“I can see that, Hank. I can certainly see that looking at you.” Billy cranked up his truck. “I’ve got to get back to town.”
“I’ll come in later today and make a full report with you on the incidents that have happened up here. The arsenic and the brake fluid were the worst, but things have been stolen-small, personal items as well as equipment-trees have been chopped down along the paths. It’s a consistent effort to thwart this release. I want to catch the people responsible before someone gets hurt.”
“That’s one thing we can agree on, Hank. Stop by and we’ll talk.” Billy waited until Hank slammed his door and then swung the vehicle around in a tight circle and headed down the mountain.
WRRH THE MEN GONE, Shadoe found herself pacing back and forth inside the rambling cedar house that her father had designed and built. Sleep was out of the question. From out of her distant past, Hank Emrich had emerged to reopen painful wounds. She silently cursed her luck that he would be the agent to work this case. It was almost as if the gods were playing some nasty trick on them both—to bring them back together on the very land that had torn them apart.
Ironically, once again the land was the issue that stood between them. The land and who, or what, would rule it.
She walked to the window and saw the first pinkening of the sky. Dawn was on the way, thank goodness. She returned to the kitchen and made a fresh pot of coffee. If she did drift back to sleep, she knew she would face only nightmares. Worse nightmares than the wolf that stalked her.
The pot had not even stopped dripping when the shrill ring of the telephone almost made her jump. Who would be calling her at this hour? She lifted the receiver.
“Shadoe, it’s Jill I just got a call. They’re bringing the rest of the wolves today. Up near Stag’s Horn.”
Shadoe took the news in silence. “All twenty?” she finally asked.
“Hoss saw them, but he couldn’t tell exactly how many. The agents with them were heavily armed. I guess they’re going to stay with them until they take off on their own.”
Shadoe crooked the telephone into her neck and held it with a shoulder as she poured herself a cup of coffee. “They think some of us ranchers are trying to kill the wolves.”
“Well, they aren’t far wrong on that.” It took Jill a moment to register Shadoe’s odd tone of voice. “Are you okay?”
“I had a run-in last night with one of the federal agents.” Shadoe took a deep breath and felt her ribs complain. But Doc was right, the tight wrapping was helping.
“What happened?” Jill was eager for the details.
“Someone was prowling around down at the barn-”
Before she could finish, Jill interrupted. “Did you see him?”
“No such luck. Too dark. But I went down to catch him and ended up in the barn aisle with broken ribs and Hank Emrich towering over me.”
There was silence. “Hank’s back? Here in Lakota County?”
“He’s a U.S. Fish and Wildlife agent. He’s taking the return of the wolves very personally. Someone let Scrapiron out and Hank caught him and brought him home.”
“Ah, sh—” Jill bit back the word. “What are you going to do?”
“What can I do?” Shadoe asked.
“You know, after you took off, Hank ran Copperwood for a year and then started night classes. He got his degree in biology, or maybe it was forestry. I can’t remember. He must have gone into law enforcement after Copperwood was sold at auction.”
“Well, however it happened, he’s a federal agent now.”
“I can’t believe Hank would do this. I mean, he used to be a rancher. Surely he must understand how we feel.” Jill’s voice rose.
“Did it ever cross your mind that he understands? Maybe that’s exactly why he’s in this wolf project.”
“Shadoe!” Jill drew a sharp breath. “You’re not saying you believe he’s doing this as some sort of revenge? As if ranchers were to blame that he lost his place?”
Even as Jill said it, Shadoe didn’t want to believe it. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s just.” She let the sentence fade.
“You know Hank was really influenced by your dad. I can remember myself feeling this real connection with Saddleback Mountain and with the creatures in the woods when your dad took us camping.”
Shadoe blocked out the memory before it could hurt too much. “Yeah, but that’s over. That was for children. We’ve got cattle and horses to protect. Jill. The last thing we need is a wolf population.”
Jill heard the distress in her friend’s voice. “If we had a congressman who was a rancher, this wouldn’t be happening. To most folks a few cows or horses is the cost of doing business. They don’t understand that for some of us, that’s the profit by which we live or die. I’m barely hanging on.” Her voice turned bitter.
“Well, the wolves are a fact now. We’ll just have to guard our stock more carefully.”
“As if there’s not enough natural disaster in the cattle business, or horses. I lost a heifer yesterday. Got her head hung in the fence.” Jill’s voice shook. “It’s getting to where I can’t sleep nights now, worrying. Anyway, I didn’t call to tell you about my insomnia. Want to ride up and take a look at the wolves?”
Jill’s question startled Shadoe. She hadn’t considered such a thing. “I don’t think so.” What was the point of meeting her enemy face-to-face? Shadoe had never killed a living creature for sport or survival. But the wolves imported from Canada might be a different story. If they came for her horses, or anything else she loved, she’d do whatever she had to.
“Oh, come on. Go throw some feed, turn out your horses and let’s ride over. Curly said he’d feed and then check your barn. Maybe if we go up there and personally take our concerns they’ll understand.”
Something in Shadoe wanted to go. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt.” She could hear herself talking herself into going, and she was confused about her reasons why.
“Make up your mind,” Jill prompted. “I have to do some things before we set out.”
“Okay. But we can’t stay all day. I have to be back by two. Mark’s coming to shoe Luster.”
“Gotta get those shoes set for the big competition this weekend.” Jill’s voice held a teasing note. “I know you deny it, but I do believe you’re a rodeo queen.”
“Never a queen, just damn good at picking a smart horse. The talent is Luster’s.”
“False modesty is just vanity turned inside out,” Jill said, suppressing her laughter. “I’ll pick you up in an hour.”
“I’ll be ready.”
THE SITE THEUnited States Fish and Wildlife Service had selected for the release of twenty Canadian timber wolves was isolated, and very beautiful. It was the best Montana had to offer by way of mountains and forests. The blue spruces clung to the hard, rocky ground while snow was still deep in the upper elevations. There were granite outcroppings that gave a view of green meadows and woodlands sweeping up to distant purple mountains. As Jill drove, Shadoe tried to shield her heart against the beauty of the wilderness.
Jill pulled the four-wheel drive truck off the road and sat, her hands clutching the wheel. Her reddish blond curls were in their usual disarray, a contrast to Shadoe’s straight black hair, a shining sheet that hung to her shoulder blades.
“They aren’t going to be happy to see us.” Jill tightened her grip on the steering wheel.
“It’s a free country,” Shadoe answered. She picked up both pair of binoculars from the truck seat. “They won’t let us close, but maybe we can catch a glimpse of them.”
Jill slid out of the truck and waited for Shadoe to join her before they took a barely noticeable path back into the woods.
They walked in silence, both of them more than a little anxious about the wolves. Jill ran a beef cattle operation that had been her father’s dream. There’d been no son to inherit, so Jill had taken over when her father decided that Florida winters were more compatible with the crippling arthritis that had made his l
egs almost useless.
“I think you’ve gone far enough.”
Both Jill and Shadoe stopped dead in their tracks. Standing in the path before them was a tall, lean man that Shadoe recognized instantly. It took Jill a moment longer. The rifle at his side was held casually, but with great familiarity. He wasn’t threatening them, but he clearly wasn’t going to let them pass.
“Hank! Hank Emrich!” Jill stared at him, then dropped her gaze to the gun.
“Jill.” He remembered her as the head cheerleader who’d always had a kind word for everyone in school.
“Shadoe said you’re a fed.” Jill’s irrepressible personality showed through in her smile. “I never thought the boy who hated authority would turn out to be a law officer.”
Hank’s smile was slow in arriving and lasted only a few seconds. “How are you, Jill? I can see you haven’t changed much.”
“I’d be a lot better if you’d take those wolves back to Canada where they belong.”
The warmth that had shown briefly disappeared from Hank’s face. “You don’t own the whole mountain range, Jill. You nor any of the ranchers. The wolves were here long before man.”
“Times have changed,” Jill said. “Or maybe you haven’t noticed.” Her sarcasm was hard to miss. “We came up to talk to your boss.”
“My boss isn’t here, and this area is closed to everyone but the wildlife agents.” He looked beyond Jill and Shadoe down to the place where they’d parked their vehicle.
“We came up here to make a reasonable attempt to explain our position. We have a right to do that.” Shadoe spoke up. The sun was behind Hank, haloing his light hair, softening the years that had passed. For all the illusion of the lighting, though, Hank could have been made from stone.
“There’s nothing you can say that will change the course of events.” He didn’t even look at Shadoe as he spoke.
“I can see it was a mistake.” Why had she let Jill talk her into such a stupid idea? Knowing she was likely to run into Hank, knowing his attitude toward her and the other ranchers, she’d come on a fool’s mission anyway. In fact, it was Hank’s very presence that had drawn her up the mountain, and that fact made her angry with herself.
“Well, Shadoe said you’d changed. I guess I didn’t believe her. Until now.” Jill shook her head at the lawman. “Whatever happened to the Hank Emrich I went to high school with?” she asked.
“I think you should turn around and head back home. I can make that an order if you really push me.”
Jill shifted her weight. “Come on, Shadoe, there’s no point starting trouble now. We’ll see the wolves soon enough. And you can tell Mr. Harry Code that if they’re on my property, they’re dead.”
“What is the problem with you people?” Hank’s voice was harsh. “There are thousands of miles of open mountain range. We’re releasing twenty wolves. Under the best of circumstances they’ll remain a very small element of the natural order here.”
Shadoe spoke in a low, emotionless voice. “Maybe the problem is that I’ve seen firsthand what a wolf can do to a young, defenseless creature. Maybe it’s because I saw what one did to my eight-year-old brother.” She spun on the path and ran after Jill.
Hank felt as if he’d been gut-kicked by both back legs of an angry mule. Shadoe’s last retort had been a direct hit, and he cursed his own stupidity. He listened to the sound of rocks being dislodged as the two women hurried down the path to their vehicle.
Hefting the gun in his firm grip, he turned to go back to the area where the cages had been unloaded from the trucks. The wolves would be held in the cages until they’d had a chance to sniff out their surroundings, and then the cage doors would be opened onto larger pens. The final step would be total freedom. An animal that had been wiped out by man would once again roam the Rocky Mountains. The natural order would be restored. He had to hang on to that thought and not allow himself to be diverted by the human complaints.
He fixed his mind on a mental image of the huge silvery gray animals running through the patchy snow and reality was replaced with a movie he’d seen in his mind over and over again. In the distance was a tall, arrow-straight man with long dark hair. As the wolves ran past him, he gave Hank a slow, easy smile.
But superimposed in Hank’s mind came the tight, anxious features of Shadoe Deerman. Her heavy black hair trapped the sunlight in dazzles. She would be a beautiful woman, if she wasn’t such an angry one. She had been a gorgeous young girl.
“Damn!” he said out loud. “Damn!” He had no one to blame but himself. He picked up his pace, stretching his long legs, but he couldn’t walk fast enough to leave behind the image of Shadoe’s tense face.
As he rounded a bend in the path, he came within sight of the cages, and his pulse increased at the magnificence of the animals behind the heavy wire. Untamed. Extremely smart. Perfect specimens. He nodded at a huge male as if the animal had spoken to him.
“Communing with the animals again?”
He turned to find the teasing smile of his friend Cal Oberton not ten feet away.
“He’s a handsome rascal,” Hank said, glad for any subject to erase Shadoe’s face from his mind. Why hadn’t he invited the two women up to see the wolves? Maybe he could have talked with them, reasoned with them, made them understand. There had once been a time when Shadoe believed as he did. Cal’s voice broke through those hurtful thoughts.
“Handsome, and deadly. Don’t you think it’s sort of eerie the way he stares at you? I mean his gaze follows you around the camp. And none of the other wolves will make any eye contact with the rest of us.”
“That’s for the best.” Hank slapped his friend on the shoulder. “They don’t trust you, and if half the women in Washington had been one third as smart, you wouldn’t have left so many broken hearts behind.”
Cal laughed good-naturedly in return. “That was a long time ago, when we were young and foolish.”
“And you haven’t changed. If I remember correctly, I was too busy studying and holding down a job to do much romancing. I suppose you had to take care of my share for me.” That wasn’t exactly true, and Hank knew it. But studying and working were acceptable male reasons for not pursuing women. The truth wasn’t acceptable. To him or his friends.
“And that hasn’t changed, either.” Cal motioned toward a waiting vehicle. “We’re supposed to go into town and check some facts for the boss man, and then hang around and have dinner, remember? Maybe we can find one of those famous Montana dance halls or saloons. If we’re going to be stuck up here in this forsaken country for weeks, we might as well learn about the local culture.”
Hank had completely forgotten. He’d been absorbed in the events of the night before-and the wolves. Since they’d been captured in Canada and brought into the United States he’d barely left their sides.
“Let me change shirts and I’ll be ready.”
The driver blasted the horn, a sign of impatience.
“I’ll tell them to give you three minutes,” Cal said. “They’re about to bust a gut to get to town.”
Hank smiled at his friend. “Sounds like something that will do all of us some good. Just as long as someone stays here to take care of the wolves.”
“Gordy and Jim.”
“Good enough.” Hank hurried toward his tent where he put away his gun and grabbed a clean shirt. A night on the town, if Athens, Montana could be termed a town in the kindest definition. The population was less than five thousand. There were a few restaurants, some bars, a barber shop, which he badly needed to visit but hadn’t had time, and a few businesses. He wondered how many, if any, of the residents would remember him. And how they would remember him? As the young man who’d lost his family ranch?
Even though the others were waiting, Hank made one last pass by the cages. The biggest male wolf stood up and pinned him with a gaze.
“Hey, Thor.” Against all common sense he’d named the animal. He’d given him the name of a god, a small protection against
the many odds facing the animal’s survival.
“That wolf’s got you in his sights.” Jim Larson walked up beside Hank. “He watches every move you make, and he doesn’t pay the least attention to any of the rest of us.”
“I doubt that.” Hank looked over at Jim. It wasn’t like a field biologist to start personalizing the behavior of an animal.
“I’m not kidding, Hank. It’s eerie. Ask the others. I’d be careful when we turn these guys loose. I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if old-what was it you called him?-old Thor doesn’t hunt you down and kill you. I think he’s developed a personal grudge against you for moving him down here from Canada.”
Hank gave the biologist a hard look, but Jim only adjusted his glasses and went back to his tent.
Feeling the skin along his neck prickle, Hank turned back to the wolf. The animal was staring at him again. Thor came up to the wire and stopped. Still holding his gaze steady, he opened his mouth to reveal long, deadly teeth, and slowly licked his lips.
Chapter Four
“Hey!” Shadoe chided the big gelding as she knelt at his front leg and tried to wind a bright red transport wrap around his shin. Staring at some horses in a nearby pasture, Luster whinnied to them and stomped his foot again in impatience.
Shadoe rocked back on her heels, the safety wrap held tightly in her hand and her sore ribs still aggravating her. “Cut it out, buster. I can’t do this if you’re going to stomp.” She bent back to her task, securing the bandage with the Velcro closings that would hold it firmly in place.
She stood up and took a step back to admire her handiwork. Luster’s dappled gray coat gleamed in the April sun. His black mane and tail were immaculately groomed, and the red wraps gave him a flashy look. It fit his personality perfectly. Luster was one horse that liked the limelight? and her best chance of showing the Montana area the type of baby her stud could throw.
Midnight Prey Page 4