by Ruth Wind
Wryly, Juliet smiled. "I'm sure it will be wonderful."
As if he scented the newcomers, a wolf suddenly howled, a mournful sound cutting through the snowy afternoon. Next to Juliet, Glory stopped and lifted her chin to the sky, letting go of an eerily beautiful howl finished with a series of little yips.
Juliet smiled. "What did you say to him?"
Glory dipped her head coyly, danced, holding on to Juliet's hand, and yipped some more. In the distance, the wolves answered.
Desi paused and turned around. "They're talking back to you, Glory. Do you hear them?"
"I know! That's why I said it!"
"Said what?" Josh asked.
The little girl looked upset and embarrassed and Juliet wanted to protect her from whatever was intruding on the pretty little story she was telling herself. "If it's a secret," Juliet said, "you certainly do not have to tell us."
"I was telling them," Glory said quietly, "that we were bringing the princess to see them!"
"Glory likes to be a wolf," Josh said, coming up beside them. "Sometimes she only speaks in wolf for a whole day."
Juliet chuckled. "I bet that's interesting for you."
"Oh, yeah." He glanced down at her, his dark eyes twinkling. "Since I don't speak wolf at all."
"And I would imagine that translators are somewhat hard to come by." She grinned, feeling her guard slip just a little as she met his gentle gaze. For a moment, she didn't look away, only allowed the slight, easy connection, liking the size of him, his broad shoulders, his legs like tree trunks, a surety of movement as he placed one foot squarely, solidly, then the other.
When the small group entered the clearing where wolves lived, the creatures set up a wild greeting, rushing to the front of their roomy, sturdy kennels, wolves and wolf-mixes bred with a dozen kinds of dogs.
"Wow!" Juliet paused, amazed at how much work Desi had done here, too. There were a lot more kennels—really wide-open, fenced spaces, and a lot more wolves, and Juliet could see that Desi had sunk some serious money into the center. Her love for the animals showed. It almost seemed to Juliet that the wolves got preferential treatment. There were sheds and shelters, trees and water troughs in each kennel—and most important, a lot of room to roam and run. Toward the north, on the flat side of the mountain, was a low, rambling adobe building. It, too, was new. The lights were on.
A youth of about nineteen, with a Prince Valiant haircut and the long limbs of a grasshopper, carried a bucket down the dirt alleyway between kennels. "Glad to see you, boss," he said as he approached. "The new bitch is not eating at all."
Desi nodded. "I'll go check her out in a minute. Alex, I'd like you to meet my sister Juliet. Alex is a wolf-charmer."
"Oh, no," the young man said, his cheekbones going red. "She keeps saying that."
"She doesn't give compliments lightly," Juliet said, extending her hand. "You must be very good."
"Desi's been dying for you to get here." He leaned over as he shook her hand, his knobby wrist sticking out of his coat. "Nice to meet you."
"Thanks."
"Hey, Uncle," Alex said to Josh, then to Glory, "And to you, too, little sister."
Glory danced, high on her toes, and held tight to Juliet's hand. She howled in greeting.
Alex howled back. "Do you want to help me with the water?"
"Can the princess come with me?"
Alex gave Glory a quizzical look. "The princess?"
"That would be Princess Juliet," Josh said, putting his hand on her shoulder. Heavy. Warm. Enormous.
"Ah. The princess. Sure, she can come. I bet you want to see the wolves anyway, don't you?"
"Absolutely."
He led them down the dirt alley between fences. Wolves ran over curiously, in groups of two or three, occasionally more. Juliet remembered that wolves, in general, liked to be in a family group. Some were fine with a pair bond; others liked a pack.
"This is Persephone," Alex said, pausing beside a kennel where a wolf with thick, black and white-speckled fur huddled to the back. She raised her head when she heard voices, the gold eyes showing hope. When she saw who it was—evidently not who she had been hoping for—she sighed and put her head back down on her paws, despondence dripping from every hair. "She's not doing well here. We're trying to encourage her to bond with some of the other wolves, but it's not working."
Juliet moved closer, drawn to the sorrow of the animal. "Where did she come from?"
"She was abandoned by her owner, and was killing rodents and other small animals down in Gunnison before animal control picked her up. The woman at the humane society there recognized that she was a wolf, not a dog, and gave us a call."
"Is she as depressed as she seems?" Juliet asked.
He nodded. "A wolf bonds for life, you know? And when humans abandon them, they can take it pretty hard. She's the worst we've had for awhile."
"Poor thing," Josh said. He stood right behind Juliet, and his voice resonated through his chest in a velvety roll she felt on her shoulder blades. "What do you do?"
"Sometimes, you can introduce a pup or another wolf and they get better. Sometimes, they transfer the bond to another human, though this one has shown no interest in anyone yet. Sometimes," he shrugged, "they just die."
Juliet snapped her head up. "They die of a broken heart?"
Alex nodded and looked back at Persephone.
"Wow." Josh moved, and Juliet found herself exchanging a look with him. Up close, she noticed that he smelled almost the same as the forest floor, of loamy ground and pine needles and that essential otherness of mountain earth. As if he were somehow shaped of the land.
Quit it! She shouldn't be thinking the things she was thinking about him. She had a fiancé! Feeling unsettled, she looked back to the wolf. "How did you know her name was Persephone?"
"We named her that," Alex said. "For the goddess who was taken under the earth by Hades before she was returned."
"Beautiful."
The wolf lifted her head for a moment, listening. It almost looked as if she'd weep. Juliet turned away, a thick sensation in her throat. "I think I'm going to head back. I'm pretty tired."
"Princess, will you come see me?" Glory asked.
"Yes," she said. "Soon."
* * *
Chapter 3
« ^ »
As the two sisters settled in over a supper of beef stew and crusty bread, Desi asked, "So, how're you doing, Juliet?"
"Fine." Juliet thought of the soap operas and M&M's and the routine of meals and forced a bright smile. "Good! Really."
"How much longer until you go back to work?"
Juliet chased a carrot coin with her spoon. "I'm not sure."
"Which means?"
"It was—um—a forced leave of absence, Desi. Until I can get myself together, I don't need to show up."
Desi put down her spoon, her dark eyes peering right by all of Juliet's defenses. "I see," she said. For a minute, it seemed she might say something else, but she only gave a small nod, picked up her bread and tore off a piece. "Well, then, I guess it's a good thing that you came out here to visit me."
"I'm so glad to be here, Desi." Juliet impulsively touched her sister's hand. Her nails were short and functional, the knuckles a little raw from scrubbing them so often. "You didn't have to wait until it was completely crazy to call me, you know. You don't always have to be the strong one."
Desi looked stricken. "I'm only getting divorced, Juliet!"
"Only? Desi, your whole life is turned upside down!"
"Oh, it's not that." She scowled at her bowl. A lock of wavy dark hair feel against a cheek that was too white. "I mean, it's rotten, the divorce. But it's not the same as being the victim of a violent crime."
"It's been a year. I'm doing okay. And it's not a contest, anyway. You've been with Claude for what, fifteen, sixteen years?"
"I was twenty-one when I joined the Peace Corps and we met the day I arrived in Africa, so—" she flipped her fingers, counti
ng mentally "—fifteen years, I guess."
"That's a long time. And he's really been terrible."
Desi nodded.
Juliet picked up her spoon. "Tomorrow, we'll go to town and start the paperwork—first the restraining order, then we'll find a divorce lawyer in town to help you out."
"Thanks. That's a good idea." She buttered a corn muffin and flashed a sideways grin, an expression that made an elusive dimple appear. "And you can stop in and see Glory's red shoes, Ms. Princess."
Juliet thought of the little girl's wide-eyed adoration with a sense of warmth. "She made my day, that kid."
"She really does not like strangers. It's weird how much she likes you."
"Gee, thanks!" Juliet said with a laugh.
"You know what I mean. She's afraid of strangers. Her mother kidnapped her and she was missing for nearly eight months. Josh only got her back a few months ago."
"That sounds grim."
"I haven't heard all the details, but I gather it wasn't great. No abuse, but a lot of neglect and a lot of people in and out." Desi shook her head. "I don't understand a mother who would put her child in danger that way."
"No, I don't, either," Juliet said. "So he's not married?"
"Nope. And says he never will be again. He and I have formed a Better Friends Than Lovers club." She raised an eyebrow. "One luscious creature, isn't he?"
"It's not that." Juliet felt the tips of her ears get hot. "Well, I guess he is, you know, but I do have a fiancé."
"Nothing wrong with admiring the scenery."
"True."
"How is Scott, anyway?"
Juliet pasted on her bright social smile. "Fine."
Desi blinked. "You are so lying."
Juliet ducked her head. "You're right. Things are just not good. I'm not sure why—if it's me or it's him, or both of us." She opened her hands, palms up, and stared at the pinkish flesh around the perimeter. "Or what."
"You have been to a counselor, haven't you?" She frowned. "Rape isn't something you just get over in a day."
"I know. And yes, I've seen a counselor." Juliet shook her head. "I'm really okay, Desi. It's been a year. It's not like I walk around thinking about it all the time. I've got some issues, but I'll get through them."
"But Scott has issues, too."
Juliet nodded. "I guess it's not uncommon for men to feel unsettled by the rape of a wife or girlfriend."
"Is he pushing you away?"
"Not at all. He—" She paused. "Hovers. It drives me crazy."
"Have you ever told Mom?"
"No. And I won't." Pushing her plate away, Juliet sighed. "Can we not discuss this anymore? Honestly, my girlfriends tiptoe around me and everyone at the law firm acted like I was a very delicate egg they might break. I'm fine."
Desi looked at her for a long moment, the dark eyes probing and still. "Well, it's a good thing," she said at last, "because I am a wreck and I need you."
"So do your wolves. I'm so proud of you for that sanctuary."
"That sanctuary is why I'm fighting Claude so hard for the land."
"How does he have any right to this land at all?" Juliet asked in outrage. "You bought it, didn't you?"
Desi shrugged. "I put the original down payment on it, but Claude has done a lot of work to it—clearing and building. He does have some claim, but Juliet—you have to help me with this part. If he takes the land, he'll just sell it to developers."
"Usually, there's a split. Is there some sort of equitable split you can work out?"
"Not easily." Desi bowed her head. "Not and protect the wolves."
"Can you buy him out?"
A glitter danced in Desi's eyes. "Well, I'm sure that's what he wants." The dimple in her cheek appeared. "Real estate prices have skyrocketed the past five years, and there isn't much buildable land available. With the hot spring and the meadows, this really is extremely desirable, and there's a developer who has offered almost ten million for it."
Juliet's mouth fell open. "Ten million?"
"I can't believe it, either—that's about 60 times as much as we paid for it ten years ago."
"How vulgar," Juliet said with a grin, imitating what their mother would say whenever people spoke of money. Still, she whistled. "That's a lot of money."
"It is. But I'm not selling. If I did, I'd betray everything I've been working for my whole life. The land shouldn't belong only to the rich."
"You're right." Juliet frowned. The value of the land complicated the divorce in a very sticky way. "But if you think the pressure will ease, you're crazy."
"I know." She rubbed her face. "It's insane."
"What happened to kick the real estate value so high so fast?"
"Couple of things. One is just that Colorado is such a great ski center, and one by one, all the major recreational areas are exploding. This ski area has been here for about twenty years, but it's hard to get here and with so many other choices, there was no rush to get to Mariposa."
"Which is why you guys liked it, right? It was the mountains, there's a town, but it wasn't a big mass of tourists."
"Exactly." She stood up and carried the bowls to the counter and put a stopper in the drain. "That, and even for Colorado, it's amazingly beautiful." Taking a teakettle off the stove where it had been warming while they ate, she poured hot water into the sink. "It's a lot of things that made the land skyrocket, but the big one is that Johann Larsen—the skier—started training here about seven years ago, and then he won all those medals at the Olympics. Now it's becoming a center for training."
"Yeah, but that would account for the value tripling, or even quadrupling. Not sixty-times-ing."
Desi raised her eyebrows. "They built a casino on the reservation."
"Ah." That would do it, combined with everything else. Juliet pursed her lips in thought. "That complicates things a lot. But we'll figure something out."
"I'm tired tonight, though, and I'm sure you are, too. Let's make some hot chocolate and curl up with the dogs inside and tell ghost stories."
Juliet rubbed her foot on Crazy Horse, a black lab mix who had the sweetest eyes in the world. "Can Crazy Horse sleep with me?"
Desi grinned. "Absolutely."
"Let's get some rest then." Juliet had a feeling they were going to need it, to deal with all the layers of this sticky divorce.
It was only as she was drifting off to sleep that she realized she'd forgotten to call Scott. And the slight pinprick of guilt only lasted a second, while the recognition of Desi's situation sank in.
Ten million dollars.
Good grief.
* * *
Josh would never understand the vagaries of the human female, whether she was four years old or four hundred. The morning was cold and sharp as cactus needles, but what did Glory come out of the room wearing? A short skirt and sandals with flowers.
And a crown.
"Glory," he said, putting forks on the table, "it snowed last night. Snow is cold. Go back and find something warm to put on."
"Like what? Grandma says you should help me pick stuff out."
"Grandma is a troublemaker." His mother, Helene, wanted Glory to be spit-polished every morning, with matching ribbons and socks. Josh had neither the time nor the talent to make that happen. "Don't you tell her I said that, either." The water on the stove was boiling. He poured a cup of old-fashioned oats into the pan. Patiently, he said, "Every time I help you, you complain."
"I want help this morning."
"Okay, go get a pair of jeans and a—" he had to stop and think. Did everything go with jeans? "A blue sweater."
"I want a yellow sweater."
"Yellow, then, I don't care."
Glory marched back to her bedroom, muttering to Pink and Ink, her imaginary friends. She didn't allow anyone else to talk to them, and she was disgusted if an adult pretended to see them. At the same time, they were quite real in Glory's universe. As far as Josh could figure, Pink was a fluffy girl being, and Ink was a boy,
sleek as a seal. They were sister and brother.
"Spirit guides," his mother had pronounced in her I-am-the-Medicine-Woman voice.
"Named Pink and Ink?" Josh scoffed.
"Names don't matter."
He let it go. Helene was a sage and healer, in both "white" medicine and traditional native medicine. In the mainstream world, she was an emergency room nurse at the medical center, and on the reservation, she was a medicine woman, using a combination of spiritual and physical healing techniques like sweats and teas and spiritual journeys he no longer believed in.
But it worked for her. That was how he'd met Desi, actually, through his mother. They held women's sweats and drummings on Desi's land, in a sweat lodge by the hot springs. It was, evidently, sacred ground and Desi had been honored to help provide space.
"Hurry up, Glory!" Josh called. "Breakfast is almost ready."
Glory came out wearing a pink sweatshirt with a sequined butterfly over the front, and pale blue corduroy pants. Exasperated, he almost said something about the fact that she had not listened to his clothing advice, but let it go.
She handed him a brush. "Will you do my hair for me?"
"Definitely." He took the silver plastic-and-rhinestone tiara off her head and gave it to her to hold, then brushed out her long, thick hair. Sparks of static popped and flashed in the depths. When it was free, it fell past her hips in a perfectly straight waterfall of silk, but Glory liked it to be braided. He loved the cool weight of it weaving through his fingers. "You look very pretty," he said.
"I would like to get some curlers. Natasha has curls sometimes."
"Might have to take that up with Grandma. I'm not sure I know how to do curls."
She sighed, leaning against his knee as he braided her hair. "That's why a girl needs a mommy, too. Because dads don't know stuff."
She was only four. She didn't know it killed him to be so inept at the girly parts of parenthood. He did his best, but—again—he was a guy. He liked big messy things. Football games in muddy fields, big trucks with noisy engines, skinning fish. He didn't know much about making a living room look pretty or cooking anything beyond the basic meat and potatoes and oatmeal, though he was learning, painfully and slowly. He didn't know how to match clothes or do fancy braids.