Alaskan Sanctuary

by Teri Wilson

  There was a reason why lone wolves were an uncommon sight. They didn’t last long. Wolves needed their pack to survive. Ethan hadn’t been at all surprised when he’d arrived in the canyon one morning to find the wolf gone. All that was left of him was a trail of crimson blood in the snow. There’d been no other wolves to mourn his loss, no aching, desolate howls cast to the sky. But Ethan had somehow felt those howls rattling around in his rib cage. A nighttime elegy.

  He felt them now, again, when he looked at Piper.

  He cleared his throat and directed his focus once again on Tate. “I told you. I was only here for a few minutes when I noticed that the wolf seemed out of sorts. Everything happened very quickly.”

  “You didn’t notice any suspicious vehicles or people?” Tate double-checked his notes.

  “No.” For the thousandth time. “Just like before, on the day of the graffiti. Except this time, Zoey’s car was in the driveway alongside Piper’s. Other than that, nothing.”

  “No one left the area after you’d arrived? Perhaps while you were inside talking to Piper?”

  “I didn’t go inside. I got straight to work.” Ethan shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Piper and I aren’t exactly on friendly terms. Or we weren’t. I’m not even sure anymore.”

  Tate lifted a sardonic brow. “So you really took our talk this morning to heart, I see?”

  “Tate.” Ethan’s voice sounded lethal even to himself.

  “Sorry. We’re all tense, okay?” He flipped his notebook closed. “I’m going to take a look around, maybe shoot some photos. Zoey called Posy, and the recital committee is on their way over with food. She figured cooking is the last thing on Piper’s mind at the moment.”

  Ethan couldn’t see Piper having much of an appetite, but it was nice to see the community rallying around her. It would do her good to spend more time with people. “So I’m free to go now?”

  Tate pocketed his notebook and pulled out his camera phone. “Is that what you want to do? Leave?”

  No. Not at all.

  He wanted to stand beside Piper. He wanted to tell her that she could lean on him. She didn’t need to be strong on her own anymore. She didn’t need to be a lone wolf.

  But it was turning into Grand Central Station around here. Liam Blake had already shown up with a half dozen kids from the youth group, and they were finishing the chores. The dance recital crew would be here any minute with food. Did Piper even want him around?

  He wholeheartedly doubted it.

  She’d reached for him in those first few minutes, before half the town had descended. She’d clung to him as if he were a shelter in a storm. But what about now?

  He glanced at his cell phone to check the time. In less than twenty-four hours he was scheduled to arrive in Seattle. His flight to Anchorage on Zoey’s charter plane left at six in the morning.

  He inhaled a ragged breath and answered Tate’s question. “I’m going to stick around. At least for a little while.”

  “Good.” Tate’s gaze flitted to the tree-lined drive, where yet another car had arrived. A man Ethan didn’t recognize climbed out of the driver’s side, glanced around and walked toward the cabin. “Who’s that?”

  Ethan frowned. “I don’t know, but I’m about to find out.”

  “You and me both,” Tate said.

  Ethan cast a final glance in the direction of Koko’s enclosure before heading for the cabin alongside Tate. Piper seemed far too busy assisting Stu with the IV to notice anything beyond the fence.

  By the time the two men reached the steps of the cabin, the stranger had already knocked on the door and was trying to peer in the front window.

  Ethan tapped on his shoulder. “Can I help you?”

  “Do you work here?” The man turned around, casting a sideways glance at the state trooper badge pinned to Tate’s chest.

  Ethan cleared his throat. “In a way.”

  “My name is Jack Oliver.” He offered his hand for a shake. A brown leather briefcase dangled from the opposite hand, a sure sign he was an out-of-towner. Ethan had never seen a briefcase within Aurora city limits. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen one anywhere in Alaska, for that matter. “I just flew in yesterday from Washington, DC.”

  “DC? Really?” Tate said. “What brings you to Alaska?”

  But Ethan already knew.

  Jack Oliver had to be the businessman that Zoey had picked up from Juneau. Some government official...

  Now? Really, God? Ethan knew he had no right to question God’s timing. He’d only recently begun praying again. But didn’t Piper have enough on her plate at the moment?

  Jack Oliver smiled. Poor guy. He had no idea what kind of mess he’d traveled all this way to see. “I’m with the National Nature Conservatory. This facility has applied for a government grant, and I’m here to conduct an inspection. May I speak to Piper Quinn? She’s the director of the facility, is she not?”

  “I’m afraid she’s indisposed at the moment.” Ethan hated the fact that he’d been right. Why couldn’t this guy have been a traveling salesman or something?

  The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on Ethan. He’d been against the NNC funding since day one. He’d sat by and watched Piper struggle with the paperwork, and he hadn’t once offered to help, despite the fact that he’d applied for six such grants himself in Denali. All of which had been successfully awarded.

  But this wasn’t how things should have gone down. He didn’t want to win this way. This wasn’t a fair fight. Piper didn’t stand a chance. Passing the inspection didn’t seem possible when the sanctuary had basically become a crime scene, and the star wolf was busy fighting for his life.

  “She’s indisposed?” Jack Oliver let out a laugh that sounded far too haughty for Ethan’s taste. “Sir, perhaps you’re not aware, but agency rules stipulate the premises must be made available for inspection in order for the grant application to move forward. We were very impressed by Ms. Quinn’s documentation of her work with wolves, but this sanctuary can’t be approved for funding without an inspection.”

  “An inspection isn’t possible right now.” Ethan stepped between Jack Oliver and the enclosures. The last thing the man needed to see was a semiconscious wolf hooked up to an IV, although it was probably clear from all the activity that something was amiss.

  And why exactly do you think it’s your place to protect these wolves?

  It wasn’t about the wolves. It was about Piper, and not letting her get kicked while she was already down. Ethan would have done the same for anyone. His actions didn’t have a thing to do with the wolves themselves. Or love.

  Love.

  Where had that thought come from? The stress of the situation was getting to him. He’d been thinking about Tate’s romantic notions that he and Piper somehow belonged together. Which was nonsense. Obviously.

  “Again, I’m sorry,” he said in a low voice. “Perhaps another time. Because I’m actually up to speed on NNC rules, and I believe there are provisions for an amended application in certain situations.”

  Jack Oliver deflated. Slightly. “In rare cases, yes. But it’s most uncommon. Amendments to applications are permitted once, and then only when the facility has undergone significant changes in personnel or quality of care.”

  “Just as I said. Uncommon.” Ethan smiled. “But not impossible.”

  “No, not impossible.” The inspector glanced at his watch—a fancy-looking silver thing, another clear indication that he wasn’t from around here. “I’ll be on my way, then. I have another facility to visit before I head back to Washington in the morning. I trust you’ll tell Ms. Quinn I was here.”

  “Oh, I will.” When the time was right, not when she was standing vigil over Koko like that mournful lone wolf.

  Ethan tried to shake that tragic visual from his consciousness while Jack Oliver got back in his car and drove away. He failed. That sad wolf, nothing more than a ghost of what he’d once been, had made his home in Ethan’s head
.

  He remembered long, bitter nights digging snow caves under the dim glow of a headlight strapped around his skull. For ten consecutive nights after the lone wolf had gone missing, Ethan had wandered the camp trying to find him. He dug caves, makeshift dens, in the unlikely event that the wolf was still alive and needed a place to rest and recuperate. On the tenth night, a blizzard had blown in off Bristol Bay, and Ethan had suffered pretty severe frostbite. He’d nearly lost a finger, all because of those snow caves. It had been a waste of his time in the end. He never found the wolf.

  He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to force the sad creature back into the forest of memory. When he opened them, he found Tate watching him with a sad smile.

  “That was a good thing you just did,” he said, nodding toward Jack Oliver’s car rolling back toward the highway. “And you keep insisting you don’t belong here.”

  Why couldn’t Ethan shake the tragic recollection of that lone wolf? Probably because he hadn’t been able to save him. And he couldn’t seem to save Piper, either.

  He wouldn’t. Not in the long run. Too many words had been written. Too much damage had been done.

  “Trust me. I don’t.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Piper’s brain hurt.

  She wasn’t technically sure that was possible in a biological sense, but hers did. She was sure of it. For hours now, she’d been concentrating so hard on every word that came out of Dr. Stu Foster’s mouth, but there’d been so many of them. Frightening words. Words she didn’t want to have to wrap her mind around. Words like ventricular arrhythmia and cardiogenic shock. And worst of all—mortality rate.

  “It looks like the charcoal treatment worked. The first one cleared him of gastric content. I performed a second treatment as a precaution, and nothing came back up.” Stu removed his stethoscope from around his neck, inserted the earpieces and pressed the chest piece against the matted fur on Koko’s side.

  She knew it had to be her imagination, but the animal seemed so much thinner already. In the course of a day, her big black wolf had been transformed into a bag of bones. Plus he was filthy from the charcoal treatments and their ensuing sickness. She could barely tolerate looking at him like this. She wanted to give him a bath and brush his hair, which had to be one of the most nonsensical thoughts she’d ever had.

  And she was tired. So very tired. She wished she could close her eyes, fall asleep and wake up when this nightmare had ended.

  “His breathing is still much shallower than I’d like.” Stu moved the stethoscope around a few more times and listened intently, his face a mask of concentration.

  Piper bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from crying, because she knew once she started, she might not ever stop.

  “We’ve done all that we can do for now.” The vet pulled the stethoscope out of his ears and let it hang around his neck again. A lifesaver’s necklace. Or so she hoped. “I’ve put a heavy dose of electrolytes in his IV, along with some nutrients, to replace the fluids that he’s lost. I’m also giving him a sedative to keep him calm so he can sleep off the effects of the poison.”

  The hard knot that had lodged in Piper’s throat hours ago tripled in size. She couldn’t seem to swallow. Or breathe. “So you do think that’s what it is? Poison?”

  Her knees buckled. She needed to sit down again before she collapsed. She sank into the snow. It seeped through her jeans with prickly cold wetness, which she barely noticed. Her discomfort didn’t matter, anyway. Nothing mattered.

  Someone had tried to kill one of her wolves.

  How could she go on after this? Even if Koko survived—and right now, survival hardly seemed a given—how could she stay in a place where her wolves were so despised that someone had done this?

  It was over. Her sanctuary. Her dream. All of it.

  Stu crouched down in the snow beside her and placed a reassuring hand on her knee. “Yes, Piper. I’m afraid that’s what it looks like. Koko’s symptoms are indicative of acute poisoning. We won’t know for certain until the toxicology reports come back.”

  “I see.” She nodded absently. His voice sounded faraway and strange, as if he was speaking to her from the bottom of a well. She wondered if she might be going into shock. Probably. Wasn’t that what happened when people lost a loved one?

  “Try not to take this so hard. Koko’s not out of the woods, but he’s still with us. He might pull out of it. Right now all we can do is wait.” Stu placed a hand on her knee in a gesture she was sure was meant to comfort her. But she didn’t feel it. She couldn’t feel a thing anymore. The cold. The wind. Nothing.

  She swallowed. Or tried, anyway. The lump in her throat refused to budge, and she coughed instead. “Wh-where? Where do we wait? At the hospital?”

  Koko would hate that. When he woke up—if he woke up—the bright florescent lights and all the strange smells would bring back so many terrible memories. Memories that had taken Piper years to help him overcome.

  Stu shook his head. “I could take him to the clinic, but I don’t think that’s a good idea. Most wolves do best in their own environment. I’m afraid to place him under any more stress than he’s already encountered. I think it’s best that he stay right here where he’s comfortable. This is his home.”

  This is his home. For how much longer? This land, Alaska, everything she’d ever dreamed of—she felt as if it was all slipping through her fingers.

  “Good.” She nodded and somehow did a passable impression of someone who wasn’t on the verge of falling apart.

  “Is there anyone I can call for you, Piper? You seem...well, distraught. That’s a completely normal, understandable reaction. I just don’t think you should try to deal with this alone.”

  Okay, so maybe her facade wasn’t believable, after all.

  “There’s no one.” Never had those words cut so close to the bone. “I mean, I’m not alone. See?” She waved a hand toward the surrounding acreage.

  Stu chuckled under his breath. “You have a point. Half the town is in your front yard. Aurora does a good job of taking care of its own. I just wondered if there was anyone special you wanted by your side.”

  She looked up. Sure enough, people were milling about everywhere. She’d been so focused on what was going on inside Koko’s enclosure that she’d forgotten the world beyond the chain-link fence even existed. When she’d gestured to the rest of the sanctuary and said she wasn’t alone, she’d been talking about the others. The wolves—Tundra, Shasta, Echo, Whisper and Fury. She hadn’t meant actual people.

  Only now, after seeing Stu point to all the folks on the other side of the fence, did she realize how profoundly sad such a mistake seemed.

  “I hate to say this, but you’re going to need to keep an eye on him tonight. In the event that he wakes up, we don’t want him pulling that IV out of his leg.” Stu ran his hands along the shaved spot on Koko’s right foreleg where he’d inserted a catheter. “It looks good and secure right now, and we want it to stay that way.”

  “Absolutely. I won’t leave his side.” She would have stayed, even if Stu had ordered her gone. Leaving Koko alone right now was inconceivable. “Um, Stu, I have a question.”

  He looked up from his vet bag, where he’d almost finished storing away all the supplies he’d used over the course of the morning and afternoon. “Yes.”

  “What if Koko doesn’t wake up?” It hurt to ask the question aloud. Her throat burned from the effort it took to articulate her worst fear. “I mean, is it possible that he won’t?”

  Stu’s gaze dropped to Koko, sleeping peacefully in the snow. And she knew. Before he even said it, she knew.

  He looked back up and leveled his gaze at her. “I’m going to be honest, Piper. Koko is really sick. I wish I knew what kind of toxin he’d ingested. That kind of knowledge is crucial. It would help me make decisions regarding his treatment. But since we don’t know, I’m administering the broadest possible range of treatment protocols. At this point, based on what littl
e we know, I’d say he’s got a fifty-fifty chance of making it through the night.”

  Fifty-fifty. Like two sides of a coin. How did that old childhood saying go? Heads, I win. Tails, you lose. What she would do for a two-headed nickel right now.

  Fifty-fifty. Please, God. Don’t let him die.

  She lifted her eyes to the sky, where twilight dripped gray overhead. Moody, like a bruise. Like the storm clouds she’d seen in Ethan’s eyes right before he’d kissed her.

  “Stu, actually, there is someone I’d like you to get for me. If he’s still here, that is.” What was she doing? Ethan wasn’t her boyfriend. He wasn’t even technically a friend. But right now, he was the one she wanted. The only one. His parka was still wrapped around her, enveloping her in the comfort of his smoky pine scent. Like a fireside embrace. She needed more. She needed to feel his arms around her again. Only for tonight. Just one more time.

  Besides, what else could possibly go wrong? The worst had already happened. Hadn’t it?

  “Could you find Ethan for me?”

  * * *

  Ethan narrowed his gaze at the vet. “Me? Are you sure?”

  Stu nodded. He looked exactly like one might expect a person to look after he’d spent a day trying to save an animal from a mysterious poisoning. Exhausted. “Yes. She’s pretty shaken up. These animals obviously mean a great deal to her. I’m not sure she should be alone tonight. The next eight hours are crucial for Koko. Honestly, it could go either way.”

  “Right.” Ethan nodded. He’d hoped for better news.

  “I asked her if there was anyone special she wanted by her side, and she asked for you.” Stu glanced in the direction of Koko’s enclosure, where Piper sat in the snow with the wolf’s head in her lap.

  Ethan knew that if he left and returned the next morning, he’d find her in that exact same spot. If losing Koko was a real possibility—and Stu certainly seemed to think it was—she wouldn’t leave the wolf’s side. The thought of her keeping vigil all alone made his gut ache.