he thought of her here with Alexander. The sense of betrayal he’d felt the night he first heard the wolves returned and was fed and strengthened by this most recent offense. He and Taylor had never come across this place on their rides because she had made sure they hadn’t. She’d kept its existence to herself, willing to share it with no one. Except the intruder.
He glanced down at the tracks. And her wolves.
How could she do this to him?
Calm down. She’s deceived. She just doesn’t realize what’s best for her. It’s not her fault.
The reassurances washed over him, easing the heat in his gut. That had to be it. Taylor had been fooled. Now it was up to him to protect her, to help her see the truth. Before it was too late.
His jaw tensed as he thought about Connor Alexander. The man was trying to move in on territory that was already claimed. Well, first he’d take care of the wolves. Then he’d see to Alexander. With him out of the way, Taylor would be able to understand.
A rustling sound from below drew his attention, and he froze. His heart pumped double time as he watched a slender wolf trotting toward a rock ledge beneath him. He thanked the old ones that he was downwind of the beast, or she would have spotted him long before he saw her. He watched her approach the area just below, then examined the ledge more closely. He smiled in satisfaction. A cave. So that was where the creature had denned.
Moving slowly and soundlessly, he brought the gun to his shoulder. When the wolf was in his sights, he closed his eyes for a second against the sheer adrenaline rush that washed over him. He opened his eyes and sighted the wolf again.
You’re mine. Then pulled the trigger.
The sharp sound of rifle fire echoed on the wind, and Taylor spun in the saddle, looking at Connor in alarm.
“That sounded close!”
“Too close,” he agreed. “Like it came from the valley.”
Quick fear suffused Taylor’s face with color, then siphoned it off again, leaving her pale and tight lipped. Without another word she pulled on the reins, spinning Topaz back toward Reunion and urging him to a gallop.
The gray form lay on the ground below, unmoving. The hunter released a long, slow breath and stepped forward. Already he heard the whines from the cave. He clenched his teeth. The killing brought him little pleasure, but he would do what he had to do to protect the ones he loved.
He made his way down the incline, then stepped cautiously toward the unmoving form of the wolf. No point in taking any chances. He would make sure she was dead before he killed the pups.
Suddenly he was hit from behind. Someone had tackled him, sending them down in a rolling, struggling heap. Fists flew in his face and several solid punches landed on his nose and his cheeks. Stunned, disoriented, he swung his fist as hard as he could. The satisfying thud and groan that followed told him he’d connected, and his attacker sagged.
Taking advantage of the moment, he rolled away and staggered to his feet. He wiped at his face, pulled the handkerchief down around his neck, and spit blood. He looked at the prone form in front of him, and his eyes widened. Lying there, trying to shake off the blow to the side of his temple, was Brad Moma
dey.
With muttered oath, the hunter took his gun in both hands, raised it, and brought the butt down with a sharp motion to connect with the side of Brad’s head. The boy stiffened, then his eyes rolled back in his head, and he sank, unconscious, to the ground.
Turning toward the cave, the hunter spit again. First he’d take care of the cubs. Then he’d make sure this young fool would be all right before he left. He glanced at the boy’s inert form with disgust.
What was Brad doing here, anyway?
The sound of pounding hoofbeats halted him, and he turned, frustration washing over him, hot and fierce. “No!” He looked down at the cave. “I didn’t have time!”
He listened carefully, gauging the distance of the riders, and knew with a sinking certainty that they were too close. He wanted to race to the cave and finish what he’d started. Instead, he spun, jumped over the fallen boy, and scrambled up the rocky slope.
He would have to wait for another day.
Racing down the incline he snatched up his traps and headed for the nearest woods.
Brad’s head felt as though it were going to explode. He blinked, willing the spinning world to come to a stop. When it did, he pushed himself up, groaning at the sharp pain in his head.
Woozy, he looked around—and saw the still form of the wolf. Memory hit him in a wave. “No!” Struggling to his feet, he staggered to the wolf’s side. He knelt beside her, reaching out to touch her muzzle gently. A soft puff of air against his hand startled him, and he felt a thrill of hope. She was still alive!
Slowly she opened her eyes, her breathing shallow and ragged. “Please …” For the first time in a long time, Brad thought he would weep. “Please don’t die!”
But the look he saw in the wolf’s eyes was all too familiar. He’d seen it before, just before death came to claim its victim. As he watched, the fierce amber light focused on him, blazed for one wonderful moment, then flickered and died. The wolf’s eyes glazed, and she was gone.